#i love how the answers just get progressively longer

[heartsriki]

WHEN GOSSIP MEETS LOVE ⌇ 함께

pairing ᝰ sunghoon x fem!reader — featuring.. Jake (as jaeyun) & Riki | word count: 6.6k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ office romance, boss! sunghoon, fluff, tiny angst, make-outs, getting drunk, isolation, passing out, reader is blunt, sunghoon is arrogant at times.

synopsis — after being saved by Sunghoon on your first week of the job, you have had a blatant crush on him to the point the whole office knows. Later he learned of your interest, usually he wouldn’t care but why wont you make a move?

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊so this turned out way longer than expected… PLEASE READ THE BONUS ITS SO CUTE— Also I love me a semi arrogant man who gets put in his place 👅

Today was supposed to be just another day at the office. The same mind-numbing tasks, the same stale air, the same routine. The only thing that ever really changed around here was the gossip, and honestly, you kind of lived for it.

As you strolled down the hallway with a stack of papers in hand, you noticed your coworkers gathered in a huddle, whispering excitedly. Curiosity piqued, and you set the papers down on a nearby desk and wandered over.

“What’s going on?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

The group turned to you, immediately shushing you before gesturing toward the glass-walled conference room. “Look,” one of them whispered, pointing.

You followed their gaze to the meeting in progress—specifically, to the group of men seated at the table. Raising a brow, you asked, “So… we’re just staring at men now?”

One of the girls grinned, barely able to contain her excitement. “Not just men. They just hired Mr. Kim Sunoo. Isn’t he dreamy? He’s totally my type.”

Another chimed in, dramatically clutching her chest. “What I wouldn’t give to get a piece of Mr. Lee. Ugh, it’s unfair how perfect he is.”

You stood there, unimpressed, letting your eyes wander to the man sitting at the end of the table.

“What about you, Y/N?” one of them asked, nudging you with her elbow. “Anyone in there catch your eye?”

Before you could answer, a sharp cough sounded behind you, making the entire group freeze.

“Do you ladies have no shame?” Jaeyun drawled, raising an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee.

“Jesus, Mr. Sim, would it kill you to mind your own business?” one of the girls snapped, rolling her eyes.

Jaeyun chuckled. “And miss out on this? Never. Besides, everyone knows who Y/N’s been crushing on.”

You immediately stiffened, while the other two girls exchanged looks. Their eyes darted to where you were staring—at him.

“Mr. Park?”

“No way! He’s such an asshole.”

“You could do so much better.”

Their words blurred into background noise as you kept your gaze locked on Park Sunghoon, your so-called “crush.” But they didn’t get it. They couldn’t possibly understand. To them, he was cold and aloof—practically a robot. But to you? He was… interesting.

You didn’t always feel that way. When you started at the company a year ago, you weren’t interested in men—or dating at all. You were laser-focused on your career, and determined to climb the corporate ladder. Then you met him.

It all started your first week on the job. The office wasn’t the soul-crushing nightmare you’d seen in movies. Your little corner office was cozy, and your workload was manageable. Things were going smoothly—until they weren’t.

Some of the senior employees, jealous of your early success, had sabotaged your presentation for an important meeting. As you stood in front of the board fumbling through the slides, your confidence crumbled. Your hands shook, your throat felt dry, and your face burned with humiliation. Then, out of nowhere, he walked in.

Park Sunghoon strode up to your computer with an air of calm authority, plugging in a USB without a word. The correct presentation appeared on the screen, and you blinked in disbelief.

The head of the board narrowed his eyes. “Mr. Park, care to explain your tardiness?”

“I apologize,” Sunghoon said smoothly. “But I caught some employees tampering with Ms. Y/N’s presentation. I thought it necessary to intervene.”

The board members exchanged glances before nodding, motioning for you to continue. Your real presentation went off without a hitch, earning praise from the directors. But all you could think about was the man who had saved you from disaster.

After the meeting, you waited outside the conference room, nervously clutching your notes. As soon as Sunghoon stepped out, you followed him, finally mustering the courage to tap him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mr. Park?”

He turned, his expression blank but expectant. “Yes?”

“I just… wanted to thank you for what you did back there,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

His reply was cold and clipped. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it because I don’t tolerate workplace sabotage. Don’t expect me to save you again.”

Then he walked away, leaving you speechless.

A normal person might’ve been offended. Maybe even angry. But you? You were utterly smitten. How many men these days are that serious and passionate about their work? And let’s be honest—how many of them looked like that?

From that moment on, Park Sunghoon was your ideal man: hardworking, principled, and impossibly handsome. Sure, the whole office thought you were crazy for crushing on him, but they didn’t see what you see.

And as you stood there, watching him from across the room, you couldn’t help but wonder what he else he had underneath that surface.

A week after that little encounter with your coworkers, fate seemed to step in when you were assigned to lead a project—with none other than Mr. Park as your supervisor. Coincidence? You didn’t think so.

Now, as you sat in his office, he was going on about the plans and blueprints for the project. But you? You weren’t paying much attention. Your chin rested on your hands as you stared at him, absolutely transfixed.

“The peak must be at—Ms. Y/N, are you even listening?”

You blinked, snapping out of your trance. “Of course I am,” you replied with a bright, innocent smile.

He hummed, unconvinced. “Alright, then. How do you feel about placing it on Downtown Avenue?”

You nodded immediately. “Sounds great.”

His sharp gaze bore into you as he placed his pen down. “Interesting answer,” he mused, leaning forward until your faces were so close they nearly touched. “I never mentioned Downtown Avenue.”

Your eyes widened, and you quickly leaned back in your chair, flustered. Heat rose to your cheeks as you scrambled to regain composure. “I—I’m sorry, Mr. Park. Please continue. I’m listening now.”

He didn’t look convinced but leaned back into his chair, eyes narrowing slightly. “Alright.”

For all his calm professionalism, Sunghoon couldn’t quite figure you out. Sure, you were talented—he couldn’t deny that. But you were also incredibly dishonest, something he’d picked up on a month ago.

From the moment you first met, he could feel your gaze on him, as if you had a personal vendetta. He figured you hated him for how blunt he’d been during that initial meeting. But as time passed, he realized it was the exact opposite.

The revelation had come during a lunch break with the other department heads.

“What about you, Mr. Park?” one of them asked, smirking. “Is there a special lady waiting for you at home?”

Sunghoon raised a brow, finishing a bite of his food before setting his utensils down. “No, I live alone.”

The man hummed, and the others chuckled knowingly. Then, one of them leaned forward. “What about Ms. Y/N?”

At that, Sunghoon froze. “Excuse me?” he asked, voice cold.

The man chuckled nervously, straightening up. “Well, everyone knows how much she’s into you. Why don’t you give her a chance?”

The words threw Sunghoon off completely. “How much she’s into me?” he repeated, utterly confused. “Why would she be?”

For the first time in a long while, Sunghoon felt genuinely flustered. The idea that you might like him had never crossed his mind. And once the seed was planted, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

His first instinct was to let you down easy. He’d been pursued before and thought it best to nip things in the bud. But when it came to you, things didn’t go as planned. Every time he tried to confront you, the words just wouldn’t come out.

In his frustration, he turned to Jaeyun, the office gossip king.

“Mr. Sim,” Sunghoon began, his voice strained. “Just tell me already.”

Jaeyun turned away, arms crossed. “I’m not spilling Y/N’s secrets.”

Sunghoon’s patience was wearing thin. “I’ll give you my year-end bonus.”

Jaeyun’s head whipped around, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Deal. Yes, she’s interested in you, but not enough to ask you out.”

Sunghoon raised a brow. “What do you mean, ‘not enough’? Are you saying I’m not worth asking out?”

Jaeyun held his hands up defensively. “No, no, she’s just focused on her career right now. Don’t take it personally.”

But Sunghoon did take it personally. The idea of someone liking him and not acting on it? It didn’t sit well with him. His pride was bruised.

From then on, he started coaxing you, trying to provoke you into asking him out. At office dinners, he’d sit near you, only for you to switch tables. In meetings, you avoided eye contact as if it were a matter of life and death. It was infuriating.

And now, as he explained the project, you sat across from him, staring at him like he was the center of your universe. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ms. Y/N,” he said abruptly.

“Hm?” you hummed, snapping back to attention.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes scrutinizing you. “Have you heard the latest office gossip?”

You tilted your head, confused. “I don’t think so, sir. But what does that—”

“I heard the women in the office are all over our new hire, Mr. Kim,” he interrupted. “Are you one of them?”

Your brow furrowed, suspicious of his sudden interest. “Well, I haven’t had the chance to speak to Mr. Kim yet, so—”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he groaned, rubbing his temples. “I know you’re interested in me.”

Your eyes widened at his bluntness, but instead of denying it, you relaxed. “Yes, that’s right.”

His jaw tightened. “Then why haven’t you said anything? You lack initiative—”

You cut him off, staring at him dead in the eye. “Are you interested in me, Mr. Park?”

The question caught him off guard. His ears turned red as he replied, “No, I’m not.”

“Then why would I ask you out?” you shot back, your tone calm and collected.

He was stunned into silence. Since when did you have the upper hand in this conversation?

“Because it would allow you to get over me quicker,” he said, straightening his tie.

You stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded, his pride wounded.

“You think too highly of yourself, Mr. Park,” you said, standing up. “Did you think I’d beg for you? My work is more important than any man—even you.”

With that, you turned and walked out of his office, leaving him frozen in place.

For the first time, Park Sunghoon felt like he’d underestimated someone. But one thing was certain: he wasn’t going to let you off that easily.

In the days following your conversation with Sunghoon, you noticed a subtle shift in his behavior. The once-distant supervisor now seemed to find reasons to linger near your workspace, his presence a constant, albeit silent, companion. It was almost endearing, watching him struggle with the unfamiliar territory of being put in his place.

Today, his strategy appeared to involve hovering nearby, perhaps hoping you’d initiate a conversation. His restlessness was overwhelming. Should he apologize? But that would require him to make the first move, a notion that likely clashed with his pride.

Seeking guidance, Sunghoon found himself seated across from Jaeyun at an upscale restaurant—a setting procured through the promise of an expensive dinner. Jaeyun, the holder of all office gossip, knew how to drive a bargain.

“Alright, talk. Has she mentioned anything?” Sunghoon inquired, his impatience barely concealed.

Jaeyun took a deliberate sip of his wine before responding. “Nope, not a word.”

Sunghoon’s frustration was evident. “Nothing? Are you sure?”

Jaeyun nodded, his gaze drifting to the gorgeous night view outside. “I swear. I mean, she’s been busy lately. Extremely busy.”

Sunghoon’s curiosity was piqued. “Explain, Mr. Sim.”

“Please call me Jaeyun, we’re not at work.” Jaeyun said.

Sunghoon gulped never being informal before. “Okay…. Jaeyun— please elaborate.”

Setting his utensils down, Jaeyun sighed. “Well, besides the project you two are working on, she also has financial responsibilities concerning her family, especially her younger brother.”

Sunghoon listened intently.

“She’s been working overtime to gather extra funds for his tuition. I heard he’s exceptionally talented in the entertainment field, but their family isn’t wealthy enough to cover the expenses.”

Sunghoon absorbed the information, No he didn’t understand. Sunghoon has been fortunate his whole life but he was open to learning. He sat there contemplating his next move.

Jaeyun’s voice broke through his thoughts. “What’s all this for anyway? Do you like her?”

Sunghoon scoffed. “Why would you think that?”

Jaeyun smirked. “Who goes this far to reject a woman?”

Sunghoon pondered the remark. Perhaps you had made more of an impression on him than he cared to admit. Interest? Maybe.

“Okay, how should I approach this? What does she like? Purses? Jewelry?”

Jaeyun chuckled. “Wait, you’re serious? Oh man, you really have no idea…”

Sunghoon remained silent, a faint blush coloring his ears and face.

“Just be normal, Show her you care.” Jaeyun observed Sunghoon’s puzzled expression. “If you really need to buy her something, get her some food. She enjoys a good meal.”

Now that was something Sunghoon could manage. If he was going to reach out to you, a thoughtful gesture like sharing a meal might be the perfect starting point.

Sunghoon wanted to do something nice for you. A nice thought quickly turned into an overbearing gesture.

One day, you found a paper bag in your office. Inside were sweets from the bakery just a few minutes away from the building. Even though they weren’t your favorite, you appreciated the gesture and ate them. Sunghoon saw you smile through your office blinds a safe distance away and felt happy. He quickly looked around to make sure no one noticed and then walked away.

After that, he started leaving more and more food in your office. It became overwhelming. Today, you walked in and saw so much food that it startled you. You had figured out it was Sunghoon; he wasn’t very sneaky, especially after you caught him leaving your office last week.

This was too much. How could you eat all this? You sighed, closed your office door, and walked to Sunghoon’s office. You knocked.

“Come in,” he said.

You entered, giving him a sharp look. He stood up, adjusting his suit.

“Ms. Y/N?” he asked, looking confused.

“Mr. Park, how much longer are you going to leave all that food in my office?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

You crossed your arms. “Did you really think I could eat all that in one sitting?”

