#[ incident report: smiling woman ]
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whitherwanderer · 8 months ago
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"I think..."
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"...you have followed me..."
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"...far enough."
Incident Report: Witness came to my office in Wailer custody. He (elezen, 45, Hyrstmill) was quite shaken and claimed to have been followed on through the forest. He described a hyuran woman (late twenties to mid thirties, long, ashen hair and skin, dirty gray tunic; no eye color given—he reported that her eyes were naught but whites) staring at him from behind a tree on the roadside, smiling unnaturally. As he approached the tree where the woman hid, she ran around it and, per his claim, disappeared. He had little cause for concern until she saw the same woman hiding behind another tree just a few hundred yalms up the road. Witness claims not to have seen the woman pass him on the roadside, nor did he see any usual movement in the trees. He called out, but she deigned to neither respond nor to move. He carried on down the road, keeping an eye upon the woman as he passed, then turned to check the road ahead when she was out of sight once again. He then saw her a third time, some fifteen yalms ahead, now peeking from behind Galvanth's Spire. Witness then began to run from the authorities, which prompted them to give chase and arrest him for suspicious behavior. Wailers report seeing no woman approach and new footsteps could be found.
Investigator's note: Woman loosely fits the description of a missing person report filed last autumn that the Wailers were charged with investigating. They neither found the woman nor recovered remains (attributed to wildlife; she disappeared during the peak of annual funguar activity). I'll need to confirm her identity, which means I'll have to get close, and that presents a problem if she slips away whenever someone draws near. I have a hunch she is simply a pawn for a much larger threat that will only reveal itself once a potential victim follows her deeper into the wood. Wonderful. I leave in the morning.
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miedei · 6 days ago
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nonexistent rizz
the team is shocked to see that… early seasons!spencer pulls?? and he has pulled????
(aka, the team discovers that early seasons!spence has a girlfriend)
a/n: first cm fic!!! super indulgent, deffo way longer than it had to be but I don’t care, I love love love the dynamic of the s1/s2 team and I NEEDED to write it
cw: alcohol consumption, reader referred to as a woman, reader is around spencer’s age in s1/s2 (23-24), completely inaccurate early 2000s technology i think, cuties being cute, not edited in any way
wc: 2k
part two
(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )
mlist
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“‘O Keefe’s! My wonderful, wonderful sweethearts, we are going out!” The moment the team steps out of the elevator, Penelope is bombarding them, hands moving wildly as words seem to tumble out of her mouth. “And yes, Hotch, I am sure we have no cases lined up yet, and yes, I’m sure JJ can corroborate that the moment she gets to her office and no, you may not stay behind, tonight is compulsory. That stands for you too, Gideon!”
Hotch hasn’t even opened his mouth, shaking his head in defeat as he takes in Garcia’s determined face. Under the watchful eyes of the team, his shoulders slump, a tired hand scrubbing down his face. “Fine. We all have to finish our reports, but if we’re all done in half an hour, we can go. Gideon?” He turns his face, hoping for Gideon to find a way to bunk off, but there’s a glint of amusement in the older man’s eye. “Sounds like there’s no getting out of it.” With that, he walks off, to his office. 
Penelope whoops excitedly, “Okay! That means we’re all going! That’s the first time since Gideon came back,” but her face sets slightly when she meets Spencer’s eye. “No. No, Baby Genius, you will not do this to me,”
“Garcia, I have pl-” “No! You are coming out with us, and we’re going to have a great time, and whatever Russian indie film you were going to watch will still be there for you tomorrow. Okay? No more complaining, baby, you know I won’t listen.” With a pat on his shoulder, she flounces off. Defeated, he doesn’t move from the elevator area, shrugging helplessly when Elle, JJ and Morgan brush past him to the bullpen. 
With a sigh, he takes out his phone, pressing his newly-programmed speed dial and bringing the phone to his ear. From Derek’s vantage point in the bullpen, he can see Spencer, pacing back and forth in front of the elevator doors, and he can see the moment whoever is on the other side picks up. The younger man’s face lights up, like when he’s on the receiving end of a rare Hotch smile out in the field, but more spirited, buoyant. Only snippets of the conversation float in through the slightly-ajar glass doors, but they’re enough to give him pause, and still his fingers above his keyboard.
“...Garcia’s got this plan for us all, and…”
“Yes, I know, I do like going out with them, but that’s not what I wanted to do…”
“...I took the metro tonight, so I think I’ll just… Really? You want to?”
At that point, Spencer turns, his voice muffling, and keeping Derek from his vested interest in his conversation. But what little he heard is more than enough to pique his interest. He flicks a pencil onto Elle’s desk. “Greenaway. You know if pretty boy’s mom is in town or something?” Elle looks up from her monitor, head tilting, “Not that I know of. Besides, doesn’t she not like flying? I don’t think he’d have her come here. Why do you ask?”
Derek doesn’t reply, simply gesturing to the glass doors, where Spencer is walking inside, his mouth twitching to conceal his smile. His steps are measured, like he’s trying to feign calm. He settles at his desk, hunching his back in a way that can’t be comfortable, typing rapidly as his knee jiggles up and down. Elle turns back to Derek, eyes wide with wonder. 
“That is not how you look getting off the phone with your mother.”
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The incident is quickly forgotten, however, when the BAU team are crammed into a booth in the back of the low-lit bar. Penelope has roped Hotch into helping her bring drinks back from the bar, and the rest are speaking a little too loudly, arms flinging and bumping into the empty glasses littering the table. 
All except for Gideon, who, despite having had three glasses of whiskey, is still just as calm and observant as he is fully sober. It is this that causes him to zero in on Spencer, sitting across from him, sandwiched between Morgan and the newly-returned Garcia. 
There’s a pink flush across his high cheekbones, and he’s incredibly giggly, all things that are completely expected for him, a few drinks in. However, what the experienced profiler picks up on, are his darting eyes. Spencer can often be found staring into the middle distance, or, since Gideon taught him the importance of building rapport with victims and officers alike, trained steadily on the space between someone’s eyebrows, but this time it’s different.
His eyes flick to whoever’s talking, feigning interest, but every few seconds, it turns back down to his lap, where something is clutched in the hand he keeps under the table. If it were Hotch, Gideon would know with absolute certainty that he was watching his phone, waiting for a text from Haley.
But this is Spencer. The youngest person he knows. The youngest person he knows whose technological knowledge is somehow worse than Gideon’s own. What on earth would have Spencer acting- 
Oh. Gideon nearly gasps at Spencer’s movements. On his fifteenth peek down at his lap, Spencer stiffens, then draws his hand up from his lap to get closer to his face. It is his phone, and Spencer Reid has somehow learned to text as quickly as Morgan does. His thumbs fly over the buttons on his phone, and he can’t hold back the smile that spreads on his face.
Gideon’s eyes furrow, and he can’t hold back from nudging Hotch’s shoulder, pointing in Spencer’s direction. Hotch pulls himself away from his conversation with JJ, and Gideon can see his expression morph from mild interest, to confusion, to complete bewilderment. After a beat, his face turns to meet Gideon’s and his normally stoic demeanor is shaken, eyes wide. 
Spencer, however, doesn’t even notice his mentors’ faces, still tapping away at his phone and craning his neck to look around the bar. 
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It’s a while later, when JJ has pulled the team (minus Hotch and Gideon) onto the dance floor, a few drinks past tipsy at this point. She’s laughing out loud, holding Elle’s hand and twirling her under her arm. Penelope and Derek are mock-waltzing, bursting into laughter every few steps, and Spencer… 
JJ pauses for a moment, before Elle pulls her into moving again. Her head whips around, trying to find Spencer, before giving up. He must be back at the table with Hotch and Gideon, he was never very comfortable dancing anyway. 
The four on the dance floor quickly devolve into a mess, swapping partners until they’re all dizzy and laughing. JJ and Penelope are shimmying back and forth together, when Penelope gasps a little, tapping JJ’s arm without ceasing her movements. “Jayj! Look, see that girl at the bar?” She gestures subtly at a younger woman, probably in her early twenties, wearing a purple wrap top that has JJ sighing wistfully. 
“Pen, I think I’ve seen my soulmate. Would it be weird for me to crawl over there and beg her for her shirt?” Penelope giggles, gripping JJ’s forearms so they can sway to the music dramatically. “Just a little, my sweet. How about we go ask her where it’s from, though? I think that would be a little more…” She goes uncharacteristically silent, and it has JJ twisting to see what shut her up. However, Penelope tightens her grip on her arms, keeping her from moving. 
“JJ. My love, my heart. You’ll always be honest with me, won’t you?” Now she’s worried. JJ nods quickly, deciding to just focus on Penelope. “Yeah, Garcia, of course. What’s wrong?”
“I think I’m seeing things, and you are one of the most qualified people in the world to tell me if I’m going crazy. I’m going to turn us around, and you’re going to look at the woman in that gorgeous top, and you are going to either scream, or send me off to Hotch for a psychological evaluation.” Her tone is serious, hushed, and JJ nods solemnly. 
The intricate plan is conducted, and JJ is now facing the bar, her eyes searching for the girl, when she stiffens, sucking in a breath. “Yes! I’m not crazy, you see it right? What is going on!” Penelope smacks her arm repeatedly, but JJ can’t tear her eyes away from it. It being something she couldn’t possibly have prepared herself for, not in her wildest imaginations.
The girl is sitting on a barstool, sipping at a cocktail, and chatting to… Spencer. Spencer, the BAU’s Spencer, child-prodigy-lovable-dork-awkward-mess Spencer Reid, is stood in between her legs, smiling down at Mystery Girl without a hint of fear. It’s devastatingly sweet, his eyes soft in a way she’s never seen before, as he nods along with whatever she’s saying. Penelope jolts her out of her trance with a tap to the arm, JJ whispering, “He’s so… carefree.” 
That’s the only way to describe it. He’s looking down at her, eyes locked onto hers, and he’s still. His hands aren’t tapping, his leg isn’t shaking. He’s just looking at her. 
JJ can feel Morgan and Elle huddle near her, questioning Penelope about what they’re looking at, before shutting up as they see it. She hears them take twin gasps, and huddle even closer. They stand in silence, surely a hindrance to the people dancing, but they can’t tear themselves away. 
It’s only when Spencer shatters their worlds once more that they finally find themselves able to move. Four pairs of eyes follow him, as he leans even further towards Mystery Girl, and they all bulge at once when he raises a hand, carding his fingers through her hair. Penelope whispers, “oh my god”, Elle grips JJ’s arm in a vice grip, and Derek makes an unseemly noise, before gripping their arms, tugging them back to the booth. 
They collapse in the seats, faces pale as they look at each other, next to a very confused Gideon and Hotch. 
“What? What is it?” Hotch questions them, brow furrowed deeply. None of them speak, however. Only Elle lifts a weak hand to point. She directs their attention to the sight at the bar, and they all turn back to it, gasping once again. They’re… “kissing,” Derek breathes, shocked. Hotch and Gideon stiffen, but still crane their heads until their eyes fall on what has rendered their highly trained team speechless. And their reactions are just as silent.
Mystery Girl has stood up, her arms around Spencer’s neck, and he’s leaned down to meet her lips, hands braced on her hips. It’s honestly not that scandalous, a lazy, casual kiss that they part from with twin smiles, but the FBI agents can’t handle it. They don’t say a word, straining their ears to hear whatever she is saying as he holds her hand (Penelope lets out a squeak at that), and walks with her towards the door, not even noticing that his coworkers have returned to the booth. Her voice is low, but Hotch manages to pick up a few of the words. 
“...go home and watch that movie I was telling you about? Metropolis, I think you’ll really…” And they’re off. Spencer Reid has left a bar, holding hands with a girl (that he’s apparently spoken to multiple times? Who refers to a place as home for both of them?), acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 
The group sits in silence, unable to muster a comment, when Penelope’s phone buzzes. She checks it, and silently turns the screen over so they can all read it. 
BOY GENIUS: Hey Garcia. I wasn’t feeling well so I decided to go home. See you Monday :-)
“What?”
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sebscore · 5 months ago
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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
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pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (she/her pronouns)
warnings: angst. angst. angst. swearing. like a lot of swearing. i cannot write crashes/contact for the life of me. argument. lando and reader are assholes in this. 
author's note: dont even ask me why i wrote this, i got inspired and needed it out of my system. lol. 
masterlist
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''Retire the car. Too much damage. Sorry, Y/N.'' Marco informed her over the radio, sounding frustrated and apologetic over her already finished race. 
The driver took a deep breath before answering. ''Too bad, it was going well. Thanks, guys.'' 
Her race had in fact been going well. She'd made a great start going from P4 to P2, and had managed to keep up with the Red Bull of Max. They weren't even halfway in the race or Lando tried overtaking her, causing contact, causing her to run off in the gravel with too much trouble on the car to continue. 
In her opinion, it had been reckless. The McLaren driver knew exactly she would end up being forced off the track by the overtake, and that her race would most likely be over because of it. 
As she trudged back to the garage, helmet in hand, she could barely contain her frustration. The team greeted her with sympathetic looks, but she didn't stop to talk to anyone. She headed straight for her driver's room, needing a moment to cool off before she could face the media. 
Her hands trembled with anger as she peeled off her gloves, tossing them onto a nearby chair. The season hadn't been going how she had hoped or even expected it to go. Last year she had been the vice World Champion, the undisputed second-best driver on the grid, the only one to essentially have been able to challenge Max's dominance. Now, she got lucky to even end up in the top five of a race. Her team's design of the car hadn't been meeting the expectations the engineers had set, and upgrades weren't helping in the way they had hoped. 
That is why this race weekend had been a great boost for the team's morale and confidence. Qualifying had gone really well, and for a moment they were able to fight for the win even. But the papaya car of No. 4 had shoved their hopes down the drain. 
Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. She turned to see Marco standing there, looking concerned. ''You okay?'' 
''Have I ever been okay,'' she remarked, a sarcastic chuckle leaving her lips. ''I'm just pissed, that's all. I had high hopes for today.'' 
''We all did,'' he smiled sadly. ''The stewards reviewed the incident, but he, uh, didn't get a penalty.'' He said softly, almost as if he was afraid of her reaction.
The young woman let out a bitter laugh. ''Of course he didn't, why would he?'' Her hands covered her face, briefly wiping off the sweat that had formed. 
Marco took a step closer, his expression a mix of empathy and disappointment. ''You drove brilliantly out there. Everyone saw it. The team saw it. It's just... racing politics sometimes.'' 
She dropped her hands, meeting his eyes with a mixture of anger and resignation. ''It's always like that, though. It's always the same drivers suffering the consequences of others, and they don't get shit for it. It is fucking annoying.'' 
Her engineer nodded, understanding everything she was saying. ''I know, we all know. But we keep fighting. We keep pushing. This season isn't over yet.'' 
''Yeah, true.'' She sighed. 
Marco gave her a reassuring smile. ''We'll be ready for the next race. We're all in this together, okay? We're all behind you.'' 
She nodded, feeling a small measure of comfort in his words. ''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' They shared a quick embrace, before he left to join the team again. Meanwhile she got herself ready to go to the media pen. As much as she wanted to hide away, she knew it was part of the job. 
Since she had an early exit, there wasn't much activity inside the area, though there were a bunch of reporters waiting for her. 
''Y/N, tough race today. Can you tell us what happened from your perspective?'' The reporter asked after briefly greeting her. 
''Yeah, it was, uh, challenging, I guess,'' she plastered a smile on her face. ''We had a great start, moving up to P2 and keeping pace with Max. Then, yeah, the contact with Lando. The car had a bunch of damage, and we decided to just retire the car.'' 
''Do you think it was a fair move by him?'' He followed up. 
She paused, weighing her response. ''Racing is always intense, especially at this level. I don't think it was the right move to make, but the stewards saw it as a racing incident.  I'll respect their decision, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.'' 
''You and Lando are good friends, and have been racing against each other since your karting days. Will you talk to him afterwards or just forget about it?'' 
They had expected a question like this, so the media-trained answer came out very quickly. ''It was deemed a racing incident, so there is not much to say further about it.'' 
''How do you and your team plan to bounce back from this setback?'' The reporter for Sky Sports changed the topic. 
''We'll regroup and come back stronger,'' she answered, injecting as much determination into her voice as she could muster. ''This season has been tough, but my team and I are committed to pushing forward. We learn from every race, and today is no different.'' 
''That's great, thank you, Y/N.'' They wrapped up the interview, and she moved onto a new one. 
Once she had spoken to everyone she needed to speak to, she finally had a moment to herself. She knew the words she had just spoken were the right ones, but they did little to soothe the turmoil inside her. 
It didn't help that Lando managed to take the lead, and eventually get his first win. As she watched the remainder of the race from the sidelines, her emotions were all over the place. On the one hand, she was proud of her friend for finally making his dream come true. However, it had come at the expense of her race. She had pushed so hard this season, and to see her friend and rival celebrate his triumph while she stood there with nothing but frustration was almost unbearable. 
The cheers from the McLaren garage echoed in her ears. They celebrated wildly, the joy of his long-awaited victory palpable even from a distance. He was swarmed by his team as they shouted his name. 
The podium ceremony was even worse. As Lando stood on the top step, the British national anthem playing in the background, she couldn't help but replay the moment that had ended her race. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the genuine happiness that came with achieving a lifelong dream. But all she could think about was the contact, the gravel trap, and the wrecked potential of what could have been her race. 
Under any other circumstance, she would have been there for him. She would have run to the ceremony herself, just like he had done for her when she got her first win in F1 and made history as the first woman to do so. But it just stung too deep. 
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''Lando, there was an incident with Y/N that resulted in her retiring from the race. Can you tell us what happened there?'' The Dutch reporter asked the race winner. 
Lando's expression shifted slightly, the euphoria dimming just a bit. ''Uh, yeah. I saw a gap and went for it. It was a tight move, and unfortunately, it led to some contact. But that's racing, you know.'' 
''Have you spoken to her yet?'' 
''Not yet,'' he admitted. ''But I don't think there is much to talk about.'' He chuckled, quickly glancing sideways, but his laugh seemed forced.
''She told Sky Sports that she didn't think you made the right move there.'' The journalist said, instigating a headline for them to be able to use. 
Lando frowned at his words, but recovered. ''Well, that's her opinion. It was just racing for me.'' 
''So you don't regret making the move?'' The reporter pressed on. 
The Brit took a deep breath before answering. ''I regret that it ended her race. But as a racer, you have to take chances. It's a fine line, you know.''
The older man in front of him nodded at his response, knowing they had gotten a glimpse of the tension that was present between the fan-favorite duo. ''Thank you, Lando. Congratulations again.'' 
''Thank you.'' 
With that, the interview wrapped up, and Lando moved onto the next reporter. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, so why was everyone talking to him as if he had done something wrong? 
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Y/N was struggling to unwind. The events of the day played over and over in her mind, each replay more frustrating than the last. She tried to distract herself by either watching some TikToks or TV, but nothing could drown out her thoughts. The texts from her friends, family and team certainly didn't help. It was a nice gesture, but she didn't want to think about the race anymore and the messages weren't helping. Finally, she decided to call it a night and climbed into bed, hoping sleep would offer some respite. 
Just as she was starting to drift off, another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It was unusual for someone to bother her this late, especially when she was winding down in her hotel room.
She frowned and got out of bed, opening the door to find Lando standing there, wearing his signature grin, acting nonchalant as ever. ''You wanna come celebrate with us? We rented a club.'' 
Y/N frowned at him, confused over his casual behavior. ''No.'' She scoffed, offended by the mere thought. 
It was now Lando's turn to frown at his friend. ''Why?'' 
She crossed her arms, incredulous at his obliviousness. ''Why? Are you taking the fucking piss out of me or something.'' 
His grin faltered slightly, but he tried to maintain his composure. ''If this is about the racing incident then you're being ridiculous.'' 
Her eyes widened in disbelief, her frustration boiling over. ''I am being ridiculous? You were ridiculous with that move you pulled!'' She retorted, raising her voice. ''You ran me off the track knowing how hard this season has fucking been for me. You know how much I needed a good result today and you ruined it for me!'' 
''Y/N, I get that you're upset, but it's racing. These things are bound to happen. I saw a gap and I went for it. The stewards didn't even penalize me, so clearly, it wasn't as bad as you're making it out to be.'' He was restraining from rolling his eyes, she could tell. 
She scoffed, shaking her head. ''Oh, so now you're agreeing with the stewards? Now that it is benefitting you? And there was no fucking gap, you were just being selfish. You knew what you were doing, and you didn't care how it would affect me.'' 
Lando's face hardened, his patience wearing thin. ''I didn't do it on purpose to screw you over, where the fuck are you getting that from? I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That's what we do out there. You know that better than anyone." 
