#but the line between love and hate was so thin I ended up completely on the other side eventually 😂

[iris-qt]

𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕

ᴘᴛ. ɪɪɪ ᴛᴏ ꜱɴᴏᴡᴇᴅ ɪɴ

❆ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍɪᴄ ʀɪᴠᴀʟꜱ | 4.1ᴋ

❆ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴜʟᴇ ʙᴀʟʟ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʀᴇꜱᴜʟᴛꜱ ɪɴ ᴇɴᴅʟᴇꜱꜱ ʙɪᴄᴋᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴀꜱʜɪɴɢ ɪᴅᴇᴀꜱ. ᴡɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀꜱᴋ…?

Since the pub fiasco, things between you and Theodore Nott had been…complicated…to say the least.

Your rivalry hadn’t disappeared, but it had shifted. The biting insults were still there, but now they came with the faintest of smirks, like private jokes only you two understood. Your exchanges were just as sharp, but they lacked the venom they once carried.

Neither of you would ever admit it, of course, but you’d started seeking each other out, whether it was in the library, where you pretended not to notice Theo sitting at the same long table…

Theo:"Don’t you have a dorm to clutter instead of my table?" You: "Don’t you have a personality to develop instead of bothering me?" Theo: "Rude. Effective. Fine, move over."

…or in the Great Hall, where Theo always seemed to have a cutting remark ready as you passed by.

Theo: "Careful, y/l/n, the food might taste better if you don’t glare at it." You: "Careful, Nott, your ego might shrink if you didn’t open your mouth so often." Theo: "Impossible. Unlike your appetite for misery, my ego is perfectly proportioned."

It was a delicate balance. Too much truce, and it felt…strange. Too much animosity, and you risked losing whatever unspoken rhythm you’d found.

Your friends noticed, naturally. Pansy teased relentlessly, Mattheo made dramatic proclamations about the “thin line between love and hate,” and Blaise mostly looked amused. 

You and Theo ignored them.

Whatever this was, you two weren’t about to let anyone else define it.

It wasn’t peace. It wasn’t war. It was something in between, and for now, that was enough…

…

Theo Nott stood in the Head of Houses' make-shift office room, glaring at the 6 of the other Heads of Houses like they were the most disappointing bunch of students he’d ever had the misfortune of sharing a room with.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath, pacing back and forth. “We’re less than a month away from the Yule Ball, and this is all we’ve got?”

Edward, one of the Heads of Gryffindor, was twirling his wand, clearly uninterested in the task at hand. “Relax, Theo. It’ll come together. I’m sure we can throw a decent party.”

Theo stopped in his tracks, pursing his lips. “A decent party? That’s what you’re going for? This isn’t a birthday bash in the common room, Edward. It’s a ball.”

“Right, right,” Edward mumbled, his attention already drifting to something shiny on the edge of the table.

Lydia, one of the Heads of Hufflepuff, was flipping through a magazine that looked suspiciously like Witch Weekly, completely uninterested in the task at hand. “Well, I’m sure you two will figure it out. I’ve got some…uh…research to do for Herbology. Very important stuff.”

Theo’s eye twitched. “Research? For Herbology? Now? You’ve got one job, Lydia!”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said, waving a hand dismissively.

Theo’s frustration was mounting. “Oh, I’m sure it will be. Because leaving me and y/n to deal with the entire thing will definitely end up fine”

Lydia just smiled and shrugged. “You two are the most organized, Theo. I’m sure it’ll go swimmingly.”

At that, he turned sharply back to Edward, who was now slouched in his chair, fiddling with his quill like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Edward! Please tell me you’re at least doing something useful,” Theo growled.

“Just making some notes for next week’s lesson,” Edward mumbled, not bothering to look up.

Theodore was this close to throwing something at him when you walked in, your usual confidence filling the room as you dropped a stack of parchment onto the table.

“Am I the only one who actually wants this thing to work?” you asked, voice sharp but not unkind. “Because judging by the looks on your faces, I might as well be planning it alone.”

Theo leaned against the desk, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, no. You’re not planning it alone, y/n. You’ll have me to deal with, for better or worse.”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “Well, that’s reassuring.”

Theo’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’ve got a vision. We just need to work out the details. It’ll be a modern look. Something with a bit of edge. None of this…” he looks through the collages you had made for inspiration…“fairy tale bullshit.”

“Modern?” your tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Are we going to turn the Great Hall into a night club or something?”

“Maybe. At least it’ll be memorable,” Theo said with a shrug.

“I’ll take the fairy tale idea, thanks,” you shot back, folding her arms. “It’s elegant. Classic..”

Theo chuckled. “Ah, yes. You’re all about the classic look. No surprises, no creativity. Just the same old thing.”

“Well, someone has to make sure it doesn’t look like a disaster,” you retorted. “Not all of us are trying to turn it into the next underground club.”

Theo grinned, leaning back with a dramatic flourish. “I’m not trying to turn it into a nightclub, y/n. I’m simply bringing a little style to the event. Besides, who doesn’t want flashing lights and a VIP section?”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Right, because nothing screams ‘classy Yule Ball’ like strobe lights and velvet ropes.”

Theo smirked, clearly enjoying your response. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re on the VIP guest list. Wouldn’t want you to miss your chance at the exclusive after-party.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smallest smile. “I’ll stick to a fairy-tale theme, thanks. Less bling and more charm.”

Their banter hung in the air, and for a moment, it was clear that the other Heads (Edward, Lydia, and the rest) were more than happy to quietly exit and leave the two of them to it.

And so, it was settled.

The Yule Ball would be left in the hands of You and Theodore Nott.

Great. Just great.

…

Theo Nott stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, arms crossed as he surveyed the chaos in front of him. There were enough tinsel, garlands, and fairy lights, but somehow it still felt like the Great Hall was more mess than festive.

“I swear, y/n,” he muttered under his breath, “if I have to fix one more of these ridiculous tablecloths, I’m going to set fire to them.”

You, standing on a ladder above him, glanced down with a raised eyebrow. “A fire, Nott? Really? I’m pretty sure the only thing that would accomplish is a trip to the hospital wing for third-degree burns.”

Theo shot you a glare. “I’m just saying. We’ve been here for hours, and none of this is coming together. Maybe it’s time to ditch the glitter and go with something a little... less tacky.”

You hopped off the ladder with a huff. “Tacky? You’re the one who wants to hang neon lights around the room.”

Theo threw his hands up in mock frustration. “Neon lights are a statement! They’re dramatic! They create atmosphere.”

“Right,” you said, “because nothing says winter wonderland like flashing rainbow lights.”

He paused, trying to stifle a grin. “Well, maybe not rainbow. But I could make a case for a few subtle hues. There’s something elegant about a deep blue.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure, as long as it doesn’t look like we’re hosting a rave. Why don’t we just use past ideas at this point and let this Ball be about, I don’t know, tradition?”

Theo shot you a pointed look. “Tradition is for people who don’t like fun.”

“And fun is for people who think stringing up tinsel like a toddler on a sugar high is a good idea,” you quipped, hands on your hips.

Theo was about to respond when a roll of tinsel, which he had been attempting to place over one of the columns, suddenly fell and unraveled, covering him in glittery silver strands.

“Well, that’s just perfect,” Theo said dryly, his voice muffled as he tried to untangle himself.

You stifled a laugh, crossing the room toward him. “Well, if your goal is to look like a Christmas tree threw up on you, congratulations. You're succeeding.”

Theo shot you a look that could’ve melted the frost on the windows. “You know, I could always just start throwing glitter at you until you match the decor.”

You raised an eyebrow and sauntered over, leaning casually against the column beside him. “You couldn’t handle my level of shine, Nott. But honestly, at this rate, it might be easier to just call this a glitter disaster and be done with it.”

Theo finally pried the tinsel off his coat, brushing it off with a sigh. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. But if we’re going full disaster mode, I’m bringing out the neon lights, too.”

“Please,” you said, throwing your hands up. “That’s the real disaster.”

Theo smirked, rolling his eyes.

You looked around at the chaotic scene of hanging streamers, half-decorated tables, and lights that flickered like malfunctioning stars. “You know what? I think we’re doing better than I expected.”

Theo eyed you, his grin fading into something more sincere. “You’re kidding, right? This looks horrendous”

“Well,” you said, taking a step closer, “my standards for us were in hell. Now let’s see if we can turn this mess into something that doesn’t get us expelled for crimes against decor.”

Theo gave you a sidelong glance, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Deal. But I think we both know this nightclub is going to be a hit.”

Just then, the door creaked open. Mattheo, Pansy, Draco, and Blaise sauntered in, looking far too suspicious for people who were supposedly just dropping by.

“Oi, don’t mind us,” Mattheo called, flopping into one of the chairs with his feet up. “Just here to, you know, observe.”

Pansy raised an eyebrow, strolling in after him. “Yep. You two are doing such a brilliant job, I thought we’d pop by for moral support.”

You shot Theo a look, smirking. “Oh, it’s fine. You’re just in time to save us from this impending disaster. Any suggestions?”

Pansy leaned in conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a whisper. “How much do you think we can bet on Nott and y/l/n completely ruining this before the end of the week?”

Mattheo grinned, resting his chin in his hand. “Ooh, I’ll take that bet. I’m going for at least 48 hours of continuous arguing.”

Theo shot them a glare. “You’re both brilliant, aren’t you?”

Blaise, who had been quietly observing from the corner, added dryly, “Honestly, I’m just here to watch the fireworks. Should be fun.”

Draco, who had been standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, finally spoke up. “I’m here for the chaos.” He gave a sly smile. “Call me when things get really interesting.”

You crossed your arms, shooting Mattheo a playful look. “I don’t know, Nott. Maybe your friends are right. Maybe we’ll be the ones who ruin it all.”

Theo smirked. “Oh, don’t worry, y/l/n. If we ruin it, it’ll be in style.”

Pansy laughed. “Style? With these decorations? It looks like Santa’s workshop threw up everywhere.”

Theo flinched dramatically. “And that’s why I’m in charge of the good ideas. You’re welcome.”

You crossed your arms, looking around the chaos. “Let’s just hope we can make this place look like a Ball and not some last-minute student party, yeah?”

Theo shot a look at Mattheo, Blaise, and Pansy, who were busy whispering bets in the corner, then back at you. “Fine. But if this turns into a rave by the end of the night, don’t act surprised.”

…

The Great Hall shimmered in the late afternoon light, a nearly magical blend of your elegant winter wonderland and Theo’s sleek, modern touches. It was starting to come together. 

Finally. 

A delicate balance of snow-kissed charm and understated drama filled the room, making the hours of arguments almost worth it.

Almost.

You stepped back, examining one of your enchanted centerpieces: a fragile ice sculpture enchanted to glimmer faintly with the colors of the aurora. It was breathtaking, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride.

“Careful with that one,” you called over your shoulder as Theo strode by. “It’s... delicate.”

“I’m not an oaf, y/l/n,” Theo shot back, adjusting the lights around the tables. “You act like I’m about to smash-”

CRASH!

You spun around just in time to see one of your precious centerpieces toppled on the floor, the delicate ice shattered into glinting shards. Theo froze, his face a mix of guilt and disbelief as he stared down at the wreckage.

“Oh, for the love of…Theo!” your voice cracked, hands flying to your head.

“It was an accident!” Theo defended quickly, his tone panicked. “I didn’t see it there, I-”

“That took hours,” you cut him off, voice trembling. “I’ve been working on these all week, and you-”

Your words faltered as the stress of the past few days hit you all at once. Your throat tightened, and before you could stop herself, tears welled in your eyes.

Theo’s panic softened into concern the moment he noticed. “Hey,” he said quietly, stepping closer. “Don’t…don’t cry. It’s just a centerpiece. We can fix it.”

“You don’t get it!” your voice wavered, and you wiped at your face in frustration. “I’ve been killing myself trying to make this perfect. And now-”

“And now it’s just one centerpiece,” Theo interrupted gently. He hesitated, then placed his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Y/N, look at me. Everything else in here looks incredible. You’ve made this incredible.”

Your breathing hitched, but Theo’s calm voice and steady gaze kept you grounded.

“I’m serious,” he added, his voice softer now. “You’ve worked harder on this than anyone, and it shows. If you ask me, this Ball wouldn’t even happen without you.”

You blinked at him, tears slowing. “You really think it’s not...a total disaster?”

Theo’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Are you kidding? It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart gave a traitorous flutter, and you quickly glanced away. “You’re just saying that because you broke my centerpiece.”

He chuckled softly, then, on impulse, pulled you into a quick hug. You stiffened for a moment before relaxing against him, the warmth of his embrace unexpectedly soothing.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “For the centerpiece and for...being a general pain the last few days.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “You have been a pain.”