He gulped, running a hand through his hair.

“And do you even know what foods I like? What if I was allergic to some of them?”

He scoffed walking over to you slowly. “What do you like then? What are you allergic to?” He was now very close.

“Can’t hate a man you haven’t given a chance, don’t you think?”

Your face turned red. You were stunned by his bluntness. “What are you talking about?”

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

You tried to keep your composure. “I don’t have plans, but—”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you after work then.”

You didn’t believe him at first. You’ve met many arrogant men who talk big, so you assumed he was the same.

After a seemingly long task, you finally finished your job, clocking out. You exited the building and saw him leaning on his car, arms crossed with his eyebrows furrowed like always. When he saw you, his eyes softened. He gave you a small smile and opened the passenger door.

This was new, but you went along, got in the car, and he closed the door behind you. You didn’t see it but, He checked his hair in his phone’s reflection before getting in.

As he drove, you admired the city view. The lights of the night never got old to you. But sooner than later curiosity got the better of you. “Where are we going?”

He glanced at you through the mirror before focusing back on the road. “Dinner at ‘The Villa.’”

Your eyes widened. “Are you serious? That place is expensive and fancy.”

He nodded. “I thought you’d enjoy it.”

You sighed. You could see he was trying, but fancy restaurants weren’t your thing. An idea popped into your head. “Turn here Mr. Park, I know a place we can go.”

He looked at you, puzzled, but followed your directions. You guided him to a small restaurant. As you both got out, he seemed disappointed when you didn’t let him open the door for you but brushed it off.

He looked around, not seeing any fancy places. “Is this it? A grill?”

You turned to him with the prettiest smile he’d ever seen on you. “Yup! Come on.” You reached out your hand.

Usually, he wouldn’t choose a place like this, but with a smile like that, he’d follow you anywhere. He took your hand, and you both went inside.

Inside, the atmosphere was cozy and lively. The smell of grilled food filled the air. You found a table, and he awkwardly sat down, clearly out of his element.

A server came by, placing a small grill in the center of your table and bringing plates of raw meat and vegetables. Sunghoon looked confused.

You giggled. “It’s a DIY grill. We cook our own food here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We… cook?”

You nodded, picking up a piece of meat with the tongs and placing it on the grill. It sizzled, and the aroma was mouth-watering.

He watched you, then hesitantly picked up the tongs. He tried to mimic your actions but fumbled, almost dropping the meat.

You laughed, reaching over to guide his hand. “Like this.”

As the evening went on, you both cooked, ate, and talked. Sunghoon shared stories about his upbringing, and you told him about your family. He was clumsy with the grill, burning some pieces and undercooking others, but you found it endearing.

At one point, he tried to flip a piece of meat and it flew off the grill, landing on the table. He looked mortified, but you burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry,” he said, chuckling. “I’m not used to this.”

You smiled. “It’s okay. It’s fun.”

By the end of the night, the initial awkwardness had faded.

After a delightful dinner at the grill, you and Sunghoon stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the streets. As you walked side by side, you noticed a small park nearby, its swings gently swaying in the breeze.

“How about a walk in the park?” you suggested, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Sunghoon glanced at the swings, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “I haven’t been on a swing in years,” he admitted, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.

“Well, tonight’s the perfect night to revisit childhood memories,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

With a resigned smile, he agreed, “Alright, lead the way.”

You both approached the swings, and you took a seat on one, motioning for him to join you. He hesitated for a moment, then sat beside you, his posture stiff and unsure.

“Just relax,” you encouraged, giving him a gentle push. “I got you.”

As the swing moved, Sunghoon’s expression softened, and a genuine smile appeared on his face. He began to swing higher, his laughter blending with the night air.

“See? It’s fun,” you said, your voice filled with joy.

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours. “No, you’re the one making it fun Ms, Y/N.”

You both continued to swing, the world around you fading away. The simple act of swinging together brought a sense of closeness and comfort, a shared moment of happiness.

After a while, you slowed the swing and stood up. “Shall we continue our walk?”

“Of course,” he said, his voice soft.

As you walked through the park, you talked about everything and nothing—your dreams, your favorite books, the places you wanted to visit. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and with each step, you felt a deeper connection forming between you.

That night with Sunghoon felt like it was straight out of a dream—a memory you knew would replay in your mind over and over again. He wasn’t at all what you’d expected. Sure, he had an air of arrogance, and his confidence sometimes teetered on egotistical, but once you broke through that wall, he was entirely different. Genuine. Kind. Charming in a way that made you question how you’d ever misjudged him.

You’d never felt this kind of excitement in a long time, this sense of longing and hope for something more. A relationship. He hadn’t officially asked you out yet, but it felt inevitable. You’d already started imagining how it might all unfold.

But that was just wishful thinking.

The next day, as you walked into the office, you couldn’t ignore the way whispers followed you down the hallway. People stealing glances at you, hurriedly looking away when you caught their eye. At first, you brushed it off. Office gossip was nothing new. Maybe someone had spilled coffee on their boss again.

But the moment you saw your phone light up with notifications—hundreds of them—you realized you were the center of the latest spectacle.

It wasn’t just office chatter. It was everywhere. Tabloids, social media, magazines, blogs. Photos of you and Sunghoon—laughing together, standing too close, looking too comfortable. But that wasn’t the worst part. The headlines? They were brutal.

“Is Riki Nishimura’s Older Sister Using Park Sunghoon for Fame?”

“Dating Rumors Could Derail His Career!”

“How Will This Affect HER Younger Brother’s Future?”

Your stomach churned as you scrolled. At first, you laughed bitterly, brushing it off as ridiculous speculation. But then, you saw the headline about your brother. Your little brother, who had worked so hard to get where he was. Your heart sank.

If they wanted to drag your name through the mud, fine. But dragging your family into it? Threatening Riki’s career? That crossed a line.

You paced the floor of your office, wracking your brain for a solution. There was only one answer. It wasn’t fair, but it was the only way. You and Sunghoon… this thing between you—it couldn’t happen. Not if it meant jeopardizing your brother’s future.

The tears came slowly at first, then all at once as you slumped into your chair, burying your face in your hands. You hadn’t even realized how much you’d come to cherish what you began to have with Sunghoon until now, as you were being forced to let it go.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon had no idea what was happening. He was in his office, practically glowing, still riding the high from the time you spent together. He couldn’t wait to see you.

On his break, he searched for you. The lounge. The meeting room. Even your office. But you were nowhere to be found.

Frustrated, he turned to his co-worker—and now trusted friend—Jaeyun.

“Jaeyun, have you seen Y/N?” he asked, his tone casual, but his impatience obvious.

Jaeyun’s expression fell, pity flashing in his eyes. “Y/N? She… she put in for a two-week leave this morning. I figured you knew.”

Sunghoon’s heart sank. “What? Why? What happened?”

Jaeyun gave him a pointed look. “You haven’t seen the news, have you?”

Frowning, Sunghoon pulled out his phone, quickly typing in his name. The search results made his breath hitch. Article after article, photos, speculation, your name tied to his, your family dragged into the chaos.

Then he saw the headline about your brother. His grip on the phone tightened. He knew what you were thinking. Knew why you’d disappeared. And there was no way he was going to let this spiral any further.

Without a second thought, he called your number. Once. Twice. Three times. Each attempt went to voicemail.

Panic bubbled in his chest. He couldn’t let you do this—not alone, not to yourself, not to your relationship.

He barked an order to his assistant to start taking down the articles, to figure out who was behind this mess. But first, he needed to find you.

And when he did, he wasn’t going to let you push him away.

The days felt endless as you holed up in your apartment, your only companions being guilt and loneliness. It had been a week since you requested a two-week leave, and in that time, you hadn’t dared step foot outside. The weight of the news, the whispers, and the consequences of your choices pressed down on you like a heavy blanket.

The day you left the office, you called Riki, your voice trembling as you asked if he was okay. He reassured you that everything was fine—for now. His management had advised him to lay low until the rumors blew over. He didn’t sound angry, but that almost made it worse. You felt like you’d dragged him into your mess, and the guilt ate away at you.

Since then, you’d spent most of your time thinking about Sunghoon. Replaying the moments you’d shared, wondering how he felt, and most of all, worrying about what you’d say to him when you eventually faced him again. Did he care that much? Or had this all been one-sided? These questions swirled in your mind endlessly as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Desperate to drown out your thoughts, you remembered the new bar that had recently opened near your apartment. Without much thought, you dragged yourself out of bed, threw on some clothes, and headed out.

The bar was dimly lit, buzzing with quiet conversations and the occasional burst of laughter. You didn’t waste any time. One drink turned into two, then three, then four. You lost count after that, the haze of alcohol dulling your thoughts until you didn’t feel much of anything. Eventually, your body gave in, and you slumped over, unconscious.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon was unraveling.

It had been a week since he last saw you, and the distance was driving him insane. Every attempt to find you ended in failure. He didn’t know where you lived, your favorite places, or even how to contact your family. It frustrated him to no end, and it hurt even more to think that you might be avoiding him.

Every evening, he found himself at the small grill you both went to, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Tonight was no different. He stood outside the familiar spot, his hands shoved into his coat pockets as he tried to stave off the cold.

The buzz of his phone broke through his thoughts, and his heart leapt when he saw your name on the screen. He fumbled to answer, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Y/N? Where are you—”

“Are you friends with the owner of this phone?” a deep, unfamiliar voice interrupted.

Sunghoon blinked, pulling the phone away to confirm it was your number on the display. Confusion settled in. “Uh, yeah? Who is this? Why do you have her phone?”

“No worries,” the man replied. “She’s passed out in my bar. I found her phone unlocked and figured I’d call someone. Can you come pick her up?”

Sunghoon’s heart dropped. “Where is she?”

The man gave him the location, and Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. He bolted to his car and sped through the city, his mind racing with questions. Were you okay? Why were you at a bar alone this late?

When he arrived, he barely parked the car before running inside. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you. Slumped over the bar, your head resting on your arms, you looked so vulnerable. Relief and worry collided in his chest as he approached you.

“You’re Hoon, right?” the bartender asked, eyeing him curiously.

Sunghoon blinked in confusion before realizing the name was probably how you saved his contact. He smiled faintly, nodding. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The bartender nodded and stepped away, leaving Sunghoon to focus on you. His chest tightened when he saw how puffy your eyes were, evidence of the tears you’d cried before drinking yourself into this state.

He crouched beside you, placing a gentle hand on your back. “Y/N… can you walk?”

Your eyes fluttered open, blurry and unfocused as they locked with his. For a moment, you looked like you were seeing a ghost.

“Hoon?” you slurred softly, your voice tinged with disbelief.

He sighed in relief. “Yeah, it’s me. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

But when you didn’t move, he frowned. You were too out of it to help him. He checked your phone, hoping for some clue about where to take you, but it was locked.

He hesitated. Taking you to his place didn’t feel right, but with no other options and the clock striking midnight, he made a decision.

“You’ll understand, right?” he murmured to himself, draping his coat over your shoulders. He carefully helped you to your feet, guiding you out of the bar and into his car.

The drive to his penthouse was quiet, save for your soft breathing. He couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you, the city lights illuminating your face in a way that made his chest ache. Even like this, you were beautiful.

When they arrived, getting you upstairs was a challenge. You slumped against him, muttering incoherently and occasionally whining about how tired you were. By the time he managed to unlock his door and get you inside, he was exhausted.

He guided you to his bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed. As he adjusted his coat on your shoulders, he heard you mumble something. When he turned back, his face turned bright red.

“Why is it so hot?” you grumbled, fumbling with the buttons of your shirt.

“Woah, hey—don’t do that!” he yelped, grabbing your hands to stop you. “Just… just wait, I’ll turn on the AC!”

He backed away, keeping a wary eye on you as he adjusted the thermostat. When he returned, he brought a glass of water, helping you sit up to drink. “There, that’s better, hm?”

You sighed, lying back down with a soft hum of approval.

Sunghoon turned to leave, planning to sleep on the couch, but you grabbed his wrist, your eyes wide and pleading. “Hoon… stay. Please?”

His heart clenched. How could he ever say no to you?

“Alright,” he whispered, circling the bed and lying down on the other side, facing the ceiling. He felt awkward, unsure of what to do, but within moments, you shifted closer, resting your head on his chest.

He froze, his heart pounding as he felt your steady breaths against him. Slowly, he relaxed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair.

“Goodnight,” he murmured softly, his eyes fluttering shut as sleep finally claimed him.

The glow of the sun streamed through the curtains, forcing you to stir awake. The dull throbbing in your head hit as soon as you sat up, and you winced, bringing a hand to your temple.

Blinking, you took in your surroundings. The room was unfamiliar—sleek, modern, and definitely not your own. Panic began to rise in your chest as you tried to piece together the events of the previous night. You remembered the bar, the drinks, and then… nothing.

Your eyes widened as you looked down at yourself, relieved to find you were still in your clothes. But then you spotted the figure lying beside you, their back turned to you.

Oh no.

You gasped, clutching the pillow you’d been sleeping on, and without thinking, you began smacking the man’s back with it in a panic. “Who are you?! What is this?! Did we—?!”