''If that opportunity was ruining my fucking race, then yeah, you really took the opportunity, Norris.'' She rolled her eyes, voice tinged with sarcasm. 
He took a step closer, his frustration now matching hers. ''I'm sorry that you didn't get the result you wanted today, I really am. But I am not going to apologize for racing and doing my job, Y/N.'' 
She simply glared at him, disappointed in how he was acting towards her. They'd never really had an argument before, at least not one where they couldn't see each other's point. They'd been frustrated with each other before, but it was always in reason. 
''If anything, I should be angry with you- not the other way.'' Lando suddenly said. 
''Why's that?'' She sneered, almost in disbelief that he would have a valid reason. 
''Because you didn't even have the fucking guts to congratulate me,'' he snapped back, ''when you won Silverstone, I was literally one of the first people to hug you and congratulate you for your win. I stood next to your fucking parents, Y/N! And today you didn't even bother doing anything.'' 
Her mouth fell open, a mix of shock and anger flooding her veins. ''You are unbelievable… You ruined my fucking race, Lando! How am I supposed to stand there and cheer for you when you cost me everything today?'' 
He rolled his eyes while throwing up his hands. ''This isn't just about today. You're just jealous because my season has been going so much better than yours. You can't fucking stand that for one time I'm doing actually better than you.'' 
''Jealous… of you?'' The words came out like laughter, slightly hurting the McLaren driver's ego. ''You think I can't be happy for you because I'm not doing as well? That's so low, Lando.'' 
''Ever since the start of the season you've been so moody and distant, and now you can't even say or even fucking text me a congratulations for my first win. You're so pissed that I got a win before you this season, you can't even hide it.'' He shot back. 
''Oh, give me a break. Like you wouldn't act the same if you were getting all these shit results. Maybe I didn't congratulate you because I was too busy trying to scrape gravel out of my fucking tires.'' She remarked, throwing in the sarcastic comment. 
Lando looked unimpressed by her remark. ''You're just mad cause I'm outshining you. You can't fucking stand that I'm getting all the attention.'' 
''Outshining me? Are you hearing yourself?'' She mocked him, laughing bitterly. ''You get one win and you're acting like you're a fucking World Champion already. You've been riding Max's dick these last years hoping some of his success will rub off on you. Newsflash Norris, everyone is just fucking laughing at you.'' 
His face turned red, either embarrassment or anger. ''At least I'm not constantly whining about my car and blaming everyone else for my problems. Maybe if you spent more time focusing on your driving and less on complaining, you'd have more to celebrate.'' 
''You're a fucking spoiled brat who can't stand some competition. You think everything should be handed to you on a silver platter.'' She retorted. 
''And you're a fucking baby who throws a temper tantrum everytime you don't get what you want. It's time to fucking grow up, Y/N!'' He shouted, his voice rising with each word. 
She took a step closer to him. ''You should spend less time trying to prove yourself to people who don't give a shit about you, and more time trying to be a decent fucking human being. I'm ashamed to call you one of my best friends.'' 
That last sentence had clearly hit a nerve or several nerves. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. ''Fuck you, Y/N. Enjoy your pity party.'' Lando turned and walked away, joining his friends who were waiting in the lobby. 
She watched him go, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and heartbreak. She could feel the pulse of her racing heart, the adrenaline from their argument making her feel jittery and unsteady. 
A lump formed in her throat as she replayed the last few minutes in her mind. She cringed internally at the words she had fired at Lando, while also trying to ignore the sting from his own harsh words. She wondered how they would be able to come back from this. They had never been in a situation like this before, and she knew that she would never want to be in this situation again. 
The young woman knew that she had let her emotions get the best of her. She had always prided herself on being fair and understanding, but now she felt ashamed of herself. 
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another door opening. George peeked out, concern etched on his face. ''Y/N, you okay?'' 
She shook her head, not wanting to deal with anyone else. ''Mind your business, Russell.'' She retreated back into her room, not before slamming the door behind her. 
As she leaned against the closed door, the weight of the evening pressed down on her. The room felt too small, her emotions too big. She slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest, and let the tears she had been holding back finally fall.
Even when she finally got up, even when she tucked herself in again for the final time, and even when she tossed and turned the entire night, the same question lingered in her mind. 
Are they still friends? 
The question haunted her, gnawing at her thoughts every time she closed her eyes. She replayed the argument over and over, dissecting every word, every expression. The hurt in his eyes, the anger in his voice- it all felt so raw and irreversible. 
As the hours dragged on, sleep remained elusive. The darkness of the room mirrored the uncertainty in her heart. She knew they both needed time to cool off, to reflect, but the thought of facing Lando again filled her with dread.
The first light of dawn began to seep through the curtains, and she felt no more at ease than she had the night before. 
Are they still friends? 
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story ideas are always welcome, but remember that it can take a while for me to get to it! :)
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my-autism-adhd-blog · 1 year ago
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Alright people…it’s A N G R Y time! 😡
A boy was kicked out of a New Jersey movie theater after using the bathroom with his mom. This instantly made me angry because some people with high support needs do need help using the bathroom sometimes.
According to this report:
The incident began when Gallinaro’s son needed to use the bathroom and she took him into the women’s restroom. There is no family restroom at the Cinemark in Hazlet, according to the lawsuit.
“My son is not equipped to go into a men’s bathroom in a public setting alone,” Gallinaro told NJ Advance Media last week. “I took him to the women’s bathroom.”
There were other women in the restroom, some of them mothers, she said.
“Right away, they see he’s with me. They pick up why he’s in the bathroom with me,” she said, noting that she noticed one woman “looking at me smiling.”
The 59-year-old manager of the movie theater wasn’t as understanding, the suit alleges.
The manager angrily approached and “shouted blatantly discriminatory remarks” toward the mother and the 15-year-old, the lawsuit alleges.
“A grown man should not be in the women’s restroom,” the manager said in the crowded lobby, according to the suit. “This is not a transgender bathroom.”
Even though there were no other complaints, the manager allegedly ordered the Gallinaros off the property and directed an assistant manager to call the police, the suit states.
This is complete discrimination. Please reblog this to help spread the word. This can’t keep happening.
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boiohboii · 7 months ago
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The Lost Keychain
(Max Verstappen x f!reader)
When Max loses a key chain gifted to him by his girlfriend, the world realises that a race track isn't the only thing he dominates in.
or
When Max's girlfriend shocks the world about how she has 2 different personalities.
WARNINGS: NOT PROOFREAD, JUST SOMETHING QUICK, A BIT SUGGESTIVE. no actual smut but description of a spicy position in a photo and a suggestive quote engraved on key chain.
Masterlist
Everyone knows how much Max hates media days and reporters invading his privacy, he hates talking about his personal life, especially his girlfriend.
When they first started dating Max tried to keep her away from the media as much as possible, and no one blamed him seeing how sweet, kind and lovely she is, nowadays some of his fans even save her from reporters during race weekends, everyone loved her and they all followed Max's footsteps into protecting the sweet, shy girl.
So maybe this was his fault, actually scratch that, it is definitely his fault, he shouldn't have lost such a precious gift. He feels like everyone is watching his every move much more than usual ever since the incidence at the redbull garage got out, but what can he do, after all a gift like that shouldn't have even been outside of his hotel room.
"Guys, who lost their keychain?"
A redbull mechanic screamed over the noise as he waves the found item around, jiggling sounds from what appears to be multiple house keys and two gate keys gradually drawing the attention of the entire redbull garage.
"Why would anyone even bring their house keys to the garage?" an intern dismissed "none of us have a house in this country man."
Shrugging, the mechanic decided to keep it with him until it's owner realises, and until then he decided to just examine it, maybe there'd be a clue of who it belongs to.
The chocking sound alerted some fellow mechanics, making them get closer to the one who was now red faced with wide eyes looking at the lost keychain.
"Damn," a mechanic said as he took the keychain "that's one lucky motherfucker"
Other mechanics make their way over to the commotion, a crowd forming to see why such an item is taking so much attention.
It was a silver keychain, that much was seen by all the mechanics from afar, what wasn't seen from afar however was what had all of them coughing awkwardly, some even blushing.
On one side of the diamond shaped chain you can see the words 'welcum home. Dinner is ready.' Now, you would think that the pun is just weirdly placed and doesn't match with the sweet message, but the message was intended to be anything but sweet. Turning the chain to its other face, you would see another engravement. A picture. A woman who appeared to be resting on a flat surface supporting her weight on one elbow so that she can lift her torso up, with her legs wide open, palm covering her and a bike helmet on her head. But it wasn't a bike helmet, it was a helmet with an outline that's eerily similar to the design of Max Verstappen's 2021 helmet.
"Holy shit."
"Do you think-"
"Hey, has anyone seen a silver diamond shaped keychain?" The familiar voice of their three times world champion cut through their talking, making them all look like they were 5 year old children with their hand in a cookie jar way past their bedtime. And Max noticed.
Walking closer to the mechanics Max's cheeks got redder and redder with each step, coughing and smiling awkwardly.
"So," clearing his throat in a failed attempt to make things not so tense "that's mine, give it back."
Trembling hands dropped the silver item into Max's awaiting palm before he clenched it around the treasured chain, turning and taking his leave.
"What did you guys do to Max? His face and ears are all red." GP's voice cut through the awkward atmosphere, no one knowing what to say or do.
Noticing the environment and reading the room, GP laughed as he looked at the rest of his colleges. "Did he lose the keychain again?"
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karinab00bs · 5 months ago
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Can i request Karina x Male Reader office sex?
Cubicle Rival
Karina x male reader
tags: nipple play, fingering
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Nearly everyone in the building had left for the day by ten minutes after fifteen; the janitor had even switched off the lights on purpose to prevent anyone from working overtime. Karina and you remained in the same room where they'd been working; the woman had taken off her blazer and was draping it over the back of her chair, while the man had rolled up his long sleeves to his elbows. As long as their report received approval and they could return home, their looks held little concern.
"Mr. Ethan hasn't replied?" Karina asked you since you had been refreshing your email. Waiting for the first message in their inbox determined whether they could go home early or stay in the office longer.
"Not just yet.” Perhaps sloppily or exhausted, you respond, "It's still being checked."
Karina says, her tone unpleasant to hear: "It's half past eleven; is it crazy that Mr. Ethan still wants to check the report?"
"Why are you anyway blaming Mr. Ethan? You know he is a perfectionist. He promised to wait until today; hence, he will wait until twelve. You are the one who is wrong; why would you hand over such a critical report to an intern who is already on his way home at five? It's not going to be right," you ramble, drawing visible eyebrows furrowing on Karina.
"Why are you blaming me? Blame Ms. Je for putting the director's daughter in our division. What do you think I can do if she's nagging me to do a report? Tell her you can't do your job like that?" Karina started pounding on the table; maybe both of them were already tired, so they were more sensitive and easily ignited.
"You could try pointing the finger at other people. You brought Mr. Ethan and now Ms. Je; pointing fingers at others won't make them do anything or prevent such incidents in the future. Do you also intend to hold the intern responsible, given his obvious ignorance in preparing the report? Indeed, it is your responsibility to consider this matter. How can a child, lacking any knowledge, solve such a significant problem? You, equally irritated, began pointing at Karina as if assigning blame.
"Now you're blaming me?"
You didn't have time to reply to Karina's words because a call came into your cell phone from Mr. Ethan.
"Yes, sir? Yes, thank you very much, sir. I'll send it later. I will finish it in 15 minutes. Thank you very much, sir." You disconnected the phone and looked at Karina. The man sighed softly before saying to karina, "The report is okay; I just need to check for typos. I'll finish it first. Can you get me a coffee?"
Karina was silent for a second before responding, "Fine." 
Upon seeing Karina exit the office, you instinctively shut your eyes.
Although Karina was really terrified to visit the pantry by herself since all the lights had been turned off, she couldn't resist your demand so that everything would be finished rapidly and she could head home. Under low lighting, she began preparing two cups of coffee in paper cups, using a combination of saset coffee and sugar, to ensure you wouldn't have any complaints about the taste. She carried the black coffee paper cups with both hands, but her foot stumbled on something, and one cup of coffee spilled on her chest. "Ah." Karina turned to show a faint smile. Indeed, it appears that she has paid the price for all her mistakes over the past year. Why is this so unlucky?
She took off her shirt, which was full of spilled coffee, and then she walked back towards her office.
She gently opened the door, and she found you closing your eyes and leaning on your chair. Okay, the initial plan was for Karina to stealthily walk to her cubicle, retrieve her blazer, and put it on before you woke up. Karina then crept over, set the coffee she had produced next to your laptop, and hurried to her cubicle.
You blinked up at the scent of coffee, but your attention quickly went from the paper cup on her desk to the figure of Karina, who was unclasping her bra. Fuck.
"What on earth are you doing?" you inquired, your voice quivering with disbelief. 
"My shirt is all sticky from spilling coffee," Karina answered, her bare back now showing.
"Are you not afraid of me doing anything to you?" You asked while getting up from the chair to get a box of tissues. The man was now sitting on Karina's chair, and you could clearly see the girl's large, saggy breasts. While the woman sat at her desk.
"You and I fight every day; I doubt you have any desire to do anything to me, even though I'm naked in front of you right now," Karina replied confidently.
"Do you think if I were naked in front of you, you'd be horny?" Your question made Karina snort in annoyance.
"No, it's crazy to lust after you," Karina said, folding her arms across her chest, making her breasts pop out even more as if challenging you.
"I have submitted the report, and Mr. Ethan accepted it. You raised one eyebrow and said, "All that remains is your business with me."
"What business is it? I have nothing to do with you. Better turn back; my body is all sticky and a little blistering thanks to the hot water dispenser," Karina said, looking down at her coffee-sticky chest.
"You're sure you won't lust after me, right?" you asked again.
"No."
"I'll just clean it so it's not sticky and then go home," you said. "Shut up." You looked down and swept your tongue over every inch of Karina's breasts to clean the coffee off her skin, occasionally giving the man a light sip.
"What the hell are you doing?" Karina tried to keep your head from coming closer to her body, but then she froze as the tip of your tongue rubbed against her nipple. Damn. It was so good.
"They say it's better to use saliva or running water when it's hot." You soaked Karina's upper body, including her skirt, with the remaining water from the glass she used to drink.
"Fuck, what are you doing? I swear.. I'm wet.."
"Wet, huh?" You lowered your head and took one of Karina's nipples into your mouth, sucking gently, while your other hand wiped Karina's body with a tissue.
Karina bit her lip, both hands clutching the edge of the table she was sitting on. "You won't lust, right? There's no way you'll lust after me; after all, I'm just cleaning you."
"Hurry up and clean it.. I'm going back." Karina's words made you smile.
You took a tissue and, using both hands, rubbed Karina's nipples with it. While closing her eyes, the girl looked up. She hadn't felt a touch on her body in a long time, so a touch like this sent her into a trance. Indeed, your skill level is beyond reproach. Just observe how the tissue continues to twist both Karina's nipples, creating a more pleasurable sensation. You idly pinched Karina's nipples so hard that she couldn't help but moan.
"Don't be horny; I'm just cleaning it," you said half-mockingly.
"I'm not fucking horny." Karina's answer made you laugh. You pulled down Karina's panties and let them fall to the floor.
"It's just wet," you teased with a finger that had rubbed Karina's pussy. "I'm just cleaning it; you don't want to feel uncomfortable."
"What the hell are you doing- ahhh ..." Your tongue entered to explore Karina's pleasure hole with your finger stroking the small object on it, creating a stifled moan from Karina's lips, which made you smile because, after all, Karina's sigh had made you win. You deliberately inserted two of your fingers, then scratched Karina's pussywall rather roughly, causing her affection to shift to her clitoris. "A-ahhh.. ahhh.."
"Why mm? Is it good? You said you wouldn't lust after me, but you're so wet, Rina." Karina stared resentfully at your face as she bit her lower lip, deliberately holding back a moan so as not to feed your ego. "Why do you want to end it?" you asked, bending your two fingers precisely at Karina's weakest point, and soon her pleasure juices melted away.
"Damn you.." said Karina in the end, while catching her breath.
"1-0, there is no need to deny that you are also horny for me," you said with a chuckle, and you lowered your head to lick Karina's pussy, which had just reached its release.
"Watch out; I'll get you back."
"I can't wait," you replied as she helped put the blazer on Karina's body.
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jk-kiwi · 29 days ago
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The 90’s case
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The 90’s case (18+)
Characters -  assistant detective JK x detective Y/N reader (Woman)
Summary - Another case in your pocket, but this time, solving it could grant you everything you’ve ever wanted.
Genre - Crime investigation, suggestive/smut, maybe slight angst, the action takes place in the 90's, THIS is fiction!
Warnings - a dead body, cheating!, the reader is married to Namjoon, they investigate a crime, fictional characters, mentions of diabetes, autopsy and overdose, some swear words.
Warnings for the not so holy parts (18+) - I’ll try to detail, so… kissing, mentions of arousal, mentions of female and male body parts, unprotected (please be safe!), he cums inside…(PLEASE BE SAFE!), he’s a little possessive, I think, a little rough, hitting your sweet spots and all, not much detailing. 
MINORS PLEASE STAY AWAY!
Author’s note - This is a story I wrote in 2020. I refined it and reposted it here with some extra spicy stuff. Y/L/N is your last name. Enjoy!
Word count - 4.1k
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“What do you think about this, Miss Y/L/N” one of the cops asks, while dozens search for clues in the house. A normal death as supposed by the covers. “Interesting indeed.” you say, looking through the magnifying glass, taking in every detail.
“How long do you think it's been like this?” he asks with disgust, looking at the poor man. He was dead. “Oh, I assure you Mr. Choi hasn't been dead for more than 5 hours.” you say confidently.
“Do you think it was a heart attack?” you humm curiously, staring at the lifeless body that sits in the bathtub.
“Ask for some tissue samples, I’ll definitely come with a response after I get the autopsy reports.” you yawn tiredly, all the work you have been doing recently piling up on your body. 
Since when did crimes became so popular?
“Let’s do a good job, just as always.” he says, taking off his glove to shake your hand, before exiting the bathroom.
“And, any news from the expert?” says the man waiting for you outside, his body resting on the wall. “Let's not rush to conclusions, Jungkook. For now we know very little about the victim.” you smile at him, patting his arm in order to follow you down the stairs.
The place was packed with police since this morning, when the Choi family found out about the tragic incident. “What do we know about the victim until now?” Jungkook asks, opening the door of his Trabant 600, letting you hop on the right seat before taking off, him driving. 
“Name:Dong-He Choi, age: 57, medical report shows that the only problem he had was diabetes?” you question, the report, poor in details. “Too much insulin?” He interupts. “Don't interrupt me, Jungkook.” 
“Although I don't think he took too much insulin, his family said he took great care of his health.”
The man keeps silent, letting you cross over the details listed. “Family of 5 members, wife and 3 children along with him. It says here that his mother also lives there, the place estimated to cost around…10 million dollars?!” 
Jungkook whistles in disbelief. “Wow, no wonder they live in that huge mansion.”
“Don’t worry, that’s just their main house, it says here that they also have a vacation home in Manhattan, two in Japan and a condo in China.” you exclaim.
“It smells more like murder to me, he was packed, filthy rich!” You sigh, already knowing this was going to be a huge pain that you will have to deal with. You were the main detective after all.
“I don’t know what to say, he had no signs of abuse or struggle other than the injury on his head, probably from falling face first into the tub.” all the details crossing your mind, trying to picture what happened.
“I didn’t find anything unusual at the crime scene.” you throw the pieces of paper in the backseat closing your eyes in annoyance, why now out of all times. Why would your life get so busy the moment you were close to your lowest?
“Did you speak with the family, maybe they gave some relevant info.” the man glimpse slightly over your tired figure before answering. 
“His mother was in shock. Oldest son with his girlfriend, allegedly on a date, his daughters went to bed at 9, didn’t hear anything unusual during the night.” you hum, useless information once again.
“How about the wife, what’s her alibi?” 
“She found him in the morning, they were sleeping in separate rooms recently, apparently their married life was not as sweet as it appeared.” you turn your head to look outside the window, the situation seemingly familiar leaving a feeling of bitterness crawl down your throat.
“We’re almost at your house. Looks like your hubby is here too.” Jungkook notices, his car parked in your driveway. “What’s he doing here at this hour, he should’ve been at work.” you mumble making Jungkook shrug.
“How long are you going to keep doing this?” he questions, you remain silent for a moment before looking eyes with the boy. “My personal life is not your business.” you reply coldly. “I would say otherwise…hey!” he tries to argue, but you get out of the car waving at him, loving how annoyed he’s gotten.