Theo smirked, his usual confidence returning. “So have you.”

You both laughed, the tension easing for the first time in what felt like days.

“Alright,” you said, stepping back after Theo uses his cold thumbs to wipe away your tears. “We still have time to fix this. If we combine our ideas properly we can make it even better.”

Theo nodded, a spark of determination in his eyes. “Agreed. Truce?”

“Truce,” you said firmly, shaking his outstretched hand.

The two of you worked tirelessly for the next few hours, blending your enchantments with Theo’s dramatic flair. By the time the first guests began arriving, the Great Hall had been transformed into something truly spectacular: a shimmering dream of frost and light, elegant yet modern, with just the right amount of sparkle.

As you two stood in the now quiet Great Hall admiring your hard work, Theo caught your eye from across the room, a smug grin on his face as he leaned against a column.

“Told you we’d pull it off,” he said, his voice full of exaggerated confidence.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Yeah, but the night’s still young. Let’s see how long it takes before this place becomes a disaster.”

Theo shot you a playful wink. “If it does, I’ll take full credit. You’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. “My hero,” you said sarcastically, tone dripping with mock sincerity.

…

The Great Hall glittered like something out of a fairy tale. Chandeliers floated overhead, their soft glow casting an ethereal light across the room. The enchanted snow you had insisted on fell gently from above, disappearing before it touched the ground. Around the room, Theo’s sleek, understated accents of deep blue and silver added a layer of sophistication, perfectly complementing your enchanted centerpieces and frosted décor.

The crowd had just begun to gather, students marveling at the transformation. Theo stood near the entrance, surveying the scene. For once, he didn’t feel the urge to nitpick. It looked...perfect.

Still, he found his attention wandering, searching for someone.

And then, he saw you.

You entered the Hall, and for a moment, Theo forgot to breathe. 

Your dress was a masterpiece, flowing silver fabric that shimmered like starlight with every step you took. The intricate detailing at the bodice sparkled faintly, mimicking the enchanted snow falling above. Your hair was swept back elegantly, with just a few loose strands framing your face.

Theo swallowed, his usual composure faltering. Merlin, she’s gorgeous.

He tried to school his expression, but his traitorous thoughts kept running wild. How does she manage to look like that and still act like she doesn’t care?

You caught sight of him and smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made his chest feel strangely tight. Get it together, Nott, he told himself, straightening his posture.

As you approached, Theo managed to find his voice. “You, uh...clean up well, y/l/n.”

You laughed softly, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Thanks, Nott. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He glanced down at his sharp black dress robes with their subtle silver accents and gave a small shrug. “Well, I had to keep up, didn’t I?”

Before you could respond, your guys’ friends appeared, clearly ready to tease.

“Alright, what is this?” Pansy demanded, waving a hand between you two. “Are you two actually getting along?”

Mattheo smirked, looking between the pair. “I told you they’d pull it off. I didn’t think they’d look this cozy doing it, though.”

“Cozy?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “We’re just enjoying the Ball.”

“Sure you are,” Mattheo said, smirking. “Let us know when the wedding is.”

Theo rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the small grin tugging at his lips. “Don’t you lot have something better to do than stand here pestering us?”

“We could,” Pansy said breezily, “but watching you two is way more entertaining.”

You shook your head, clearly fighting back a laugh. “Go enjoy the Ball, will you?”

Their friends finally dispersed, though Pansy and Mattheo exchanged smug looks as they walked away.

As the music shifted to a slower melody, Theo glanced at you. He hesitated, then held out a hand. “Care for a dance, y/l/n?”

You tilted your head, studying him with a small smile. “You’re serious?”

“Don’t look so surprised,” he said lightly, though his heart was hammering in his chest. “I can be charming when I want to be.”

“Alright, Nott,” you said, placing your hand in his. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As they moved to the dance floor, Theo found himself relaxing, falling into the rhythm of the music. You were a natural, and for once, he wasn’t thinking about impressing anyone or winning an argument.

“You know,” you said softly, “this turned out better than I thought it would.”

Theo looked down at you, his expression softening. “Yeah. It did.”

Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, everything else faded. The teasing friends, the chaotic weeks leading up to this night, even the music.

“You’re not half bad at this, Nott,” you teased, breaking the silence.

Theo smirked. “Neither are you. But don’t get used to me saying that.”

…

The Afterparty

The Yule Ball afterparty was an entirely different kind of chaos. Gone were the elegant decorations and formal airs of the Great Hall; now, it was all laughter, music, and a ridiculous amount of contraband firewhisky smuggled in by Mattheo and Blaise.

Theo leaned back against a sofa in the corner of the Slytherin common room, a half-empty glass in his hand. His tie was long gone, and his usually immaculate hair was a little mussed. He looked relaxed, but his gaze kept flickering toward you, who was sitting cross-legged on the carpet a few feet away, mid-laugh at something Pansy had said.

“Oi, Nott,” Mattheo nudged him, smirking. “If you stare any harder, you’ll set her on fire.”

Theo rolled his eyes, taking another sip from his glass. “I’m not staring.”

“Sure you’re not,” Blaise chimed in, lounging beside Mattheo. “You’ve only looked her way, what, twenty times in the past minute?”

Theo ignored them, but his focus sharpened as you stood and made your way over. You looked relaxed (for once), your silver dress now slightly wrinkled, hair falling loose around your shoulders. Your bare feet padded softly on the carpet as you stopped in front of him.

“You hiding over here, Nott?” you asked, holding a drink of your own.

“Not hiding,” Theo said, his voice smooth despite the alcohol. “Just enjoying the view.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head. “The view, huh? And what exactly are you looking at?”

Theo leaned forward slightly, his smirk lazily charming as he was under the effect of firewhiskey. “Take a guess.”

Your cheeks flushed faintly, but you weren't about to back down. “Careful, Theo. You’ve had enough to drink that your flirting might actually start to sound sincere.”

“Who says it isn’t?” he shot back, his gaze steady.

You laughed, sitting down next to him on the arm of his armchair. Theo reached out without thinking, his fingers brushing against your wrist to steady you as you leaned against the chair’s armrest. The touch lingered just a second too long, his thumb tracing a light circle before he let go.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” you said, voice softer now.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied, his grin widening. “But you don’t seem to mind.”

Before you could respond, Mattheo interjected, dropping onto the other armrest of Theo’s chair with an exaggerated groan. “Merlin, can you two just snog already and put us all out of our misery?”

Pansy, who had followed you over, raised her glass. “I second that. It’s exhausting watching you dance around each other.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed your amusement. “You’re all insufferable.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mattheo said, waving you off. “But we’re not wrong.”

“Go back to your firewhisky,” Theo muttered, shoving Mattheo off the armrest with more force than necessary.

As their friends dispersed again, you turned back to Theo, your expression softening. “You know, for someone who claims not to care about what people think, you’re surprisingly good at avoiding attention.”

Theo smirked, his voice quieter now. “I only care about the kind of attention that matters.”

You met his gaze, breath hitching slightly. “You’re really laying it on thick tonight, aren’t you?”

Theo’s smirk faded into something softer as he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered, warm against your cheek for a moment before he dropped his hand. “Maybe I am. But it’s the truth.”

For a moment, the noise of the party seemed to blur into the background, the laughter and music fading into something distant and unimportant. You tilted your head, smile soft and unreadable. “You’ve got a way of making things...complicated, Nott.”

Theo leaned in slightly, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “Complicated suits us, don’t you think?”

You exhaled a quiet laugh, eyes meeting his. “It’s exhausting.”

“But you’re not walking away,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

“Maybe I don’t want to,” you admitted, the drunken honesty in your tone catching you both off guard.

Theo’s smile softened, his fingers brushing against yours where they rested on the arm of the chair. He hesitated for a moment, then curled his hand around yours, his thumb grazing your knuckles in a way that felt both casual and deliberate.

“Well,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on yours, “for what it’s worth, I think we make complicated look pretty damn good.”

And as the night carried on, with laughter and light weaving through the air, they lounged together, two forces colliding yet somehow perfectly in sync, proving that even in the chaos, some things are meant to fall beautifully into place…for a drunken night at least…

Taglist: @lazycrazyme, @lovrsm, @minhlajenni, @rafeluvrr, @mgchaser, @r6yven

thank you so much for your comments it means the world to me!!

[omppupiiras]

I didn't watch UMK this year (I never do honestly), but watching bits of it now bc of Käärijä I wonder if I would have lost my mind over this man sooner if this is how I would've been introduced to him

[mv1simp]

Slow Down♥️

Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader (SocialMedia!AU)

I’m so down if you’re ready, I’ll show you if you let me, girl (she said fuck me like I’m famous, I said okay)

You and Max Verstappen are very well known in the media, for having one of the most volatile rivalries in the sporting world. But Ferrari’s Princess and Redbull’s Mad Max send shockwaves through the paddock when your PR teams confirm you’re officially dating. The public have a hard time believing it…until your sex tape gets leaked on Twitter a month later. Social Media!AU

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, trying my hand at a SM! AU for the first time!!, dom! Max and switch! Reader, size kink, sexism, max being a feminist king

Everyone always said there was a thin line between love and hate. Frankly, you find it to be sexist bullshit, rolling your eyes everytime some interviewer or your friends or trainer would make some sly comment about so what’s going on between you and Max, with a suggestive wiggle of their eyebrows. Nothing, just him trying to run me off the track repeatedly and giving me 4 bruised ribs in Singapore when he clipped me illegally, you say with an annoyed tone. You know that if you were a man, and not the first female driver in decades in F1, you wouldn’t be getting randomly shippedwith all the drivers. And for gods sake, Verstappen off all people was the most laughable idea. The man was either being a violent menace on the track or an immature twelve year old off it, you think vehemently. You two had stayed well out of each others way in your Haas seat last year, with you leading the mid pack in the suboptimal car but Max remaining well out of reach at the front of the pack. But this year, you’d earned yourself a Ferrari seat and were ecstatic to finally be able to compete for a WDC.

That was, until you and Max Verstappen suddenly started to keep getting caught in each others crosshairs. What started as polite indifference between two coworkers blew up into a PR frenzy, with you and Max completing for the top step in the podium every race weekend. He thought you a reckless driver, getting lucky in a rocket ship this year and trying to sink her claws into something she can’t handle. You thought him over arrogant, a man who couldn’t handle losing to a girl, his fragile ego unable to handle losing a 4th WDC to a Ferrari driver who was only in her second F1 season.

And then, two months out from the end of the season, everything changed between you and Max. On a night out in Monaco with your friends, celebrating being home from triple headers, you’d had the unfortunate experience of being cornered by some drunk, sexist creep who thought he was entitled to touch you. He’d been stronger than you expected, pinning you in a dark alleyway and you just when you starting to freak out, Max of all people practically threw the guy off you. He’d angrily spat at the drunk to pick on someone his own size or he’d break his jaw next time, before leading you to his car with a gentle hand. Normally, you found Max’s far larger frame to be annoying, another way for him to intimidate you when he glared downwards. But that night you couldn’t help but be grateful for the muscular, tall man and his attentive blue eyes as you willingly follow him with wide, doe eyes.

The ride home had been silent, you nervously clutching the large sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you from his backseat. And when you’d thanked him for his help, saying you appreciate him looking out for you even though he hated you, he looked at you with genuine surprise. I don’t hate you, he’d said. Well, I suppose we have had our differences on the track. You snickered at this, muttering that’s one way of putting it. Max chuckled, making you peer at him curiously as you’d never heard him do that in your presence. He was actually very handsome, you noted, without an angry scowl on his face or that Redbull helmet covering him. Then you tell your tipsy brain to shut up because where the hell had that thought suddenly come from?!

But really, I think you’re a pretty amazing girl off the track, Max continued. It must be hard being the only female driver, but you always have something good to say to the dumb interview questions you get. And I’m not going to stand by and let any woman be felt up by some creep. Even if it’s the Princess of Ferrari, he adds with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at this, stepping out of his car as you reach your apartment. And when you offer him his hoodie back, he tells you to keep it. You can use it to stay warm at the next race - it’s Brazil, very rainy. Did I mention I’m called the rainmaster, incidentally? You burst out laughing at his lack of subtlety, and he smiles at having distracted you, making the scared look in your pretty doe eyes from earlier disappear. Fuck off, Verstappen, you giggle, and for once your words have no real bite.

By the time your second F1 season is over, and you’re receiving your trophy for the world championship at the Prizegiving Gala, the first female to do so, you and Max Verstappen have became good friends. Maybe something more, from all the time you’ve started spending together off the track gaming, playing padel, and going out drinking. You were far too afraid to ever say something to him, knowing the media response to the first female driver dating a fellow driver would be absolutely brutal. Besides, you had no idea if Max remotely felt the same way about you - his type seemed to be pretty models, not aggressive drivers who spent half her time plotting his downfall.