The man bolted awake, flinching and shielding himself with his arms. “Hey! Hey! Stop!” he shouted, scrambling backward until he fell off the bed with a loud thud.

You froze mid-swing, the familiar voice cutting through your panic. Slowly, you leaned over the edge of the bed, clutching the pillow tightly.

“Sunghoon?” you whispered, your eyes wide.

He was sprawled on the floor, wincing as he rubbed the back of his head. His legs were awkwardly bent in the air, and he looked up at you with an awkward, sheepish smile. “Uh, hi.”

You let out a deep breath, sitting back on the bed. “Oh my god,” you muttered, dragging your hands down your face.

Sunghoon quickly got up, brushing himself off as he looked at you with a mix of concern and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I should’ve explained sooner. We didn’t… y’know, do anything.”

Your cheeks burned as you glanced up at him. “Are you sure?”

His ears turned bright pink as he nodded fervently. “Yes! I swear. You passed out at the bar, and I didn’t know where you lived, so I brought you here. That’s it, I promise.”

You relaxed slightly, but the tension in the room remained heavy. The silence that followed was suffocating, neither of you knowing what to say.

Finally, you broke it, your voice trembling. “Sunghoon… our relationship has to end here.”

His head snapped toward you, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What? Why?”

You avoided his gaze, staring at the sheets instead. “I’m sure you’ve seen the news. They’re dragging my brother into this, and I can’t let that happen. I can’t risk his career for my selfish desires.”

“Y/N—“

“What we had was nice,” you interrupted, your voice cracking slightly. “But it’s better for everyone if we stop seeing each other.”

He stepped closer, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You should check the tabloids again.”

You froze, your heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

Sunghoon grabbed his phone from the nightstand, quickly pulling up the articles before handing it to you. You hesitated, but as you scrolled, your breath caught.

The scandal was gone. There were no articles tearing you apart, no headlines about your brother being caught up in rumors. Instead, there were positive comments, even a few articles praising the supposed romance.

“How… how did this happen?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon sighed softly, sitting down beside you. His voice was gentle but firm. “I made it happen. I wasn’t going to let them ruin your life, or your brother’s, over something like this.”

You turned to look at him, his face close to yours. His expression was so sincere, so full of quiet determination, that it made your chest ache.

“Why would you do that?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Because I care about you,” he said simply. “And I’m not giving up on us that easily.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. Your eyes locked, and in that moment, all the fear, doubt, and guilt melted away.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing his tentatively. Sunghoon froze for a split second before responding, his hand cupping your cheek as he deepened the kiss. It was soft and slow at first, filled with all the emotions neither of you had been able to express.

But soon, the kiss grew more passionate, more desperate, as if you were both trying to make up for all the lost time and the moments you almost didn’t have. His other hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer, while your fingers tangled in his hair.

Soft sighs fell from the both of you as he laid you back on the bed. His hand exploring your body softly and slowly.

You took the chance to snake your hands below his shirt, scratching his back slightly making him shutter against you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, your voice shaky but certain. “Thank you.”

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Anything for you.”

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“Hoon, get up,” you said softly, glancing down at Sunghoon, who was sprawled across your chest like he had no intention of moving.

“Mm,” he hummed lazily, burying his face into you as if that would make you forget about work entirely.

You let out a soft laugh, stroking his hair absentmindedly. The moment your fingers ran through his dark locks, you realized you’d made a mistake—he let out a content sigh and snuggled in closer, clearly sinking even deeper into his sleepy state.

“We have to go to work,” you said, this time playfully, though your hands still gently tangled in his hair.

“I don’t want to,” he mumbled, his pout evident even though his face was tucked against you. God, he was so cute.

You smiled softly, shaking your head. “Well, we have responsibilities we can’t ignore, so you need to get up, Hoon.”

When he didn’t respond, you rolled your eyes, deciding to switch tactics. “If you get up, I’ll give you a reward,” you said, your tone light but teasing.

That did it. His head immediately shot up, his sleepy eyes now wide with interest. “What kind of reward?” he asked, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

You smirked, leaning back slightly as his head rested on your chest, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “You’ll find out if you get up,” you teased, brushing a stray lock of hair away from his face.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not entirely convinced. “That’s suspicious,” he murmured, though the corner of his lips quirked into a small smile. “Is it worth it?”

“More than worth it,” you said confidently, trying to stifle a laugh. “But you’re never going to know if you keep laying there.”

He groaned dramatically, still clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the bed. “You’re not making this easy, you know.”

“Well, you’re the one being stubborn,” you replied, gently pushing at his shoulder, though he didn’t budge.

Then, in one swift motion, he propped himself up on his elbows, his face dangerously close to yours. “Okay,” he said, his voice low and playful. “I’m up. Where’s my reward?”

Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden proximity, his teasing grin making your heart race. “Patience,” you said, trying to keep your composure. “You’re not fully up yet. Get ready for work first.”

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Hmm, that wasn’t part of the deal.”

“It’s implied,” you countered, laughing softly as you tried to push him off the bed.

But instead of moving, Sunghoon leaned even closer, his warm breath fanning over your cheeks. “I think I deserve at least a preview,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours ever so slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to glare at him, but it was impossible when his mischievous grin was so disarming. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, but before you could say anything else, he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a soft but lingering kiss.

It started playful, his lips tugging into a smile against yours, but quickly turned deeper, his hand cupping the side of your face as he kissed you with a tenderness that made your heart skip. He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, “Best reward ever.”

You rolled your eyes, still breathless. “Now get up, Hoon. Or that'll be the last one you'll ever get.”

He laughed, finally pulling himself out of bed. “Fine, fine. You’re the boss in this house.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your cheeks warm as you touched your lips. Sunghoon always had a way of turning your mornings into something unforgettable.

[thesilvertheorist]

• nsfw drabble - first time •

REQUEST: anon asked -

"five hargreeves first time hc/drabbles? 🥹"

warnings/tags: mdni (this is a smut drabble!), five's body and mind are 18+ here (don't be creepy), virgin!five, fivexfem!reader (lmk if people want a masc!reader ver.), PiV sex, unprotected sex (do as I say and not as I write - use protection!)

Masterlist

enjoy?? teehee - i'm open to doing another version of this, more like a fic, hmu for details

° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

okay so, five is obviously VERY timid when it comes to romance and intimacy on all levels... he just doesn't know what to do, like at all. he's just so clueless. he's spent years working for the commission, visiting sleazy places just to kill people who obstructed the timeline corrections. he never really knew what to make of knowing people were 'boning'. he usually gets utterly disgusted by the thought of sex - not realising that he just didn't understand what it meant if it were to happen with a partner he actually trusted to look after him...a partner he trusted to treat the delicate parts of him with care...to treat his soul with care. so when you came into his life, and your relationship began to progress, he was pleasantly surprised that the thought of sex no longer disgusted him - but ONLY if his thoughts were focused on having sex with you. he's uninterested in other people at the best of times - its obvious he's a devoted partner in all aspects.

the two of you would have had conversations about sex before, elaborating more about when it felt like the right time and when you would feel comfortable taking that extra step. five is meticulous about everything, he ensures to never overstep a single boundary of yours, not even once; just as you'd never overstep one of his. he is so deeply emotional about the fact that you treat him with respect and listen to what he's telling you. he shows that respect back a trillion times over. this, however, does not mitigate the natural progression of a human relationship. you two have hormones and urges which need answering.

the two of you will be sharing an emotionally intimate moment, holding each other and relishing in the comfort that the other brings. you'll feel five relax underneath your touch and really let that harsh outer persona drop. you bring him in for a kiss, a loving one, one that expresses deep feelings of devotion and adoration. over the course of your relationship with five, he's learned so much about how to love up on you. his once inexperienced kisses are now exactly what you need from him. his once tentatively shy hands are now planted firmly on your waist, funning themselves over your hips and up into your hair. five never really thought he'd need more than this from you...but something in him has shifted and today - he needs it.

you'd urge five to get comfortable, knowing that this is going to be much better unrushed and truly appreciated. he'd lay next to you, feeling you pull him back in for another kiss, and then another one...and another. this moment would progress until you're both left gasping for air. you'd both just explore each other with an overwhelming feeling of love, almost tearjerkingly. you'd touch him as if he were made of glass - as if he'd shatter beneath you, because he feels like he just might. every touch you give him sends shivers up his spine and blood away from his brain. he's so delicate. you'd break apart from him to caress his face, fix his hair, and lock his gaze. whilst looking at him you'd see everything he is: insecurity, obscurity, and immense bravery. he'd searching your eyes for what comes next. as he's so friggin out of his depth when it comes to anything physical...or emotional for that matter. you'd assure him that he's safe with you, peppering kisses on his face as you whisper your affirming sweet nothings over to him, feeling him begin to relax again.

five would have no idea what's next. obviously he knows the basic principles of sexual interaction...but never had he put thought into the logistics. before he could spite himself at the gross oversight, you'd interrupt his train (wreck) of thought by asking him if he wanted to keep going. he'd be completely taken aback by your question - so confused by it. had he made you feel like he didn't want to continue?? you'd see the panic start to set in and reassure him that you're asking for his sake and not yours, affirming to him that he has the option to say no. and that'd be when you clocked them...tears. five wouldn't be able to stop them, hell he wouldn't even know they were happening. he would just be so damn emotional about someone actually (wholeheartedly) giving a shit about him - enough so to give him the option to say no [five does not realise that this is the bare minimum as he's never felt love...okay carrying on], enough to ask him how HE felt.

he'd basically fall to pieces into your arms and babble endlessly about his love for you and how he wants to take this step with you - and only you. he'd want you to take care of him. you'd take his hand in yours as you began to trace down his body, removing clothing as you went, five slipping back into his shy little shell that he knows all too well. i feel like he'd need you to watch him intently to pull him back out when this happened - showering him with kisses on the places on his body he doesn't like (which is basically everywhere because he has immense dysmorphia). he'd return the favour for you, removing your clothes and instead covering you in his words of devotion and love. that's when you'd notice his inexperience come back to him. he'd have no idea on where to touch you - no clue on how to make you feel good... but you'd take his hand and (quite literally) show him.

you'd lead his hands to where you felt best - feeling his hands brush against your breasts to feel across your nipples (his mouth would water at how soft you felt and how delectable you were), you'd lead him down to your core, giving him access to your wet heat. he'd lose it when he touched you there, dropping his face into the crevice of your neck. the feeling of your slick, the warmth of your cunt...it would all overcome him and he'd endlessly run his fingers up and down your folds, committing the sensation to memory whilst also losing his brain entirely. this is where he'd need you to step in, to take the lead for this one. he's so used to having to be in complete control all the time...he'd need you to control this for him - to tell him how this is meant to go - to make sure he knew he didn't need to think through this...to let him be authentically himself.

i feel like he'd want you to cover him, he'd be on the bottom whilst you made yourself comfortable on top of him, making sure to drown him in affection as you both adjusted to the feeling of being like this with each other. five would be putty in your hands, letting you love him wherever you needed to, whenever you needed to. he'd gasp when you took his cock into your hands, stroking it gently, milking the precum from him. he'd curse his body for the eagerness of his reaction - feeling as though he may end this before he'd even got chance to start it. he'd want this to last for as long as humanly possible... he'd whine out incoherent whines of desperation as you swipe his tip across your folds, gathering letting your wetness drip down him, preparing him to enter you. he'd throw his head back when you would tease his tip at your entrance, circling it, threatening to enter and then pulling away. he'd grab at you, needing to ground himself from being sent sky high with the blood rushing through his veins.

you'd look him in the eyes as you took his hand in your own, finally allowing his tip to enter you. and he would fall to fucking pieces. he'd not break your gaze for a single second, but his mouth would be slack-jawed and he'd have no words - the only sound coming out of him would be a silent scream of pleasure at the feeling of you encasing him. you'd slide onto him slowly, letting both you and him adjust to the sensation of being joined in the closest place imaginable. once fully seated, you'd allow five to break your gaze and his head would loll back, falling limp as his breath hitched and his cock twitched inside you. you'd had an inkling that this meant that he wouldn't last long. hell, he'd have been holding it for ages already, forcing himself to hang on for this specific moment, a moment that pleased you both...a moment that pleased you.

you'd rise up slowly and feel him panic when he thinks his dick is about to fall out of you, seeing the terror in his eyes as his head snapped back up - relieved and yet astounded when you'd drop your hips back down and take him back into your cunt again. you'd see his eyebrows crease and his eyes screw shut, notice how his ribs flare and his his breath would hitch with every movement you'd make. you decide to let him feel it, to lead him through it, to let him finish.