Your steps take you closer, taking in a deep breath and preparing your forced smile before entering the house. “Hey sweetie!” his melodious voice greets you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
The man comes closer to you, his lips leaving a small peck on your forehead. “Back already? Didn’t you have a new case?” he questions with a raised brow. “I could ask the same thing, shouldn’t you be in the office?” you reply, taking off your jacket, placing it on the rack.
Namjoon looks at you a little stunned before composing himself, a chuckle escaping his lips. “I forgot something important, I was about to go back anyway.” he takes his paperwork, key and jacket before throwing you a last glance, exiting the house.
You sigh, the smell of strong woman perfume lingering around. Her perfume.Your husband has been cheating on you for a while with his secretary, a woman 10 years younger than him, you already knew. He kept excusing himself with “business meetings” out of town and all the late night working under the pretext of “I just had so much paperwork to do.” his actions were obvious.
You were a detective after all, it was your job to be observant, years of practice bringing you to the point you were seeing through people like through crystal clear glass. Plus, he was “your” man, you knew him better after all these years you’ve been together.
And even if you didn’t want to believe it at first, the traces of red lipstick, one that you never wore, were far more evidence than needed.
You were stuck, you knew he was cheating but you also couldn’t bring yourself to leave him. You were to people with important jobs and bigger concerns than love, too different from the beginning but way to blind to see. In any case, the divorce would only bring more trouble into your busy lives.
You didn’t even feel that hurt about his actions, the love between you not existing anymore. That’s why you kept going like this, letting him meet her knowing they were far more suitable for each other. 
It’s not like you were better anyways. You felt devastated when you found out, although it was expected, the only person bringing you comfort in that situation being none other than your assistant, Jungkook.
He already knew you well enough, and you’ve told him all kinds of stories along the years you’ve worked together. It was easier to forget what was happening when he was holding you close in his embrace.
The first time you gave in and stepped wrong, cheating on your husband with him, felt wrong, guilty even. But the man knew how to bring you back to him, to his bed, way too good. 
Maybe it was the shared passion for crimes and mysteries, or the fact that he always listened to your worries, ending up caring for you better than your own husband.
You lay on your bed, the curtains closed. You try to get some sleep, but the case keeps you awake. It felt weird, not like sudden death, but murder.
You could not focus on anything when a case was feeling like this, so you get your phone, ready to dial his number, in a sudden being interrupted by the heavy knock on your front door.
Rushing downstairs, you think it’s Namjoon again, coming to get some other stuff he’s forgotten about, but to your surprise it’s Jungkook.
“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you ask surprised, seeing him scratch the back of his neck shyly. “I thought we could work some more on the case.” did he even leave in the first place? That was the question you couldn’t bring to ask.
You smile, raising a brow, making way for the man to get inside, his grin brighter than ever. “I think we both know we're not gonna end up talking about the case.” you tease, making him look at you with lustful eyes.
“What do you mean?” he asks, stepping closer, your fingers caressing his chest. “You and me, alone. My husband…at work.” you whisper seductively.
“And what’s so wrong with that? He’s a jerk anyways.” he says, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You play this game further, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. 
“That’s what I was thinking too, and it’s not like you can keep your hands away from me for a second either. Let's not forget I'm a married woman, Jungkook.” your eyes scan him, he’s already way to worked up, you take it above one more step wrapping his arms around his neck.
“You husband is busy, but I’m not. I can take better care than him.” he says, his lips leaving slow, lingering kisses around your neck. “I think the case can wait, I have other important business I need to take care of.”
Jungkook lifts you up making your feet wrap around his torso, his lips never leaving your neck. And you know that once again you commit the same crime, letting this man in your house, in your bed, but the worst…in your heart.
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Wrapped in a blanket, both trying to catch your breath after solving the “case” found in Jungkook’s pants.
He takes a big gulp of air, leaning back on your pillows, arms spread, his face showing pure bliss.
“Wow, this was breathtaking.” he says while watching you. “It’s not my fault you’re getting old.” you respond, leaning to get the files scattered on the floor, finally working on something that’s important.
“You still have work on your mind after all of this?” 
“Yes” you respond, getting out of the bed “I think we should work on it, isn’t this why you came?” you pick up his shirt, dressing yourself in it.
“Hey, that’s mine! What am I supposed to wear?” he asks in an upset tone, but with a shit-eating grin on his face making you roll your eyes.
“You don’t have to wear anything, I like it better anyways.” you wink before leaving the room, hearing the boy whine.
“This woman is gonna kill me one day…” he thinks before gathering his belongings, following you to the kitchen.
You were focused, munching on a biscuit, your eyes scanning the report papers up and down.
“Something’s not right here.” Jungkook suits himself too, grabbing a cup of water before chugging it down in one go.
“Why do you think that?” he asks, looking over your focused figure. You throw his shirt off going back to your room to properly dress up before tossing him the car keys. ���We need to go back to the Choi mansion, I have a bad feeling.”
Jungkook complies, knowing your judgement is never wrong, taking no time in dressing up and in just mere seconds you were in the trabant, rushing to the Choi mansion.
Soon you arrive, the big gates opening like already expecting you. Getting out of the car you knock on the door, the air feeling eerie around.
“Oh, detective Y/L/N?” the woman who opened the door, Miss Choi, asks surprised. “We’re sorry to interrupt so soon, but is it okay if we look through your husband’s belongings? It’s important to the case.” Jungkook says in a sensitive tone.
She nods, tears gathering in her eyes at the mention of her dead husband. You two enter with her following behind, leading you to the lounge. “There’s not much left, the police already took most for the investigation, but you can have a look around if you want to.”
She takes you to her husband’s room, leaving right after to get some drinks and snacks.
“They were not joking when he said the cops took everything.” your remark while looking under a desk.
“What are these?” your assistant asks while pulling something from under a shelf. “Just some old magazines, where did you get them?” he points to the place making you go and inspect.
“Let’s move this.” you both get your hands on the shelf dragging it away, a mountain of old newspaper and wrappers falling from behind it.
“Chocolate?” you say after picking up one from the floor. “Wow, that’s a lot of candy for a diabetic.” you shoot him a look gathering more from the floor.
“They are not even expired, they must have been consumed recently.” you stuck some in your purse before moving everything back to place. You look around for some more information before something in the distance catches your eye.
“Jungkook, look at this.” you motion to the backyard, approaching the window for a better look. “It’s smoke.” he says, sitting next to you. “Yeah, definitely someone started it not long ago, I’m going to investigate.” 
You rush out of the room with the boy following your steps. “Y/N, this is dangerous, I’m coming with you!” he says while catching your arm, concern plastered all over his face.
“You stay here, we can’t bring too much attention. If they ask, I'm in the spare bathroom.” you say before sneaking out the house, your phone ringing in your purse.
“Y/L/N on the phone.” it’s the policeman on the other line, the guy you talked with this morning. “The autopsy results are in. He had an insulin overdose, felt sick and then hit his head on the bathtub.” 
“Yeah, great, I’m a little busy so I’ll call you later.” he doesn’t get to say another word, you end the call, getting closer to the smoke source.
“What even? That’s weird.” in front of you, laying in dim fire, a bunch of papers and documents. You put it out the best you can trying to save what’s left before your foot stomps onto something hard.
A watch.
You pick it up, scanning it before a chill of realisation hits you, making you rush back inside knowing you left Jungkook there all alone.
“Hi, this is Y/N Y/L/N on the phone. Get the guys and come to the mansion, Choi was murdered.” you manage to say to the police officer before barging in, surprising Miss Choi and Jungkook in the process.
“Don’t drink that!” You rush towards the man hitting the cup from his hands, making it hit the ground breaking in thousands of shards.
“Y/N what the hell! You spilled all the tea on me! What's wrong with you?” but you’re too focused on his well being, cupping his face in your palms, forcing him to look into your eyes, heart racing in fear.
“Tell me you didn’t drink it.” you ask with worry “No, you just threw it out of my hand!” you sigh in relief, composing yourself in order to confront Miss Choi.
“Miss Choi, where was your son the night your husband died?” you harshly question. “With his girlfriend? Why are you acting so strange?” she looks taken aback.
“Because he killed his father, along with you. Am I mistaken?” you look at her, dead in the eyes, her posture stiff. “That’s nonsense!” she raises from her chair in disbelief.
“You know what, that’s it! This conversation is over, please get out of my house!” She comes closer to push you out, but Jungkook is quick to act, shielding you.
You hear the police sirens ring, the doors of the mansion opening in a rush. “I hope you have a great explanation for this, detective.” the police officer says while pointing his gun at Miss Choi.
“I found this in your backyard, Miss Choi.” you start, pulling the burned pieces from your bag. “The true medical records of your husband and some other interesting details. You must have loved him…or should I say his money?” you browse through the burnt papers, pointing once you find the important section.
“Aha, there it is! If the two of you were to divorce you would not get any fortune? This must be your prenup. But! If it was for your husband to pass away as a natural cause…you would inherit everything. Does this sound familiar?” you look at the woman, her face showing pure horror.
“Oh, what is this? Divorce papers, all signed up just for you, but I guess your signature is not on them.” the woman gets pale as a ghost, her hands trembling. 
“T-this, this is not true! Are you trying to frame me?!” she stutters while trying to keep herself composed.
“Not at all, they have sigils, stamps and original signatures, easy to check for fakes. But I suppose you need to wait a little longer, we’re just getting to the highlight of the story. The medical reports.” You throw the pieces of paper on the coffee table, keeping only the most important one.
“Mister Choi has never had diabetes.” you say with a smile on your face. “He just wanted to divorce you, and you couldn’t accept it.” the woman starts to pant for air, her hands gripping her chest.
“Miss Choi, is this true?” the policeman asks. “I didn’t want to come to this! He, he was divorcing me! I was about to lose everything!” she shouts in despair, uncovering her sick actions.
The police man gets his cuffs, putting them around her wrists.
“Miss Choi, you are under arrest for the death of Mister Choi, everything you say is and will be used against you.” she starts crying, sobbing while shouting that she didn’t want to do all this.
You throw the watch to one of the police assistants. “Get his son as well, his watch was near the pile of burnt paper.” you say staring at the scene unfolding in front of you, some realization hitting you as well.
You sigh relieved, happy that you managed to successfully solve yet another case. Jungkook drives you home, the peace around you a little too peaceful.
“Why did you hit my hand?” he asks, breaking the silence. “I was afraid she was going to put something in your tea.” you admit hearing him hum before stopping in front of your house. The atmosphere around you is quiet, the dusk setting in.
“Your husband got home.” he mentions. “Yeah, he has.” you sadly acknowledge.
You say goodbye and enter the house, your husband in the kitchen. “I heard you solved the case! Congratulations!” Namjoon says, coming closer to you, a glass of wine in his hand.
“Yes, I did.” you take the glass, swirling it around before placing it on the counter.
“Namjoon, we need to talk.” you say while looking into his eyes, it was time.
-----------------------------------
Your heart was pounding in your chest sitting in front of the door, wondering if you should knock or not. “Come on Y/N, you can do it.” you say before knocking once, your heart exploding while hearing his voice on the other side.
“Coming!” You fix your hair and put up a big smile when Jungkook opens the door, dressed only in a pair of gray sweatpants, his skin smelling like fresh soap from a mile away.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asks, confused. “I figured we could work on some cases, mind if I come in?” you rush to say, feeling slightly embarrassed.
“Yeah, sure, but…is everything okay?” he asks while letting you inside, putting a black t-shirt on.
“Do you love me?”
“What question is that?” his cheeks get brighter at your sudden boldness.
“I just want you to be honest with me, do you love me or not?” you ask again, looking at his rigid form.
“Well…I want to say yes.”
“Then say yes.”
“You are married, Y/N.” he finally lets out, a pang tugging at his heart knowing he souldn't feel the way he’s feeling.
“Not anymore.” you whisper, showing your ringless finger. “I’m divorcing.”
“What.” he lets out in disbelief.
“Mister Choi’s case made me realize something, you can’t stay with a person for what he has or what he can give you. I want someone that loves me and knows how to cherish me.” you shyly say before locking eyes with the man in front of you.
“Then yes, I love you. So, so much. I’ve loved you for the past years, ever since I got assigned to be your assistant.” he comes closer to you, sticking his chest to yours, but not touching further.
“You drive me crazy in so many ways, you’re smart and can unravel even the most tangled cases. You’re to die for pretty and so sexy when you look at me with those eyes of yours, it makes me jealous to know I couldn’t find you first.” he finally touches you, his fingers gently cupping your waist.
“I’m so mad when I think of that stupid ex husband of yours managing to have you all for himself just to cheat and leave you weak and exposed. Or when I think of way too many ways to make you look at me, to let me claim you.” his face comes closer to yours, many emotions erupting between the both of you.
“Or when I get that sweet taste of your lips, and I rip those moans out, making me so fucking proud to please you, even if it’s wrong.” he kisses you, slow and tangy, but not for long, letting you desire for more.
“I love you. I’m greedy and I want you all for myself.” your eyes get teary, a feeling of comfort, safeness getting into you. You felt at home.
Wrapping your arms around the man you bring him close enough to whisper onto his lips. “Then have me for yourself.” you say, enough words for Jungkook to comply. Shoving your clothes off in no go, leaving you exposed only for his eyes to see, passion burning around the apartment.
His hands lead you to his bedroom, shoving you in his bed, not breaking the hot kiss he’s gotten you trapped in. 
He pulls the t-shirt over his head, his pants following right after. You look with so much love and lust at him, your hands bringing him closer by the band of his boxers, making him whine.
“Pull them off, baby.” his tone, seductive, encouraging you to touch him further. You do it, taking off his boxers, letting his cock spring free in front of you.
“Y/N, if you keep looking at me with those eyes of yours, I’ll cum right now.” he admits, slightly embarrassed, face flustered, aching member leaking with arousal.
“Should we get to the good part then?” you question, biting your lip.
“All of this is the good part…” 
You lay down, not breaking eye contact, letting him climb on top. His hands rest on your thighs spreading them nice and wide. “You’re drippin’ baby.” his eyes never leave your sloppy count.
“Just do something, Kook, I’m dying here.” he chuckles before gripping his cock, giving it a few tugs before bringing it closer to your entrance.
“From today, only I get to see and touch this.” he possessively says, licking his lips before pushing his tip inside of you, making you moan.
“You’re so hot and tight.” he whimpers, bowing his head at the sensitivity. “Please move.” you mewl, waiting for him to start pounding you the way you deserve.
He starts off slow, wanting the moment to last, but in a couple of minutes his peace gets faster and faster, making you see stars in the process.
You whine and cry underneath him, feeling so full and so good, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, letting you know you made the right choice to leave your husband for him.
He was pulling your strings so well, grunting every now and then when he touched that sweet spot of yours making you squirm or when you moaned too loud, knowing he'd hit your cervix just a little too deep.
“Jungkook! I’m close!” you shout, the ceiling above you turning from black to white. He keeps his rough pace, hitting deeper and deeper if possible. 
“I’m close too, baby.” he whispers before giving one last thrust, spilling his hot seed inside of you, claiming you as his.
You reach your high as well, fingers clawing at his back, trying to bring him in for some closure, both of your arousal slipping your fluttering core. He rests his head on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, kissing your neck every now and then.
You raise his head, swearing you could see an entire galaxy into his eyes. He was yours now, and you were his, both of you ready to throw everything aside for each other.
You smile lovely at him, knowing he will forever be your happy place, your passion, your crime.
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coco-loco-nut · 8 months ago
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Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?
Pairing: None
Summary: Being a woman in F1 has it's challenges, especially when you are constantly seen as a threat
A/n: McLaren history revision, actually, a lot of it might not make complete logical sense, just ignore that. i’m not great at angst
requests open masterlist ttpd masterlist
_________
You've scared everyone in the F1 world since you started driving in 2014 for McLaren, more dominant than Max Verstappen, the only driver other than Lewis Hamilton to challenge you. Your aggressive driving style and ability to get the most out of your car has lead you to three championships. Men don’t like that.
You are in a bit of a slump this year after moving to Mercedes, not having won one of the first three races, but you are poised for attack, ready to take your place at the top.
“Daddy, who’s that?” you hear a little girl ask as you walk to the paddock.
“Y/n L/n, we don’t like her,” his fragile masculinity practically yells the comment into your ears. With a smirk you look at the pair, walking over and bending to the little girls level.
“What’s your name?” you ask, your voice bordering on being sickly sweet.
“Sarah,” she squeaks, eyes wide with fascination. You remove your team hat and pull out a sharpie from your pocket, signing your hat.
“Don’t let any man tell you you can’t be better than the boys. You can do anything, you’re a girl,” you smile, putting the hat on her head. You wave over your assistant. “Get her sizes and buy her some team gear, charge it to me,” you tell the assistant, who eagerly nods. Of course, the F1 social team caught the incident and posted it.
“Y/n! How does it feel to be in a slump, as some are calling it? Some fans are even calling you washed. Quite sad isn’t it,” one reporter asks.
“You guys keep saying I am in a slump, or I’m being replaced by younger drivers. My bare hands paved their paths, you don’t get to tell me about sad. If you wanted my career to be dead so bad, you should’ve just said so,” you roll your eyes. Nothing makes you feel more alive than driving, but annoying the media is a close second.
“What about your move to Mercedes next year? Why switch?” another reporter asks. Couldn’t you just get to your motorhome without being hounded by reporters for once?
“It was a mutual decision, it was time for us to part,” you walk away, reflecting on the last few months.
You hadn’t planned your exit from McLaren to Mercedes, the scandal regarding your exit being contained by NDAs. You had punched one of the engineers who made a sexist joke at your expense. You promptly decided you didn’t want to be there anymore, especially when they didn’t fire the engineer.
“I feel bad that this is how it has to happen,” Zak said at the end of last season.
“You don’t get to tell me you feel bad, if you actually did he would’ve been fired and I wouldn’t have to leave,” You told him, visibly upset.
“It was one joke and he was reprimanded. You don’t have to leave,” Zak says, you sharply inhale.
“It wasn’t one joke. It had been ongoing for years, it’s a wonder it took me this long to break. What did you want me to do? Laugh until I cry?” you asked Zak, who seemed shocked.
“Then I truly am sorry, I’ll launch an investigation to see why it wasn’t reported to me before. You will have always have a friend here,” Zak tells you, a small comfort.
“Thank you,” you give him a small smile. You spend the whole offseason steeling yourself and working to be the best driver you can be. You stayed longer at the gym and sent more time on the sim.
“Y/n, are you okay?” Daniel asked one day over a glass of wine, he’s known you since you both were karting, and he’s watched you spiral the past few years. Daniel is your best, and one your few friends.
“It’s so hard being a woman in F1. I am a completely different person than I was before I joined,” Daniel doesn’t comment, he knows you felt like a caged animal so you acted like one.
“Why did you leave McLaren?” Daniel asks, knowing you wouldn’t leave unless there was a good reason.
“I signed an NDA, so you can’t share any of this. After I started at McLaren, an engineer was hired who would say sexist remarks all the time. Over time I stopped being nice and just got mean back, and I finally snapped. I gave him a nice right hook to his face,” you sip the wine, giving the shortened version. “Zak didn’t know, no one had reported the engineers behavior, so we signed NDAs and I left.”
“I’m sorry, That plus the media circus of being a woman in F1 can’t be easy,” Daniel sympathizes.
“That’s why I forced myself to be like this. If I can make myself seem untouchable, it doesn’t hurt as much. Being the villain is easier,” you tell him.
“So how will you approach Mercedes?” Daniel keeps you talking, knowing you need a good trauma dump.
“Lay low for the first couple weeks, let the drivers think they took out my claws, hung me to dry. It won’t be enough to ruin my season, but enough to catch them off guard. During the fourth or fifth race, I’ll leap from my gallows and crash their party, exposing the sexism within Formula One,” you smirk.
“The old ‘who’s afraid of little old me’ tactic,” he smiles, enjoying your plan.
“They should be afraid,” you say, explaining your interview with Suzie that is going to break the internet, after all, the NDA only kept you from talking about the punch.
Just like you predicted, the media and fans were divided. Some called for a public apology from McLaren and the FIA for the treatment of female drivers, most called you over dramatic, and said you only wanted to attention to distract from your poor performance and waning stardom. They said not everything is about you and the people who hurt you didn’t do it to hurt you.
You wanted nothing more than to argue back and show the media and fans just how disturbed they had made you, but Toto told you to let your driving do the talking. That race you said one thing to the media, “you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.”
“Chills, your interview was phenomenal. Thanks for citing me as one of your biggest supporters by the way. Scooch over, let’s see what insecure men are tweeting,” Daniel hands you a glass of wine and sits beside you on your couch, air playing his phone screen.