You’re surprised when he finds you at the after party, late into the night, where everyone is too plastered to note that the fallen Redbull champion is taking the winning Ferrari Princess to a private level on the yacht. If you think I’m going to apologise for breaking your winning streak, you can try again, you announce dramatically as you grin at him, 5 drinks in and pink lips loosened, letting him know you were jesting. Wouldn’t have it any other way, Princess, Max hums, coming to stand so close to you that your heart rate quickens when you feel warmth radiating from the taller, muscular driver. Besides, I’ll be taking the cup next year, anyways. Enjoy the high while you can, he says in his Dutch accent, all cocky.

You let out an outraged gasp at this, forgetting how close you two already are as you step towards him, accusing hand pressed against his firm chest. But before you can say anything, Max’s gorgeous blue eyes drop down to where your manicured nails are touching his pecs. And then he looks down further, to where your plush tits have pressed up against his abs, your cute red corset minidress pushing your cleavage up temptingly. There’s no mistaking the dark desire that swirls in his intense gaze as he looks back into your wide doe eyes. And then he’s leaning in, finally, you think, and then your brain wakes up and you remember who’s in front of you. We can’t, Max, you say breathlessly, dazed by how attractive he looks when turned on. Why not, the Dutchman demands, cocky as usual. You don’t want this, Princess? His large hand brushed your jaw, tilting your face upwards when you try to look away. Your breath hitched from the contact, and you’re sure he can feel how fast your carotid pulse is beating. It’s-it’s not that I don’t want to, you say with a blush, making a pleased smirk appear on Max’s lips. But I’m the only female driver on the grid, the public would tear me apart if they found out I hooked up with another driver on the grid-

Fuck what anyone else thinks, Max says passionately, the familiar spark of defiance in his eyes. I know the fallout from something like this would be much harder for you as a woman than me, and I waited till after the championship fight finished. No one can contest you didn’t win the cup with your own sheer skill. But now that it’s finished, I can’t hold back anymore. Your jaw drops from Max’s heated confession, never having guessed the handsome blonde would reciprocate your buried romantic feelings. And I don’t mean some one night stand or summer fling, he continued boldly. I want to be your boyfriend, I want you all to myself properly.

You must have had too many G&Ts, you hear yourself say distantly, cause you’re not even a little bit cute and shy like you normally are off the track, Verstappen. He smiles gently, knowing you were using humour to deflect from the swirling emotions within you. Maybe, he murmurs, bending down to rest his forehead against yours. Or maybe you look so fucking gorgeous in this red dress I knew I couldn’t hide how I feel anymore. When he feels your hand graze his chest, pulling him just a bit closer, he knows what you want. Pressing the gentlest of kisses to your glossed lips, he pulls back to make sure you still wanted more.

But he didn’t need to have any doubts, because you’re staring up at him sultrily, desire having darkened your own wide, doe eyes. This time you’re pulling him back onto your lips, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders so that there’s not even a millimetre of space between you too. He groans against you as the months of tension come to a head, the two of you languidly exploring each others’ mouths with your tongues.

Even if you’d woken up the next morning regretting your decision, there was no way you could turn down Max’s offer of a relationship. Because even if you had still hated him, the sex that night on the yacht has been so incredibly mind blowing, by far the best orgasm you had ever experienced, that you knew you’d never meet anyone who could fuck you so perfectly again. So you hesitantly said yes, let’s try this for real, Max over a late hungover brunch the next morning. The rest had been history - the two of you had spent the last 7 months in a secret relationship, not wanting the chaos of the media to ruin your relationship before it could even start properly. Max has proven time and time again you’d made the right decision saying yes, being the perfect boyfriend, dedicated to all your needs and wants, spoiling you endlessly and making you laugh whenever you had a bad day.

Sometimes things were hard, of course. Like when you two had tensions during a race, your private relationship doing nothing to dampen the competitive spirit you both shared. But you’d both make up after, whether it be with a long debrief and strategy talk on how to avoid an incident next time - or your personal favourite, some angry make up sex. Like you’d suspected, Max was an absolute sex god and you two enjoyed a very healthy sex life, exploring each others kinky preferences. So when you’d have to be away from each other for long periods, busy with planning and meetings at your separate team bases, your boyfriend came up with a solution once the nudes and phone sex didn’t quite hit the same.

Filming yourselves during sex seemed like a certain recipe for disaster, given how famous the two of you are and the consequences of anything got leaked. But the temptation was too great as weeks drag on without the touch of your boyfriend - so you agreed, just this once, to try it out.

Well, that had certainly been the plan. But the video had been so so nice to watch again and again anytime your pussy ached for Max that you can’t resist making more. And then last month when your teams had finally given the okay for an official announcement on your relationship, and the media response had overall been surprisingly positive, you two get too comfortable and Max accidentally sent the video over DM to you, instead of the encrypted chat you normally use.

And that was when shit hit the fan.

No, Max, go away, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to see anyone ever again! The blonde Dutchman sighs he leans his head against the closed bathroom door with a worried expression on his face. You’ve locked yourself in his Monaco penthouse’s bathroom for the past 4 hours, not coming out despite how much he’s pleaded. Please, schatje, he tries again. I know it’s bad, but we’ll get through it together. Twitter had already banned any links of the video and both your PR teams are doing damage control and so many of the grid drivers and journalists were calling out the website that had leaked the tape. Please, I just want to see you, you can’t be locked in there forever and reading all the stuff online alone.

When you don’t reply, only sniffling through the door, he sighs again and slides down the door, making himself comfortable. A few minutes later he hears the door unlock and your red, crying face peeking through. Oh, schatje, he croons soothingly as you drop down into his arms and bury your face in his thick neck. He rubs soothing circles along your back as you sniffle that Everyone’s saying such horrible things, Maxie. How am I going to face going on the paddock ever again?

He reassures you firmly that you two would go hand in hand, united on the paddock with your heads held high, because you’ve done nothing wrong. He’d been doing the media game a lot longer than you and knew this scandal, like everything else, would get blown over with time. After your quiet sobs settle with his comforting words and tight hug, you pull back to look at him and apologise for shutting yourself away and not checking in on him. It’s your leaked tape too, you say anxiously. How are you feeling about it, baby?

He eases your concern again, telling you honestly that in the grand scheme of things, although it was a little mortifying he’s had worse in the media. Besides, it’s gonna be satisfying to crush whichever little fucker leaked the vid, he says vehemently. Any anyone who’s saying any bullshit sexist comments about you sleeping your way into F1 or anything is getting hit with a defamation lawsuit from legal, he declares, making your heart swell from his protectiveness. You still aren’t convinced, though. Are you sure, Max? I remember in that particular video, you can’t see much of my body but there’s definitely a lot of shots of your…

Dick? Your boyfriend finishes with a deadpan expression, That’s fine. Besides, I’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. You know the hashtag Verstappen’s third leg is trending on Twitter now? You giggle at his nonchalance, making Max smile at seeing you cheered up. You’ve finally having processed what happened enough to maybe see a bit of humour in it. True, I suppose it could have been worse, you muse. The Las Vegas video could have been the leaked one. Imagine how batshit the fans would have gotten if they saw the handcuffs were for you, not me. Max laughs genuinely, blue eyes looking fondly at your mischievous expression. The familiar Ferrari fire he adored was back in your own pretty doe eyes.

Or worse, the Barcelona one, you tease as you lead him to the kitchen to start making dinner. Scrolling through hundreds of posts and spiralling was calorie consuming work. I think Twitter would have shut down if they found out Max Verstappen likes being called daddy in the bedroom.

Your boyfriend’s face goes adorably pink as he stammers at your unexpected roast. Hey-hey now, schat, that was just one time okay? You’d just accidentally said it and it caught me off guard-

You grin playfully, giving him a kiss on the cheek because he looked too cute to resist. Sure, baby, so off guard you lasted 5 seconds after that. His face goes even pinker, reaching the tips of his ears now as he shyly looks away. For all his fierceness on the track, you loved how sweet the Dutch Lion was off it. Giggling, you put him out of his misery by handing him a knife and tell him to get to work chopping the tomatoes. You knew no matter what came your way, you would be fine with Max by your side.

—————————————————————————

A/N: okkk so what did u guys think at my first attempt at a social media AU ahaha. You know I love to yap I fear I included too many Twitter screenshots, I ALWAYS GET CARRIED AWAY. Anyway this was super fun pulled me right out of my writers block!!! Hope u enjoy xx

[museandwords]

we don't gotta be in love (bucky barnes)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, dubcon (reader is a bartering chip), arranged marriage, blood, implied age difference, virginity loss, wedding night, rough sex, Bucky is an animal, reader is Tony Stark’s daughter, alludes to Bucky beings powerful man of ambiguous design, alternate universe, breeding kink, big dick kink, Bucky is in love with her but she hates him, it’s not a fairy tale, it’s primal and it’s kind of messy.

Author’s note: this is just….pure filth, send me to jail, don’t tell my therapist.

continuation is right here

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

—

You, sweet, angelic, siren-like you. All wrapped up in a delicate lacy bra, a white ribbon in your hair, and your legs spread wide enough for Bucky to slot in between them.

Your glistening pussy was on full-display, tight and pink and soaked. Virginal and leaking slick as you lay there. You’re nervous, though you keep a brave face on as you present.

Your fiery eyes look up to meet his. You’re nervous and you’re scared. He's so big. His thick shaft dwarfs your folds as he rubs it along your seam.

You squirm, not sure what else to do. "Bucky…It's too big, it's not going to fit…" You whine at your new husband softly.

Bucky's gaze lingers on your delicate form, taking in the sight of his precious little Omega before him. He teases the tip of his thick member along your slick folds again and again, reveling in the way you quiver at the contact.

Your innocence and vulnerability only serve to stoke the primal desire within him. His intense blue eyes darken with hunger, your sweet scent of arousal enveloping him.

His large hand grips your chin firmly, tilting your head up to meet his gaze with eyes filled with determination.

"Shh, princess. Trust me," he growls softly, his voice a gravelly reassurance as his other hand snakes between your thighs, spreading your lips further to accommodate his size.

"You can take it, baby girl. You were made for me," he murmurs, the authoritative tone in his voice leaving no room for argument as he lines himself up with your entrance.

With a swift thrust, he enters you, the stretch causing you to gasp and tense against him. Bucky's restraint slips slightly at the sensation of your tight warmth surrounding him, but he reigns himself in, not wanting to overwhelm you. He holds still, allowing you to adjust to his size, his own need for you almost unbearable.

"See, you can take it," He reassures you, his hand moving up to cup your cheek tenderly as he begins to move, setting a steady pace that promises to fill you completely. He watches your reactions closely, his own control a thin veneer over his desire to claim you completely.

And just like that, Bucky made you his.

You should be afraid of this Alpha, this beast of a man who claims your virginity like he's entitled to it.

You want to hate him.

But how can you?

Your whole world is zoned in completely to where he's breaching you. He's so thick, his length seems to never end, and your back arches as you’re forced to take all of him.

It's like you can feel him in your stomach. You let out a high pitched whimper, and your thighs tighten around his waist.

As your eyes screw shut and you grip on his bicep for purchase.

Your virgin blood coats Bucky's cock, and it stains the white veil you still had on as he begins to fuck into you with a steady pace.

"I—…Bucky, I can't breathe…." You gasp, so genuine, soft and whimpery.

With your desperate plea for air, your voice tinged with a mix of fear and desire, Bucky's eyes bore into you, a glint of possessiveness shining through.

"You belong to me now, little wife," He growled, his voice husky and commanding, a mix of roughness and control.

Feeling your innocence and resistance only fueled Bucky's primal desires. He relished in the challenge, the conquest of your body like a prize waiting to be won.

As Bucky's relentless thrusting claimed you, your gasps, so pure and vulnerable, only served to fuel his aggression.

Bucky's grip tightened, his strength overpowering as he took what he wanted, his hips moving with a fierce determination. The room was consumed by the intoxicating scent of your arousal, mixing and mingling as your bodies became one.

Your eyes are screwed shut as you’re forced to take all of it again and again, the feeling of being so full is an adjustment, you hated how quickly you were coming to relish in it.

His arms come up to hook beneath the crease of your thighs and he begins to fold your body into a more submissive position. Your body curls and your eyes fly open, your glassy gaze meeting stormy blue as you can't help but let out a whiney moan from the sensation. The sight of you, vulnerable and yielding, stirs something within him, a hellish urge to devour, claim, push you to your limits as he delves deeper inside your velvety warmth.