[five beneath you, quivering with pleasure] "hhaaaah, don- don't know if i can-" "okay, five, it's okay. i've got you," you'd assure to him once again, squeezing his hand that you'd been holding since before he entered you, "it's okay, baby, let go. let it go for me, i've got you" he'd connect your lips in an urgently wet kiss, needing to feel as much of you as possible and show his love for you, breaking it only to gasp and whimper as he felt the coil inside him snap. "oh god- i love you, i love you so fucking much, can't stop, oh-" "i love you too, five... let it go for me, that's it-" you'd speak out as you felt your own pleasure rise and snap along with him, mixing your love together in the deepest part of you.

you wouldn't stop moving against him, only slowing your pace so he'd have chance to come back to his senses. he'd never want to leave you. you'd feel his cock soften slowly inside you and you'd stop moving altogether, resting against him, tangling your free hand in his sweaty hair. he'd whisper endlessly about his love for you, relishing in the fact that you - the person he adored most in the world - had just made him feel nothing short of fucking euphoric.

he'd be utterly offended when you lifted yourself up off him, attempting to summon the strength to keep you there but his muscles would certainly betray him and he'd pout about it, blood coming back up to his brain and reinstating his usual arsey attitude. he still wouldn't object to you pulling him into a close cuddle whilst you brought him back to reality. he'd wonder if he did well for you, feeling like he may have disappointed you until you'd whisper to him about how good of a job he did, laughing slightly about how he's certainly a quick study. you'd feel him release a content sigh before dropping to sleep in your arms, feeling safe, feeling loved, feeling wanted. oh and he'd definitely be all over you the next day, wanting to shower you with affection, feeling closer to you than ever before.

[forcebookish]

cher going from barely able to answer "do you like me"

to projectile crying about how much he cares for and wants to be with gun

to scolding himself for being so in love

that boy is never finding his way back

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[katsu28]

through the years

pairing: lando norris x fewtrell!reader

summary: a few glimpses into lando's journey of being in love with his best friend's sister. (5.9k) see request here!

a/n: r is three years older than max and lando. this has been a work in progress for months and was truly so so fun to write <3

sixteen

Lando’s tucking his helmet back into its protective case when he hears someone say your name.

He straightens up like he’s been electrocuted, nearly hitting his head on the shelf above him at how fast he looks up. If he had ears like a dog, they’d be perked. 

His eyes land on you chatting with someone he doesn’t recognize, and his heart skips a beat in his chest.

See, Lando has a massive crush on you, probably since before he knew what a crush was. All he knows is that you’re a few years older, his best friend’s sister, and the most perfect person he’s ever known. He’s pretty sure he’d fallen in love with you the moment he met you at one of Max’s and his races. 

But at only sixteen (nearly seventeen) years old, did he even know what love felt like?

Not really, but if Lando was being completely honest, he imagines it was the same feeling he got whenever he climbed into a kart—thrilling, exciting, a little bit of fear that he might puke. 

He hasn’t seen you in a while though. You’ve been off at university for a year now, somewhere far off, but Max had said something (read: complained) about you being home for summer break.

Lando thinks he might be more happy about it than your own brother is. 

“Hey!” Lando calls, raising a hand in greeting. You lift your sunglasses at the sound of another voice, squinting in the bright sunlight to see who’s shouting at you now. When your eyes land on him, you smile, waving back. Lando grins, one that only grows bigger as you start to make your way over to him. 

“Looked good out there today, Lan. You’re getting pretty quick on the straights,” You say on approach.

He’s had a little bit of a growth spurt this past year, so he’s no longer craning his neck to look at you, but you’ve still got quite a bit of height on him as you reach out to ruffle his hair playfully. 

“Thanks! Have you, erm, have you been here the whole time?” Lando’s voice cracks at the end of his sentence, mortifying him, but luckily you don’t seem to notice. You’re too occupied looking around the track for something, or someone. 

“Nah, I just got here, like twenty minutes ago? Mum told me to give Max a lift home.” You shrug. Lando fights the urge to let out a relieved sigh. Thank god you weren’t here to see him nearly spin out into the gravel on the last corner. That would’ve been embarrassing. “Have you seen him, by the way? I need to wring his neck.” 

A surprised honk of laughter splutters from Lando’s mouth. “What did he do now?” 

“Little shit broke one of mum’s good dinner plates and blamed it on me! S’why I’m here playing chauffeur,” You sigh, shaking your head. “Grounded during summer holidays, can you believe it? I’m basically Max’s personal shuttle, so it looks like you’re going to be seeing quite a bit of me for a while. Nightmare, innit?” 

“Not really. It’d be nice to see you around more again.” 

“You’re sweet, Lan. The punishment might be worth it to see your cute face all the time.” You wink at him, pinching his cheek gently. 

He knows you don’t mean it in the way he wants you to mean it. You still see him as just your little brother’s best friend, still a kid. But he’s older now, more mature. His voice is starting to drop, and he’s going places in his racing career by this point. He wonders if you know he’s joining McLaren’s Young Driver Programme next year. He wonders if you’d be impressed by it. 

“Hang on. I’ve got to take this, it’s my mum. Probably demanding I stop off at the shops on the way home,” You sigh, holding up your buzzing phone. “Do me a favor, be a darling and go find my idiot brother, would you?” You answered the call before he could nod, walking a ways away to talk to your mum. 

Lando remains rooted in place, watching you pace back and forth. 

“What’re you looking at?” Max pops up next to him out of the blue, bumping his shoulder rather roughly. It doesn’t phase him though, because he’s used to Max’s antics at this point. 

Instead, he sighs. “D’you think she’d ever like me?” 

“Who?” 

Lando nods his head in your direction, looking rather wistful. Max follows his friend’s line of sight until his gaze lands on you, on the phone, looking less than pleased. 

“Are you fucking with me? Please tell me you’re fucking with me,” He asks, wrinkling his nose at Lando. Even though you’re three years older than him, Max was wildly overprotective over you. Lando shakes his head. He is most definitely serious. “Mate, that’s my sister.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“That’s disgusting.” 

Lando scoffs, giving Max a shove. “You’re disgusting.” 

“So you’re telling me that every time you’ve asked me where she’s been, what she’s been up to, it’s ‘cause you fancy her?” 

“Maybe. Yeah. I think she’s amazing.” 

“I’m gonna throw up. I’m actually going to throw up, oh my god.” 

“Don’t be dramatic.” Lando rolls his eyes, picking up his things. 

“You’re hot for my sister, how am I being dramatic? I think I’m being quite calm about this.” 

“It’s nothing, really. She probably won't ever see me as anything but a little kid.” 

“Oh, you never know. You’re getting bigger, mate. Stacking on the height, packing on the muscle.” He fakes two punches to Lando’s torso, grunting overdramatically when Lando pushes him away with another roll of his eyes. “Soon enough you won’t be able to keep the ladies off you, ya stud.” 

“Thanks? You do know we’re still talking about your sister, right?” 

“Oh. Right. Yeah, still gross.” 

“Oi, Max. Let’s go or mum’ll have my head if we don’t get home by dinner,” You grumble, reappearing behind Max and shoving him upside the head. Your gaze softens when it turns on Lando. “Bye, Lan. See you soon.”

Lando manages to get out a goodbye without his voice cracking again, thank god. He wants to go in for a hug, because part of him thinks it might lift your spirits, but knows Max would never let him hear the end of it. So he just settles for a slightly awkward wave before you turn on your heel and head for the car. 

Max rolls his eyes. Then he smiles deviously, pointing at your retreating figure with one hand and Lando with the other, before smashing them both together, all while making overexaggerated kissy noises. He seems to have forgotten his previous disgust quite easily. 

“Fuck off!” Lando hisses, flipping off his friend. 

“I’ll leave you behind, Maximillian!” You warn, not even turning around to threaten your brother. Max rolls his eyes again, but doesn't hesitate in hurrying after you so you won't leave him stranded at the track. 

Lando manages to catch your eye once as you’re pulling out of the car park and he waves again, trying but probably failing to stifle the goofy grin spreading across his face at the wave you gave him back. 

God, he’s so down bad for you. 

That year, however, the months went on, Lando found himself noticing that you came home less and less often, and not even for school breaks the following year. Max wouldn’t talk about it, but it was obvious it was somewhat of a sore subject, so Lando never pushed.

He’d always wondered what happened, but soon enough, his life became far too hectic to sit around thinking about all the what if’s and the why not’s. All he could do was hope you were doing okay. 

-------

twenty

It’s hard to believe Max is turning twenty-one.

So will Lando, later in the year, but for now he remains a very youthful looking twenty years old. 

Max invites a handful of people to a quiet dinner, nothing too flashy, nothing too fancy. Just a nice dinner with close friends and good food. His birthday sits right between race weeks, so Lando is fortunate enough to be able to carve out an evening for his best friend. 

Now he’s sitting at the end of a long table, sipping a lemon sparkling water as the first few of their friends start to trickle in. He’d arrived unfashionably early under the guise of offering to help Max iron out last minute details, set up, things like that.

In reality, the reason why he’d turned up so early was you. 

Lando doesn’t know if Max invited you, and if he did, he doesn’t know if you’d actually come. But on the off chance that you do choose to make an appearance, Lando wants to be the first one to see you. 

Naturally, he spots you the second you walk in, and he’s instantly transported back to when he was an awkward teenager, pathetically pining over his best friend’s sister with absolutely no shot.

Hell, he’s still pining over you. He thought whatever feelings he had for you would’ve faded over the years, but one look at you and everything comes rushing back. 

He thought he’d prepared himself for this, for seeing you again, but one thing that rises above all the other thoughts flooding his brain is that he’s not over you. Not by a long shot. 

He watches you make your way over to your brother and hug him. You lean in close to say something into his ear, and suddenly you’re both looking directly at him.

Lando startles, nearly spilling his drink, but he manages to compose himself quickly. That swoopy feeling he used to get whenever you made your way over to him is back in full swing again. He scrambles to his feet. 

“Hey, Lan!” You greet him keenly, wrapping him in a warm hug. Your perfume washes over him as you do, and he fights the urge to sigh happily. You still wear the same one you always did. He remembers because he’d more or less conditioned himself to associate the nice scent with you. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” 

Lando chuckles breathlessly, praying you’re not able to feel how fast his heart is beating through his shirt. “Too long.” 

You pull away, holding him at arms’ length, studying him with bright eyes. “You’re taller than me now.” 

“I’d hope so. M’not sixteen anymore.” 

“No, you’re not. You look good though, ” You say. You look like you mean it truthfully. 

“How’ve you been?”

“Been better, but I’m…getting by, all things considered.” You shrug, sliding into the chair next to him.

Both of you swing sideways to face each other at the same time, knees knocking into each other as you do. You share an apologetic smile. Your hand blankets his where it rests on the table, squeezing a few times as your eyes light up with excitement. 

You aren’t aware of just how much that one little move affects Lando. 

“But what about you, McLaren’s newest Formula One driver? That’s so amazing. Seriously. I’m proud of you.”  

He’s heard the compliment loads during his rookie year, but hearing it come from you makes his cheeks flush pink. He can feel the comfort of your words spreading from his face into his chest, tendrils of warmth wrapping around his rib cage. You’re proud of him, and it feels like he’s just won the world championship. 

“Thank you,” He squeaks. 

“I always knew you’d do great things.” 

“You’ve been keeping up with my career?” 

“‘Course I have,” You say warmly, nodding like it’s obvious. “It’s not everyday you can say you’ve known one of the up and coming talents of Formula 1 since you were kids.” 

“We’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we?” 

“You, yeah. Me…well, let’s just say I’m still trying to figure things out.” 

“You’re doing the best you can, aren’t you? Shouldn’t that be all that matters?” 

“I suppose you’re right. Thank you, Lan. I needed to hear that.” 

Silence stretches between the two of you, and Lando feels the need to break it. 

“Y’know, I didn't know if you’d come. Since…y’know, whatever’s been going on all this time.” He doesn’t mean to prod, doesn’t mean it as anything other than him drawing a huge blank about why you haven’t been around. 

Your expression still grows somber, brows creasing ever so slightly. “Max hasn’t told you anything?” 

“Seemed like a sore subject, so I never pushed.” 

“You must have a lot of questions then.” You murmur, tracing an idle finger over the pristine white table cloth. “About why I’ve been basically nonexistent for years.” 

“I don't need to know. You’re here now, that's all that matters.” 

“Y’know, you’ve always been so thoughtful, Lando. When we were all kids and Max was being…well, Max, you were always looking out for me, even though you didn’t have to.” 

“I cared about you. Still do.” 

It’s true. Lando cares about you in more ways than one, in more ways than just your little brother’s best friend should, but it isn’t something that he can help. You’ve still got him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. 

“So sweet.” You smile, squeezing his hand appreciatively, and Lando feels like he’s just been shown a new purpose. He wants to be the one to make you smile like this all the time, something he’s known in his heart for years. “So, tell me more about you. What’s it like in the big leagues?” 

You wind up spending all night glued to each other’s side, filling one another in on what’s been going on in your lives since the last time you saw each other. Granted, it’s a bit more of him doing most of the talking with you on the listening end, but he gets the sense you’d rather have it that way. 

He’ll gladly talk for hours if it meant you looking at him with the pride in your eyes you’ve had the whole night. 

Eventually, the party rolls to an end, as all good nights unfortunately do. Lando wants to stay here, stay with you, but he can’t. He’s got an early morning and a day full of training tomorrow, so he’ll settle for walking you to your car after you’ve both said goodbye to Max. 

You’ve got your arm looped through his as you make your way out of the restaurant with the rest of the dinner guests. 