“I like that one, I’m always drunk on my own tears,” you laugh. Daniel logged into his spam account, letting himself reply to the haters.
“I like this one. Y/n L/n is the kind of person to sue you for stepping on her lawn,” Daniel laughs.
“The reply is better: she’s fearsome, wretched, and most importantly, wrong,” you both think of a funny reply.
You show up to the track and win, and win, and win, until you are holding the trophy for your fourth world championship.
In your post-championship interview with the F1 media team, you make what may be your biggest announcement yet.
“In the wake of people calling me crazy after sharing my experiences as a woman in motorsport, I’d like to make a very special announcement. I am who I am because you trained me to be like this, so to make sure no other girl has to go through what I did, I will be sponsoring two F1 Academy drivers with added mentorship and sponsorship opportunities. I’ve seen the work that Susie Wolff has done, and I cannot wait to help grow the presence of women in motorsport,” you say, sitting beside Susie.
“We will make sure she doesn’t terrorize the girls too much,” she jokes at your request.
“Who’s afraid of little old me?”
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its-avalon-08 · 15 days ago
Note
Franco Colapinto, where his girlfriend gets jealous of his interviews, so she does everything to make him jealous in return
uno reverse amor (fc43)
✦ pairing - franco colapinto x female!reader
✦ genre - angst, jealousy, flirting, insecurity, fluff
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It had started out innocently enough. Franco had always been friendly and warm, and Y/N knew that his charm was just part of who he was. But ever since he joined the F1 paddock, the charm had evolved into something more… public. Every race weekend, clips of Franco effortlessly flirting with reporters and crew members spread like wildfire, and fans ate it up, dubbing him the new “king of charm.”
Y/N, however, was less amused.
The first incident that had really gotten under her skin happened at the British Grand Prix. Franco was leaning against the car, chatting with a well-known reporter who was giggling at everything he said, twirling her hair as she asked him a question about the upcoming race.
“Oh, it’ll be intense,” he said with a grin, his gaze steady on her. “But, you know, I think it’s all about staying calm, keeping your focus. And enjoying the beautiful company, of course.”
The reporter laughed, blushing as Franco flashed her one of his trademark smiles. Y/N, watching from a few feet away, clenched her fists, biting back a glare. Did he really have to add that last part?
As if that wasn’t enough, the week after, during an interview at the Italian Grand Prix, he was asked a simple question about pre-race routines.
“Oh, I’ve got my little routines,” he said, winking at the interviewer, who had already melted halfway into her chair. “I like to get in the right headspace, maybe listen to some music… unless there’s someone interesting around to keep me company.”
The interviewer let out a flustered laugh, and Y/N’s jaw clenched. Really, Franco? “Someone interesting”? Her fingers itched to reach out and pull him away, but she forced herself to stay calm, her heart pounding with frustration.
Then, a few days later, she caught him doing it again—this time with a team member. He’d stopped mid-stride, turned to face her with that irresistible grin, and said, “You’re really making it hard for me to concentrate on the race with those eyes of yours.”
The team member had laughed, shaking her head, but Y/N was seething. How many times does he have to do this? She could feel herself growing annoyed every time she saw him so much as smirk at anyone else.
One evening after another long day at the track, she finally decided to confront him. They were back in his hotel room, and she paced around while Franco lay sprawled on the bed, oblivious.
"Franco," she began, crossing her arms. "You know… you’ve been getting a lot of attention lately.”
He raised an eyebrow, his face innocent. “Oh? From who?”
“From every journalist, reporter, and team member you’ve been flirting with,” she shot back, her voice laced with exasperation.
He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Amor, you know that’s just how I am. I’m just being friendly.”
“Friendly?” she repeated, scoffing. “You called a reporter ‘beautiful company’ and told a mechanic she had distracting eyes.”
He sat up, holding back a smile. “Are you jealous, mi amor?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “No, I’m annoyed that you’re flirting with every woman in sight, making me look like some jealous girlfriend who has to just… stand back and watch.”
Franco chuckled, getting up and pulling her close. “It’s all harmless, cariño. I only have eyes for you.” He leaned in, trying to soften her with a kiss, but Y/N just rolled her eyes, pushing him away.
“Harmless,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “We’ll see about that.”
time skip
The next day, Y/N was ready. She’d slipped into her best outfit, something just a bit more eye-catching than usual. Every detail was intentional: a hint of perfume he loved, her hair styled to perfection, and a glint in her eye that promised trouble.
Franco, as usual, seemed completely oblivious to the storm brewing beside him as they arrived at the paddock together. He greeted her with a casual arm around her waist, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before turning his attention to his mechanics, his team, and soon enough, the journalists. Y/N watched as he naturally fell into his routine, flashing that same boyish grin, laughing a little too freely, and leaning in just a little too close for her comfort.
This time, though, she didn’t sulk on the sidelines. She had her own plans.
“Hey, Ben!” she greeted one of the mechanics, letting her voice take on an extra warmth as she walked up to him with a bright smile. She didn’t have to try too hard—Ben was easy to talk to and always ready with a laugh. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, crossing her arms in a way that drew his attention.
“I was thinking,” she said, biting her lip thoughtfully, “you need to show me how you work your magic with these cars sometime. I bet it’s way more fun than it looks.”
Ben chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy grin. “Oh, you think so? Maybe I could give you a little behind-the-scenes tour sometime,” he offered, looking flattered.
“Only if you promise I’ll get the full VIP experience,” she replied, letting her fingers brush his arm as she laughed. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Franco’s head snap in their direction, his smile faltering as he caught sight of the interaction. Good. She was only just getting started.
The entire day passed in a blur of subtle flirtations—though maybe ‘subtle’ wasn’t the right word. She’d find reasons to linger a bit too long with various members of the team, sharing inside jokes and laughing louder than necessary. She even struck up a conversation with one of the other drivers, who was only too happy to entertain her with stories from his racing days. Every time, she made sure Franco was close enough to witness.
By the time evening rolled around, they’d all decided to celebrate at a nearby club. The music was loud, the lights dim, and the energy high, and Y/N knew it was the perfect place to turn things up a notch. She danced, her laughter bright and easy as she moved through the crowd, letting her hand graze against an arm here, a shoulder there, leaning in close to speak to anyone she deemed worth her attention.
Across the room, Franco was watching her like a hawk. His jaw was tight, and his eyes narrowed every time he saw her hand linger on someone else’s arm or caught her laughing too closely with another driver. She knew he was trying to keep his composure, but it was clear his patience was wearing thin.
Finally, she was in the middle of a conversation with one of Franco’s competitors, a tall, charming driver with an easy smile and a hand that rested just a little too comfortably on her lower back. The driver leaned in, whispering something that made her laugh, and she let herself rest a hand on his shoulder, her eyes flashing with mischief as she spoke.
Y/N was on a roll, and Franco was coming undone. Every time he thought she’d finally had her fun, she’d find someone else to charm with that same sweet laugh and teasing smile she usually reserved for him. And it was driving him crazy.
They’d only just walked back from the bar when she caught sight of one of the mechanics, a friendly guy named Luca. With a mischievous smile, Y/N waltzed over and struck up a conversation, playfully touching his shoulder as she leaned in to hear him over the music.
Really? Luca? Franco’s fists clenched, his jaw tight. He tried to focus on the drink in his hand, tried to keep his eyes anywhere but on her hand lingering on Luca’s arm. Does she really have to be that close to him? Does she have to laugh like that at whatever he's saying?
Luca was saying something that made her laugh again, and she leaned in, looking up at him with wide eyes and a soft smile that Franco knew all too well. Unbelievable, he thought, resisting the urge to march over and tell Luca that his services were absolutely not needed right now.
But it didn’t end there.
Later on, she’d wandered over to a group of drivers who were deep in conversation about the latest upgrades to their cars. Y/N approached them with that breezy confidence that only she could pull off, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled at one of the drivers, giving him her full attention. He was explaining something technical, and Y/N was nodding intently, her hand resting on her hip as she tilted her head just slightly, the way she did when she was really focused on something.
Franco’s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles white. That’s not how she usually listens to people, he fumed, watching as she laughed again, this time with a soft touch to the driver’s arm. Oh, come on. She doesn’t even care about car upgrades!
It felt like every glance, every laugh, every gentle touch of her hand was a little dagger aimed straight at his ego. He knew what she was doing, knew she was just trying to rile him up. And damn, it was working.
Then came the final straw. She’d been chatting with a young mechanic, one who’d recently joined the team and was clearly a little awestruck by her. Y/N was leaning close, whispering something that made the mechanic’s face go beet red, and she playfully nudged his shoulder, laughing as if they were sharing some secret joke.
Franco could feel his pulse hammering as he watched. Does she even realize what she’s doing? Or is this her plan all along? He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his cool. She’s supposed to be here with me, not… not making every other guy in the room feel like they’re the most important person here.
When she threw her head back in laughter, touching the mechanic’s forearm with just a little too much familiarity, Franco had had enough. Every inch of him was tense as he fought to keep himself from storming over there, from pulling her aside and making it very clear that she was his. She’s mine, he thought fiercely, barely restraining the urge to intervene. And she’s going to know it by the end of tonight.
The music pulsed through the club, and Y/N was in the middle of another conversation, this time with a driver she barely knew, when she felt a familiar hand wrap around her wrist. Franco’s grip was gentle but firm, his eyes burning with a mix of frustration and something else she hadn’t seen in a long time: pure, unfiltered jealousy.
“Amor,” he said through a tight smile, pulling her closer, his voice thick with intensity. “We’re leaving. Now.”
She blinked, biting back a grin as he guided her through the crowded room, his hand still wrapped around hers as he weaved them toward the exit. Once they were outside, in the cool night air, Franco turned to face her, his jaw set, eyes narrowed. His fingers brushed down her arm before he let go, clearly trying to gather his thoughts.
“Mind telling me what that was all about, mi amorcito?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, though the tension was undeniable. “I spent the entire night watching you laugh with everyone but me. Dios mío, you were flirting with every man in sight.”
She lifted an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, really? And what about you, Franco?” she shot back, a smirk playing on her lips. “You’ve been winking and laughing and charming everyone in the paddock for weeks. I just thought I’d give you a taste of your own medicine.”
His eyes widened in realization, a flush creeping up his neck as he took a step closer, brushing his fingers along her arm again, gentler this time. “Ay, mi vida,” he said softly, his gaze softening, though he still looked frustrated. “It’s just part of the job. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. You should have told me.”
She laughed, but there was an edge to it. “I tried, Franco. But you didn’t even notice. So, I figured maybe you’d pay attention if I reminded you what it feels like.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. “You’re right, I wasn’t paying attention. But seeing you like that tonight? Talking to other men like I don’t even exist? It drove me loco, princesa. You know that, right?” His voice softened, filled with a hint of pleading. “No me hagas esto otra vez. I can’t handle it.”
Y/N grinned, but there was warmth in her eyes as she took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Now you know what I feel like, Franco. But… maybe you’re a little cuter when you’re jealous.” She leaned in, brushing a playful kiss on his cheek.
He let out a frustrated groan, pulling her close so their foreheads touched, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her waist. “Mentirosa,” he whispered, half-laughing as his frustration melted into affection. “You know you’re the only one I want, mi corazón.”
The tension between them softened into something familiar, something that was just theirs.
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deunmiu-dessie · 9 months ago
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ⅷ▬ ⁽ 𝒶𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓃 ⁾
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𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₈˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : unedited, plot, alien/human, fluff, nim'xen is a simp, he falls first and then falls harder. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : no smut, but! a cute little unfinished one-shot of mine.
𝓈𝓊��𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: on the way home from the store, the unthinkable happens.
꒰male!alien ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
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“Breaking News: Massive Asteroid Comes Dangerously Close to Earth, Scientists Unaware Until Hours Later.
In a stunning turn of events, a colossal asteroid, previously known as ZTFoDxQ but now identified as Asteroid QG, narrowly missed colliding with Earth. The planet-sized asteroid made its closest-known approach to our planet on Sunday at 12:08 a.m. EDT, coming within a mere 1,830 miles. This remarkable event marks the closest asteroid flyby ever recorded, where the celestial object managed to survive the encounter unscathed, as confirmed by NASA.
However, the surprises didn't end there. Just this afternoon at 1:00 p.m., reports have emerged that a fragment of the asteroid has broken off and penetrated Earth's atmosphere. The exact location of impact is currently being evacuated as a precautionary measure. 
 Scientists are scrambling to analyze the data and understand how such a massive asteroid managed to come so close to Earth without being detected until hours later. The lack of awareness has raised concerns about the effectiveness of current asteroid detection systems and the potential risks posed by near-Earth objects.
NASA and other space agencies around the world are now working to improve their monitoring and detection capabilities to prevent similar surprises in the future. The incident has also sparked discussions about the need for increased funding and resources for asteroid detection and deflection efforts.
As the world watches in awe and relief at the near miss, the incident serves as a stark reminder of the potential dangers lurking in space and the importance of continued vigilance in monitoring the skies for potential threats. Stay tuned for further updates on this developing story.” 
3 months later
“Can you do me a favor, sweetheart?”
Interrupting your peeling, you raised your eyes from the bowl of potatoes, freezing the peeler in your hand. You cast a frustrated glance at her, your annoyance thinly veiled behind a strained smile. You were already handling most of the cooking for the evening, so what more could she want from you?
Interpreting your insincere smile as a signal of agreement, she resumed her task of tending to the bubbling broth on the stove, deftly chopping the carrots and watching them plunge into the savory liquid with a satisfying plop. "Your sister's going on a trip tomorrow and I totally spaced on getting her food. She likes turkey right? I'll just throw together a sandwich for her." 
A soft snicker escaped you as the peeler slipped from your hand and plunged into the water-filled bowl. You shifted your attention towards her, trying to decipher if she was genuinely serious or not. Yet, as you locked eyes with her, she responded with an arched eyebrow and an inquisitive grin.
"Jess has a poultry allergy, Mom." 
The woman paused briefly, inhaling deeply to gather her thoughts. As she glanced up at you, she shifted her hip to the side. Her apologetic expression seemed somewhat contrived. "Of course, I should have remembered. I'm sorry, honey." 
It was understandable that the woman might eventually forget. She wasn't the one who hurriedly took Jess to the hospital when she had her first experience with it, she wasn't the one who remained by the girl's side day and night, eagerly waiting for her to regain consciousness. But you were. You were Jess's first in everything. You had always been there for her, so it's only natural that the bond between the two of you grew strong. You knew all about her allergies, her preferences, her school crushes— you felt like more of a mother to her than her biological one.
 "Whatever. I'll pack her lunch." 
You swivel the chair and slide off of it. "The blue card, right?" As she nods her head absentmindedly, almost as if she's in a daze, you leave the kitchen with a frown etched on your face.
Snatching your keys from the hook, you hastily slide into your gym shoes, relieved that you hadn't bothered changing your clothes. You stand at the bottom of the stairs and shift your weight. "Jess! I'm going to the store, do you want anything?!" You delve into your mom's purse, sifting through the chaotic contents until you locate her wallet and retrieve the blue card food stamp card.
   After a brief silence, her bedroom door swings open and she rushes towards the railing, a bright smile on her face. " Ice cream? Shark week came and I've been really craving strawberry ice cream."  You give a nod and quickly retrieve your jacket from the closet. "Do you need any money for the trip tomorrow? I can take some out on my way back." 
The young girl shakes her head, her eyes filled with adoration. You raise an eyebrow but still nod in understanding. Retrieving your phone from your pocket, you give it a gentle shake. "Text me if you need anything, but be quick about it." Without waiting for her response, you swiftly unlock the door and make your way onto the porch.
The sky is adorned with a delicate blend of pink and deep purple, gradually blending into the mysterious darkness of the night. A gentle breeze carries a subtle chill, but you embrace it without a word, wrapping your jacket tightly around your being. Swiftly, you navigate towards your vehicle, unlocking the door and sinking into the plush leather seat. A faint hint of smoke dances in the air, causing your nose to crinkle in response. Without hesitation, you lower the window, letting it air out.
As the smell dissipates you roll up the window and rub your hands together from the cold.
 With a flick of a switch, the heat begins to flow, gradually filling the space and caressing your cheeks with a gentle warmth. The jacket you wear, once a shield against the chill, now threatens to make you feel almost too warm. With a contented smile, you leave the driveway behind and glide swiftly down the street, embraced by the cozy ambiance within.
 As you embark on the drive, the radio remains silent, allowing your thoughts to drift away. Your thumb dances lightly on the steering wheel, lost in a world of its own. Deep down, you had already made up your mind to have Jess by your side once you left. There was no way your parents could take care of her, especially with what you've heard today. 
 Your job was well-paying and you had saved up to rent and secure a two-bedroom apartment at an astonishingly reasonable cost, despite its pristine condition. Nestled within a delightful community, the apartment stood conveniently close to Jess' school. Naturally, obtaining their consent would be imperative, yet even if they were to resist, you would unhesitatingly embark on a legal journey to assert your rights. Yet even if they were to resist, you would unhesitatingly them to court. 
  You wanted a better life for Jess, you wanted the rest of her remaining years of growth to unfold effortlessly. Your affection for her was so profound that witnessing her spiral, just as you had, while residing with your parents was simply inconceivable.
Startled by a gentle tap on your window, you were momentarily transported from the reverie you had been lost in while sitting in the Kroger's parking lot. Your mind had been wandering, lost in a sea of thoughts. With your heart pounding in your chest, you slowly shifted your gaze towards the source of the sound and cautiously opened the window, allowing a sliver of the outside world to seep in.
 She was an elderly lady, much older than you, with a look of homelessness about her. Her shirt was stained and torn, her jeans in tatters, and her face covered in grime. You hesitated for a moment before offering her a warm smile and rolling down your window just a tad further.
  "Hi, do you need something?"
As her murmurs dance in disarray, fragments of words manage to intertwine, and in a fleeting moment, a shiver cascades down your spine. " You're. . . Die. . . Tonight."  
Her expression is vacant, her gaze distant, and the fidgety way she picks at her cuticles hints at her unease. Even though you feel a sense of discomfort, a strong urge to leave the parking lot doesn't overcome you. Instead, you reach into the glove compartment, retrieve a crumpled $20 bill, and gently pass it through the window.
 You recoil in shock as she snatches it out of your hand, making sure to quickly wobble off. With your heart racing, you roll up the window and sink into the headrest, trying to soothe your jangled nerves. What the hell was that about? The only conclusion you can draw is that she must be a deranged old woman.
After finally catching your breath, you unlock your car door and slide out, card in hand. Gently inserting the blue plastic into the slot at the back of your phone case, you carefully place it in your pocket. The night had fallen, and you were eager to return to the comfort of your home.
You took a cart from the parking lot racks and pushed it inside, feeling the chill of the air as you entered the store. "Hmm, what should I pick up for Jess?"
   "Jess! Mom! I'm home!" You set the bags onto the dining room table and wait there with a cocked hip. Within moments, Jess emerges from her room and descends the stairs in a flurry. A gentle smile adorns your face as you present the tub of delectable ice cream, relishing in the delightful sound of her joyful squeal.
  "Ah! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" With a grateful smile, she plants a sweet kiss on your cheek and pulls you into a warm embrace. She then heads to the kitchen, excitedly searching through the drawer for a spoon. Your mother, already present in the kitchen, peeks out from behind the corner.
You notice her face contorting into a slight frown paired with a gentle smile. You recognize that look instantly, so you grab the car keys and smoothly slide the card off the table. Her eyes soften with regret as she passes you a tiny list. "It's just a few things, the ingredients for Jakiya's birthday cake that slipped my mind. Do you mind picking them up?"
   You raised an eyebrow, lips pursed. "I don't necessarily have a choice, mom." Your mom huffed and rolled her eyes. "It's a simple yes or no question, don't be difficult." Despite your strained relationship with your mom, you made an effort to avoid arguments when Jess was present.
Speaking of which, Jess had stopped rummaging in the drawer, body strung tight like a bow. Your gaze softened as you released a weary, deep sigh. You were completely fed up with your parents' nonsense, but Jess shouldn't have to witness the constant fighting between the three of you.
With a gentle nibble on the tender flesh of your cheek, you gracefully acknowledged your mother's request, enveloping yourself in the comforting embrace of your jacket. "Sure mom, what do you need?"
A smile of gratitude adorned her face as she pushed a small list towards you. You grinned wryly as you snatched it, then swiftly headed towards the door. The sun had long set, plunging the world into darkness. The street lights flickered weakly, barely illuminating the empty streets.