You’re quick to realize whether you like it or not; you belong to him, for better or for worse. You go from a Stark girl to a Barnes wife. Tony Stark gave you to this beast of a man. And he takes it. Bucky takes all you have and consumes you.

Like an animal fucking for purpose rather than pleasure.

Your hand flies to the creaking mattress as you grip the sheets, your breasts bounce with each thrust and you begin to let out harsh pants that match each thrust in.

"Bucky…" You whine through gritted teeth as the pain begins to subside and the friction from the drag of his cock inside begins to feel good.

Bucky growls low in his throat as he moves within your eager, wet heat. The sound of your mingled pleasure filling the dimly lit room. His powerful thrusts are relentless. The scent of your arousal, sweet and heady, fills the space around you, driving Bucky wild with desire.

You want to hate this man. You want to hate him with all that you are because you were forced to marry him, to be his wife.

But the way he fucks into you has you confused, your brain more focused on how this Alpha takes your body so well, so dominantly and rough that it makes your pussy throb and your heart swell. It’s so ridiculous, so fucked up in your mind you can’t seem to bridge the gap.

With one particular thrust, Bucky's tip kisses your cervix, and you let out an involuntary scream from the sensation. Your manicured nails dig into the sheets, nearly shredding them as he picks up the intensity and drills harder into you.

You take it, you moan and you whine and you whimper and your tight warmth sucks his cock in, hungry for it now that you have it.

You’re overwhelmed from all the sensations, the way he's biting and sucking and licking your flesh, the way his pubic bone grinds against your clit and the way his cock stuffs you so perfectly that he rubs against your g-spot and cervix every time.

Tears begin to form in your eyes, a sign of your increased pleasure as your mouth falls open, Bucky forcing moans from your lips with each thrust in.

You know the purpose of this, you know what his instincts are telling him to do.

Reproduce. Claim. Mate.

"You're…trying….to get me pregnant…." You gasp out in realization as Bucky's hips slam into yours. You mewl, your body blossoming for him as he continues to drill into your tight wet heat.

Feeling you tighten around him, reacting to his every thrust, sent a dark thrill through him. It was as if something wild and feral prowled just beneath the surface of his skin, urging him to give in to his most basic alpha instincts.

He didn't speak, but his actions painted his intentions vividly.

You should fight, you should kick and punch and try to get this man off of you because you do not want his babies.

But your primal, baser brain won't allow you.

Because it's thriving off the Alpha presence, the possibility of pleasing your mate is more important.

The knot at the base of his cock began to swell, a signal of his impending release. As Bucky pushes his knot inside, your whole body tenses, and you begin to tremble as your pussy clenches impossibly tight around him. With a guttural growl, Bucky's body tensed, his hips stilling as he spilled his essence deep inside of you, each pulse of his release a sick twisted mark of ownership. You could feel the warmth spreading within you.

You let out a muted scream, and suddenly you’re shattering all over his cock.

Slick pools as you reach your climax, your walls constricting rhythmically around him as you grind your hips down — and involuntary action of pleasure as you ride it out. You can feel Bucky twitching inside of you, the swell of his knot keeping you locked together to ensure that they are in optimal condition to conceive, his need to give you a baby overriding any other thought in his mind.

You pant, your body is sweaty and weak as you finally begin to come down to earth.

You look at your Alpha, glowing eyes in the dark of night as you try to read him.

"Are you all calm now?" You ask, in a bratty tone.

Looking down at you, Bucky observed you with a mixture of possessiveness and satisfaction. He likes the challenge in your gaze.

Despite your bratty demeanor, Bucky found himself oddly pleased by your feistiness, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, my little wife, all calm now," Bucky drawled, his gravelly voice tinged with satisfaction.

[alastorss]

HIIII so i had an idea for like a reader that's crushing on alastor, and angel dust making jokes about it in front of alastor and basically what would happen once he catches on

Have a lovely day, get good sleep!!!<33 luv ur writing<33

a/n: hello sweets <3 thank you and i hope you like this!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor has watched you splash your martini all over Angel's face so many times this week, he's almost certain the star is provoking you on purpose just for a free drink.

In the short time he's come to know him, he's learned that if there's one thing Angel Dust is good at—besides looking pretty on film—it's that he can be absolutely shameless.

Alastor remembers, with a twinge of disgust, that the spider had once told him he came with built in reins. That comment kept him seething for hours.

And now, poor you, having fallen into the trap of his intricate web—the Radio Demon would be laughing if he didn't actually feel slightly bad for you. He knows what it's like to be on the receiving end of those comments, after all.

You, unlike your four-armed friend, have a capacity for shame the likes of which have never been seen before. All hot cheeks and wide eyes, lips pulled into a straight, thin line—embarrassment burns in every corner of your expression.

Though, that's probably why Angel has taken such a liking to teasing you.

Here he is again, crawling over the bar to get into your face as soon as Alastor appears in the room. His voice is low and melodic, so quiet the Overlord can't quite make out the words until—

"Look, hun. Your prince charming!"

Alastor raises a brow as he takes his seat next to you at the bar, setting down his newspaper.

"What was that?" He asks, eyes flickering between you and a coy-looking Angel Dust.

"Oh, nothin'. That right, sugar?"

You look nothing but utterly defeated, martini forgotten and abandoned. "Angel..." you mutter in warning. The spider only shrugs and gives you a toothy little grin.

"Hey Smiles," Angel suddenly grabs you by the cheeks and turns your face to look in Alastor's direction. You only blink at each other in surprise. "Cute, eh?"

You quickly smack his hand away from you, swivelling around to glare. "Quit it!"

Angel puts his hands up in mock surrender. He huffs, backing off. "Okay, okay! Fine! You two are unbelievable."

With that, he stalks off to bother Husk instead. You sigh in relief, head hitting the bar counter. For a moment, you completely forget that Alastor is still sitting beside you.

"Care to explain?"

He watches as you nearly jolt out of your skin, amused at how flustered you are from a little teasing. It's rather cute.

"It's nothing!" You sputter, waving your arms around in panic.

But you can't fool Alastor. Not anymore.

It hadn't clicked before—that perhaps there was some merit behind Angel Dust's words. He had gotten so used to empty threats of sexual advances that he had ruled out the possibility that the star was being a little serious for once.

He wasn't exactly subtle, always jumping on the opportunity to make your cheeks burn whenever the Radio Demon was around.

"It didn't sound like nothing," he sings, leaning in closer to you so he can gauge your reaction.

As expected, you nearly leap away from him when he suddenly invades your personal space. He snickers.

"Not you too..." you groan.

"Why, I didn't know you had such a crush on me, darling~"

"You're the worst."

"Ah, and I suppose that's why our dear friend has been teasing you about me all this time? Because I'm the worst, and you hate me?"

He's getting entirely too close. His face is nearly touching yours.

You stare at him in bewilderment, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, you manage to stammer out a weak retort.

"You should butt out of other people's business."

"It sounds like it's about to be my business, dear. You know, if you liked me so much, you could have just told me instead of Angel Dust."

"I preferred it when you were just a regular asshole, and not a cocky one!"

"Oh, how you wound me~"

"Shut up!"

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda

[mickyschumacher]

hi!! could u an oscar smut wherein he's fooling with reader, making her supress her moans bcs the walls are thin, but in reality, they were soundproof (like his drivers room post-rough race for ex.) thank uuu

𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: silverstone 2024 was a tough one for oscar. he needs a bit of relieving... some reassurance if you will.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), mentions of silverstone 2024 if you couldn't tell, kissing, blowjob, technically unprotected even though it's not oral sex, pussy rubbing (?), fluff, insecure oscar :(

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x girlfriend!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k

𝐀/𝐍: ugh loved doing this request! kinda took a bit of creative liberty but i hope you enjoyed it either way♡︎ // as usual, poorly proofread

𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Oscar hated Silverstone with a fucking passion.

He must say, it was a newfound passion but the enthusiasm he had for it was unparalleled.

He could've won.

His first Grand Prix. His team's home race. It would've been perfect.

But in the end, his pure loyalty and reliance on McLaren let him down. He should've boxed. Fuck, he knew that. Why didn't he just say it?

Oscar couldn't help but give tight smiles to his staff as he ventured towards his room, completely over the briefing they just had. He wasn't in the mood to play nice. Kim Needle, his trainer, was hot on his trail.

Abruptly, he stopped in between the papaya and black corridor, turning to meet the surprised face of his trainer. "Kim, listen, I just need some time alone... if that's alright," Oscar asked timidly, not wanting to be an asshole entirely.

Kim pursed his lips and nodded. "Whatever you need, mate. Just come out when you're done, okay? We'll get through this one."

Oscar nodded in response, giving him a thankful smile before continuing on. Upon opening the door, he couldn't be more relieved at the sight of you worriedly sitting on the small black couch.

"Osc," you said softly, standing up from the couch with a pained smile.

The driver simply returned the gesture, closing the door behind him. He eyed your open arms, laughing internally before welcoming the warm hug.

Oscar bit his lip, trying to prevent the string of sighs coming out but the soothing rubs of your hand on his back made it difficult. He could hear your muffled sorry, apologising for the rough day.

His hands around your waist tightened. "I... fuck, I should've done better," he admitted.

Your eyes widened, immediately pulling away from the comforting embrace, letting his hands still rest on your waist. You held his warm, tired face in your hands, sternly meeting his brown eyes. You could feel Oscar relax in your grasp. "Hey, no, no. Don't do that. You did so well, baby. Just give it some time, hmm? I know it was a shitty move but it's the first time in a while McLaren's had such a fast car–a winning car. No one's going to get this right immediately."

Oscar searched your eyes, feeling your fingers trace the etched in lines of his racing gear across his face. He never knew how you did it. And by 'it,' he meant the way you consoled people. He was secretly jealous of it. How did you always know the right thing to say? God, it was almost as infuriating as it was admirable.

You were worried Oscar had gone down a horrible spiral of some sorts with his unresponsive expression. But much to your surprise, your lips had found an answer before you could even think of one.

Your arms fell to his shoulders, hands hanging around his neck. Oscar's lips, often familiar, were lost in a more passionate haze, pulling you in closer towards him.

You think you were struggling to breathe. You weren't quite sure. You could hear strained breathing. Whether it was you or Oscar was a mystery. There was one thing you were certain of, however. The burning sensation travelling up your spine as his fingers grazed your bare hot skin under your shirt.

You gasped at the coldness of his touch, allowing Oscar to kiss you deeper, accessing your mouth fully with his tongue. A small moan travelled to your ears as your hands reached those brown locks.

You rasped Oscar's name, trying to pull away for some air but it was as if some ravenous monster had captured your boyfriend. Your neck tingled with feel of his lips pressing sloppy kisses down the base, hot breath sending goosebumps up your skin.

"Oscar," you said again, this time covering his lips with your hand. You watched as his lust-ridden eyes flickered to yours, both of your chests heaving desperately for air. You could tell he was wondering why you were stopping him, especially when you were enjoying it so much. "We'll get caught."

Oscar wanted laugh internally. While it may have been your first time trying something out in his driver's room, Oscar had spent one time too many with his hands on his cock, cumming to your name. He knew they were soundproof. God forbid, someone heard private matters or him screaming out of frustration on a bad race.

But you didn't need to know that.

"Guess you'll have to be quiet then. Can you do that for me, baby?"

You blinked blankly, throat dry all of sudden. Without a word, you nodded. Your knees almost buckled at the sinister grin on Oscar's face as he took you by the hand and sat you onto his lap.

Oscar looked up at you, smiling softly while tucking your hair behind your ears. "You look so pretty," he murmured, hands brushing your body ever so slightly. "All for me?"

"All for you," you whispered, pressing your lips onto his neck.

Oscar's head fell back and his eyes closed as you took your sweet time attacking his neck. Your kisses were soft, resisting the urge to mark his neck. All the words Oscar had learned in all his years of living were coiled at his throat. He could never think straight when you glided your lips across his Adam's apple. Nor when he could feel you nestled into his laps, creating bigger problems than he imagined.

You could feel his muscles tense as your hand slid down his shirt, stopping right at his v-line. Oscar opened his eyes, looking at the spot where your hand paused and thighs straddled him. He sucked in a sharp breath, looking at you with a pleading gaze.

You smiled. Under different circumstances, you would tease him. But you couldn't afford to tease. You didn't have the time to. Your hands crept to the waistband of his jeans, pulling down the material along with his boxers.

Oscar let out a low exhale at the feel of cold air brushing his semi-hard cock. He swallowed the saliva that had built up in his mouth as you sunk to your knees, hand gently grazing the tip of his cock. "Oh fuck," he hissed, eagerly watching you open your mouth to let strings of warm saliva drop onto his cock, hand wrapping around to rub the lube up and down his shaft.