“This one’s me.” You jut your chin at the car coming up. If Lando isn’t mistaken, you almost sound kind of sad, but maybe he’s just looking too much into things because he doesn't want to leave. You leave his side, putting a little bit of distance between the two of you. “Thank you for keeping me company all night, Lando. It was really nice to see you again.” 

“Likewise. I’ve…” He trails off into an airy chuckle, shoulders creeping towards his shoulders instinctively. For a moment, he wonders if he should even say anything. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” You say softly, giving him a small smile. Lando feels his chest tighten at the sincerity in your tone. Then you step forward and wrap your arms around his neck in a hug and suddenly he’s just about ready to melt as his arms slide around you to return the embrace. 

He isn’t expecting your lips against his cheek, or the way they linger a little longer than to be expected before you step away again. Heat blooms where you kiss him, zipping through his veins like the thrill of pushing the highest speed down the home straight towards the checkered flag. 

“Don’t forget about me when you get to be a big hot shot in the racing world,” You say, only slightly teasing. 

“Don’t think I could.” 

He watches you get into your car and drive away, hands in his pockets, wishing he was brave enough to tell you how he feels about you. Some other time, maybe. One day he’ll muster up the confidence to say something. 

-------

twenty four

No matter how many times Lando comes home to race at Silverstone, the feeling never goes away.

A mix of joy, pride, the unmistakable vice-like grip of anxiety. Lando is excited, no doubt, but all he wants to do is make his home crowd proud. His family is here, his friends are here. Everyone is counting on him to do something amazing.

He’s got a hundred things to do before he has to head down to the garage to gear up, a methodical mental checklist to get through in not a lot of time.

Buzzing with nervous energy, he paces the top level of the motorhome, amping himself up while also trying to calm himself down. He’s barely managed to eat anything all day, as evident by the basically untouched chicken wrap sitting on the table next to him. 

Sure, he’s raced at Silverstone before, but this is the first year he actually has a shot at winning the whole thing. The car has proved to be a speed demon, and he’s been killing it this season, but neither of those help his nerves. 

It makes his stomach twist more than anything. It’s one thing to not win because he doesn't have the facilities to do it, it's entirely worse to know he can win and still let everyone down. 

“Well, if it isn’t little Lando Norris.” 

He freezes at the unexpected voice. Your voice.

His mind flashes back to the last time he saw you, at Max’s birthday party. How you talked all night, and kissed him on the cheek before you parted ways. 

It’s been three years since then, and you’ve stayed in close touch with each other, but you haven’t seen each other in person since that night. It isn’t either of your faults—life got in the way and neither of yours lined up. Nonetheless, he’s grown closer to you these past few years than he ever has, which definitely doesn’t help the massive crush he still has on you. 

Part of him thinks he really needs to move on—he’s been in love with you for so many years he doesn’t even remember the exact number, but his feelings remain the same. Any relationship he’s tried to have, just to see if he could ever love someone else, has never lasted.

Lando thinks he might be stuck on you his whole life, if the entirety of his teenage years and first few of his young adult years have been any indication. 

He’s very prone to wanting things he can’t have, it seems. 

Lando gives his head a shake because it couldn’t be you. You couldn’t be here, because last he heard from Max, you were somewhere out of the country on a work trip and wouldn’t be able to make it to Silverstone for the race. It’s a bummer for sure, but Lando knows you would've come if you could. Max told him you sounded downright upset about it on your check in call earlier in the week to break the news. 

He turns slowly, hesitantly. Hopefully. His fingers tighten on the water bottle he’s got clutched in his hands. 

There you are, looking back at him like something straight out of his dreams. 

You’re older now, as he is too, but there’s something different about you. About how you hold yourself. Like you've finally settled into the person you were meant to be. It isn’t something he could’ve clocked in on through texts and grainy video calls, but he sees it now, clear as day. 

“Hi.” 

“You’re here,” He breathes, disbelieving. He isn’t able to stop himself from rushing forward, bringing you into a very tight, very excited hug that lifts you off your feet.

You let out a surprised noise at his enthusiasm, barely managing to hook an arm over around his shoulders so you wouldn’t go flailing as he spins you around.

He puts you down soon after, still beaming as he takes you in. “How are you here? I thought—Max said you were on a work trip!” 

“I asked him to keep it a secret,” You chuckle, spreading a palm across his chest to steady yourself. “Wanted to surprise you for your home race. Hope that’s okay?” 

“More than okay! It’s so good to see you again,” He insists, folding you into another, albeit much quicker hug. He holds you at arm's length right after. “You look really good.” 

“I feel good,” You say sincerely. “Think I’m finally getting the hang of this whole life thing.” 

“That’s amazing. I’m proud of you for pushing through, sticking it out,” Lando murmurs, just as genuine. There’s nothing better than seeing you finally find a good place, happy with where you are and what you’re doing. It’s all he’s ever wanted for you. 

“Thank you. But oh my god, look at you!” You exclaim, taking his face in your hands. You pinch his cheeks the same way you used to do, but the way you’re looking at him feels much different than before.

There’s something that isn’t quite the same, like something about what you think of him has changed. The thought burrows its way deeper into his brain when one hand slides down to his chest for a few beats.

“You’ve grown up quite a bit again, haven’t you?” 

He laughs, a little high pitched and a little breathless. “Yeah well, you know what they say about second puberty.” 

“Still got the same cute laugh though.” You smile at him brightly, and it's like the sun has just poked its way through the dreary British fog for the first time in ages. His heart does an involuntary tap dance against his ribcage. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to it then. Sorry if I, like, disturbed your pre-race rituals or anything, I just wanted to pop in and say hi before things get crazy.” 

“No, no, I’m glad you did. I think I needed to see a familiar face. Between you and me, I’m kinda freaking out.” 

“Oh, Lan,” You sigh, squeezing his hand. “You’re gonna do great.”

“Hope so.” 

“You will,” You insist firmly. “Don’t think about the people, don’t think about the crowd. Just trust your gut, and drive like hell.” 

Lando didn’t know it before, but your words are exactly the thing he needs right now. He sighs deeply, letting his shoulders relax just the slightest bit. 

“Anyways, I better go. Max is probably wondering where I’ve wandered off to.” 

He clears his throat, giving his head a little shake. “Yeah, I should—I probably need to get going as well.” 

“Good luck, be safe, all that. I’ll be the loudest one cheering you on.” 

Lando hears himself call out your name when you’re a few steps away from the door. You turn back to him, and he knows this is the moment. He’s about to do something he’s never had the balls to do before, never in the nine years he’s been in love with you. Only today, right here, he’s never felt more sure of himself. 

He’s trusting his gut. 

“Would you wanna grab a drink tonight? Dinner too, if you’re up for it?” 

“Yeah, ‘course! I’ll text my brother, see if he’s free.” 

“No,” He blurts. You arch a surprised brow at his sudden outburst. “Sorry, I just—I meant like, maybe just the two of us.” 

You’re quiet for a few moments, and it feels like the longest couple seconds of his life. But then you nod, breaking into a big grin. “I’d really like that.”

Lando doesn’t want to get his hopes up in fear of possibly jinxing it, but it feels like maybe, just maybe, he might have a chance with you. After all these years, he’s no longer just a little kid to you, no longer just your little brother’s best friend.

The thought of that pumps him up better than a race in front of his home crowd ever could.

-------

twenty five

He’s done it. 

Lando's just won in Abu Dhabi, gotten his fourth win of his career—his fourth win of the season. McLaren has just won the constructor’s championship for the first time in twenty six years, and Lando’s been an instrumental part in making it happen. 

The moment he steps out onto the front of the car, hears the crowd cheering for him, he can barely even believe it. It doesn’t feel real at all. 

He wants to find you. He knows you’re here somewhere, probably with his family in the garage. He also knows he doesn’t have the time to find you, not until after he’s taken care of his post race duties. 

Lando doesn't see you until he returns to the pit lane in front of the McLaren garage.

The whole team is gathered there, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. He can feel the energy buzzing through the atmosphere, the pure excitement and joy of a long awaited championship not only for everyone here, but the whole team of papaya back at the factory too. 

This is their time as much as it is his, if not even more. They’re the reason he’s able to live this dream every single day, and for that, he’ll never be able to say enough thank yous. 

Instead, he’ll work even harder next season, keep pushing and honing his craft until he’s able to truly show his gratitude towards them. 

But for now, he’ll celebrate. After a long, grueling (but fulfilling) season, he’s earned that. 

He breaks into a jog towards the huddle, breaking into a face-splitting grin as he jumps into the team celebrations happily. Person after person clap him on the back on his way to his place beside the giant papaya sign, even after the team photo is taken and he gets doused by champagne from all sides. 

Lando feels like a million bucks. This feeling has been a long time coming, a long time needed. If he could bottle it up and save it forever, he would. 

There’s only one thing that could make this moment even better. 

He turns to the crowd behind the barriers, searching, searching, searching for his loved ones until— 

There you are, standing with his family just as he’d thought you’d be, cheering so hard he thinks you might even be crying. 

Man, are you a sight for sore eyes. You’ve both been busy the past few weeks, him with this triple header and you with your job. You’d barely made it to this race, but he’s happy you’re here. Even happier you were here to see him win. 

He makes his way towards you all, doling out hugs to everyone, not able to wipe the smile from his face as he chats with each of them. 

His parents, his sister, and finally…you. 

You’re beaming just as big as he is when he stops in front of you, flinging your arms around his neck in the tightest hug. He lets out a sigh of content, lifting you off your feet a bit in a hug just as tight, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he does so. 

“Hi, baby,” He breathes, running his hands down from your shoulders to your forearms as soon as he puts you down again. “What’d you think?” 

“What do I think?” You exclaim, taking his face in your hands. “I think you did amazing! I think I’ve cried, like, four times already since the race ended, honestly.” 

He laughs, wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “I made you cry?” 

“Yeah, you made me cry, you muppet! I’m so fucking proud of you,” You tell him, sounding nothing but truly sincere. There’s tears in your eyes again, happy tears for him, and he feels a surge of adoration bloom in his chest. “Congratulations, Lan. You’re destined for so much greatness, I know it.” 

He’s sweaty, sticky, and doused in champagne, but he still feels on top of the world at the joy in your eyes.

“I love you,” He blurts. He couldn’t have stopped the words spilling from his mouth even if he tried. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe it’s knowing there’s no better time than the present, but it’s out there now. The past five months you’ve been dating have been absolutely mint, but Lando doesn’t think he could’ve gone another moment without telling you. 

You let out a watery sort of chuckle, sliding a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and bringing him in for a kiss.

You’ve kissed before—a lot, actually—but this one feels different. Better. The giant secret that he’s been holding in from you for years and years is finally out, and it’s like a weight lifted off his chest. 

“I love you too, Lan,” You murmur, words pressed against his lips like they're something reserved only for him. “God, I love you.” 

There goes his heart right then, the last piece of his heart that he’d saved for the day he wasn’t sure would ever come. The last piece of his heart that belonged to him now belongs to you, and in this moment, you’ve got all of it. 

All of Lando’s heart is now yours. 

Lando didn’t think this day could get any better, but now there’s this. The woman of his dreams, the one he’s been in love with since you were both kids, finally loves him back.

He’s not sure what heaven is like, but Lando imagines it might be something like this.

Here, under the Abu Dhabi sky, he’s gotten the championship, he’s finally gotten his girl. To him, there’s nothing better than it. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

[gojoest]

CRAZY ABOUT YOU — gojo satoru

tw: MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, pregnancy (reader is expecting), established relationship (you’re married), pregnancy freak!satoru, semi-public sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, love, sweetheart), very very brief mention of somno & oral f receiving, reader wears a dress, he’s a freak, not proofread, wc: 2.4k

synopsis: your husband fucks you during one of your prenatal visits

your husband is a freak, you know that. but what you didn’t know was how big of a one he could be, for you. you found out — when you became pregnant with his child.

when satoru found out that you’re carrying his child — because he did before you, saw it with his six eyes — he fucked you differently. with a primal urge unheard of, like a man that’s impregnated his wife and is now claiming her again, confirming the fact that you belong to him by slamming it deep inside you. after the fifth (?) orgasm he dragged out of you that night, you asked him through a weary chuckle — “huh, where did this come from?” — and his answer began with a motion of his fingers hugging his balls — “it came from here…”, followed by his other hand caressing your belly “…and went there”, while slowly leaning in to meet your lips, “and i might just lose my mind because, baby — you’re pregnant”

a rather unconventional way to find out you’re pregnant.

if he had any semblance of decency in him before (which is rather questionable) and could keep his hands to himself (to some extent) during certain times and in certain places, it is completely off the table now.

when he wants you, you will know; others around will know it, too. he doesn’t shy away from making it obvious, or more so he doesn’t care if other people notice. what’s there to be embarrassed about? after all, you’re a couple, you do things. it’s only natural. and that pretty baby bump is the perfect proof of it. in all honesty, it gets him off when others know that he’s about to fuck his beautiful pregnant wife once he takes her home.

he's a freak like that, it can’t be helped. even more so now with the way your skin glows differently, with the way you smell, the way you carry yourself and the way your body is undergoing the natural changes as the pregnancy progresses that he finds so beautiful. it all messes with his head. brings out the real freak in him that can no longer keep his urges at bay, not when knowing that he himself brought this upon you. it makes you so undeniably his, for everyone to see and acknowledge. his chest swells with pride…

…but sometimes pride also gives way to greed, to a freakish desire for more of you.

during the rare times you go about to shower without him, he slips into the bathroom. sits on the toilet seat and starts jerking off to you, watching your swollen belly and breasts, moaning loud and clear for you to come to his aid. sometimes you wake up to him holding your hand wrapped around his cock, rubbing himself into your palm, audible pants seeping from his lips as he slowly lifts the hem of your shirt (his shirt that you wear to sleep) — preparing to splatter his load on your pregnant belly; or alternatively, you open your eyes to his face buried between your legs, devouring you like a starved animal… other times, as you make dinner in the kitchen, tenderizing the meat with the mallet on the counter, he comes from behind and presses his hard-on against your ass, shamelessly asking “would you mind beating my meat, too, baby?”

and when you go about to scold him, call him a jerk, a perv, a freak, insufferable while hitting his chest — playfully, because you secretly like it when he can’t contain himself around you — he blames you for it. tells you that you’ve severed him so abysmally that he’s having a hard time now keeping it soft around you (he’s not lying). that you broke him and should take responsibility for it. chuckles fill the room and mix in between your kisses that later turn into breathy moans and pants mixed in between countless of i love you’s and you’re mine and mine only’s.

but sometimes, such as today, he takes things a bit too far…

like,

—you can’t simply fuck your wife during one of the prenatal visits just because the doctor left the examination room for a bit and your dick is rock-hard from seeing your wife’s belly out in the open.