 Jess gazes at you as you prepare to depart, smiling guiltily.  With a playful roll of your eyes, you silently express your affection, mouthing the words 'I love you' and blowing a tender kiss in her direction. Her nose scrunches up adorably, but her face lights up with a radiant smile as she reciprocates the gesture. As you steal a glance to the side, you catch sight of your mother observing the exchange, her eyes filled with a bittersweet longing.
 "Text me if there's something else, I'm not going back out later." The words were directed towards Jess, but she dismissed them with a wave of her hand and reached for a large spoon from the drawer. Stepping outside, you were greeted by the refreshing embrace of the cool, crisp air, causing you to release a frustrated sigh. The sound of your keys jingled as you retrieved them from your pocket, pressing a button to unlock the car doors. With a swift motion, you hopped into the front seat and firmly closed the door behind you.
 You wait impatiently as the engine sputters before shutting off. Resting your head on the steering wheel, you attempt a few more times before surrendering. Frustrated, you hit the dashboard and recline in your seat. If you were to go inside and inform your mom that the car wouldn't start, she'd make you walk anyway.
With a sigh escaping your lips, you swing open the door and slide from the seat locking the doors behind you. Embarking on your journey towards Kroger, you find yourself humming a gentle melody, adding a touch of serenity to your brisk pace towards the supermarket. The night envelops you in a tranquil embrace, yet the houses you pass by are alive with vibrant activity. As you stroll along, your gaze wanders towards the windows, offering glimpses into the lives unfolding within.
    Some families are cooking while others are at the table already eating. Happiness danced in the air, casting its enchanting spell upon every corner. Yet, as you observed this idyllic scene, a twinge of envy tugged at your heartstrings. Growing up, you yearned for such a blissful atmosphere that seemed to elude you. At the tender age of nine, your parents bestowed upon you the title of maturity, deeming you wise beyond your years. And while, yes, you possessed a certain level of wisdom, it did not equate to being capable enough to care for your baby sister.
 It fell upon you to fetch Jess from daycare and ensure a safe journey back home for the two of you. It was your responsibility to prepare meals for both of you after school. The weight of raising your four-year-old sister and yourself rested solely on your shoulders, as there was no one else to do it for you. Over time, the bond between both of you and your parents had weakened. They were seldom present, and when they were, disagreements ensued. You made an effort to keep the arguments hushed whenever Jess was around. She often blamed herself for the strained relationship between you, your mom, and your dad.
As you stroll along the dimly lit street, a sudden hush falls upon your heart as the echo of footsteps reaches your ears. Time seems to stand still, and for a fleeting moment, your heart skips a beat. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, you cling to a glimmer of hope, imagining that those footsteps might belong to a passerby, innocently treading the same path as you.
They draw nearer, their footsteps quickening. You swallow your trepidation, nearly stumbling as a man's voice pierces the air. "Excuse me!" His voice resonates with a deep, thunderous timbre, sending shivers down your spine. You flinch, but press on, hastening towards the bustling street where the glow of passing cars illuminates the pavement and towering structures. Towards the sanctuary of safety.
 "Hey! I'm talking to you." 
  You're almost there. You start to jog a little but they've closed in a bit too much. Their presence looms closer, their energy palpable. Just as panic threatens to consume you, you part your lips to release a piercing scream, only to find that silence has enveloped the air.
A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of a bush, followed by a brief, hushed cry that fades into silence. The chirping of crickets has ceased, leaving a stillness that envelops the world. With uncertainty, you glance behind you and collapse to the ground as the two men have vanished. Gazing up at the night sky, the reflection in your eyes, you offer silent gratitude to whoever intervened and saved you in that fleeting moment.
   You stand up and you resume your journey, eventually arriving at the bustling street. Though your legs falter when you notice the woman from earlier sitting on a bus stop bench. The impact of the $20 becomes evident as she savors a warm, nourishing meal, and her once weary eyes seem to be less bloodshot. 
 A part of you hesitates to pass by her, yet you dismiss that fleeting sense of unease and march towards her. It appears that she is also cautious of your presence, as her head swiftly turns towards you—almost as if she is just as cognizant of you as you are of her. Her gaze drifts beyond your shoulder and her eyes widen, a sheer terror reflecting in them. She abandons her meal, rises with some effort, clutches onto her bag, and hastens away.
Your brows knit together and you cast a glance over your shoulder, a whirlwind of bewilderment dancing in your gaze. There is no one lingering in the shadows and the surroundings appear undisturbed. Returning your attention to her path, you discover that she has vanished into thin air. A sense of unease settles within you as you resume your journey towards the store, diligently keeping a watchful eye on the space behind you.
The parking lot is nearly empty when you leave the store. Alongside you, a stream of tired employees bid farewell to their workday, their footsteps echoing in harmony with your own. Amid this scene, a message from Jess illuminates your phone, informing you that dinner has already been prepared. However, a bittersweet note lingers as their parents, driven by impatience, have chosen to indulge in the meal without your presence.
      The girl had put you some food up and would eat with you when you got home. You tell her that it's fine and for her to go to sleep. She responds back with the middle finger emoji. You let out a soft laugh and gently tuck your phone away, resuming your journey back home. In moments like these, you can't help but appreciate the invaluable presence of your sister. She is the unwavering support that keeps you grounded, the guiding light that helps you navigate through life's challenges. It is because of her that you find the strength to persevere, even in the face of your parents' constant demands.
Raising Jess, despite its challenges, has molded you into the person you are now. A person who is dependable, always on time, patient, and strong-willed. You possess the remarkable ability to adapt swiftly and thrive in any endeavor you undertake. If your parents hadn't entrusted you with the responsibility of raising your sister, none of these remarkable qualities would have blossomed within you. Although it may be bittersweet, raising Jess has truly been a hidden blessing, concealed in the depths of life's mysteries.
As you hurriedly make your way home, you take a shortcut and find yourself in the dimly lit parking lot of a mysterious barber shop. Instantly, a wave of regret washes over you as you stumble upon a group of men engaged in some clandestine activity. Panic sets in, and you quickly decide to retreat. However, fate has other plans for you. In your haste, you accidentally collide with a solid chest, causing you to freeze in your tracks. 
When you gather the courage to look up, you are met with a sight that leaves you breathless. Standing before you is a towering figure, adorned with intricate tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. His pierced septum and eyebrow only add to his intimidating presence, and his annoyed expression sends shivers down your spine. As his eyebrows furrow, you can't help but do a double take at his striking attractiveness.
 "Watch where you're going, woman." You nod in agreement and attempt to move aside, but a member of the group lets out a disrespectful whistle. Your body tenses as you try to keep walking, only to have your wrist grabbed by another individual. "Where do you think you're going? You're such a pretty little thing."  
"I just want to get home. Please, let me go." Your attempt at a stern tone falters as your voice quivers and a hiccup escapes. Laughter fills the air, causing you to shrink back as if confronting a pack of wolves. Six of them. 
   The mysterious figure you collided with earlier firmly grasps the man who is restraining your wrist. " I don't have all fucking night Tyler. Either give me my shit, or I'm going to blow your brains across this goddamn lot." 
The atmosphere suddenly becomes hushed, as if time itself holds its breath. A distant memory resurfaces, a conversation shared with your sister, where you both playfully pondered about how you would handle such a situation. Laughter filled the air as you jokingly mentioned pepper spray and karate moves. But now, in this very moment, fear grips your heart, rendering you utterly petrified.
    Tyler releases his grip on you, causing a small, trembling breath to escape your lips. "Jesus, Dom. I was just joking," he says nervously, glancing at his friends for support. A few chuckle while others remain silent.
 Dom gazes at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Go. Before I change my mind." Despite the stern tone, there is a softness in his eyes that reassures you. You thank him profusely and speed walk away from the group. 
The moment you thought you were making headway, the piercing screams and the thunderous gunshots shatter the night's calmness. Time seems to stand still as the world around you falls into an eerie silence once again. With a lump in your throat, you quicken your pace, feeling the weight of tears welling up in your eyes.
This couldn't possibly be the end for you. It simply couldn't. You still had a duty to care for your sister, to provide her with a better life than you ever had. You longed to shield her from your parents, but how could you do that if you were no longer alive?
   As you sprint away, tightly holding onto the groceries, a gasp escapes your lips before a hand covers your mouth, guiding you into a hidden bush. The struggle feels like the most intense challenge you've ever faced. Through a tiny gap, you catch a glimpse of your groceries left behind on the pavement.
  " Shh, little female." 
As if by magic, a wave of calm washes over you the moment you recognize the familiar presence of 'Dom'. Tears cascade down your cheeks, and you gently rest your hands upon his, feeling the rhythmic beats of your heart resonating in your ears. As you glance through the foliage, a gasp escapes your lips upon seeing 'Tyler' once again. Yet, he appears far from human this time. His complexion is a mesmerizing shade of deep purple, and his face is adorned with four fiery red eyes and a menacing set of frothing, razor-sharp teeth.
His mouth oozes with saliva, which cascades onto the solid ground and creates a sizzling noise. It was acidic. Dom embraces you tightly, his free hand ascending. In his grasp, a peculiar gun emerges, unlike anything you have ever laid eyes upon. With precision, he positions the barrel's tip against the peephole, his finger gently caressing the trigger. As the gun powers up, a radiant orange glow illuminates its entire frame, casting an ethereal aura. The release is nearly soundless, as a beam pierces through 'Tyler's forehead. 
He moves away from you, emerging from the bushes, taking your stunned body in his arms and lifting you up gently. Running his fingers through his hair, the white locks falling smoothly into place.
As your gaze meets his, your mortal eyes widen in awe. He appears changed, yet undeniably captivating in a strange, otherworldly manner. His complexion is a deep shade of grey, adorned with intricate tattoos in an unfamiliar script. Some markings are white, while others emit a haunting red glow. His hair, too, is a ghostly white, almost pulsating with life. His eyes, a cloudy white, give the impression of blindness, yet two more eyes rest just below the main set. The piercings on his nose and eyebrow remain, adding to his enigmatic allure.
 You take a step back, but he gives you a piercing look that freezes you in place "What are you?" Without a word, he hesitates for a moment before taking your hand and leading you away. "Where are we going?" Your voice trembles with fear. Dom halts and releases your hand. He gestures towards the lifeless body.  "Do you see that? Hundreds of those things have already touched Terra, 3 earth months ago." 
  You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm. The deep timber of his voice brings you back to reality. "They proliferate with astonishing speed, ceaselessly multiplying. Your planet is infested, we're only here to see if it was preventable. We were too late." 
As he looks down upon you, his eyes soften, embracing the sight of your trembling figure.  "Our ultimate aim is to gather a chosen few among humanity and escort you to a hospitable planet, so that you can once again repopulate."
You shake your head slowly, taking a step back, "I cannot abandon my sister here." Dom releases a fierce growl, pointing his gun towards you and firing. The beam narrowly misses you, striking another monster in the head.
"Make it quick."
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In a flurry of movement, you dart into the house, the groceries slipping from your grasp and finding their place on the table in a haphazard manner. Dom follows silently, his presence masked by a cloaking device that renders him invisible to the naked eye. 
Your heart races within your chest, a wild stallion galloping against the confines of its cage, as you ascend the stairs with reckless abandon, the sound of your footsteps reverberating loudly against the wooden steps. Bursting into Jess' room, a wave of relief washes over you, a grateful prayer whispered under your breath. Taking a seat on her bed, your smile quivers with a mixture of emotions.
Her expression is one of bewilderment and a touch of fear. Tenderly, you sweep a strand of hair away from her face. "Do me a favor, my sweet girl. Pack some clothes, but pack light. I'll explain on the way but do it quickly." Jess has always trusted your decisions without hesitation, and she won't begin to question them now. She swiftly jumps out of bed and retrieves a bookbag from her wardrobe, the very same one you both use during your camping adventures.
"We don't have much time, little female." His tone isn't rushing in the slightest but you quickly head to your room and grab your book bag. You gather only the essentials - tough denim, comfortable shirts, reliable footwear, empty notebooks, and writing tools.
Jess rushed into the room, packing faster than anticipated, much to your relief. You take her hand and guide her out, but suddenly a loud crash interrupts. Both of you scream and huddle in the corner. Dom reveals himself and fires a shot, striking the massive creature in the shoulder. Its deafening roar rattles the house and you hear your parents' heavy footsteps approaching. Just as the monster lunges towards you, Dom takes aim and shoots it in the head. Neon blood splatters the wall, causing it to slowly dissolve.
With wide, frightened eyes, Jess looks up at you as you cling to her protectively. Your parents step into the room, dressed in their robes, shocked expressions on their faces as they take in the scene in front of them. Dom pays no attention to them, instead turning his gaze towards you and giving you a once-over.
" Are you ready?" 
 With a subtle nod, you accept his outstretched hand, intertwining your fingers with his while ensuring your younger sister is safe by your side. The first to break the silence is your father, his voice laced with bewilderment. "What the hell is happening?!" His eyes fixate on you, as if you hold the key to unraveling this enigma. Disregarding his inquiry, Dom strides past, leading the three of you down the staircase. Your parents trail behind, bombarding you with a flurry of questions. Despite their persistent curiosity, you make a conscious effort to block out their voices, but your mother intervenes by snatching Jess away from your side.
With a sudden movement, the girl breaks free and falls into your waiting arms. Dom brandishes his weapon, his expression icy and resolute. Your mother retreats, seeking solace in the arms of your father.
 Dom takes the lead, while the two of you follow closely. Observing Jess, he sees her slight build and anticipates she may have difficulty keeping pace. However, he remains utterly unfazed, not a hint of complaint escaping his lips. In a surprising display of strength, he effortlessly lifts her, prompting her to let out a startled yelp, and places her book bag on his shoulder.
" We need to move fast. Keep up."
 As you secure your book bag and inhale deeply, a rush of adrenaline courses through you. Dom sprints ahead, weapon in hand. The sound of breaking glass startles you, disrupting the tranquility of the surroundings you had just passed. The anguished cries of parents and children tug at your heartstrings, but your focus remains on Jess.
 The length of time you've been running is a blur, your legs now numb from the effort. Nevertheless, you persist, matching his pace as best as you can. Jess has succumbed to sleep, worn out from the night's adventures. You grin wearily at her and give yourself a firm slap on the cheeks, determined to stay awake.
 Dom is pleasantly surprised by how far you've been able to sprint, appreciating your resilience and commitment to your kin. As the three of you reach a vast clearing, he gradually slows down and halts. You catch up to him, panting heavily, with sweat glistening on your skin. You look at him, curious as to why he's stopped. Dom raises his arm and utters something in his native tongue. The gauntlet beeps and responds to him in kind.
The once vacant clearing now teems with life as your gaze is captivated by the majestic arrival of a ship. Its sheer grandeur overwhelms you, compelling you to take a step back. Towering above, the ship's entrance demands you to tilt your head back. 
As Dom guides you onward, the hatch swings open, inviting you to step onto its surface. A warm welcome awaits you from a gathering of his companions, each adorned in vibrant hues, yet all sharing the distinctive feature of milky white eyes. Drawing nearer to Dom, you find solace in the proximity of your sister. They engage in conversation briefly, before the hatch seals shut and Dom secures his firearm in its holster. " You will be safe here. The ship will take off tomorrow night when my people come with more of your kind."
  He leads the two of you to a room, one big bed placed in the middle of it accompanied by a smattering of curious contraptions. The walls exude an ethereal shade of slate grey metal, while a petite window graces the space just above a cozy sitting area. Tenderly, Dom settles Jess upon the bed and places the bag on a nearby table. He looks towards you and motions forward. "Rest."
As he moves towards the room's exit, you seize his hand. Your eyes betray a lack of trust, not in him, but in the very ship and its occupants. Dom stares at you, his emotions veiled, and you struggle to hold back tears. " Will you come back? Are you leaving us?" 
 In Dom's world, the idea of a female requiring reassurance and assistance was unfamiliar territory. The females on his planet, known as sîmalę, were formidable warriors, often occupying positions of power surpassing those of the males. Dom found himself fortunate to have gotten his position. [ Female¹]
He reminds himself that you are a human hailing from the terra planet. The concept of hunting or encountering creatures that did not resemble pets or the animals confined within the cages of a zoo was foreign to you. Dom gently releases your hand from his grasp, his gaze emanating reassurance despite the vacancy in his expression." Sleep, little female and this one will be back soon."  
Observing as you reluctantly nod, you make your way towards the bed. With tenderness, you remove your sister's shoes and tuck her in, finding solace in this simple act of nurturing. Your savior exits the room, leaving you to collapse onto your knees, tears cascading from your eyes. The events of today crash upon you with the intensity of a thunderstorm, and you come to the realization that it is now solely you and your sister. A small part of you regrets not bringing your parents along, but you have convinced yourself that it was the wisest choice.
 " What's wrong?"
You swiftly brush away the tears with the back of your hand. Gazing at your sister, you grasp her hand gently in yours. Her eyes hold a hint of doubt as you shake your head. It was crucial to show Jess that you were the pillar of strength, assuring her safety and control.
  "It's nothing, I'm just exhausted. Let's head to sleep okay?" Jess nods, revealing the empty side of the bed for you to rest on. You kick off your shoes and wrap yourself in the comforter. Jess joins you promptly, nestling beside you to provide warmth. The lights recognize your need for rest and dim down.
  "I love you." 
You grin and hold her hand in yours. "I love you too."
—-
The gentle murmur of voices pulls you from your slumber, but Jess is no longer by your side, leaving you feeling a sense of emptiness. Your eyes gradually open, taking in your surroundings. A sleepy yawn escapes your lips as you sit up in bed. The voices fall silent, only to be replaced by Jess' voice, beckoning you to join the conversation.
"Are you finally awake?"
A slight thumbs up is the only response Jess receives before you run your hands over your eyes, dispelling the drowsiness. "Dom says that the others will be back soon, in two hours. Then we'll be leaving here." At the mention of his name, you lift your gaze completely. The alien is stationed at the entrance, arms crossed, sporting a ghostly smile as a greeting.
Relief floods through you when he appears, and he can sense it too. Your oxytocin levels spike at the mere sight of him. The moment is disrupted by the loud rumbling of Jess' stomach, leading her to groan and flop onto the bed. "I'm starving!"
  A piece of your heart is relieved to see Jess back to her usual self, yet a part of you understands the importance of discussing the recent events and what lies ahead. Dom opens the room door and motions to it. "This one will take you to the canteen, you'll eat there." 
   Jess eagerly jumps out of bed, taking your hand and pulling you along. "Hurry, I don't want to go by myself," she pleads. You yield to her plea and stand up. Dom watches the two of you but doesn't race you to get ready. The two of you quickly put on your shoes and exit the room.
Dom assumes the lead, acknowledging the presence of the guards stationed throughout the ship. "You will eat with the rest of your kind, worry not." You reciprocate with a nod, holding your sister tightly while marveling at the ship and its bewildering gadgets that surpass Earth's comprehension. Dom opens the door for both of you, placing a comforting hand on your lower back. His touch brings solace as you step inside, with Jess following closely behind. Although the canteen isn't teeming with people, its modest occupancy provides a semblance of safety within the ship's vast expanse.
"Jess?"
    The sound of your sister's name comes from a girl with dyed red and pink hair. A dazzling diamond stud graces her pierced nose, and her eyes gleam in a warm toffee shade. It takes a moment for your sister to locate the person who called out to her, but when she does, her eyes fill with tears of happiness as she waves in acknowledgment.
You anticipate your sister's eager rush, yet she remains rooted, her hand clasping yours with increasing intensity, as if seeking your validation. A profound connection is forged as your eyes meet, and despite the weariness etched upon your visage, you manage to summon a tired smile, silently conveying your agreement. With unwavering determination, Jess propels herself towards the girl in the queue, leaping into her outstretched arms. "Kayla!"
 While your sister is occupied, you sit at an unoccupied table, startled by Dom's sudden presence across from you. "How do you and your kin fair? Little female." It's a pity that you feel more at ease with an alien than your own kind. 
" My name is [ ]."  The nickname he has given you isn't one that offends you in any way. The way he uses it is quite endearing, but you'd rather him call you by your real name than anything else. You wring your hands together and your stress levels rise steadily. Anxious thoughts swirl in your mind as you ponder,  "What will happen to everyone else that's left here?" 
Your name carries the meaning of 'to conquer' in his native tongue and he finds it fitting for you. Dom's jaw tightens slightly as he locks eyes with you. "This one will not lie to you. Many of your species will die, it is survival of the fittest when it comes to the Qęnłar. They are hard to kill without proper weapons but it is not impossible."  
[ Abomination¹]
A soft gasp is stifled by your hand as tears well up in your eyes. The sense of guilt consumes you, making you question your own worthiness. Unsure of how you could have helped, you can't help but feel like an imposter among those who perished.