Your tongue swiped the bottom of your lip before pressing a small kiss to his tongue, feeling Oscar's cock twitch in anticipation. Your mouth opened, lips stretching as you hollowed your throat, taking in his cock.

A quiet groan slipped out of Oscar's mouth upon the feel of your warmth spreading around his cock, almost disappearing into your mouth. He couldn't tell what was worse. The way your mouth felt or the way you looked up at him with those eyes.

Oscar's hand travelled to the back of your neck, gathering all your hair in one hand before twirling it around to tighten his grip. He sighed as you opened your throat up further, allowing him to guide his cock. "Such a good girl," he praised.

Your thighs clenched at the praise, holding back your moan. You could feel your head begin to move as he pushed his cock down your throat. You relaxed your cheeks and mouth, taking as much of him as you could.

Oscar averted his eyes from your mouth to your face. God you were just so pretty. Your big glassy eyes, skin flushed with traces of sweat, lips red, soft, and puffy while your fragrance lulled him.

A jolt was elicited out of Oscar's body upon the feel of your hands travelling towards his balls, taking the time to rub them gently as the pace of your mouth began to speed up.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, muscles tensing while the tingling feeling at the pit of his stomach began to bubble. Reluctantly, no matter how insane you were driving him, Oscar pulled you away, heavily breathing. "I need you," he immediately said.

Without too much thinking, you were standing and undoing your own pants, letting Oscar partially pass away as the sight of your wet panties.

Instinctively, Oscar's hands reached for your waist, thumb moving to graze your covered wet folds, satisfied at the jerk of your body as he brushed your clit. He reached to grab his cock before he felt your hand on his wrist.

"Oscar," you called urgently.

"What?" He almost said painfully, knowing very well that you knew he had put off his own climax.

You winced, almost apologetic to what you were about to say. "We don't have a condom."

Oscar blinked at your words, head slumping down. Fuck. Of course... of course you didn't. As much as he loved children and especially if they were with you, he didn't have any idea of them any time soon.

But he did have a better idea.

Oscar snapped his head back up, standing up to lie you down on the couch.

"Osc, what are you–"

"Trust me, this is going to sound stupid and I'm going to feel thirteen all over again, but just trust me."

Before you could respond, you could see Oscar hovering over you with the greediest desperation. You took a sharp breath as he pulled your underwear to the side and hooked his cock underneath, flushed against your folds.

Slowly, rather than pushing into you, he rubbed his cock between your folds, letting the tip of his cock skim your clit.

"Oh fu–" you quickly covered your mouth, moaning into your forearm, teeth biting down on your lip as you remembered those thin walls.

Oscar knew exactly how you felt. It was stupid and almost childish to do but the feeling of his cock against your folds, bordering going in, receiving the vibrations of your convulsing body as he circled your clit drove him to depths of insanity he never knew he had.

He moved to remove your arm, hearing your refusal as he thrust his hips against you. "Let me hear you, baby. It doesn't matter."

You didn't understand what he meant but you couldn't do anything but fall apart, almost weeping at the way his cock felt against your pussy.

"Fuck," you sobbed out, own hips bucking faster as you chased your climax. It was hard, coming in waves while Oscar drove you higher with his thumb on your clit, moving ever so slowly.

"That's it, come on," Oscar cajoled, letting you ride out your high as he restrained himself from cumming right there and then. As much was he wanted to, he really couldn't.

He called your name, bringing you back to reality with his own desperation. You smiled sweetly, opening your mouth as Oscar's hand wrapped around his cock, moving up and down his shaft with an urgent speed.

You could hear the loud rasp of Oscar's while his hips stuttered, spilling his warm cum into your mouth. Without wasting a second, his hands travelled to your face and brought your lips to his, tasting himself on his tongue.

"Well done," Oscar said, "I'm proud of you." He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your lips as he brought you into a hug.

"Hey! That was my line," you complained, narrowing your eyes playfully making him laugh quietly to himself.

"Thank you though. For making me feel better. Before and well, this," he whispered with a wide smile.

You pursed your lips. "Anything for you, Osc. Just don't think about it too much, okay? I always worry what goes on in that sweet little head of yours."

Oscar laughed again, reaching over to grab your pants. He watched you put a leg into them before you paused, making him raise a brow.

"I thought you said the walls were–"

"Uh, uh," Oscar cut off, gesturing for the second leg of your pants. "Just don't think about it too much," he repeated with a cheeky grin.

You gaped, suddenly clicking two and two together. "Oscar! You little shit!"

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[vivgst]

OBSSESED!Valeria

Valeria loves control, it makes her feel calm. It's like a warm blanket on a very cold day, it gives her comfort.

Her personal relationships are about control, not love, at least that's how it was with Alejandro, he loved her much more than she loved him and it was fine with her because that's how it should be.

Even after betraying the army and positioning as the leader of the Las Almas cartel, she continued to adore the idea that she had left her poor lover behind, she spent nights imagining how much Alejandro must miss sleeping next to her and that made her smile.

Until she found out that Alejandro had a new partner and you were quite different from her, you were younger and you always wore all that makeup, you looked weak and she hated you as soon as she knew about you.

Valeria was not in love with Alejandro but she enjoyed knowing that he had not been able to get over her and him being with someone else meant that things had changed.

What did he even see in you?

She didn't know and she became so obsessed with finding the answer that she couldn't stop stalking you. She did it all the time and knew everything about you, Valeria had photos and folders full of information about you, she knew that you went every Tuesday afternoon to have a coffee at the mall, that your work hours had decreased since you were with Alejandro and that on Thursdays you went out with your friends.

After a while of watching your every move the line between hate and desire became so thin that she found herself unable to discern if what she now felt for you had escalated into something completely different than what it used to be.

It became even more difficult when her own mind began to work against her and suddenly she found herself awake although she could have sworn she had fallen asleep minutes ago, but there she was, panting restlessly as she felt – felt you – move, riding her slowly while your hands squeezed her breasts, Valeria felt suffocated, each movement of your hips buried that double-end toy deeper inside her, you looked at her mockingly while she writhed with pleasure and drops of sweat fell all over your body that was numb from all the things you were feeling.

She wanted to regain some control, to push you away from her but like every dream, she didn't have much power to free herself or exercise the free will she had when she was awake so her hands tightened on your hips in a poor attempt to stop your movements, that only served as an incentive for you to start moving faster, your skin slapping against Valeria’s.

You leaned on your forearms to bring your lips closer to hers as you moaned and slowed the movement of your hips once more, the toy was rubbing against her g-spot and Valeria let out a hiss as she tightened her thighs.

She wasn't going to come from having you on top of her riding her, she didn't care how good she felt or how turned on she got just from seeing your breasts bounce every time you jumped on top of her.

However, you had other plans.

You trailed wet kisses from her jaw to her neck and up to her earlobe, nibbling on it gently, Valeria shuddered but did her best to keep fucking quiet.

“Are you shy now?” You spoke hoarsely and she growled, her hands gripping your hips so tight that your skin burned but even that felt good. “No matter how much you try to hide it, you're just as soaked as I am.” You whispered against her ear and pulled away from her to look into her eyes, both of you were panting and the room that Valeria normally hated for being cold was now so hot it was barely bearable.

“How much of a slut you- fuck...” She breathed out and there was real hate behind all the lust in her gaze, she hated you and she hated the way you were making her melt, how much she was loving every touch, every feeling and well… how much she wanted you to keep doing it just like that, driving her crazy while you rode her, she loved it.

And you were so close to making her come, but the universe was against you that night and Valeria woke up gasping, looking everywhere even though she knew very well that you weren't there.

Her body was just too hot and sweat wasn't the only thing that had the bed wet, it was uncomfortable so she got out of bed and went into the bathroom, taking off her clothes and getting into the shower which was cold.

Her body kept shivering and no matter how cold the water was, the heat in the middle of her legs didn't go away. She wanted to put her hand between her thighs and make herself come, she needed it but no, she would cut her hand before doing such nonsense for you, the shower would calm her down.

But it didn't calm her down, nothing did. The days went on and her mind kept coming back to you, wishing that dream came true even though she hated to admit it.

Valeria remembered it so vividly... now she couldn't stop stalking you even though deep down she knew that nothing would happen between you two.

At least that was what Valeria thought, she could know a lot things but she was oblivious to the fact that Alejandro was a tool for you, a toy. She was also oblivious to the fact that all your plans took shape when you started to feel watched.

Finally she had noticed you.

[anyydidi]

Okay, I might be crazy, or someone might have already pointed it out (after all, I am sighs a new fan), but hear me out on this.

Am I the only one who kinda compares the relationship between Gideon and Mabel to Billford?

I feel like they are the easiest way to show that you can agree that Billford is indeed canon, while still acknowledging all the terrible things Bill has done to Ford.

To be completely honest, my focus is more on the similarities between Gideon and Bill, than Mabel and Ford. I'm sure I could find some, but let's focus on the two that are more prominent.

Gideon is the perfect example when you want to point out that Bill has "loved" (in quotes, since people like Bill or Gideon (till Weirdmaggedon) aren't capable of real love) Ford even through all he has done to him in the past and in the present.

We know that since the introduction of Gideon, he had this incredible obsession with Mabel. Instantly he wanted her to be his and would go to great lengths to get her. He wasn't afraid to lie and manipulate. He wasn't afraid to hurt her through her own brother. When he didn't, in fact, get her for himself, he turned on her and her entire family. Now, his obsession stayed persistent. He still claimed to love her, even though he was ready and literally planning to rid her of her home and family. He prioritised his own selfish goals in obtaining the Mystery Shack and power, than her, well, welfare. He also wasn't opposed to physically hurting her on multiple occasions. Yes, he did always give her a chance to join him by his side, but the second she refused, he'd try to hurt her, or worse, just straight up kill her alongside her family. Remind you of someone?

The point I'm trying to make is that, while Billford is on a whole another level, these two relationships are kind of similiar. Dare I say parallels? I don't know.

The differences are that Mabel has never fallen for Gideon's flattery and did not take his bullshit, while Ford obviously has fallen and taken Bill's. Gideon at the end did switch up and redeem himself by finally seeing love for what it truly is and put Mabel over his own selfish wants, while Bill stayed on his path and was more content to torture Ford than give up his centuries-old plan to dominate the universe.

Bill might have adored in the past, probably still adored Ford in some way till his death, even though he was incredibly abusive towards him. The line between love and hate is incredibly thin, and can get mixed up on multiple occasions. Gideon hurt Mabel, while still claiming that he loved her and Bill probably did the same with Ford. For Bill, Ford was a plaything, a pet. But children can still care for their playthings and owners can care for their pets, while throwing them away in the end when they cross their path. Bill had tried to keep Ford by his side, but alas, Ford truly did not want his world to become a playground for an interdimensional being, so he crossed Bill's path. Bill had his priorities sorted, and his number one spot was taken by his dreams of domination, so he threw Ford away, which might have hurt a little (maybe even a lot, who knows), but he was still a meaning to an end.

So, this is my surprisingly long rant on how the people who claim that there is no way that Bill and Ford might have had something more intimate going on in the past, when Bill has hurt and wronged Ford on multiple occasions, do NOT understand toxic love!! And I am showing that through a strange relationship between children!

[gtgbabie0]

{James trying his best to study while you distract him}

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“Knock it off” James tries so hard to be serious meekly pushing your shoulder, you watch with a teasing smirk as the crease between his brows wobbles and a small chuckle escapes his supple lips, that he tries so hard to press into a thin line to show how ‘unimpressed’ he his, and he hates to admit it but you’ve got him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

James could never truly be mad at you, you’re his everything and he tells you so about ten thousand times a day, so he doesn’t mind much when you press ticklish kisses against his jaw and to that sensitive part just behind his ear, while he’s trying to study, his books splayed across your bed and he pretends to more interested in them than you.

He always gets this fleeting feeling in his chest whenever he’s around you and it flutters to his stomach leaving him all giddy inside, you drive him mad in the best way possible.

Especially when your gentle fingers play with the curly ends of his hair that sit against his neck, the way your cold knuckles graze against his warm skin, he thinks he just might end up going insane.

You giggle watching as he not so sneakily glances at you, a small smile dances on his lips, and you know he can’t keep his composure for long, “James… James, give me attention” you whisper in his ear as you continue press kisses along his jaw while your gentle fingers still twirl through his hair, with the hope that he might just put away the scattered books and paper tonight.

He wants to be stubborn, he wants to regain some kind of control over himself when it comes to you, but how can he? When you smell like home and your comforting warmth is radiating from you inviting him like a Sirens melody.