“you have to be kidding me”, you raise your brows in absolute surprise as you watch your husband unbuckle his pants, “now? HERE?”

“please?”, he looks at you, cheeks flushed and eyes of a pleading puppy.

you knew he was up to something from the glint in his eyes as he kept staring at your exposed belly earlier, completely transfixed, only his eyes following the ultrasound probe as the doctor pressed it over your tummy.

“the doctor’s going to come any moment, you know right?”, you try to confirm he is aware that this can go very wrong.

“yes, but so am i — you don’t want me walking around in cum drenched pants, right?”, he purses his lips into a pout, one that’s obviously fake (but it works on you, even if you refuse to admit it).

“it’s not like you’ve never done it before”, you mock.

“that was only one time”, he pouts (this one’s not a fake), “okay, maybe two or three times, but it happens even to the best” (it was more than two or three times)

“aha”

“oi. whose fault do you think it was? you make a man go crazy. i mean, look at me right now, just look — i am standing here with my dick almost out for you, in the doctor’s office”

“so you realize this is absolutely crazy but still you won’t pack your dick away?”

“no, i will not. i’ll die if i don’t get to fuck you this instant. and i mean it, it hurts so much. and the authorities will suspect you did it, you know. because it’s always the wives anyway…..and they won’t be wrong about it”

“you’re hopeless, satoru”, you sigh, giving him a roll of your eyes.

but still, leaning on your elbows you slowly rise yourself from the examination table and sit at the edge of it, removing the towel covering your thighs. spreading your legs for him, you think that you really made the right choice to wear a dress today — less in the way for your husband and another one of his “if i don’t get to fuck my wife, i’ll die” episodes.

“i am”, he saunters over to you, biting his lower lip at the sight of your thighs and the beautiful belly hanging in between, “but i can’t help it when you’re so pretty for me like this, i go crazy”

and fuck, if it doesn’t make you wet the way he looks at you right now as he stops to stand between your open thighs, invading your space with such ease because that’s where he belongs to be. all the signs hint at that, too — the ring on your finger, the baby in your belly and the wetness dripping from your cunt, ready to welcome him in.

“yea, you really do”, you pull the front of his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, earning a low hiss from him upon your hand making contact with it.

“all because of you”, he places his hands under your ass and slightly pulls you to himself. you’re immediately met with where he’s hard, it’s poking and rubbing against your belly.

a moan crawls up his throat and breaks out into a satisfied groan. part of him wants to cum just like this — by rubbing himself against your belly. but god, you smell so good down there that it shifts his desire. now that he’s so close to you — standing right in front of your doors — he can smell it so much better. your scent wafts up from your heat and goes straight to his nostrils, letting his brain register in the most primal of ways that your body is ready for him.

you know he’s noticed the dampness of your panties by the way his smile’s faded into a grin, you can smell yourself in the air around you, too.

“fuck, baby…can cum from this alone, you know? rubbing myself on that pretty belly that i made on you”, satoru whispers as he leans forward to take your mouth into his. his lips are loaded with such intensity that they suck the air from your lungs, leave you moaning into his mouth. the grip he’s got on your ass tightening, his fingers digging into your flesh. “but that won’t do now, so hold on tight”

you comply in silence, wrapping your hands around his neck as he lifts you up just enough to peel your panties down to your thighs, then sits you up again and drags them down your legs and onto the floor.

“just so you know—if someone comes before i do, i’ll just keep fucking you”, he grins at you as he positions himself back between your legs. his words might sound like a joke, an exaggeration of some sort to make it clear how much he wants you right now, but you know better than anyone that he’s pretty serious about it.

“then hurry up, you freak”

his fingers swipe over your cunt — to confirm that you are indeed as ready as your scent gives away — and collect your arousal before rubbing it all over the length of his throbbing cock, mixing your wetness with his vigorously leaking pre.

“open them a little bit more for me, baby”, he coaxes, hands back on your thighs, tapping softly on your skin as a signal to spread them just a little bit more and give him way. you lean back on your hands and push your legs open as much as you can. the motion causing your belly to bump against his cock, squishing it between the two of you, pressing it against his stomach.

“s-shit, baby”, he hisses at the sensation, his body jerks a little and his hips buck forward, against your belly, to deepen the friction, “i can really cum from just rubbing it on you….fuck, that’s crazy”, he laughs.

but satoru stops himself.

his hand moves away from you to get a hold of his cock and help it against your entrance, pushing the head towards your folds before slowly sinking in the entirety of it, bottoming out in you from the very start. there’s no time to waste and he’s got no patience left in him, once he’s in — he’s going all the way.

“nghh, s-satoru”, you whimper at his needy intrusion, but swallow him so easily that your wetness starts to spurt out as he’s starting to dart in and out, trickling down the crack of your ass and dripping onto the examination table.

“fuck, love…look at the way you take me”, he breathily chuckles, head thrown back as he picks up the rhythm of his thrusts, “and you call me crazy, huh…haha, fuck, f-fuc-k” — if his voice was a tad bit louder just now and could keep a steady note, he would’ve sounded maniacal.

“s-shut up….don’t compare me to yourself”, you protest, trying to deny the fact you want him just as bad but the way your walls clench around him proves the other way around. you become who you surround yourself with. he’s crazy to do this to you here of all places. and you’re just as much crazy to let him have his way with you.

you suck him in so deep that his body, caught off guard, jerks and bucks forward. it makes him forget where he starts and where he ends. he wants to let go but also to never stop, he’s fighting so hard but it’s a battle he’s slowly losing. as his pace is growing faster his thrusts are getting sloppier. “shit”, he curses under his breath. his balls are sizzling and he wants to bust so bad but not before he makes you cum.

the tension, the pulsing of his cock and the ridges of his throbbing veins — you can feel them like a heartbeat inside of you, and each time he slams against that sweet spot your clit responds with a beat of its own.

you try to hold your voice back but pants leave through your parted lips as you gasp for air.

“nghh, ’toru…’m gonna cum”, you whimper incoherently as you throw your head back, eyes shut close.

“yea? go on, baby—cum for me. come on, sweetheart—i’ll help you out”, he breathes.

his hands grabbing onto the plush of your thighs with a deadly grip, pulling you closer to help fuck himself into you better. the bottom of your belly is flat against his rock-hard abdomen now and he keeps it that way while ramming himself inside you, rubbing his cock around your sensitive walls, without pulling out. over and over until you squirm and come undone. face grimacing in pleasure and hips jerking from the electrifying sensation as you keep chanting “fuck, fuck, fuck” under your breath as quietly as possible so your voice doesn’t make it past the walls of the examination room for others — doctors, nurses and patients — to hear.

you glance your eyes to him, all disheveled and sweaty as his hips live through the last few thrusts left in them before he implodes inside of you. you hear him grumble how he’s about to fill you up while peering at you with a desperate face.

“f-fuck”, he growls throatily, charging one last time into you before spurting his load inside you. his body shudders from the release he’s been holding back. and he’s pouring too much, his heat spilling and filling your insides. you can feel it all — he’s making a frothy mess of your cunt.

it takes a few seconds after he’s done pouring his seed that his body reigns back control and he stops shuddering. he then looks at you.

“if i pull out now it’ll all spill out, you know? so maybe we should stay—?”

“no.”, you dryly interrupt. “don’t force our luck. put that thing away before someone comes and help me put my panties on”

“but it’ll spill out”, he insists.

“i’ll hold it in, don’t worry”

“oh? you know just the thought alone is doing inhumane things to me all over again, right?”

“satoru. don’t you dare.”

[suiana]

(yandere! doctor x gn! patient) (cw: nsfw, yandere stuff, drugging, bribery, dubcon?)

your doctor is a little weird, you think.

he's a nice guy, yeah. does his work well, always smiling and constantly reassuring you that nothing's wrong with you. sending you off with a nice pat on the back as he emails you your prescription yet again.

but he's nowhere near professional.

his hands linger on your body far longer than what would be considered appropriate. eyes dark and unreadable as you tell him about your lovely significant other that's waiting for you outside of his office. how he'd try and talk bout his own life in an attempt to get you to stay in his office more...

if anything, he acts more like a possessive boyfriend than your doctor.

though you suppose he's just a little eccentric like that. he's a reputable doctor. everyone loves him, and so do you! he's treated you numerous times and his checkups are always so thorough. surely you can just let his... odd behaviour slide.

today you're coming in for a body checkup. lately you've been feeling dizzy and warm despite it being the middle of winter. you wonder if it's because you've gotten ill or someone's poisioning you. after all, there's been some weird holes in your arm whenever you wake up lately.

your excellent doctor has scheduled you in at 4.30 in the afternoon. he was busy earlier today, he says. you understand, he's a busy doctor. your spouse hasn't ended their shift yet so you came in alone. they haven't been answering your texts since they left home earlier today. you can only hope that they've been busy, you'll ask them when they come home.

entering his office, you are met with his polite smile and his melodious voice.

"please sit."

you obey, sitting down in the seat in front of him as you fiddle with your fingers. your doctor looks rather... distracted today. his usually tidy hair is a mess, his glasses wet as though they had just been cleaned.

"it seems that you are feeling warm and under the weather. do you have any other symptoms, my dear?"

"yes... i've been feeling rather..."

you pause, not knowing how to say it.

"aroused?"

you nod. your doctor seems to know you so well.

he hums, going back to his screen before putting on a pair of medical gloves and gesturing for you to lay down on the bed nearby. you oblige. hopefully he'll figure out what's going on with your body.

he starts off normally, prodding and pressing against certain areas of your body. you answer accordingly when he asks you whether they hurt, whether you feel weird or not. it's like any other medical examination.

"so how's your lover been?"

small talk. you realize he's always been a big fan of small talk. asking about your life, humming and smiling as he replies with answers about his own life too. sometimes he says something personal about your life, like how you go shopping on saturdays with your lover or how you sleep with the lights off. you wonder how he knows, is he stalking you? but you shake your head at the thought. you must've told him and forgot.

"they've been... fine. haven't texted me back yet unfortunately."

"mn, i see."

silence washes over the two of you as he continues prodding and touching you. his touches linger, soft and almost as though he was yearning to touch you even more. his tone of voice was nonchalant, like he didn't care.

you feel slightly uncomfortable.

"um..."

"hm?"

"i-i... i guess i'm worried about them. ever since they went out to work in the morning they haven't replied..."

"i am aware."

you remain quiet after that, pursing your lips as you ignore the way his touches have you growing progressively more turned on. you figure it must be a side effect of your condition.

"my dear, can you tell me what you feel what i touch you here?"

"huh? w- h-hey..."

you let out a soft moan as his gloved hands caress your clothed thighs. calm down, he says. it's just a part of the examination. you shudder slightly, squeezing your eyes shut. you feel the warmth in you grow as he continues to gently caress your thighs.

he's right, it's just a medical examination. he wouldn't touch you like that. plus, you have a significant other already. you shouldn't be feeling like this because of his touches. it's wrong.

you exhale shakily, fluttering your eyes open as you stare at him.

"i-it feels nice..? it makes the warmth worse, doc."

"i see... what about over here?"

you let out a gasp, eyes widening so wide you were sure they'd pop out of your skull. where... were his hands touching? surely you're dreaming?

but you weren't. when you looked down, you could clearly see his hands on your nether regions, gently groping and caressing the area.

"w-what are you-"

"i am merely testing to see which parts of your body react to my touch. please do not worry, my dear. this is all medical procedure."