Dom seems to sense your inner turmoil and does his best to console you. "There is not much you could've done, litt–."His voice falters momentarily as he nearly utters the name he'd given you, but he swiftly regains composure. "Had you not gone out that night, you also could've been left here on terra to die. None aboard this vessel would have spared a second thought to rescue you." 
 It's clear that he's not skilled at soothing people, particularly humans, yet you offer your thanks with a watery smile. As he opens his mouth to speak again, he gently places a hand on his ear. Despite the absence of eyebrows, you observe the furrow in the center of his forehead. His gaze turns icy as he stands up from the table.
   "This one will find you in your chambers later, ask the guard to lead you when you are ready. Fęrłåk dė hłał." Although you don't understand the meaning behind his words, you nod in agreement, captivated by the enigmatic aura surrounding him. He then departs, pausing briefly to converse with the guard. [ Eat well ¹] 
  With a glance in your direction, the alien acknowledges Dom with a nod. Your stomach emits a low growl, prompting you to lay your head on the table, too fatigued to make a move.
Clang!
Next to your slouched figure, Jess sets down two trays brimming with mouth-watering dishes. As you straighten up, a grin spreads across your face. You instinctively grab the tray loaded with an assortment of fruits, feeling understood by her intuitive gesture— she knew you so well.
"Where did he go?" You assume she's talking about Dom. With a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, you indulged in the succulent sweetness of a ripe mango, savoring each delicate bite.
 "Jess. What happened yesterday–."
The girl holds up her hand. "I don't know what happened when you left, and there's no need to tell me. I've never questioned anything you've done for me before because you always have the best interest at heart. Thank you for coming back for me. Dom told me that you wouldn't leave without me." 
She gazes down at her tray of food. "A part of me feels guilty for leaving mom and dad but I know that you made the right decision and had your reasons." Jess lets out a shaky sigh and turns to face you. "I'm scared, absolutely terrified but I want to be strong for you. Like how you are for me. I can tell you're stressed as it is and I don't want to burden you." 
  You pull her into a hug and shake your head. "Jess, you could never, and I mean never be a burden to me. Do you understand?" She nods into your chest, sniffling softly. You rub her back and bite your lip. "I'm also really scared, this is new to me but I'll make sure that we'll get through it."
She nods again and pulls away from you. You purse your lips, a mixture of emotions swirling within you, and decide to divert your attention by savoring the delectable cantaloupe. "Now eat. You pulled me from my sleep and I want to go back to bed."  Jess chuckles softly, her head bobbing in agreement. " I'm also really sleepy. It'd also be crazy to wake up in space." 
 The mere thought causes you to grimace involuntarily. This entire experience is uncharted territory for you, but just like in the past, you will learn to adapt and persevere. The cool, refreshing juice of the watermelon glides down your throat, its delightful taste prompting a gentle hum of satisfaction.
 It feels almost surreal to grasp the idea that within a mere two hours, you will bid farewell to your beloved home. A place you believed to be exclusively inhabited by humans, the notion of extraterrestrial existence had never crossed your mind. The journey that lies ahead will undoubtedly present its fair share of challenges and hardships. This very moment, unfolding like a scene from an otherworldly sci-fi saga, is something you never could have anticipated, even in your wildest dreams. And now, as you find yourself in this new reality, your mission has taken on a profound meaning - to protect Jess at all costs.
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 "Captain X'ęnš would like to enter your chambers. Will you allow him access?"
   In a state of heightened alertness, you find yourself sitting up, your muscles tense with anticipation. The room is suddenly bathed in light, only to swiftly dim as the perceptive AI detects that Jess is still sound asleep. A wave of uncertainty washes over you as you contemplate the identity of the person standing outside the door. 
 Your gaze sweeps across the room, desperately seeking an object to grasp onto for a sense of security. Eventually, your eyes settle upon one of your worn boots. With a mixture of doubt and determination, you call out to the AI. "Please show me the door feed." A brief moment of silence ensues before the AI responds, its voice calm and reassuring. "Certainly."
The door shimmers, revealing a translucent barrier that draws you nearer. Dropping the shoe, you breathe a sigh of contentment at the sight of Dom standing before you. Standing in front of the door, you gaze at him, captivated by the intricacies of his face.
 "Can he see me?"
In a swift response, the AI speaks, "Negative, this is a unidirectional perspective. He is visible solely to you."  As soon as it finishes saying that, Dom raises his head. Your heart pounds rapidly as his gaze eerily connects with yours, contradicting the AI's statement. "Open the door."
As the entryway unfolds with a whisper, Dom's towering figure emerges. You greet him with a breathless smile, slipping your hands into your back pockets. "Hi." Dom mellows at your soft tone, allowing you to place a hand on his arm and push him back, watching as you discreetly slide out of the room so as to not wake up your sister. He does a once over, looking for any wounds or signs of distress, and finds that he's pleased with himself that you're alright. 
 "This one said he would visit after his duties, jœrmünd łæ bšłåm." He watches with amusement as your eyebrows furrow. " What does that mean?" Your lips form a thoughtful pout. "And earlier you said, ferrak di hal." From the moment you first laid eyes on him, even though it was just recently, you had been curious to discover the sound of his laughter, and it did not disappoint.
   His laugh isn't boisterous. It's a deep and soothing sound, akin to the soft murmur of a distant waterfall. As the echoes of his laughter reached your ears, they stirred a gentle fire within, causing a delightful warmth to spread and caress your belly. Whether he noticed the subtle increase in your body's temperature or not, he remained silent, allowing the enchantment of the moment to weave its spell.
    "Jœrmünd łæ bšłåm, it translates roughly in terra language to, 'good evening.'" His eyes twinkle with a playful delight as you attempt to mimic the intricate sounds and melodic cadence. " Fęrłåk dė hłał. It means to, eat well."
Dom gazes intently at you, then clasps his hands behind his back. "Walk with this one."  You wriggle your toes in your cozy socks and give a slight nod. 
As if guided by an invisible force, your steps align effortlessly with Dom's. The silence envelops you, but it feels far from uncomfortable. Your gaze wanders through the vast corridors of the ship, capturing glimpses of unfamiliar beings from distant worlds. At this moment, you break the silence and softly inquire, "May I know your name?"
With a quick glance, Dom's gaze shifts to you, his lips forming a straight line, prompting a frown to appear on your face. You ponder if your request was too bold, unsure of the cultural norms that may have been offended by your question.
As he utters the words, a sense of relief washes over you, even though his expression seems tinged with sadness. "This one's given name is Nim'xėn." he murmurs. In the distance, a group of his fimea approaches, but you remain oblivious, lost in your own thoughts. With a tender touch, he clasps your wrist and guides you to his side, yet your attention barely registers the gesture. [ soldiers ]
  "Nim'xėn, in the language I speak, translates to 'of soft heart'. It doesn't much fit, when it comes to this one's line of work." Your mouth opened in a small 'o', that was probably the reason he had stuck with Dom all this time. You laughed softly, holding your hands up in surrender when he shoots you a coltish look of exasperation. 
    "I think it fits, regardless of what you do." There is no trace of mockery in your tone, nor any hint of jesting at his expense. With a gentle smile adorning his face, he steals a glance at you. A surge of warmth courses through your veins, causing your body temperature to soar. Swiftly, he averts his gaze, evading your notice.
With a gentle laugh, he responds to your attempt at saying his name, "Nim'jin?" He guides you towards a door, "This one will help you practice your Tuökkorsė, later." You assume that he's talking about his home language and your cheeks flush with embarrassment, making you question just how badly you butchered his name.
As Nim'xėn gently swings open the door, a beckoning gesture invites you to step inside. Without hesitation, you follow the invitation, and in an instant, your jaw falls open in awe. Unbeknownst to you and Jess, who had been lost in slumber for over two hours, the ship had gracefully ascended into the vastness of space. The sight before you is nothing short of breathtaking, confirming your belief that waking up to the wonders of the cosmos is an experience beyond compare.
The space around you is encased in what looks like a delicate glass structure. You floated weightlessly in the vast expanse of the universe, far from the comforts of home. "Nim, this is truly breathtaking," you marveled. The alien blinked in response to the endearing nickname but remained silent. "Jess would love to see this." 
  Nim'xėn walks up behind you and fixates on the view he has witnessed countless times. However, inexplicably, he discovers himself treasuring your pįiwth expressions and yearning to unveil new wonders, all to witness your delightful grin once more. [ childish or cute¹ ] 
 "This one gives permission for you and your kin to visit here anytime." The enigmatic allure you possess has captivated him, leaving him bewildered. It is not his nature to be swayed so easily. He should have abandoned you on that desolate street, yet your innocent gaze had a profound effect on him. The depth of your love for your family astounded him, for even in the presence of imminent danger, your thoughts were solely consumed by her, and her alone.
Once he had escorted you to your room, his task should have been complete. Yet, your tender human hand had entwined with his own. Your unwavering trust and reliance had ensnared him, making it difficult for him to let go. In a realm where his female counterparts were independent and formidable, that moment of vulnerability had drawn him in, like a eürq to light.
 [ large mosquito like creature —  a saying similar to, ' a moth to flame ' ¹ ]
   Yet, he also knew how strong you were. None before you had managed to match his speed, let alone endure it for an entire three hours. Your unwavering determination fascinated him. Nim'xėn yearned to prolong your time together, reluctant to bid you farewell.
 Turning to the extraterrestrial, you met his gaze with the same wide-eyed innocence that had captivated him during your initial encounter. "Seriously?" His nod elicited a radiant smile on your face, reminiscent of the joy of Christmas, and Nim'xėn felt a flutter in his hearts. Your eyes then sought his. "How do you say thank you in your language?"
 Nim'xėn couldn't help but find it pįiwth¹ that you were making an effort to learn his people's language. He decided to humor you. "Stęq'hn kevvhr.²" The alien chuckles when you grimace, looking up at him with furrowed brows.  [ childish or cute¹ ] [ thank you² ]
 "Lirft X'ęnš, quœ mojå iėał ph'ük ak hlem.¹ "
As he tightens his jaw, a resolute grunt escapes his lips. Returning his attention to you, he observes the slight downturn of your plush lips and the tilt of your head to the side. "Do you need to leave, again?" Nim'xėn softly hums, his hand finding solace on your lower back as he leads you towards the door.
[ Captain X'ęnš, we need your assistance up front. ¹ ]
"This one will take you back to your room."
 As you tread back, a hushed calmness settles in, and Nim'xėn discerns that your thoughts have carried you away. Respecting your need for introspection, he chooses not to disturb your reverie. Upon arriving at the room, you turn around, meeting his gaze head-on. "Stęq'han kever." Without delay, you slip inside, leaving him standing there, his words left unspoken.
   He then realizes that while the two of you were walking back, you had been trying to replicate what he had just said. Nim'xėn, finding himself once more, made his way towards the pit. Despite your imperfect rendition, he grasped the essence of your intention and couldn't help but chuckle to himself.
phæż pįiwth ¹ he thought.  [ how cute. ¹ ]
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whitherwanderer · 2 months ago
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Incident Report: MORE THAN ONE
Investigator's note: ANGLER FISH
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peachsukii · 11 months ago
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Tidal Wave
『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡ summary: a horrible accident occurs while reader is on patrol for the night. when she's released, she runs to bakugo's apartment for support tags & warnings: loss of parent, failed rescue, trauma, angst, emotional comfort, fluff a/n: in my head, katsuki would be a very supportive BF who would comfort you after a bad day in any way he could, especially when it comes to losing people on the job. it's never easy and heroes need care, too!! ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 1,454 ꒱
Getting ready to head out for a short night shift, you text Bakugo to let him know you're safe. He's always worried whenever they schedule you super late, especially by yourself.
[you] i'm heading in now, want me to text you when i'm home? might be late [kat] yes, don't care. if i'm up or not, i'll at least know you got home safe [you] okay, love you [kat] love you too
───
Time of death; 12:05AM.
The rain pelted against the neoprene material of your hero suit as you stood with the paramedics.
“Y/H/N?” One of them called to you. “We need your report on the incident.” She waited beside you with a clipboard, her paperwork growing damp with each raindrop.
─── A normal late night patrol, you’d been walking a dimly lit street on your route when a small child came running up to you, latching on to your leg. She couldn’t have been more than 8 years old.
“Excuse me! Miss hero!” She sniveled as she buried her face against your thigh, clutching your suit in her tiny palms. She was shaking like a leaf - covered in, what you presume, is mud.
You slouch over, a gentle hand on her head. “What’s wrong, little one?” She looks up at you, her eyes the color of sapphires.
“My mommy is in trouble! I tried to help her, but…please miss hero, come with me!”
Her dainty fingers grab your hand and pull you in the direction she came from. A few minutes down the road, you see an older woman on the riverbank. She’s face down, it’s hard to see without direct light what exactly happened. You’re jogging over to her with the little girl by your side.
“Sweetie, can you tell me what happened?” You ask the child.
She wipes a dribble of snot on the back of her hand. “Mommy and I were walking over there,” she points to the nearby bridge. “And she fell over into the water!”
”You’re very brave to come find help,” you praise, giving her a pat on the back. “Let’s get your mommy away from the water while I call my friends to help.”
While waiting for the rescue crew to arrive, you cautiously move the mother further away from the edge of the river. Suddenly, she begins to seize, catching you off guard. She’s gasping for air, flailing her arms around with tears pricking the corner of her eyes. You roll her on her side, rubbing her back as you see the lights of the sirens coming over the bridge.
Come on, come on, get here faster!
The ambulance pulls up on the pathway and 3 paramedics dispatched from all sides. They’re running up to you, yelling, “Clear the way!” You take the little girl’s hand and guide her up the riverbank to the ambulance.
“She’s been poisoned! Grab the siphon kit, stat!”
As chaos is brewing all around, rain begins to patter against the grass outside. You’re wiping mud off of the little girl’s face as you hear, “We’re losing her!”
You place your hands softly over her ears, turning to the paramedics as they’re attempting to revive her mother.
Please, no...
"Is my mommy going to be okay?" the little girl asks sheepishly. You can't answer her, you just nod your head and smile the best you can. You have to keep a brave face for her.
Then, you hear the dreaded noise.
* Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep *
Your heart drops, sinking into your stomach as you squeeze your eyes shut. Everyone in the vicinity is holding their breaths collectively. The paramedic with the respiratory machine wearily gets to her feet.
"Mark the time of death as 12:05AM."
───
You’re on autopilot, shoving your emotions deep down as you recall the events of the night to the paramedic for her report. You can't emote right now, you have to pull it together until you can leave.
"The child will be brought into protective custody until we find a relative. Thank you for your service, Y/H/N. You're free to go - we'll take it from here."
Before leaving the scene, you take one last glance over to the small girl. She's under a blanket in the back of the ambulance, staring blankly into space.
It breaks your heart.
───
You're sprinting, faster than your legs can carry you, through the downpour as you approach Bakugo's apartment complex. What time even was it? Last you checked, almost 12:30AM. He's gonna be pissed when you wake him up.
You needed him, now more than ever.
You round the corner of the third floor and skid to a stop at his door, soaking wet, leaving a puddle onto the hallway floor. You can hardly breathe as you knock, praying he's either still awake or won't be frustrated.
Fuck, I should have just called.
To your surprise, Bakugo answers the door after only two knocks. His expression shifts violently from annoyed to worried when he sees you standing there, immediately pulling you inside and shutting the door.
"What the fuck happened Y/N?!" he asked, more so demanded.
You can't hold it together anymore - you crumble into his arms, sobbing hysterically. His t-shirt absorbs the waterfall of tears you're crying, inconsolable against his chest as he's supporting your weight.
He runs his hand through your bangs, brushing the wet strands away from your face.
"Shh, hey, it's alright," he whispers, stroking your wet hair. "Any louder and you're gonna get me a noise complaint."
You let go, realizing that you've made a mess of his entryway and his t-shirt. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't -"
"Y'don't have to explain shit. Now let me get you out of that before you catch a cold."
Bakugo spins you around, tugging at the zipper of your hero suit harshly. The skin-tight bodysuit under the rest of your gear loosens, letting him slip his hands inside and peeling it off of your cool skin. You didn't realize how cold you were until this moment, shivering beneath his touch. Your suit crumples onto the floor, along with the rest of your accessories, leaving you in your underwear.
He tenderly grabs your shoulders, pushing you toward the bathroom. Little droplets of water fall from your damp hair as he's leading you down the hallway.
Before you know it, steams is rolling out of the shower as Bakugo is stripping himself down to get in with you. He soothes you as he takes the rest of your clothes off, guiding you into the shower with him. He puts you under the water first, rinsing your body with the hot water to warm you back up.
As the water cascades around the two of you, he's stroking your back, eliciting the remainder of your emotions to come pouring out. A quiet sob escapes you as you try to explain yourself.
"I...I couldn't save her," you start to say, hiccupping between your words. "Her daughter was...she was just a kid...I couldn't help her mother."
Bakugo kisses your forehead. "I'm sorry, baby. I figured that was the case." He continues to wash your hair and body, peppering you with kisses and letting you cry out the feeling. He knows all too well how you feel - the first time you lose someone you're protecting on patrol hurts a fuck ton, no matter the circumstance. It never gets easier.
Once you're all cleaned up, he steps out of the shower first to grab towels. He hands you one as he exits the bathroom, muttering just a sec under his breath. Not more than a minute later, Bakugo returns with a handful of his clothes for you.
"Arms up, buttercup," he playfully sings as he throws the t-shirt over your head, ruffling it at the hem to get it to fit over your physique. He kneels to the floor, a pair of his boxers stretched out for you to step into. You oblige as he yanks them up your legs and comfortably settles them on your hips.
You shuffle your feet in place, slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry for making such a mess, Kat. I didn't know what else to do in the moment."
He cups your cheek in his hand. "Idiot, y'don't need an excuse to come to me. You should know that by now."
Bakugo takes your hand in his, leading you out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. He tucks you under the covers first and settles in behind you, immediately wrapping his arms around your midsection.
"I'll wash your suit for you tomorrow," he says hushed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you, baby."
"I love you too, Kats. Thank you."
Just a quick little blurb 'cause I wanted to write Katsuki being sweet without hesitation. :)
Divider by : @/saradika
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erinkeifer · 11 months ago
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The Informant
[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]
Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3
Summary: So, Anakin found out that you informed on him and Padmé at the Temple, leading to the end of his romance? Oh, your mistake. Just wait until he barges into your quarters to settle the score fairly.
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Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI | brutal smut | hate sex | angst | mirror sex | slapping | reader's serious injury during sex (head smashed against the mirror) | blood | PiV unprotected | hair pulling | cursing | degradation | dom!Anakin | sub!Reader | reader is toxic af | no comfort | no aftercare Author note: Yes, I haven't written many warnings before, but I consider this story to be one of my favorites that I've written. I've edited it many times - today I'm sharing it in a completely different form than it was meant to be, and it was supposed to be much darker. However, I don't want any content drama- I'm coming back after a long break and I want peace, so I assure you that every brutal move described in this story is motivated by immense sexual frustration on BOTH sides.
Word Count: 3,5k
Anakin stood behind the corner when you were selling him. He was there, gazing at your face, which seemed to be proud of itself and could barely restrain its foolish grin because you thought you were executing a perfect plan. "General… Unfortunately, they were there again, together… I want the best for Master Skywalker, and I can't help but be concerned that perhaps he puts… THOSE feelings above the gravity of the mission..." you spoke to Kenobi with that artificially emphasized solemnity from beneath which protruded the most insidious idea. Anakin clenched his fists, struggling to listen to your report deliberately designed to undermine him. He didn't know you had seen him with Padme. You didn't know he had seen you when you were informing. For a while, you were entangled in blissful ignorance, but soon everything was about to end in the worst possible way. ................................................................................................................. Weeks had passed since that incident, weeks during which Anakin ceased to be himself towards you - yet he had no intention of telling you why. In the first days, your training sessions became more intense - when you fell, he wouldn't lend you a hand, and when you took a hit too hard, he had no intention of apologizing, and your days didn't end with a smile he used to give you. You were sure that maybe he had worse days, perhaps the Council was giving him a hard time… There was also another option that you considered, and although you couldn't say it out loud - you counted on it the most. Troubles with Padmé.
Your unhealthy desire to take the place of that woman overshadowed your common sense, and you convinced yourself of it day by day, implementing increasingly risky and far-reaching ideas into your life. Your latest one was soon to show its effects- it was about to explode when early this morning, you learned that the senator you despised had left the Order's gates. The relationship between Anakin and Padmé had come to an end, and you were glowing.