"I'll kick you out" he threatens, as you blow cold air against his ear with a giggle, while he scribbles notes down on some paper.

"It's my room, love" you remind him, your head resting against his shoulder

"That won't stop me from locking you out, Love" he smiles as you let out a huff and he thinks he's finally won, that you might have gotten bored, but he's proven otherwise.

Your hands playfully tug at the hem of his sweater nimble fingers dipping under the soft weaved fabric as they gently traverse his lower abdomen, and you feel his muscles tense under your teasing touch as he lets out a breathy giggle that borders on a gasp and you relish in the soft sound.

“Oh!— alright, enough you win, you win” he smiles picking up the old tattered books on transfiguration and chucking them carelessly, you gasp watching them skid across the old wooden floor.

“What did the poor books do to you?” You giggle as he scoffs at you, his hands pull you into his lap and your heart feels so full and loved as his gentle fingers trace mindless patterns on the top of your thighs, and you lean to press a small kiss to the tip of his nose.

his hands settle against your hips, "If I fail I'm blaming you" he says, chuckling as you feign offense with an overdramatic shocked expression.

“Not my fault you're so pretty James” you whisper, hands cupping his warm cheeks, and pride blooms in your chest at the redness that tints his cheeks, "Just completely and utterly irresistible"

He’s a blushing mess and uncontrollable toothy grin splays across his face, his lips wobble as he tries to stop it, and it makes you giggle, “Well... I got nothing on you Angel” he admits with a wink and you roll your eyes at his comment leaning down to capture his soft red lips in a loving kiss that leaves him breathless, and he never wants to let you go.

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☾⋆AN// *BOOM* I wrote this instead of my essay, hope you enjoyed lovelies! <3 {{requests are open!}}

[amyelevenn]

the knife cuts both ways

PAIRING; Max Verstappen x driver!reader

SUMMARY; a pre-race argument between you and Max has harsher consequences than either of you were anticipating.

WARNINGS; talks of a car accident, somewhat graphic descriptions of the aftermath. angst no comfort

A/N; yes this is the cliche reader gets into an accident after an argument but I couldn't help myself, it's a canon event okay!

1.2k words masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

Max’s words just replayed in your mind, over and over and over and over, with no sign of ever running themselves thin.

“Your legacy will never live up to mine. I’m sorry I’m the better driver. You aren’t even in competition with me!”

You were sure he had said more, but you had tuned out what he was saying in hopes of having something left to salvage.

Picking at your lip to distract yourself proved ineffective – it had started bleeding, and you were still unable to take your mind off of it all. It didn’t help that you hadn’t even bothered to speak to him, or even go near his vicinity, after the matter. It did however help having motorhomes on complete opposite ends of the paddock, being able to easily navigate away from him and his team. You were still way too mad, needing much more than a few hours to cool off from the heat of the argument.

It would have to wait until the end of the race, at the least. If not, until the pair of you had flown home together, away from the prying eyes and ears of the paparazzi and fans alike. You weren’t even public with each other, so you were sure the media would have a field day with the current championship leader being in a screaming match with his only female colleague.

You hated how easily a small part of you wanted to give in to him, to just let it all breeze over just to be in his arms again, despite the horrible things that came out of his mouth.

If it wasn’t him, it would have been someone else, you try to rationalize. Everyone was thinking it, he was just the one who had the guts to verbalize it. But a small, minuscule part of you will always know that someone who loved you would never speak of you like that; no one who had any ounce of regard for your emotions would treat you the way he did.

But it was the fact that he chose to single out you.It was you who isn’t in competition with him. Not your team, or your car, you. Your legacy who would never live up to his, the 3-time world champion.

The whole of that Saturday night and Sunday morning had gone by in a blur. You weren’t even sure how you got in your car, fully equipped and watching the red lights go out as the race began.

Of course he would ruin the race that you’d be starting the highest you had before. In fact, that was the basis of your whole argument; you being proud of making it to Q3 and placing P8, but him complaining about barely making pole.

It was a massive achievement for you and your team – points weren’t something you exactly walked by every day, and you had the opportunity to score big here. But something about the importance of this race for you didn’t comprehend in Max’s mind.

The first couple laps went by smoothly, taking a couple overtakes under you belt, lined up in a solid P5. You see a Red Bull in your mirror, and before you can even ask, a voice in your ear informs you of “Perez, 1.1 behind.”

Weaving in and out of the chicanes, you get constant updates of the rocket slowing inching closer and closer to you, until you are hit with “Perez, 0.8 behind with DRS. Need you to push here.”

You were a good driver. A good team player, who followed the orders you were given to a T. so how you ended up snagging the back of the Red Bull as he overtook you was beyond you.

“Holy shit!”

That’s all you could say right before you black out; not something prophetic or memorable, but a base utterance steeped in a casual strain of effort to recentre the car. In the fleeting seconds that the words take form and flight, your brain cycles through a million images, memories plastered on a spinning reel. The blur of your life becomes a recognizable whole. You have always been your worst enemy and saviour.

Hurtling towards the concrete barrier, your brakes fail. You pray to deity above that you don’t even believe in for some kind of salvation; to make it out of this burning wreckage alive.

Your vision disappears for what feels like a millisecond, but there is too much chaos in too little time to be able to determine just how long it was. Your hearing was obliterated, the silence deafening and all consuming, forcing you into battling the line between consciousness and unconsciousness. You couldn’t move, even when you tried your very hardest – no amount of adrenaline would be able to push your paralyzed limbs enough to climb out of the crumpled mess once known as your car.

A hand frantically tapping on your helmet was the only way you knew you had survived; that there was still some life inside you, persevering in a time of desperation. You still had some feeling, which was a good sign.

But that was the breaking point, pushing you over the edge and taking Death’s hand.

Max couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A red flag, around turn 1. He was just there, so it would’ve had to have been someone close behind him. He slows around the last couple corners, the rest of the grid trailing behind.

“Are they okay?” he asks, as if it was some routine he had to follow rather than someone’s safety at stake. The lack of response he receives snaps him out of his clinical nature, even sparking a small bit of fear at losing a friend.

“Who is it, GP?”

“Get the car back to the garage, then we will talk.”

If that didn’t set Max’s nerves of fire, nothing else would.

He doesn’t reckon he has ever gotten out of his car quicker, fast to rip of his helmet to get a better view of the track marshals hailing over the ambulance. Their blaring sirens could be heard from the pitlane, a sound that sent a collective chill down everyone’s spines.

Perez was the one to tell him that it was your car. he was telling the crew how you clipped his back tire, but his car seemed to not have any damage. You had taken the brunt of the collision, if you could even call it that.

It was almost as if Max could feel the blood drain from his face at the mention of your name. Hearing it out loud confirmed his biggest nightmare – you were out there, hurt and surrounded by strangers thinking that he hated you.

He wanted to throw up, feeling beyond sick to his stomach at the thought of losing you before he had the chance to reconcile with you. He couldn’t afford to not have you by his side – even though you were private, you were his person – the love of his life, who he was watching die in front of his eyes.

How had he managed to get himself in this situation?

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

as always, feedback is appreciated!

[vodika-vibes]

Enemies to Loves?? Character doesn't matter I just need my Enemies to lovers fill for my fourth wing hangover

Thin Line

Summary: After the rise of the Empire, you, an unwilling Soldier of the GAR, is reassigned to being Crosshair's handler. You hate him, and you think he hates you. Turns out there's a very thin line between hate and love.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 2272

Warnings: Reader has a toxic family

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So I was going to do one of the many event requests that I got, but I got it with inspiration for this, and I love Crosshair, so...ta-dah~

You never wanted to join the military.

You were always a bit too…soft for military life. A bit too quick to tears, a bit too sensitive, not quite forceful enough in your everyday life.

You wanted to be an author, or a teacher, or maybe both. The last thing you wanted was to join the military.

But your parents pushed. And pushed. And pushed.

And you’ve never been very good at telling them no. It’s just easier to do what they want. And they wanted you to continue the family tradition of military service.

So you did. You gave up your dreams, as small as they were, to make your family happy. That’s what family is supposed to do, right?

To be fair, you thought that you were going to get kicked out within six months. You’re really, really not made for this lifestyle. And you probably should have been, but your father was an Admiral and your mother was a Doctor at the most prestigious military hospital in the galaxy, and your older siblings were incredibly high ranked in their respective branches…and you just weren’t.

And then the GAR was dissolved and remade into the Imperial Army, and you thought, now. Now for sure they’ll have to discharge me. 

But still, still they kept you. And, much to your blanket distress, it turns out that you're more competent than most of the people you work with. 

Which is exactly how you ended up in your current situation.

The first couple of months after the Imperial Army took the place of the GAR were hectic, but as things settled, you found yourself getting reassigned. You are now, officially, Crosshair’s handler.

It’s quite possibly the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Are you incapable of following orders?” You ask the much taller man standing across from you, his arms are folded across his chest and he has a smug smirk on his face.

“Not so good at following orders, sweetheart.”

“Then maybe I should trade you in for someone who is,” You counter.

“You won’t. No one is as good as I am.” Crosshair is the best sniper in the Imperial army, and he knows it, damn him.

“You’re an arrogant asshole,” You say pointedly, and his smirk widens, “Fine. You did, somehow, manage to complete your mission. So, well done, I guess. But you’re stinking up my office, so get out.”

He just leans against the doorframe, “My hot water rations.”

You exhale slowly through your nose, “Crosshair, have I ever limited the amount of hot water you can use in the showers?”

“I’m just waiting for you to actually turn into as much of an asshole as you like to pretend to be, sweetheart.”

“Get.”

And then he’s gone, allowing the door to slam shut behind him. How, exactly, he managed to slam a sliding door is beyond you, but you don’t care enough to try and figure it out.

You’re pretty sure you hate him. From the top of his silver head to the tips of his toes.

He’s arrogant and pig-headed, and somehow managed to turn something that was a traditional sweet pet name into an insult. And he seems to take joy out of making your life more miserable, which is something of an achievement in and of itself. 

But, even so, you would never replace him with someone else.

Because he actually is as good as he thinks he is. And he does complete every mission that you assign him, and there’s never an excessive loss of life, which you appreciate. 

You push your fingers through your hair, and flicker your gaze across the piles of paperwork covering your desk, and then you sigh. 

You really should have told your parents to kriff off all those years ago, and just gone to school to be a teacher.

Still, if wishes were fishes-

You sigh deeply, and pull your hair out of the strict bun to pull it into a looser tail at the base of your head, and then reach for the tallest pile of paperwork that needs to be finished. 

And then your holo chirps that there’s an incoming call.

You glance at your datapad, and check the number that’s calling in, and then you groan when you see the very familiar number flashing at the top of the screen.

Your Dadmiral is calling.

You sigh one more time, and then press the button on your datapad to answer the call.

“Hi dad,” You say, flickering your gaze to the holo for a split moment, before focusing back on your paperwork.

“Hey kiddo,” Your father is an older man, with hair that’s long since gone gray and a beer belly that he’d have to work at to get rid of. You also know, though you can’t see it through the holo, that his nose is reddened by years of alcohol abuse. “Your hair isn’t in regulation, kid.”

“Ah, so you’re calling as my admiral rather than my dad. Good to know.” You reply tiredly, “What do you need, sir?”

He gazes at you severely, and then sighs, “I need to talk to you about the Dantooine mission.”

You lift your gaze, “Dantooine? That was four months ago.”

“Yes, I know.”

You sigh and open your desk to grab the file he’s talking about, “I know I filled out my paperwork properly-”

“Yes, you’ve always been very diligent about that. But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.” He shifts so that he’s standing at attention, “It has come to my attention that your sniper only killed the men on the list.”

“...yes?”

“Why did he not kill the other members of the cell?”

“...because they weren’t on the list of people to kill.” You reply flatly, “He followed the orders he was given to the letter.”

Your father sighs, “I recognize that. But I hoped that you realized that what the orders meant was that he was supposed to kill all of them.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Hm…I’ll make sure that your orders are more clear from now on.” Your father says, “Now…how are you?”

“Tired. And busy. So if there’s nothing else-?”

“Ah, yes. Right. Well then, I’ll talk to you later.” The call disconnects and you sigh again. If Crosshair knew just how much shit you had to deal with to keep him safe and alive…

Well, he’d likely never believe you. 

No matter. You’ll keep doing what you’re doing because it’s the right thing to do. Not because you like him or anything.

Life continues for you as it always has.

You move from planet to planet, chasing these terrorists. You give Crosshair a list of people he needs to kill, and then you fill out paperwork and move on.

He’s still a dick to you, and you tolerate everything as best as you can.

Still, every now and then, something different happens. 

Today, for example, you have a date. 