"but it's my-"

"shh... i know. does it feel good? what do you feel?"

you shiver under his touch, whimpering softly as you try sitting up. were you overthinking it? he's just your doctor. this is part of the examination, it's fine.

yet you feel as though his touches have a deeper and more sinister meaning behind them.

"please don't-"

"why not? i've seen your significant other touch you like this multiple times. you've always reacted wonderfully under their touch."

"h-huh?"

your doctor pauses, eyes widening slightly before he lets out a chuckle. his hands continue palming and caressing your privates, almost as though he was... toying with you. with every touch you feel yourself getting more and more worked up, cheeks flushing even more.

"oh dear, i haven't told you have i? i've been keeping a close eye on you... i thought you'd have figured it out by now. your lover certainly has."

you squeeze your eyes shut as his touch, your mind growing fuzzy. what.. did he say? you can't quite understand... all you can feel is how bothered you're getting and how you want him to touch you even more.

"i am pleasantly surprised with how well you are reacting to my touch. i never expected you to react so positively to the drug."

"d-drug? ah... no... don't grope me like that..."

he continues palming at your clothed privates, a calm smile on his face. you can faintly make out the way his cheeks were turning red and the hardening of his pants.

"right, i did tell them not to tell you... my dear, your significant other has left you."

"no... what are you... talking about doc? hah... how would you know anyway..?"

"oh, because i told them to. i gave them some money a few months back and they've been working for me up until... today."

if you were a little more sober, you would've pushed him away and ran for your phone. unfortunately, the aphrodisiac you had been injected with last night has reduced you into a needy thing desperate for his touch.

"what did you do-"

"well my dear, didn't you notice the injection marks in your arm? your significant other had been administering you with tiny dosages of this particular drug i've given them. it's supposed to make you feel good."

"g-good..?"

you hear your doctor chuckle, his hands moving away from your sensitive parts. only to quickly undo the buckle of your pants and slip his hand down on your newly exposed skin.

your breath hitches, hips instictively bucking against his hand as you let out a low whine. you can't think anymore. your brain is so muddled with feeling good that you aren't even worried or disgusted by what he's saying. all you want is him, him, him. he makes you feel good.

"yes my love, good. aren't you feeling good right now?"

"mn mhm!"

you nod your head eagerly as his hands gently toy with your sex, rubbing and fondling you gently. he continues smiling down at you, pleasuring you with his fingers before pulling away. you whimper, face hot and red as you desperately try and pull him back. why would he do that? he was just making you feel so good...

"haha, you want me to continue touching you?"

you nod again. your doctor grins widely at your words, taking off his gloves before you hear the clink of his belt hit the floor.

"well, i suppose i'll get on with my second part of the medical examination now then."

[munsonsmixtapes]

Can I Ask You a Question?

Eddie Munson x reader

You invite Eddie to hang out and he has a very important question for you

based on this ask

The door to your bedroom opens and as soon as you’re about to turn to see who it is, you feel the bed dip beside you, Eddie now lying on his stomach in the same position you are, feet up and everything. He’s kicking his legs back and forth as he takes the magazine you’re reading from you. He notices that you’re doing one of those quizzes to see who your perfect boyfriend would be and decides that he wants to be yours.

He’s felt this way for a while now but lying here with you as he looks into your eyes, he’s sure. He just doesn’t know how to get the words to come out. He’s not a shy guy so he doesn’t know why he can’t just ask. 

He sets the magazine down on the bed and begins to spin one of his rings around his finger as a way to take away some of that anxiety and it does help, but only for a little bit. You can sense his unease and the two of you sit up before you pull Eddie’s hands into your lap. 

The weight on his shoulder instantly lessens as you hold his hands, that soft smile making its way upon your lips that he’s come to adore. Suddenly, everything feels so easy. Because it is. You make him feel like he can do anything, like the sky is the limit. You’ve shown him that he’s no longer Eddie “the freak” Munson and that no one’s opinion about him matters but his own. 

He loves hanging out with you as friends, but being your boyfriend would be that much better. He wants to kiss you and hold you and tell you how much you mean to him in a romantic sense. He wants to be able to compliment you without having to subtly flirt, to just tell you how pretty he thinks you are whenever you want.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks before nibbling on his bottom lip. His heart is hammering in his chest as he takes a deep breath, the anticipation of your answer getting to him. He knows that there’s very much a chance of getting rejected and that terrifies him. He doesn’t want his feelings to ruin what the two of you have. 

“Of course you can,” you let out a chuckle as you reach forward, one of your hands threading through his hair, giving his scalp a scratch the way you know he likes. His eyes flutter closed at the feeling, but he quickly shakes his head, hating how quickly he’s able to lose focus. 

“I-I was wondering if…” he takes a deep breath, trying to focus on the way you’re playing with his hair and not how fast his heart is beating. 

You stay quiet, waiting for him to say what he needs to. You’re perfectly fine with being patient as you know how hard it can be for him to voice his feelings. You watch him breathe deeply and then he shakes his head, trying to get back on track. 

“I was wondering if I could be your boyfriend.” His warm honey eyes bore into yours, progressively softening as the seconds pass and for a moment, you swear you can see hearts forming in them. 

The room goes silent as soon as the words leave his mouth. You aren’t sure what you were expecting Eddie to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. But can’t help but smile as you give his hand a squeeze, a light laugh passing through your lips. 

“I’d love for you to be my boyfriend, Eddie,” you tell him as a grin spreads out over your face and his quickly matches yours as he pushes you so your back is flat to the bed, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. He does it over and over until they all melt into one kiss as his lips slot between yours. 

It quickly becomes a mess of teeth clinking together because neither of you can stop smiling, laughs tumbling from your lips as you try to pour your feelings out for each other between kisses, your fingers slotting through his as you eventually figure it out. The two of you fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces. 

Eddie pulls away when you’re both breathless, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping along it as you lean into his touch. You lie for a moment and you don’t even have to ask if Eddie’s thinking because you can see the gears turning. But before you can bring it up, he speaks. 

“I think I love you,” he says, his thumb still moving back and forth across your cheek. The words are so confident and matter of fact that you just know that he means the words and isn’t just saying them because he’s caught up in the moment. Every word that comes out of Eddie’s mouth has a purpose and he nevers says anything he doesn’t mean. 

“I think I love you too,” you reply and Eddie goes in for one of many more kisses of the night before the two of you cuddle up for the very first time as a couple.

[vandijkwrites]

sorry if you've already answered this 700 times, in which case totally feel free to ignore. but how do you lengthen your attention span? is it as simple as watching/reading progressively longer things?

First of, I am by no means an expert, but I'm happy to help as much as I can! There are a lot of great articles, books, and podcasts on the topic if you want any further info.

The most important thing to realize is why are attention spans are getting worse:

Information overload and distractions make it difficult to focus. (Ex. social media and text notification going off while you are doing other tasks)

Intentional multitasking gets your brain used to doing more than one thing at once so it becomes very difficult to make it do only one thing (Ex. having the tv on in the background while doing other tasks)

Consuming a lot of media focused on having minimal downtime and immediate gratification decreases our patience and ability to do slower tasks (Ex. watching a lot of action packed movies and short TikToks)

Getting constant small hits of dopamine from social media decreases our ability to do tasks that don't give us dopamine hits (Ex. getting likes from a post or messages from friends)

The solutions to most of these come down to two things: (1) Do only one thing at a time (2) Limit distractions from that task (3) Reduce immediate gratification

So some example of ways to do that would be:

Read a book without your phone being on hand to distract you.

Watch TV without multitasking.

Reduce time on social media, especially social media focused on short videos.

Spend a day or part of a day without technology.

Spend time with friends without looking at your phone.

Watch slow-form content like unedited lecture or panel videos where people are just speaking at their normal pace without cutting pauses.

Listen to music albums all the way through instead of shuffling and skipping.

Eat meals without multitasking (ie mindful eating)

Make yourself a cup of tea and sit on a park bench or by the window and watch some birds.

People-watch at the coffee shop.

Write long emails or letters to friends and family instead of short texts.

Call and have a conversation with a loved one without multitasking.

Meditate.

Take a walk and enjoy nature.

Don't scroll through your phone while waiting in a line.

Read long posts when you come across them on your dashboard.

Have an ebook on your phone to read whenever you would normally scroll through social media.

Don't go on your phone/online for a certain amount of time before bed.

If you are having trouble doing these things, try to do one tasks but increase the stimuli of that task. For example, read a book while listening to the audiobook at the same time. Or listen to music while watching a lyric video. These are great baby steps!

Another great baby step is (like you said in your question) doing things for progressively longer amounts of time! Set a timer for a certain number of minutes and then read without distraction for that amount of time. That way it won't feel like it is never ending and you can track your progress.

Obviously not all of these will be for everyone and some of these are too hard for people with ADHD or serious attention issues, but they are a good place to start!

I hope that helps 💕

[webbluvrsugar]

Spencer finally gets back from prison, first thing he does is go and see shy!reader.

cw: tiny angst with fluff, fools in love.

You didn’t know Spencer was out. He didn’t tell you, — which is weird considering you thought you were finally making progress when he started sending you letters — the team didn’t tell you, not even Garcia, you only knew he was out when he came to your house and knocked on your door. Two knocks. It was familiar, only he knocked that way, but it could be a miss understanding, at least that’s what could’ve been if he wasn’t standing right in front of you when you opened the door.

You thought you were hallucinating, fair for an FBI agent, but you weren’t, he was standing right in front of you, face still roughed up, brows slightly furrowing when he saw you.

“I know I didn’t — tell… I was coming, or that I was even out, and I’m sorry.” His voice is low, no longer as hushed as it was when you went to visit him, you feel like you can’t breathe for a single moment because… he really is here.

You stay silent for a while, his eyes roam over you, it’s late at night, you’re wearing a fluffy oversized sweater, white slippers and your hair lightly messed up, he can’t help but just think of how much he missed you, how pretty you look even now.

“Can I come in?” He asks, almost pleading, wide eyes staring into yours.

You nod, finally taking a breath, stepping to the side as he comes in. He closes the door behind him and you sit down on the couch, he remembers your apartment, small but cozy, still neat as the first time he ‘slept’ here, it makes him want to go back to make it up to you.

“I know I was a dick, didn’t write, didn’t.. respond to your letters, didn’t tell you I was out but —“ he sighs, slightly approaching you further. “I didn’t mean any of it, it was rough and I —“ he tries to finish, you cut him off.

“Spencer.” Your voice echoes through his ears like a hum, makes his shoulders slightly relax, makes him feel more relaxed.

“Yeah?” He answers, his eyes going away from yours.

“It’s fine.” You reassure. Yes, you may have been a little hurt, but he’s hurt more in there, you don’t know the things he’s gone through, you can’t blame him for any of his behaviour even with how rude it was. “Do you — want.. coffee?”

“Tea.” He chuckles.

“Tea?” You ask and he nods, maybe he needs the peace way more than he needs the energy. “Okay.”

So you stand and brew him the tea, grabbing the mug with both hands before blowing softly on it, handing it to him. This is more than he ever could ask for, and he wants to thank you for the hospitality, for the way you don’t judge him, for the way you’re so nice. He doesn’t need to say it, you can see it in his eyes.

He appreciates it all.

And he especially appreciates the way you welcome him into your bed as if nothing has passed between you.

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter seven: Closer Than Before

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous | 7 | next

Series Masterlist

The rain hadn’t stopped since the afternoon, a constant thrum against the windows. The kind of weather that felt like the world was pressing in, making everything inside feel a little more closed off, a little more confined. You stood on the first level of the VIP room, eyes wandering over the cold, imposing space. It was beautiful in its own way, all sharp edges and dark marble, but it lacked… warmth.

You needed to change that.

The Frontman—still wearing his mask, as always—stood a few steps behind you, his figure tall and unreadable, like he was a part of the room itself. Silent. Unmoving.

“I’ve been thinking,” you started, turning to face him, your voice a little louder than you’d intended, breaking the silence. “About what I want to do with the VIP room. It’s… too cold. I think it needs something different.”

You looked at him, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, his gaze scanned the space, lingering over the walls, the large, dark staircase, the bar area layered along the far wall. The way he looked at it made it clear that he wasn’t just seeing the design, but feeling it too, like he could sense the emptiness in the room.

“Like what?” His voice finally cut through the silence, low and steady.

You shrugged, trying to explain. “I was thinking of doing something like… Ancient Greece. Dark marble walls, dark green plants… a more organic vibe. I could make the models like Greek statues. You know, the ones with the sheer togas—more like they belong in the room, not just… standing there. It’d be darker, but it would feel more alive.”

The Frontman was quiet for a moment, processing your words. You couldn’t tell if he liked the idea or if he thought it was too much. His mask hid everything. His silence made it hard to read him.

“I think it could work,” he said finally, his voice distant but not dismissive. “The space is big enough for it.”

You felt yourself exhale, not realizing how much tension had been in your shoulders until it started to ease. You’d expected him to argue, or at least poke holes in your plan. But he was… actually considering it.

“I’ll need to see the full plan when you have it,” he added. “If you’re sure about it, I’ll get the contractors to start working on it.”

“Of course,” you said, your voice lighter now. “I’ll get something to you soon.”