On that day, you didn't encounter Anakin in the Temple. Your usual training took place with Kenobi instead, and although the older Jedi tried not to convey any negative emotions that day, you felt a crisis atmosphere in the air. You didn't know the details and were unsure of what exactly was happening. In the morning, you questioned your friendly, usually well-informed guards if they knew where your Master might be, but each person you asked seemed to have the same rehearsed version they were allowed to share. Were the details crucial to you? Probably not, as the only thing that mattered to you was to sense the right moment to implement your next plan. A plan titled: a caring, concerned Padawan who gets what she wants.
As you returned to your quarters in the evening, the corridors seemed darker than usual. With no significant missions left for the day, you had lingered a bit too long in the cantina, and it would be a lie to say that during your time there, you hadn't thought about Anakin. Where he was, what he was doing, what he was feeling… But what did his feelings truly mean to you, when your hands reached for the knife that, though invisible, stabbed Anakin straight in the heart? You didn't know yourself, but ironically, you were certain that the pain that would accompany your achievement would be swept under the rug. At this hour, you passed no one in the corridors- the atmosphere was so chilly that you instinctively quickened your pace to reach your quarters as soon as possible, to freshen up and forget all the tension. The doors, which you always had to unlock first, turned out to be unlocked- you probably forgot to do so the last time you left your place, and knowing your absent-mindedness well, you didn't dwell on it too much, simply closing them behind you and shedding your outerwear without hesitation as you made your way to the bathroom.
Though you felt like you were shining, you weren't shining at all. When you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you focused on the dark circles under your tired eyes, and your hair was a mess. So, you reached for the comb and painstakingly untangled each strand of your hair, helping yourself with your fingers. Finally feeling that your hair was suitable for a neat ponytail, you grabbed the nearest hair tie within your reach and tied your hair back enough so it wouldn't bother you while washing your face. The first splash of water was a relief for your face, but before the water reached the temperature you expected, the clogged sink managed to fill halfway with water. However, this didn't stop you from finally being able to apply your favorite cleansing gel to your face and wash away the dirt from the whole day. Sudden pain. Sudden pain stole your senses as you bent down under the running water. Instinctively, you grabbed onto the porcelain countertop when you choked on the water - not from a single drop, not from a stream accidentally spraying into your nostrils. Your face submerged in the water standing in the sink, and there was a hand on your neck that didn't belong to you.
For a moment, you felt like you were in nightmares, which, although rare, when they did occur, manifested in their most intense form. You thought someone or something was using the Force on you, but the touch squeezing your throat was real. Desperately, you gasped for air as the mysterious hand impulsively pulled your face out of the water, and when your lashes were finally free of water, the answer to all your questions was found in the mirror. "M-master…?" you mumbled with a muffled voice, feeling water rushing into your sinuses. Anakin stood behind you, his face practically devoid of any emotion, which probably scared you the most in this picture. His eyes, with dilated pupils that seemed darker than ever, stared at your reflection in the mirror lifelessly and without a hint of empathy. "What do you want to happen next?" he asked in a cold, hoarse voice. "Master, I think I don't underst…" "I'm asking clearly. What do you want to happen next?" he interrupted, sensing that you were playing dumb by responding this way to his words. "I… I… Really…" you started to stammer, lowering your gaze from his reflection in the mirror, but he was quicker to interrupt you again. You felt the strong grip of his second, mechanical hand on your shoulder as he turned you towards him, so that you leaned back against the sink, and your face, though much lower due to your difference in height, was inches away from his face.
"You know what happened. No one had to tell you. You know she's gone, and you know who's behind it." he continued, his hand that was previously on your throat now gripping your chin. "Master, I really don't…" you began, wincing in pain as his hand tightened almost to the point of bruising on your chin. "You damn well know who… And I damn well know who… All I want is to hear it from you." he added through gritted teeth, and at that moment, you felt a hatred unlike any you had ever felt before - not even when facing the worst, hostile scum on missions.
"I… I…"
"Exactly. You. You. And if something had tempted me earlier… I would have been done with you long ago, but I decided to wait, maybe nothing would happen, and I'd ruin your life…" Skywalker continued with deadly seriousness, and you realized how utterly hopeless your situation was.
"Anakin… I didn't want to! I didn't want it to happen this way! I…" you could have continued shouting, if Anakin's finger hadn't found its way in a silencing gesture over your lips.
"This way… Funny. Funny, because you did. You wanted it to happen, but according to your delusional script." Anakin spoke, and you preferred to stay silent. You listened and wished the ground would swallow you whole, most of all, terrified by the realization that everything he said was true.
"And you know, delusional scripts of filthy bitches like you rarely come true, don't they?" he continued, holding onto his terrifyingly serious tone.
Overwhelmed by shock, all you could manage was a numb nod of disapproval - you couldn't squeeze out a single word, and Anakin didn't even expect you to. "Let's consider, though… How it would look in your little, stupid head…" he added after a moment, lowering his hand from your chin, leaving your delicate skin reddened from the strong grip. "Assuming I didn't see or hear what you did in the council, and I lived in blissful ignorance… You'd now play the hero and pretend in front of me that you have shreds of humanity left in you and want what's best for me, wouldn't you?"
"But… I didn't say that I…"
"And you didn't have to. Just thinking it was enough, wasn't it?" Anakin folded his arms across his chest as he spoke these words, and you would be inclined to admit that beneath his controlled demeanor, he seemed on the verge of exploding at any moment. You wanted to run away, but you couldn't. You wanted to defend yourself, but you had nothing to defend yourself with. You wanted to speak, but you had no words. "It's nice to ponder like this… 'What if'… But we're here and now, and you still haven't answered my first question..." Anakin continued, and upon hearing the mention of the question, you raised your gaze to look at him. "What do you want to happen next?"
Skywalker left you in complete emptiness, posing the question once again. You felt so depleted that you had no idea what to expect - from him, from yourself, from everything. Your heart rate quickened with each moment of silence, and this time, Anakin seemed genuinely eager for your response. "Oh, don't bother. Especially since I know very well what you want to happen next." Barely had you processed your Master's words in your mind when two strong hands grabbed you at hip level and turned your figure back towards the mirror. You leaned against the porcelain sink with your front while he stood behind you, just inches from your back, his gaze fixed on your figure in the mirror wild and filled with hatred. "Do you know you've hurt me?" he asked after another moment of silence, placing his both large hands on either side of you, enclosing you. "And you know it's going to hurt?" he added shortly after, not giving you time to respond, assuming you knew well what you had done.
"I know." you answered with a trembling voice, not really aware of which of the two questions you subconsciously answered to him. "Good." he replied with a terrifyingly calm voice, then you heard the clinking of the belt from behind, sending shivers down your spine. "Bend over." he growled, and you did as he commanded, trying to sneak glances at him in the mirror opposite. "Give me that." he added after a moment, pointing towards the bandage scissors lying closer within your reach, and you obediently handed them to him. Anakin snatched the scissors from your trembling hand and without further hesitation, swiftly cut your thin jumpsuit at the waistline with one quick motion, without considering whether it would injure your skin. You hissed sharply as you felt the blunt blade irritating your skin, and just a few seconds later, a shallow, bleeding cut on your skin could be seen from the hole.
He had no interest in bothering with the zipper on your jumpsuit when he had a sharp tool at his disposal. The material split precisely at the cut, allowing him to tear it further and rip it around the circumference, so Skywalker didn't wait any longer. He yanked on the exposed fabric, and when he could afford it, he began to pull down the lower part of your torn jumpsuit. "You fuckin' slut…" he muttered when he saw that the part of the material he was pulling down revealed your bare ass without any underwear. You had your head bowed down, but upon hearing his words and being aware of what was happening, you smiled to yourself at the corner of your mouth. Your overly confident, slutty smile quickly vanished from your face as you opened your mouth in shock when Anakin entered you without warning - so quickly and desperately that part of the carelessly pulled-down fabric of your jumpsuit irritated his balls as he tried to bottom out. "Fuck…" he muttered through clenched teeth as you let out a long, dull moan. From his throat emanated a range of sounds that you had never heard before - even before he fully filled you, his breath was heavy and distinctly audible, but it was only now that you could hear the frustration pouring out of his vocal cords. His gaze in the mirror, aiming straight into your eyes, was both humiliating and arousing. You wanted it, and you couldn't hide it. If anyone was to destroy you after the failure of your plans, it was him - Anakin Skywalker. The man who was currently destroying you in the way you had dreamed of. "Anakin!" you yelled, your voice growing increasingly breathless by the second as he began to rhythmically pound into you. "What do you want? Should I go harder??" he grunted, gripping your hips tightly, occasionally tugging down on the shreds of your jumpsuit material that bunched up from his movements in frustration. He initiated it sloppily and desperately - without any preparation, standing behind you in his black robes, his cock protruding from the unbuttoned fly, teasing you with every dangling stride. Hopelessly, you nodded in agreement to his words, slowly allowing yourself to be completely consumed by the sensation he was giving you, but your lack of a clear response only fueled his frustration further. "Stop nodding and speak. I want to hear it." he demanded in a louder tone, his teeth almost constantly clenched. "I want… I want it harder…" you mumbled, unaware that you had just revealed to Anakin what he feared most - pleasure from what he was doing to you. He didn't want pleasure - he wanted a lesson that you would remember for the rest of your life - a lesson that would engrave into your mind that those who live by the sword, die by the sword. "You want it harder, you'll fucking get it harder." he whispered gruffly into your ear just before he began to thrust into you with all his length. With each forceful thrust, his partially exposed lower abdomen collided with the tattered fabric of your jumpsuit top, and with each deep penetration and withdrawal, you screamed in ecstasy. He wanted to see how he filled you inch by inch, so at one point, he hiked up part of his robe and looked down, proud of depriving you of your sanity.
"You fucking wanted this, huh? You fucking wanted this!" he grunted, instinctively quickening his movements, causing your body to arch to the point where the torn seams of your jumpsuit began to give way. When your eyes met again in the mirror, Skywalker couldn't resist and grabbed your tied-up hair with one of his hands that wasn't occupied with your hips. As you felt the intense tug, something inside you snapped – you didn't want to fight Anakin, but instinctively, you raised one of your hands, previously resting on the sink, and without knowing where you were aiming, you struck him in the neck.
"Whoa… woah… What? Don't like that anymore? What were you trying to do? Go on!" he paused his movements for a moment, holding onto the spot where you hit him for a few seconds before slowly continuing, leaving you completely disoriented and unsure how to explain. "Come on, slap me! Slap me!" he continued in a terrifyingly excited tone, and the slower he made his movements, waiting for your reaction, the more he motivated you to fulfill his demand. You swung your open hand towards his face, but from the angle you were in, you couldn't do it with force, and your hand barely touched and grazed his cheek.
"I said slap me, not grab me! Come on, try again, show me what you've go..." he interrupted as you made a second attempt, managing to slap him with an open hand to the face in the manner he expected. Initially, he fell silent in surprise, then let out a psychopathic laugh.
"Was that so hard, bitch?" he muttered through laughter, not giving you a chance to respond, completely disconnecting you from your senses as he began to fuck you with a speed your body couldn't handle. You bounced off him like a lifeless ragdoll as he used you like a fleshlight. Your babbling and moans were pathetic and unintelligible- clearly showcasing to Anakin how empty-headed you were at that moment, and he seemed newly recharged, ready to drain every last bit of energy from you. Both of you screamed, the mirror fogging up from your aggressive breaths, and your hands trembled, struggling to find stability on the porcelain sink. You saw sweat flooding him, his curly locks sticking to his forehead, framing his wild eyes, whose beautiful blue irises were barely noticeable with his dilated pupils. You saw the trace of your small handprint on his cheek, but the more aggressive thrusts you took, the blurrier your vision became.
"An… Anakin… I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" Sudden impact. A sudden impact momentarily cut you off from the world, and you began to see stars. Not from a spectacular orgasm, not from pleasure. His mechanical hand pushed the back of your head towards the mirror as your forehead shattered it into pieces, creating a spiderweb of glass adorned with your fresh blood. Perhaps both of you were shocked at that moment, so Anakin slowed his movements, but he had no intention of stopping, wide-eyed as he saw you disoriented and bloodied in the reflection of the shattered mirror. Seeing yourself, you felt like screaming, but you felt a hybrid of physical pain and the beginnings of an orgasm that robbed you of your voice. While adrenaline surged in Anakin to a dangerous level, he began to tremble. He began to pulse inside you, feeling on the brink of his own orgasm even amidst the awareness that he might have seriously injured you.
"M-master… I think… I think I'm bleeding." he heard your words as if through a fog, hearing only the buzzing in his own head signaling that he was about to climax. Your elbows buckled beneath you as his weight involuntarily pressed down on your body, and Anakin began to gasp chaotically with his head on your shoulder as his movements became erratic, and his warm seed filled you from within. You groaned with him, unsure if it was from pain or from finding yourself on the edge but not even attempting to explain it to yourself. Skywalker froze inside you for a moment, still pulsating, fearing that if he pulled out, his unstable trembling knees would give way under him, so he breathed warm breaths on your neck, unable to utter a word.
As soon as he pulled out, and you lost the support on his silhouette, you slid down, banging your knees against the cabinet under the sink and landed half-sitting on the floor. You saw Anakin tripled, looking up at him with tears-filled eyes as he stood, his hands trembling against the edges of the sink, and gazed at you with a hint of fear in his eyes. But as Padme returned to his mind, fear subsided, and he saw a successful revenge. He saw a conquest that wanted to be conquered, and he achieved it in the most unexpected way - unexpected even for himself.
"Anakin…" you whispered with a broken voice, smudging the blood flowing down your eyebrow with the tip of your finger, and he just watched, at a loss for words.
"It hurts… Can you…"
"I warned you it would hurt." he interrupted with a hoarse, dark voice as he fastened his belt and adjusted his clothes, clearly preparing to leave. Initially, he intended to leave without a word, took a few steps, casting a final glance at the shattered mirror, but paused at the door upon hearing your sobs.
"Grab a towel when you go to the Med Bay. Nobody wants a mess." he uttered in a cold tone without even making eye contact with you, then tossed you one hanging on the nearest hanger.
"Tomorrow morning, you're expected at training. I don't care what condition you're in. Alive or barely alive." he added before disappearing and slamming the door behind him, leaving you alone with your worries. You sat there, wounded and exhausted. Bruised and broken. Your Master - Anakin Skywalker - destroyed you, and you'll thank him for it.
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jacevelaryonswife · 5 months ago
Text
Hiding all of our sins from the daylight | Part Two
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pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader
summary: Even if you were willing to forget what happened, when you saw the prince that morning you knew that your relationship would never be the same.
word count: 3.191
tags: slight angst and adult themes
masterlist — previous part
A bond germinated between the prince and you as the days went by. There was no sin in your conversations, but a servant could never be friends with a nobleman, and above all: a woman could never be friends with a man. Although you believed that the existing dynamics with Jacaerys Velaryon did not fit into any of the previous options. It was your duty to be available to the prince of Dragonstone for what he wanted, and at the time, he needed a thoughtful listener.
"I don't want to fill my mother's head with my worries, even though I know she would listen. She is the queen and we are at war, it’s not time for this," was his justification.
The trust between you has developed slowly.
How are you feeling? Do you want to say something? Do you need anything?
It was the questions that guided the days following the incident with the wine. Over time, the prince began to report his dissatisfaction with the black council, either because of the way the queen didn’t let him act or how the other lords did not respect her enough.
"I just want to be useful for her cause, but she sees me as an incapable little boy," he shouted one of the times that the queen did not allow him to guard with Vermax.
"The queen cares about your safety, my prince. She suffers enough from the death of Prince Lucerys, she doesn't want to risk your life.”
“I'm not going to die!”
"You can't guarantee that, my prince."
And despite sometimes regretting not being formal enough in your answers, the prince showed satisfaction in the sincerity of your words more than once. Obviously no mention of your conversations with him was made for the other girls, you found it too dangerous.
And if there was anything beneficial for you, it was the opening that Rhaenyra Targaryen's heir gave so that your thoughts and feelings were also exposed. Superficial at first, experimental, but that became more intimate over the weeks.
"I try to keep myself constantly busy to ease my concerns about the war, but it's not working as I would like. Every night before bed I think about the worst,” you confessed a day after dinner, during the hour of the bat.
“Me too.”
The conversations became routine during breakfast while you cleaned his chambers and after dinner when you helped him sleep. Secretly, those were your favorite moments throughout the day, although you didn't want to admit it for a while.
The only problem with intimacy was to make you forget your place.
Sometimes, almost, an unweighted response was almost directed to the prince. Other times the physical comfort seemed to extrapolate while you smoothed his dark curls, although he did not manifest discomfort. He never did, actually. Maybe that influenced your behavior around him, especially when he began to reciprocate the attempt of comfort, touching your hand with nothing but respect and delicacy, although firm enough to be felt while you confessed your fears to him.
It was dangerous to allow such closeness to the prince.
You were no stranger to the stories of servants who fell in love with their lords, reciprocated or platonic, it was not something you sought to fantasize, promising yourself that you would immediately move away in the first different twinge in your heart. Although, dealing with feelings was not that simple.
That night, the prince was enthusiastic about the diplomatic experience with the Freys, telling every detail of the conversation accurately. He seemed quite proud to be useful, even the frown present in his feature in the last few days had disappeared.
“When I was a child, Viserys told me the Iron Throne would be mine one day,” Jace commented with a rare smile these days.
"He told?" You asked, knowing very well that it was true.
"A long time ago, before his health got worse, I think I was six years old," he replied on the other side of the table, keeping his smile open.
"Have you ever imagined yourself there?" A silly question, you thought.
“Sometimes, especially before war. Now I feel like I'm cheating on my mother,” his face hardened softly as he looked down.
"You are the heir of the Queen, it is not wrong to imagine your future," you tried to comfort him with the obviousness of the situation, although you understood what was going on in the prince's head and heart.
“I know, but just seems wrong,” he countered, looking at you. “How about you?”
“Me?”
"Have you never imagined yourself being the Queen?"
That made you chuckle. "There is a barrier that people like me should not overcome, even in thoughts," you almost laughing at him.
"Please, everyone has thought about sitting on the iron throne," he leaned totally against the chair, watching you with frowning eyebrows and a smile on his lips. as he totally leaned against the chair.
"I never thought such a absurd," you reinforced.
"I doubt it, have you never thought about being a noblewoman?"
"Of course I thought! I would be pleased to be the ugly daughter that no lord wants to marry, so I could enjoy my position without having only my side a decrepit old man as lord husband. But the Queen? I've never dared so much."
He laughed loudly and his eyes almost closed. "Well, I think it's a good plan, but I believe you would be a fine Queen."
That took you by surprise.
The absurdity of the statement made your eyes widen and your cheeks warm up. "And you will be a fine King," you replied with a giggle, doing little of what he had said - even you believed faithfully in your own statement.
Suddenly, you felt his gaze endure on yours in a different, more intense way, as if... he was seeing you, totally seeing you.
And that made your heart warm.
No, no!
“I must go, my prince. It's late,” you stood up immediately. "Do you need anything?"
He took a while to respond, shaking his head negatively. "N-no, I don't," getting up to accompany you to the door. "Listen, I- I have to say something to you."
Your heart was beating faster than usual and continuing in the presence of the prince did not improve the situation. You didn't know why you felt so suddenly affected, but you imagined that it was the ideal time to reassess the proximity to him.
“I would like to thank you for the support in these weeks, for listening to me,” he said.
"You don't have to thank me, my prince, it's my duty," you exhibited a restrained smile, holding your hands in front of your body.
“I know it's just-“
The previous look that made your heart warm returned, however, more nervous, afraid as he approached you. His hands held your face gently, not giving you time to move away before he leaned over to touch your lips. You froze in place, not being able to move a single member, even after the prince had moved away with terror in his eyes.
"I... I'm sorry, I didn't want to disrespect you, I promise," he said in despair, faster than he intended. "This is not going to happen again, I-
"It won't," you said, heart almost coming out of the chest, "We can't do that, Jace, I'm your servant- that-"
"It was my fault, I'm the one who has to beg for your forgiveness, I dishonored you," he almost spoke too loudly, almost.
"You didn't dishonor me!" You exclaimed as if it were obvious. "But that can't happen again. You are the heir to the iron throne and I am just a servant of low birth, there is no hope for us," your voice almost failed.
When Jace's eyes found the ground, his posture changed, the nervousness turned into something you didn't know how to identify, even though your own anguish was still very vivid while your heart beat fast.
"It's unfair," was all he said when he looked at you again.
“Indeed.”
A squeeze formed in your chest every second that your eyes remained connected, along with a restlessness that you did not know resided in your body until now. No, no, no...