A slightly older soldier asked you out to dinner, and honestly, you need to get out and do something before you rip your hair out, or have a nervous breakdown.

So here you are, dressed in a casual dress and some nice-ish heels with your hair loose for the first time in ages, when the door to your office slides open, “Hey, so-” Crosshair stops mid sentence as he steps into your office, and then he smirks and whistles, “Well now, I didn’t know you were actually a woman under that uniform.”

“You’re a pig, and also, don’t you knock?”

“Guilty, and no.” His gaze drags down your body, an almost lecherous grin on his face, “Where are you going looking so dressed up?”

“If you must know,” You reply with a pointed glare, “I have a date.”

“You?”

You glower at him, “Believe it or not, there are people out there who want to spend time with me.”

“With you, or with your family,” Crosshair asks, smirking as you bristle under his comment, “Sheathe your claws, kitten, I happen to think you look nice.”

“You insult me and then compliment me in the same sentence. Stars, you’re so annoying.” You grumble, “What do you need Crosshair?”

He, openly, drags his gaze down your body again, “Nothing. Just wanted to annoy you, and it worked.”

You exhale sharply, “Wow, I think I actually hate you.”

“Yeah, but you’re far too nice to actually get rid of me unlike some of the other Imps.” Crosshair grins at you, and then spins and he’s gone. 

You take a deep breath to try and settle yourself, and when that doesn’t work you take another one. It’s fine. Crosshair just likes getting under your skin, he has no way of knowing that he just picked at your biggest insecurity. 

And even if he did, it's not like he would care.

You take another deep breath, and then you leave your office too. Hopefully this date will go well, you could do with someone to talk to who isn’t Crosshair.

Two hours later, you’re back in your office, your face pressed into your arms as you try to recover from the hurt that your date gave you. 

Crosshair was right.

He wasn’t interested in you, he was interested in your family, and thought that the easiest way to climb the ranks was by getting close to you. And this isn’t the first time this happened. 

In fact, this has happened every single time you’ve tried to go on a date.

The door to your office slides open, and you lift your head slightly. You recognize the armor immediately, “Go away.” You say, your voice muffled by your arms.

“Nah.” Your desk shifts and you lift your head to scowl at Crosshair, “Bad date?”

“You were right. He wanted to use me to rub elbows with my family, congrats. Get out.” You say quietly.

Crosshair doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and then, much to your surprise, you feel his hand on the top of your head, “Did he hurt you?”

“Just emotionally.” You reply.

“...want me to shoot him?”

A muffled laugh falls from your lips, “You can’t shoot someone because they hurt my feelings, Crosshair.”

He scoffs, “Sure I can.”

You lift your head and his hand falls from your hair to your cheek. His touch is hesitant, but he doesn’t pull away. But neither do you, “Honestly, why do you even care?”

“I’m the only one who’s allowed to upset you.” Crosshair replies immediately. 

“You are incredibly frustrating.”

“Yeah, my brothers told me that all of the time too.” He says with a shrug.

“Brothers?”

“Batchmates.” Crosshair clarifies, “They’re not with the Empire. They defected.”

You huff, “Lucky them.” Crosshair’s eyebrows shoot up, and you cough, “Uh…I mean-”

He watches you evenly, “Do you want to defect, kitten?”

“...I never wanted to join the military in the first place,” You admit, “I wanted to be a teacher. But because of who my parents are, no one bothered to even try to kick me out. And then the GAR turned into the Imperial Army and I’m actually competent-”

He watches you evenly, and you lean your head into his hand. At some point his thumb started rubbing soothing circles on your cheek, and you don’t know when, but you do know that it’s soothing.

“Do you have any idea how awful this job is?” You blurt, “They keep pressuring me to decommission you, and I won’t do it because as annoying as you are, you actually are as good as you think you are-” You ramble, “And I’ve never been okay with how the clones were treated and-and and…” You wave your hands helplessly, “Damn it, you’re mine! And they don’t get to tell me to throw you away like yesterday’s trash-”

Your words are cut off when his lips crash against yours.

Crosshair’s lips are warm and slightly chapped, but you’re not thinking about that because his hand is in your hair and his tongue is sliding against your lips.

And when he breaks the kiss, you just blink at him, speechless.

“I’m yours, huh?”

Your face burns, “I…well…yes.” You finally say, “You’re mine to protect and…and it’s probably not what you want-”

“Stop telling me what I do or don’t want,” Crosshair interrupts, his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth, “I’m glad your date went poorly.” He says, “I don’t want other men looking at you, let alone touching you.”

“I don’t belong to you, Crosshair.”

“Wrong. If I’m yours,” His lips trail up your jaw, “Then you’re mine. That’s how it works. And no take backs allowed.”

“God, I hate you.”

“No you don’t, kitten. If you hated me you wouldn’t be letting me do this.” His lips drop to your neck and he bites down, roughly enough you release a yelp.

“You’re actually the worst.” 

Crosshair grins at you, “Come with me.”

“...what?”

“We’re leaving. We’ll find some backwater planet where no one’s heard of clones or the Empire, and you can become a teacher and no one will ever make choices for either of us ever again.” Crosshair murmurs against your throat, “And I get to kiss you as much as we both want.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah. Okay.”

Grandmother used to tell you that there was a fine line between love and hate, and when you were a child, you didn’t believe her.

But, as Crosshair drags you to his ship, you’re beginning to understand her.

[rroseselavyyy]

lavender moon - ksj

pairing: seokjin x female reader

warnings: angst with a touch of smut, shitty ending (the ending is kind of rushed :( sorry about that)

He nestled your head on his shoulder like he was helping a kitten finding a comfortable position in his embrace as you sat between his legs in the steaming bath. He nuzzled his nose to your exposed neck, planting soft kisses that made you mewl contentedly under his touch.

"Why were you crying all alone, baby?" He stroked your wet hair as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing your back against his firm chest as if you were the only thing keeping him safe in the middle of a thunderstorm.

You pressed your lips together in a thin line as you shook your head to make it clear that you weren't going to give him the answer he wanted to hear, his lips eliciting a chuckle just behind your ear at your childish manner.

"I think I have an idea of what's going on." You let yourself sink further into his embrace, feeling all the stress you carried on your shoulders melt away with the scent of lavender, his thumb tracing a path across your skin to dry the drops of water that adorned all the way your arm like freshwater pearls. "You're protecting my mother again, aren't you?"

You twitched in his arms, turned in his embrace to see his expression and the moment you looked into his eyes you found yourself lost in them as they bored into yours, the love he had for you was there like concrete evidence. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"She told me you should have left me a long time ago." You attempted to cover your mouth when you realized you had said more than was necessary. Even you were amazed at how easily the words slipped out of your mouth, you blamed it on the fact that you were completely relaxed in his arms, he had that special power that made your worries go away. "I don't think she's wrong, Jinnie. I've been nothing but trouble since the first day we met."

"How on earth can she be right?-" He kissed the bridge of your nose, the gesture making you blink innocently as the touch of his plump lips sent blood rushing to your cheeks. "I love you, that's all that matters."

"Do you want to know why she hates you so much?" A thousand stars had burst open in your swelling chest as he gave you a quick kiss on the lips. "Because I married the love of my life and not some other girl she wanted me to marry."

"Maybe it's because my brother beat you up so badly? Not the best first impression, obviously." You chuckled nervously as you breathed the same air as him, his fingers now intertwined with yours. "Isn't it funny that you happened to be there? Maybe we might never have met if you hadn't been there to help your brother with his wounds. Did you know that I fell in love with you the moment I laid my eyes on you?"

You rolled your eyes as he looked at you with a sense of adoration, ready to tell you for the thousandth time how beautiful you were that day like a poem he recited by heart.

"I think I have lost the count of how many times you have told me this story."

His mother's never-ending insults no longer saddened you, instead Jin and your shared giggles replaced your muffled sobs in one of the sacred places blessed by your marriage, where you would make happy memories with him until the end of time.

"You looked so pretty that day that I offered to pay your brother to beat me so I could see you again. Understandably, he didn't accept the money-" Your eyes widened in shock as you turned to face him. He giggled sweetly in your ears like a song, his hands making soothing circles on your thighs. "However, still, he beat me to death anyway. He said he did it just because he thought I was a jerk. God, you should have seen his face when I told him I wanted to marry you."

"I don't want to believe you. It doesn't even make sense." You cringed at the thought, but since nothing was impossible when it came to your husband, you could easily imagine the scenario, even with details.

"Oh love, I still have the scars on my chest to prove it." He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, causing you to slap his chest lightly in return as you smiled with your eyes closed. "Maybe you'd like to kiss them better, hmm? Mrs. Kim?"

He was just an example of how maturity was not about age. Sometimes he was so sweet that he didn't even have to try to get what he wanted.

Including getting kisses from his baby.

"Only because you asked me nicely." Your lips curled into a smirk as you wasted no time in placing your hands on his abdomen, kissing a path down his neck to his chest. "I can't see anything-" You were halfway to his collarbone when he grabbed you by the hair, and even though his hands were some of the roughest you'd ever known, knowing he wouldn't put any pressure on his grip, you let him take control.

He guided you with his hands on your waist as you shifted in his embrace to find a better position on his lap. He tasted the drops of water on your lips like a man finding water in the middle of a dessert, your foreheads touching as you enjoyed the comforting silence.

"You're the only good thing in my life-" He whispered in your ear as you allowed him to help you straddle him with his expert hands. He watched your expression intently as you grabbed his hair at the back of his neck, using it as leverage to your face. "I'm not willing to give up on you ever."

"You are mine." Feeling your hips roughly lifted by the same hands that gently stroked your hair, you let out a soft whimper against his lips, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as he guided it into your welcoming walls. "I'll make sure no one ever hurts you again. She has no right to make you sad."

"Jinnie- don't you ever get mad at your mother-" You brushed his wet hair from his forehead as you finally settled into his lap. You were both still, clinging to each other as if you wanted to be moulded into one. "You know that I can take care of myself. Your mother's just being protective, there is no harm in that."

It was Jin who broke the silence as he couldn't help but thrust his hips into you, his breath catching in his throat.

"We'll get through this." You reassured him with a kiss on his lips. "Nothing scares me when you're by my side."

He tried to hide a giggle as he bit down on his lips with ultimate force, his fingers digging into the curve of your ass as he took control of you, moving you to his liking. He was too consumed with pleasure to even form words, but he promised you in a velvety voice.

"Good thing, angel. Because even when the sky falls down, even when the earth crumbles around our feet, I'll always be here by your side."

[bugboysgf]

Hate + Love

Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Previous chapter

Summary: There is a thin line between love and hate but what if it's way thinner than you thought?

AN: I know it took me five months, but here it is.

“I need to know why he's doing this.” you pace back and forth in your room. Kitty just sat on the bed looking at you. She's never seen you this frantic before. It was the next day, you tried to not let what Derek told you yesterday bother you but it did.

“Calm down, i asked Q and he said he doesnt know anything, just that Min ho was worried about the date.” “I dont get it, this thing only happens in books not in real life.” you said.

“Maybe he's been reading too many books then.” Kitty shrugged.

“It always ends the same way… you dont think Min ho likes me right? He can't, he's him and I'm me.”

“It's a possible you guys are almost the same, i swear if you guys never hated each other i wouldve tried to set you guys up.” “It doesnt matter, Kitty, he can't do things like this. I had a date and I finally felt like somebody liked me and he just ruined it. He always finds a way to ruin things for me and I'm so done with it. We need a plan to get him back or make him confess.” Kitty sat there puzzled thinking of a plan. Suddenly she starts smiling and looks at you. 

“What?” you look at her confused. 

“We can pretend like you're moving out.”

“Moving out? Over a guy?” you scoffed, it didnt sound like something you wouldnt do and you knew there was no way it could be believable. 

“Hear me out, I know it sounds like something you wouldnt do but you think Min Ho is going to know that?  He's already on edge trying to make sure you dont find out about what he did. I can guarantee you it's believable.”

You look at her for a split second you didnt have an idea so hers was the best you guys could do anyways. “Okay fine what do i need to do?”

“Simple steps but it can be all completed in less than a couple of hours, firstly its breakfast so he's gonna go down there any minute. No classes today so you can go downstarts in a hoodie and sweats act like youve been crying all night. When you see him dont say anything, keep your head down and let me do the talking.” kitty explained. 

“Okay got it, this better work.” you knew this was extreme just to get a simple piece of information out of minho but if you confronted him you knew he was too stubborn to tell you his emotions straight up. 

You followed everything kitty said, you went downstairs with her with a hoodie and sweats on. You didnt want anybody seeing you like this, you were always well put together but today it was different. You needed to find out if Minho did all of this because he liked you. The possibility was very slim in your mind but in Kitty’s mind it was 100 percent the truth. 

You and kitty walked over to the table where Minho and Q sat at. You kept your head down and didnt say a word to any of them. Minho looked at you waiting for you to say something smart or sarcastic to him but you didnt. He was more confused than ever, he titled his head a little bit to see your face but you put your head down. 

“What's wrong with you? Why didn’t you go to class yesterday?” he asked you.

“She's sad minho. Leave her alone." Kitty said to him.

“I was asking her, not you.” Minho rolled his eyes. 

“Well she doesnt feel like talking, derkek ghosted her.”

“He ghosted you?” Min ho asked you in a concerned tone.

“I dont want to talk about it leave me alone.” you snapped at him. “Kitty, enjoy your breakfast. I'm going to go sign the papers.”

“Okay bye” kitty watched you walk about, minho waited until you were no longer in the cafeteria to say something. 

“What papers?” he asked, concerned. Q just sat there not paying attention to anything but his phone. “She's leaving.” Kitty explained. 

“Leaving and going where?” Minho was confused. What did she mea you were leaving?

“She's going back to los angeles she booked her flight and everything.” “Over a guy”  he scoffed.

“Yes over a guy, she feels embarrassed and she said you were right about him not liking her. She doesnt feel like she belong here.” “She does belong here, she loves this place.” “Well not anymore” Kitty shrurgged.

“You have to stop her.” 

“I tried but maybe you can just talk to her.”

Minho didnt understand why you would do something like this over something so minor. He didn’t mean to cause this much damage, all he wanted to do was stop you from going on a date. Now it backfired on him and he didn’t really know how to fix this but he had to try at least. 

You were in your room pretending to be packing. Kitty sent you a message saying that Minho was on his way to your dorm to stop you. The plan was working, you didnt know how you would be able to stay serious but you had to, you needed to know the truth. 

“open the door y/n.” you heard banging from outside of your room, you knew it was Minho. You huffed and opened the door. He barged in looking at all of the clothes in the suitcase and realized you were serious about this. 

“What's up with the suitcases?” he asked, he already knew the answer but he wasn’t going to believe it until he heard it come from out of your mouth.

“I'm leaving.” you said in a mumble. 

“But why?”

“I just want to be here anymore. I know it's dramatic but since I've been here it's like I can't compete. Everybody here has money and I don't. I'm on a stupid scholarship. You were right about Derek, he didn't like me.” you sat down on your bed with your head down. He sat down next to you looking at you trying to figure out what to say next. He didnt know how to comfort people and definitely not a girl at that. 

“He's just a stupid guy, maybe he was just busy.” “You dont get it, nobody likes me, no matter how hard I try. I barely have any friends here, and you hate me.” you were trying not to cringe at your words but you needed minho to believe this. 

“I like you.” Minho whispered.

“I mean yea you're starting to like me, afterall you did help me fix my necklace.” “No, I mean like, like you like you. In a romantic kinda way.”

You got up from the bed and just looked at him in shock. “What?”

“Listen Derek did want to go on the date but i told him not too. I had a video about him that I could use against his family. I got jealous, I'm sorry.” he explained, you were still stuck on what he said before. You got both of your answers at one time and it was a lot for you. 

 “You like me?” you asked, still trying to process it. You sat back down not knowing what to do. 

“That's what i said.” he said in a calm voice, how could he be so calm right now he just confessed his feelings for a person that he is supposed to hate. 

“Are you gonna say something?” he asked, he hated not knowing what you were thinking in your head, it was killing him inside. 

 You werent the best at saying how you feel but in this moment you had to, it was now or nothing. “I um- i like you too.” saying that to minho felt weird because you always thought from the day he met you that he would never like you. 

“Is it too much to ask you to go on a date with me?” he asked in a unsure tone, he didnt know if it was crossing the line after he ruined your first one. 

“No i dont think it's too much” you smiled. 

“So boba then?”

“It's a date.”

[skyfallscotland]

⭐ Violet Sorrengail's Guide to Spinning a Scandal by @caeli0306

Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail

Complete / AU / 70k

Violet Sorrengail is a highly effective political crisis consultant. Xaden Riorson is poised to win his late father's old senate seat. The hatred between the two runs deep, but its been years since their fiery classroom debates in college, and Violet was certain she'd never cross paths with him again, until her expertise is required to keep doctored stories that could sink Xaden's campaign from gaining traction just before the general election. The chemistry is off-the-charts, the tension has every other staffer fleeing when the two end up in the same room, and the fire that existed between them is as hot as ever. But as time goes on, Violet begins to realize exactly how true the saying, "There's a thin line between love and hate," really is.

So, so good! Deserves so much more love than it's getting. Infinite love. If you like political dramas like Scandal, you'll love this! It's like not-quite-enemies-to-lovers but with enough tension to keep you reading long into the night. Can I call it short and sweet at 70k? I don't know, it felt that way—like not a massive commitment but long enough to keep you entertained for hours. If you want to see Violet outsmarting everyone around her and Xaden down bad, this is the fic for you! I love them, your honour. More modern AU's like this one, please 💗

[grapenamjams]

At work I thought about a slightly angsty fic scenario about Togame 🐢 bare with me here as I just dump my thoughts

- A/N: reading this back I jump from using reader and “you” just ignore that. Thanks!

So, reader and Togame got together before he joined Shishitoren. Maybe first meeting when he was working at a festival (no I will not let this perfect meet cute scenario go) point is reader got to know Togame before he changed. Knowing His sweet, shy, caring, laidback side.

Therefore when he joins Shoshitoren Reader watches the Togame they knew slowly change before their own eyes. Turning cold, cocky , violent and cruel towards his fellow gang members.

Reader will still see glimpses of who he was when he was you. Reader Still knows in their heart that he would never hurt them physically and he loves and cherishes reader dearly but his personality still had changed dramatically, to the point reader found it hard to differentiate between his opposing personalities. Bleeding into his personal life. Reader also just couldn’t turn a blind eye to the things he was doing, the pain he was causing to others even though it was deserved at times he would go to extremes.

Naturally this was causing a strain between the two. distance and arguments were frequent in the relationship. Wearing each other thin. Togame knew he was hurting you and it pained him but he was adamant to his promise he made to his friend.

Reader hearing about what happend under the bridge, what Togame had done and the scheduled battle with Bofurin was pretty much the tipping point for reader.

The night before the battle. Reader and Togame had an argument.one of the worst ones yet. Words were said that hit harder than bloody fits ever could. Monster was one of the words that made Togame freeze in his tracks as he followed you into his bedroom watching you grab your things that had slowly started to apear through the years together. Reader regretted the words once they left their mouth but they remain firm. Togame didn’t remember what he said but it was enough to bring tears to his partners eyes and have them make a straight line for the door. He sinks to the floor head thudding against the wall, letting out a curse as he runs his hands through his hair the silence to loud your last words the only thing ringing in his head.

Almost a week goes by since the battle with Bofurin when Togame found himself in readers living room. He wanted to hide, to let you go completely, telling himself that you would be better off without him. Even though he was finally able to drop the facade he had built for his promise. He knows he caused you so much pain. hurt you so many times to able to save what you two had.

But in all his efforts at distance he couldn’t step away and leave things how they ended that night. not before trying to apologize to you for his behavior. He knows he didn’t deserve it, your forgiveness, for you to not remember him only for his worst parts. He knows he treated you horribly, not taking care, cherishing you as he ought had done. as he wanted too. He couldnt handle the thought of you hating him. It tore him up inside to know you thought him a cruel monster at the end of your guys story. And he tells reader all of this.

“That person…that wasn’t who I am. You know me, yeah? I got lost in my own facade I created. I just…” his deep voice falters, tears that were in his eyes begin to drop down. “Your opinion of me matters so much to me, angel. I don’t want you to hate me I don’t want you to leave us thinking I’m a monster. I know I havnt done much to prove otherwise recently… I’m so incredibly sorry for how I hurt you. You didn’t deserve that and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I just…fuck I just wanted to try”

Your heart aches at Seeing him so desperately asking for your forgiveness. Almost as if he wants to get on his knees if you continue to stay silent. (I’m breaking my own heart here yall god T_T)

The relationship had recently become rocky, but at the end of the day you both loved each other. You had always known that his true self was locked away somewhere and you had hoped to see him again. of course it won’t be the exact same, but you knew you would love every version of him never being able to truly hate him. Meaning so much to you. Telling him this, Togame tears fall freely.

“Say it again” he pulls you into him tightly anchoring himself as he shakes with quiet,  sobs. “say that you don’t hate me please”

You hug him back just as fiercely before pulling back to cup his face in your hands. Tearful eyes taking in your face, desperately. “ I don’t hate you I never could. I love you Togame.”

[crisalidaseason]

Fourth Wing/Iron flame spoilers

Lilith Sorrengail: fucking complex character rant.

Warning: This is not a defense post for Lilith, this is merely my observations about her. I do not condone her actions at all!

So, despite many people hating her I think Lilith is a really interesting character. I can hate her actions, but not her entirely.

First of all, she is clearly a badass motherfucker that comes from a huge line of badass motherfuckers. The fact she is a storm wielder says a lot about her as a person. Storms are ruthless, destructive, but also necessary for nature.

She clearly has a very difficult position, one that makes her do things that goes against her own morals but also guarantees the protection of her loved ones. Unfortunately, regarding the bad shit, she does have to suck it up for the benefit of their country - and going against what leadership wants is clearly dangerous. In a way, her years in the military shaped her to become the current person we meet in Fourth Wing.

Lilith is not an affectionate parent to her children. She loves them very much, but she never thought about them as human beings in need of love, only protection and training. For her, making sure her children live and succeed has been her only objective. Her husband seemed to be the one to fill the role of raising them in a more affectionate manner and I think she thought that was enough. Therefore, she treats them like soldiers and her husband attends to other necessities.

Her relationship with Violet is by far the most hearbreaking. I don't think she necessarily hates her daughter, she hates herself for failing to protect Violet from the illness. There is a lot of self-hatred on Lilith's behavior and I think she runs away from it by building this huge wall between her and Violet - which is not nearly as thin as the wall of distance she built for Brennan and Mira. At the same time, Violet is the child she is most paranoid about protecting - in her own manner.

Something that I theorize: The possibility that Lilith was actually very similar to Violet in the past. The fact Lilith wield storms and her daughter wields lightning makes me think they had very similar views at some point, hence why they manifested similar signets (though I think Violet is not only capable of wielding lightning, but this is not a theory for this post).

Because Lilith distances herself even more from Violet, her daughter ends up being fully raised by the father. This is what breaks my heart even more. \when Violet mentions that her mother ingored her completely after her father's death, I can imagine that not only Violet became a reminder of Lilith's younger self, but also the copy paste behavior of her husband - whom she loved dearly. Violet is a painful walking reminder of her failures, her past self and her husband.

Lilith sending Violet to the riders quadrant was downright cruel, but I understand her reasoning. Violet would end up questioning too much within the scribes and possibly end up killed as a traitor - something that puts Mira and Lilith herself in danger too. Sending her to the riders allows Violet to focus on her survival more than the bullshit they are hiding - which fucking backfires but Lilith had no way of knowing that.

In the end, Lilith would do whatever she could to ensure Violet survived within the quadrant, and she did. Asking Xaden - the son of the man who 'killed' one of your kids, the boy you tortured - to protect your youngest is a fucking desperate move. Yes, sending Violet to the quadrant was cruel, but she had all bets that this girl would survive. Or at least die what Lilith would consider a 'honorable' death, though I don't think she actually planned to bury Violet, she would have moved more pieces on her chess game.

In iron flame, when Violet is rescued from the torture chamber, not only is Lilith ready to murder everyone on the path to her daugher, but she actually aids Xaden to get her out of there. At that point, she could not give a fuck if her daughter running away puts her and Mira in danger, she wants Violet out of harm immediatly and consequences be dealt with later. She could have forced Xaden to leave Violet there, Varrish was dead already and she could monitor the college to not have that kind of situation happen again, but no, she lets them go!

When Lilith meets her children alongside Melgren and other leaders, her only reason to have all of her kids there was for solely seeing them a last time and hand Lyra's journal. She did not know where, but she knew Violet was raising wards and needed to make sure the wards were fully powered. That book should have returned to the king's library, but instead she stole it and gave it to her children as a last action. It was a desperate measure when she felt completely powerless knowing that they were exposed to venin.

Finally, the moment of her death. Lilith proved her loyalty to her children - to Violet of all children - that moment. No way she was going to loose a child for a problem Lilith caused alongside leadership. Her death was her ultimate act of protection, even if it meant breaking her child's heart yet again.