In a bold attitude, you held his hands, uncertain of what to say, uncertain of what to do and uncertain of what you felt for him. It wasn't possible. Nothing, not a single word came out of your mouth while your heart beat faster and faster.
You shouldn't, you knew that, but maybe... maybe...
It was your turn to approach him, cautiously, absorbed in the brown of his iris and the way he mirrored your look.
There was no hurry to meet your lips this time, nor does it take long to be reciprocated. It was the kind of affection that women should have only with their lords husbands in the intimacy of their chambers, not with the prince of the kingdom whom you served and could harm yourself if you were caught.
But it seemed so right.
Your heart pumped soft fire through your body as the kiss gained layers, encouraging you to intertwine your fingers with his. It was not lascivious or obscene, but it involved your body during the act and made you float in the sweetness of his lips before it came to an end mutually.
Your hand slid to the side of his flushed face, smoothing his cheek gently. Even though part of your mind dealt with the turbulence of the situation, the other was delighted with the fullness of serenity.
"I've never been with a woman," he murmured about your touch, reluctantly. "I never wanted to ruin a woman outside of marriage."
Oh. That took you by surprise.
In fact, that brought you to reality again, but without the previous panic.
"You did it right," you comforted him with a restrained smile, feeling nervous. "There is no shame in that."
"I know, but I don't feel secure thinking about it."
Honestly, you didn't know what to say, but you knew that that situation could take a dangerous turn if it were prolonged. He could not consider such an act even for a second, so you just said goodbye to him immediately.
"It's late, you should rest, my prince."
The storm in his eyes almost snatched you together, but there was still prudence in your mind. There was no dispute on his part, allowing you to be involved by the coldness of the corridors until your rooms shared with the other servants. Although sleep wrapped around your body quickly, the prince stole your dreams with memories of what had happened.
When the nightingale time came, his image seemed almost palpable to your eyes. All you could remember were the lips of the princes against yours, the proximity, the softness of his hand, the way he looked at you.
It was dangerous.
All that was dangerous.
Especially for you. Nurturing an additional affection for the prince of the kingdom was a path of no return for ordinary people. There was no hope for you. There was no future between you. He would marry a lady of a important family and have little princes while you would perform your duty serving the next royal generations.
Even if you were willing to forget what happened, when you saw Jace that morning you knew that your relationship would never be the same.
"Good morning, my prince," was all you said when you entered his chambers.
Judging by the way the prince's gaze found yours, you believed he thought the same. “Good morning,” he replied in front of the window.
You left the breakfast on the table and went to organize the luxurious bed - unkneading the sheets and squeezing the pillows without looking at him while doing your work. Even though it was a rational attitude, the smell that emanated from the fabric transported you directly to last night, to the warmth of his lips, to the comfort of your hands and to the soft fire that warmed your veins.
Suddenly, you found yourself wanting more.
The subtle spark quickly turned into a fire, making you want to dive into bed and be surrounded by his smell, wanting to be kissed again in a sweet way, wanting his body pressed above your...
Wanting to make love to him.
Seven hells. No, it couldn't be.
The realization of the fact clouded your mind.
You felt nothing but the burning between your thighs, not even the repetitive call of your name by the prince. You wanted it, you wanted it, you wanted it.
You shouldn't, you shouldn't, you shouldn't.
In all these years you have performed your duty to the kingdom without any ambitions. Now, you believe you deserve enjoying a great pleasure and a great sin.
That's when the hand on your shoulder along with a call brought you back to reality.
"Are you okay?" The prince asked behind you.
There was nowhere to escape. And honestly, you didn't want to.
Taking him by surprise, you held both sides of his face and leaned over to capture his lips in a sweeping and demanding kiss, contrasting with the softness of the night before. Jace immediately corresponded, tying your waist and bringing your body closer to his. There was no fear in the way your lips moved or with the lack of distance between your bodies, on the contrary, you deepened the kiss and wrapped a hand behind his neck, breaking any space between you.
He reciprocated the vigor with the same intensity, savoring your lips as if they were the only thing that lacked him in life, almost pulling the air out of your lungs. You felt surrounded by the dragon fire and silently prayed to the Mother for your body to burn.
“I dreamed with you all night,” he whispered close to your lips, holding you close.
“Me too,” you slitted the apple from his cheek with your thumb. His lips were red, swollen, shiny and so tempting...
When you were about to lean again, knocks echoed from the door and made you jump back immediately, resuming your attention to the bed while the prince went to the breakfast table.
It was the Queen herself, talking to the prince of Dragonstone at the same time that you made a greeting to her.
“I wish to speak alone with prince Jacaerys.”
No other command was needed. With one last greeting, you left Jacaerys' chambers with a racing heart and trembling steps, as if walking on embers. The consequences of your actions would be disastrous if discovered, you were not foolish, but you couldn't help but want more. And can't you help but think about how that happened?
When did such a feeling arise and develop?
It was the questioning that guided your rest of the morning, the whole afternoon and the beginning of the evening. The duties kept him away from you, fueling concerns about a possible worsening for the queen's cause. Because of that, you decided to occupy yourself in the only way you knew: working.
You swept, cleaned, aired and washed until you were tired and coughing because of the dust.
At the end of the additional service, you went to the rooms shared with the other girls to clean yourself and be presentable to him, hoping to be able to see him during dinner.
It was insane, you knew that, but you couldn't help it. You wanted it, despite what it would imply.
And when thinking about what to enjoy with the prince would result, you realized something too serious to be ignored. What if you generated a bastard? Oh gods. Where were you with your head? How did you consider losing your maidenhead with a prince of the kingdom? It would be a scandal! You would be ruined! The queen would send you away, maybe to Essos at worst.
Nothing was effective to keep those thoughts away from your head, especially when you held his dinner with trembling hands. Everything got worse when he offered you a wide smile when entering his rooms, making you freeze briefly before walking to the table and greeting you with a reverence.
“Good evening, my prince,” you forced yourself to say.
“Good evening, my lady,” he replied humorously. "I missed you."
No, no, no.
You smiled insecure and looked down, unable to answer back.
“What's wrong?” He asked when he went to your meeting.
What should you say?
“I can't do that,” you chose to be brutally honest. "I can't get pregnant, I can't have a-" you couldn't say such a word, not in front of him, and you prayed that he wouldn't feel offended.
Unfortunately, his jaw closed and the posture hardened. Heavens.
"... a bastard?" He asked in a strangled voice. "I would never impute such a burden to you."
Your heart squeezed while remaining silent, too nervous to say anything. He seemed angry, creating a fear in your mind about the dragon's fury.
“And I would never dishonor you,” he added, holding your hands as his brown eyes warmed up. But that was Jacaerys, your prince and your friend who would never hurt you.
“I know,” you agreed with a nod and intertwined your fingers with his, being able to breathe relieved at last.
"Are you hungry?"
"No, I'm fine," you assured him with a soft smile.
"Eat with me, I don't have a big appetite."
You knew how to identify an order when you heard it. Of all the sins done and thought of in the last hours, sharing the meal with a prince was not so excruciating.
Sitting in front of him, you took a piece of bread and soaked it in the mushroom broth, watching him drink a generous sip of mead. None of you said anything for a while, leaving the noise of the violent sea wind that crashed against the walls of the castle being the only sound so far.
"What are we going to do?" He just asked.
"I don't know," you replied sincerely. "I think we should go back our dynamics, we can't be more than we are," your voice was lower than usual.
“I like being with you,” he said.
“Me too, Jace, but there's no hope for us,” you held his hand. "This will only break our hearts."
Although painful, that was the only truth that existed. He would never be yours. He would never abandon his duty to the kingdom for you, the opposite was just daydreams and songs invented to make ordinary life less gray. You were and would continue to be a servant and Jacaerys Velaryon would be just a sweet memory of something that could never happen.
Because that was just the order of things.
——————————————————————————
taglist: @hxtd @fkanitta @ladyofvelaryon @llynx7 @briarrainsstuff @jhepolie @dani-says-stuff @vavafaure1994 @fallenangel161 @naive-daydreamer @uhnanix @yrcbhu5wdv
a note: I know it take a while, but I really put all my efforts in here!
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the-thing-withfeathers · 4 months ago
Text
detention
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requested
a/n: yuggghhhh cheerleader!mads brainrot
pairing: cheerleader!madison beer x f!jock!reader
warnings: smuuuut!! cursing, oral & fingering (mads receiving), almost getting caught, public sex.
•*¨*•.¸¸♪
“detention!”
your teacher yelled at you as you knocked over the bunsen burner after fooling around with your other teammates. you were meant to be doing an experiment that required you to mix several compounds together.
you and your two other teammates couldn’t be bothered with chemistry, it was one of your weak subjects and you preferred to have fun with it when you could.
when you three mixed together random compounds, you found yourselves creating a concoction that started to overflow out of its beaker. you flooded the entire table with it and while stepping back, you knocked someone else’s bunsen burner & several beakers over.
when the teacher called out your name, you just smiled sheepishly. “sorry miss! we just couldn’t tell which one it was!”
your teacher, ms. johnson, was probably the strictest one in the school, even if it wasn’t your fault, she would have found a way to send you to detention anyways.
“to the principal’s office you go. you need a detention slip and you need to fill out an incident report.” ms. johnson said, grabbing the back of your varsity jacket and throwing you in the direction of the door. “you’ll do detention today after school.”
your girlfriend sat on the opposite side of the room, next to one of the other cheerleaders as well. you walk over to her while walking over to the exit, you lean over the table as an attempt to talk to her.
“i hate keeping my girl waiting but looks like our date is gonna have to wait, baby.” you said, kissing her cheek. you were completely shameless about your love for madison, you wanted everyone to know she was yours at all costs. you revelled in the fact that you managed to get the most beautiful girl in the school to be yours.
“maybe… or maybe not.” she said, her chin being held up by her hand. “i can’t stay away for very long.” she said, biting her lip while turning to look at you.
you looked at her in confusion for a second before you felt the back of your jacket get grabbed again.
your teacher pushed you towards the door, your eyes looked away from madison and at the path in front of you so you wouldn’t trip. suddenly, you heard several instances of glass shattering.
“ms. beer!” ms. johnson exclaimed in fury. beer?!
your eyes shot around to see that madison had deliberately shattered several beakers, holding another one in her hand.
“you two…” the older woman grumbled, “go.” she said, directed at you, “i have to deal with this one here.”
while you got shoved towards the open door, basically stepping outside. you winked at madison, a smirk growing on her face. she matched that smirk and gave you a wave with just her fingers, blowing a kiss right after.
fuck, this girl will be the death of you.
•*¨*•.¸¸♪
you had the rest of the day away from madison. your schedules didn’t line up and the principal escorted you to your class so you couldn’t even stall for time to see her at the office.
you sat in the classroom, your homework sitting right in front of you. neither of you had practice today so you were mainly waiting for madison to finish up class, if she had secured that detention from ms. johnson as well.
you thought back to chemistry, a smile growing on your face at how madison would have done absolutely anything to spend time with you. you couldn’t help but be turned on by the idea of rewarding her for it in this very classroom.
the door swung open and there she was, your cheerleader girlfriend in all her glory, escorted in by another teacher to make sure she got there.
ms. johnson was in charge of detention today. she kept you two seperated in different parts of the room. madison was all the way in the front and you were in the very back. that didn’t stop you from staring at her though.
she was testing you. whenever she stretched and her uniform top would rise up a bit too high, revealing the skin of her back. whenever she would shift in her seat and her skirt bunched together or lowered itself, revealing her lacy pink underwear. she was testing how far you were willing to go to please her.
she couldn’t turn around or else she’d get in trouble, she knew that. but she hated not being able to see how hard you were biting your lip to keep yourself contained.
ms. johnson finally cracked and excused herself to go to the bathroom. you knew the staff bathroom was across campus and ms. johnson refused to use student ones.
now was your chance.
you practically sprinted across the room, kneeling down behind madison’s chair.
“hey babygirl…” you whispered, a grin on your face.
“hi there… was it working?” madison chuckled.
“oh yes it was.” you nodded, pushing her hair away from her neck and placing soft kisses. “you’re so fucking pretty.”
“i couldn’t let detention keep us away from each other.” she sighed, craning her neck to let you in closer.
“of course not… i would have missed you too much.” you reached around to grope her breasts over the fabric of her cheerleading uniform. you pulled away for a second. “where did your bra go?” you asked.
“took it off before i came here.” she shrugged.
“you know me too well.” you continued to kiss her neck, your hand slipping under her shirt, massaging one of her boobs.
madison felt heat build up in her lower half, soft moans emitting from her lips. she knew the location wouldn’t stop you no matter how public or risky it was, and she thrived off of the fact that you needed her no matter what.
“c’mere.” you said, standing up and pulling her with you. you pinned her against the teacher’s desk, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. she wrapped her arms around you and tangled one of her hands in your hair.
“are you about to fuck me on the teacher’s desk?” she asked while still against your lips.
“yes. any protest?” you pulled away, lifting the top half of her uniform to free her unrestrained breasts. you felt yourself moan softly upon seeing them.
“no. not at all.” she shook her head. you kissed her again and she pushed your letterman jacket off you. she gripped your arms as you two kissed, she loved how toned you were getting the more you exercised. you lifted her then pushed her down so she was laying on her back on the desk.
you pushed her legs up, bending them so her feet were flat on the desk. you knelt down, you surprised yourself when you realised she wasn’t wearing panties either.
“baby!” you gasped a little. “is that why you took ages to come? were you stripping your clothing away?” you said, running your finger along her soaking slit.
her fingers wrapped around the edge of the desk, she whined softly. “no…! i had class too.”
“too?” you chuckled. “so you were stripping.”
“shut up and just fuck me, will you? we don’t have the time.” madison smacked your arm from where she was, tilting slightly to look at you. “make it quick.” she ordered.
“as my princess wishes.” you leaned forward, wrapping your lips around her aching cunt. your tongue flicked against her clit and you felt her start to rut against your face.
god, she was needy.
you made swift work of sucking and biting her clit, anything to get her closer to her orgasm. you gripped her ankles as you felt them start to shake, planting them down harder so you would have more access. you reached up in between her leg, one of your hands toying with her nipple as you let her noises fill the room.
she was holding onto her other tit, softly whimpering as she ground herself against your face. your nose and chin were covered in her arousal.
“fuck, baby.” she choked out, a sharp inhale following it. “you eat me out so good. love seeing you in between my legs.” her head fell backwards and her eyes rolled into her skull. “feels so fucking good.”
her arousal mixed with your saliva was forming a pool on the desk, you’d never gotten her this wet before. you thought that the risk of being caught at school made it better for her, after all, she loved making sure people knew how good you made her feel.
you slipped two fingers into her hole, moving them without letting her adjust. she gasped, her head jolting up.
“mmmmmm…” she cried out, her bottom lip captured between her teeth. “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” she said with cut off breaths.
“that’s it baby, doing so good. you’ve gotta cum for me now or we’ll both get caught.” you edged her on, feeling her walls clench around your two fingers.
“i wanna get caught with you.” she whispered out through her labored breaths, her chest rising and falling. “wanna make sure everyone knows you fuck me best.”
you chuckled against her clit, you loved how possessive she got at times. the vibrations from your laughter sent her over the edge.
“gonna— gonna cum!” she yelled, her hands flying to your hair and pushing your face deeper into her. “ohh… fuck!” she cried out, her upper body arching backwards as she came all over your face. you stuck your tongue out to help her ride her high out, pulling your fingers out of her and standing up.
you walked over to where her face was, she was practically sprawled across the desk. you put your two fingers against her lips, forcing them into her mouth.
“yeah baby, taste yourself.” you said. her tongue swirled between your digits, licking up her cum.
you heard footsteps approach. you two quickly ran back to your seats. madison struggled, her legs nearly giving out but you assisted her in getting back. she pulled her shirt back down and fixed her shirt. you picked up your jacket and quickly threw it back on, practically falling into your seat.
ms. johnson walked in, glaring at the two of you. you made it look like you were doing work, madison made it look like she was putting her stuff away.
“okay, detention’s over. go home, don’t cause any trouble.” ms. johnson said, leaving the door open for the two of you.
you and madison left the premises hand in hand, her giggling was music to your ears.
“i can’t believe we just did that.” she said.
“i can. you’re too impatient.” you retaliated, nudging her waist with your elbow.
“okay… fair enough. drive me home?” she asked, smiling up at you with all her teeth out. those pleading eyes were hard to resist. “and stay?”
“mmm… how could i ever say no to that?”
“you can’t.” she shook her head at you, biting her lip.
“okay, i’ll drive you.” you gave in to her too quickly.
“perfect… i’ll even give you a little treat for it.”
“y’know, you say that and always end up fucked out.” you joked, tilting your head at her with raised eyebrows.
“i love being fucked out. especially by you.”
“madison! you kiss your mother with that mouth?!” you exclaimed, walking with her to your car.
“what’re you gonna do about it?”
“fill it.”
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silverynight · 9 months ago
Text
Dynamight's type
Izuku has noticed that whenever someone asks Katsuki's certain questions during interviews he gets really irritated; it's usually things about love and relationships that bother him the most.
It's one of the many reasons why Izuku hasn't told his best friend he likes him romantically; maybe Katsuki is not interested in romance at all or he just hates sharing his love life with the world.
Although it's not like Izuku ever thought he had a chance; he probably doesn't. Sometimes he thinks about looking for someone to start a relationship with.
"Let's move in together," Katsuki tells him for the... actually, Izuku has lost count of how many times he has told him that.
But Izuku always thinks he doesn't mean it because it doesn't make sense.
"Why?"
"Just because..." Katsuki says this time, looking particularly frustrated.
"We don't have the need to," Izuku points out, getting a little bit confused by his friend's response.
"I know."
"Kacchan... what if one of us starts dating soon? Wouldn't that be–"
The look Katsuki throws at him is enough to make Izuku shut up immediately; the other pro hero not only looks angry, he also seems hurt.
"Are you seeing someone?" The way Katsuki asks the question makes it look like each word is hurting him somehow.
"No, but–"
"I'm not going to start dating an extra!" Katsuki growls and, as usual, he walks away more irritated than when the day started.
Izuku honestly doesn't get it.
However, he usually goes back to normal when his patrol begins.
Until a reporter finds him after an incident; just right the moment after Katsuki and Izuku manage to save a group of people from a villain.
Actually, there are a couple of reporters, one of them even tries to corner Izuku and instead of asking him about the villain or the civilians, she asks Izuku about romance.
Alright, Izuku has started to get why Katsuki gets irritated at those type of questions.
"Are you dating someone at the moment, Deku?" The young woman asks, smiling at him and using one of her fingers to play with her own hair.
Izuku doesn't understand; is she nervous?
"Uhh... no."
"That's great!"
Not that far from him, one of the reporters is asking about Katsuki's type... again.
"So what would your ideal date be, Deku?" The reporter manages to draw Izuku's attention away from his friend.
"Maybe an amusement park? Sharing a crepe?" The green haired hero doesn't mean to make it sound like a question, but interviews always make him feel flustered.
"That'd be a perfect date for me too!" The girl says. "Would you like to–"
"DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW MY FUCKING TYPE?" Katsuki's loud voice cuts off the reporter who's interviewing Izuku.
"Of course, Dynamight!" It's a good thing most of the reporters are used to Katsuki's explosive personality already.
Instead of answering right away, Katsuki gets closer to Izuku and to everyone's surprise, grabs the other pro hero's freckled face and kisses him on the lips.
"There. That's my type!" Katsuki growls as Izuku's face turns completely pink. "Him. Only this nerd. Now, fuck off!"
The female reporter who was asking Izuku questions looks particularly upset about what happened, although it seems like she's a little bit reluctant to go... but she does anyway when she notices Katsuki is glaring at her.
Izuku doesn't get his hopes up, because it's obvious that Katsuki only wanted them to stop asking questions about his love life.
"But Kacchan... they're going to think we are–"
"Move in with me."
"Why?"
It feels like this is not the moment to have the same conversation all over again, but there's something different in Katsuki's eyes this time; he looks determined.
"Because I'm in love with you, oblivious nerd!"
Izuku's face is on fire, he's sure of it; Katsuki just told him he loved him. It almost seems like it's a dream.
"Are you sure, Kacchan?" His voice doesn't sound shaky at all, which is something Izuku feels ridiculously proud of.
"Of course I am! Wouldn't be asking you if I wasn't!"
After a heartbeat in which Izuku thinks about all the time they've been together and tells himself this is going to work, he nods.
"Let's move in together, Kacchan."
Just a year later, Katsuki proposes to him and of course, Izuku can't help but tear up. He's never been so happy before.
***
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