You both stood there in silence for a while, looking around the room. It was still cold, but now, there was a shift. You’d actually said something, made a choice about this place. And he’d listened. He hadn’t rejected you outright. It felt… like progress, in a way.

Once the silence lingered too long, you followed him as he started to walk toward the staircase, down to the second level of the VIP room. You didn’t even think about it, just automatically stepping behind him. You both descended the stairs and made your way toward the couches, the massive TV on the wall. Everything in the room felt bigger, more imposing the longer you stayed there, but now there was a faint connection between you two that wasn’t there before.

The bar area was silent as always. You could hear the soft hum of the air conditioning, the sound of your heels on the polished floor. You broke the silence first.

“Do you ever get tired of this place?” you asked before you could stop yourself. “All of this… the Games? The power? The way everything just feels like it’s running on autopilot?”

You glanced at him quickly. You weren’t sure if he was going to answer or if you’d just overstepped, but you couldn’t help it. Something about the heaviness in the air between you both made you feel like he might actually understand.

“I don’t have the luxury of tiring,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet. There was no edge to his tone, no anger, just… resignation.

You wanted to push further, to ask him about the cost of all this—about the man behind the mask. But something stopped you. Instead, you nodded, accepting his words, even though they didn’t answer your question.

Neither of you spoke again as you made your way back to your shared quarters. The walk was slow, deliberate, like neither of you wanted to break the delicate silence. During the walk, you couldn’t help but think about how you’d been married to the Frontman for a little over a month, and you still didn’t know his name.

He knew yours, so what’s the problem?

The thought lingered in your mind as you reached the door to your quarters, and for a moment, you hesitated before reaching for the handle. The Frontman stopped beside you, his gaze on the door, but for a brief moment, you could feel his attention shift toward you. You weren’t sure if it was because of what you’d just discussed or if it was something else, but the atmosphere between you had changed—just a little.

You swung the door open and stepped inside, the Frontman following closely behind. You both moved further into the quarters, but he stepped past you, on his way to his office.

“Goodnight,” you said softly, the word feeling heavier than usual.

He didn’t respond right away. You were about to turn away when his voice stopped you.

“Goodnight.” He said, his tone softer than before. He seemed to hesitate, stopping in his place in the hallway.

He turned to face you once more, and there was a brief pause before he added, almost casually, “My name is In-ho.”

The words hung in the air between you like a revelation—something you hadn’t expected but that you’d somehow been waiting for. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t some grand confession. It was just… simple. Human. In-ho. It didn’t feel like the name of the Frontman, the man behind the mask. It felt like the name of someone who was finally letting go, just a little.

You blinked, surprised, your throat tight. “In-ho,” you repeated, almost as if testing it, letting it sit in your mouth. His name. Not the cold title you’d been using all this time, but the real one.

He nodded once, short and simple, and then opened the door. But before he stepped inside, he paused for a moment, glancing back at you. “I won’t be hard to find, if you need me,” he said, voice soft, quieter than before. Then, without another word, he disappeared into the room.

You stood there for a while, processing what had just happened. In-ho. You didn’t know what it meant yet, but somehow, it felt like it mattered. Maybe not everything would change overnight, but this moment—this small shift—it was something.

It was a crack in the wall, a small opening that let you see a little more of him than before. And that was a start.

———————

This is chapter seven!! I have a few more coming tonight! Lemme know what you think!!

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[fluentmoviequoter]

The Better, Not So Hidden Half

Part 2 of The Better, Hidden Half

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: After Tim decided he didn't want to keep you hidden any longer, you meet the rest of his friends (colleagues, as he prefers), but not the way he planned.

Warnings: depiction of minor injuries (Tim), fluff, grumpy!Tim, Smitty, mentions of drugging

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When Tim was infected by an unknown biological weapon, he told you that he wanted to stop keeping you separate from the rest of his life. You’re his better half, and he cares deeply about you and your safety, but that doesn’t mean you should be his hidden half. During his short stay in the hospital, Wade introduced you to Lucy Chen, Tim’s rookie, and John Nolan. Since then, however, Tim hasn’t done proper introductions or made any real changes. He has started wearing his wedding ring to work, though, rather than leaving it on a chain around your neck. Baby steps, maybe, but it’s progress.

Your phone rings while Tim is at work, and your breaths grow shallow when you see Wade’s name on the screen. The last time something happened to Tim, Angela called you; any time you see Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, or Talia Bishop’s names appear on your phone, your heart drops in fear for your husband.

“Hey, Wade,” you answer softly.

“Can you please come talk some sense into your husband?” he asks.

Wade's tone and accompanying sigh are all you need to hear to know he’s tired. Sirens have surrounded you all day, so you’re not surprised that something happened.

“About what?” you reply.

“Sorry for the surprise call,” he adds, “I know those can be concerning, so I’ll go ahead and tell you that Tim was in a minor accident, but he’s refusing to get looked at.”

“Shocking,” you joke. “I’ll be there soon. How is he?”

Wade begins to answer, but you hear Tim yell, “If I need a break, I will take one!” in the background.

“Sounds about the same as usual,” you say and answer your question. “See you in a few.”

“Thank you. You’re the best honorary cop I’ve got.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Sergeant Grey.”

When you walk into the Mid-Wilshire Station, Tim and Wade are nowhere to be seen. You see Angela waiting nearby, and she rushes to hug you after you wave.

“Are you finally here to meet everyone? Since someone decided that he needed to talk to you alone to heal last time?” she asks playfully.

“I’m here because Tim is injured and stubborn,” you answer.

“And he’ll still be injured and stubborn after you meet the boots who can’t stop talking about you.”

“Is he okay?” you whisper.

“He’s fine. Barely injured, I promise.”

You nod and thank her before she leads you toward a small crowd of officers. Talia says hello, and the three in long sleeves stand up straighter when they see you.

“Mrs. Bradford, nice to see you again,” Lucy greets.

“You too, Officer Chen,” you reply.

“Lucy, please.”

“You’ve met Lucy and Nolan – however brief Tim kept it. And this is my rookie, Jackson West,” Angela introduces.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer with your handshake.

“So, you married Bradford?” he asks. “Why?”

You chuckle at the question but can’t answer your cliched answer of because I love him, and he’s really just a big softie under the sarcastic eye rolls and grumpy yelling before Nolan asks another question.

“At the hospital, you said less than five words to Tim, and he listened. No complaining, no hateful looks, just immediately obeyed. How do you do that?” Nolan inquires.

“Wait – how did you meet?” Jackson adds. “Let’s be chronological.”

Nolan nods in agreement, and you prepare to answer.

“Then I want to know your first thought of Tim. Before you met, just saw each other, whatever… what did you see that drew you in?” Lucy asks.

Angela and Bishop smile as your eyes bounce between the rookies and their never-ending questions. You can’t answer one before the next one is asked, and though you don’t feel the same, you can understand why Tim didn’t want you to meet them all at once.

“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Where did Tim propose?”

“The place where they met,” Talia answers.

Nolan turns quickly to yell, “You knew Tim was married! Why didn’t you mention her?”

“She’s not my wife,” Talia replies sarcastically. “Not my story to tell.”

“I would have talked about her because she’s my best friend,” Angela interjects. “But Tim threatened me.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bradford,” Jackson says. “We’re just excited and shocked and have so many questions.”

“Mrs. Bradford?” a passing officer asks. “You’re too young to be Mom Bradford, and you’re not his sister…”

“I’m Tim’s wife,” you finish.

“This is Smitty,” Angela tells you.

She winks quickly, and you nod in understanding. You’ve heard plenty of stories about Smitty, and more than enough complaints when you’re alone with Tim. He seems unique, to put it lightly (and kinder than Tim does).

“You married Tim Bradford? Was he by any chance in possession of narcotics or mind-altering drugs when you met? Because it’s pretty easy to convince a woman to do something these days, just a little powder in an uncovered drink, you know,” Smitty continues.

“Smitty, have you drugged a woman before?” Nolan asks. His suspicion is evident in how he asks and the narrowing of his eyes.

“Well, Officer Smitty,” you begin. You nod at Angela, and her smile grows when she realizes you plan to play along.

Tim stands with a quiet grunt of pain. He stretches to the side to fight the growing stiffness and sees Lucy talking to a group of people. Smitty approaches the side, and Nolan steps back to reveal the focus of all of the attention. Tim doesn’t think twice and races out of Wade’s office to save you from the boots.

You address Smitty but don’t say anything more before Tim wraps his hand around your arm while the other grips your hip and pulls you backward. Tim moves you away from Angela and ignores the protests that follow your sudden departure. You don’t fight him as he leads you into Wade’s office. Wade looks up and mouths a relieved thank you.

“Tim, as much as I love meeting the people you pretend not to care about, would you please stop getting hurt and giving me an excuse to drop by unannounced?” you ask.

“I didn’t get hurt,” Tim argues.

His hands are still on you, so you turn in his hold to look at him. Several scrapes litter his left cheek, and you run a gentle finger under them. You can see that his shoulders are tense but you're grateful that his injuries seem to be limited to some stiffness and scrapes.

“What did Wade tell you?” Tim whispers.

“That you were being stubborn and not listening,” Wade mumbles behind you. “I’m surprised she believed me.”

Tim keeps his eyes on you but doesn’t comment further on his injuries or the rookies you just met. He looks down, and you follow his eyes to his hands. His left hand is wrapped tightly with gauze and bandages as he slides his right hand into his pocket.

“Had to take this off,” he tells you.

You extend your hand to accept his wedding ring and curl your fingers around it. After unhooking your necklace chain, you slide his ring on and keep it safe against your chest. Tim nods once it’s secure with you and pulls you to sit beside him. You lay a hand against his right cheek and smile as he leans against your hand. He leans in and kisses you quickly before glancing at Wade to ensure he isn’t watching.

“He’s seen us kiss before,” you remind Tim.

“And I will never let you forget it,” Wade agrees, focusing on the paperwork before him.

“No mind-altering drugs required,” Tim says with a small smile.

“Now I understand why you didn’t want me to meet Smitty.”

“I warned you.”

“Luckily, Angela introduced me to the rookies first, and I invited them over for dinner on Sunday. Wade, you and Luna are welcome to come, too, if you’d like,” you say.

Tim groans as Wade promises to pass the invitation on to Luna. You sit back carefully as Tim leans against you. He’s grumpy about your new connection with the boots but loves you. Tim meant it when he said he didn’t want to keep you hidden and risk wasting his life by separating from everything else that matters to him.

“Lucy won’t shut up,” he realizes with a dramatic sigh.

“Yeah, because I’m sure you carry half of the conversation as it is,” you tease. “Don’t forget how well I know you, Bradford.”

“As long as you don’t forget that I don’t like these people, Bradford,” Tim counters.

“You let Angela come over all the time. And don’t give me the whole ‘she scares me’ thing; you love her.”

Tim moves closer to you to whisper, “I love you more.”

“Then go get a full physical examination. Make sure all the handsomeness is still put together like it’s supposed to be.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Then maybe you don’t love me like you claim to. That’s why you leave your ring with me, right? Easier to bring women in when no one knows you’re married.”

Wade fails to hide a laugh before he covers it with a fake cough. Tim shakes his head but kisses you again before standing. You follow him to the door and thank Wade for the call. Tim waves everyone over, and Lucy beats the rest of them by a solid three seconds.

“Hi again,” she tells you.

“I’ll go see the medic if you rescind the dinner offer,” Tim tells you.

“You’ll go see the medic either way, so no,” you reply.

“We’ve decided a better way to ask questions, and we’ll give you time to breathe in the future,” Jackson says. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Jackson. I understand the excitement; not the shock because, I mean, look at him," you wave toward Tim and continue, "but it’s not every day that you meet Officer Grumpy’s secret wife.”

“Did you just gesture to me like I’m a game show prize?” Tim murmurs.

“Tim and I will be happy to answer all your questions at dinner. It was very nice to meet all of you, and if Smitty asks again, I was absolutely drugged.”

Tim drags you away once again, and Angela only hears him ask, “Officer Grumpy?” before the door closes behind you both.

You turn and place a hand under Tim’s chin. One touch, a smile, and a kiss turn Tim back into your loving husband. He didn’t realize that keeping you separate from his work life gave you a unique power over him because he’s never had to hide his love for you or the physical affection he’s grown to crave.

“Be careful,” you request softly. “And call me if they find any other injuries.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tim answers.

“Don’t,” you warn.

“You kissed me first.”

“Thanks for letting me be part of your life, Tim.” He nods and kisses you slowly, but you push him away to warn him, “Ask Angela to tell you about Smitty before he says anything about our relationship.”

“You talked to Smitty, too? Maybe I should start leaving you at home again.”

“I love you,” you call over your shoulder.

“I love you,” Tim replies.

He walks back into the station with two things on his mind: learning what Smitty thinks about you and Tim that was worth a warning and getting home to you. Your touch, kiss, and the soft return of his ring will always be the best part of Tim’s day, and even though he wears his ring more often now, you still pull him in because he needs you more than he’s ever needed the ring.

[proxycrit]

I love your au!!! I love how the hylian duo look like gremlins, I LOVE the expressions and sass constantly and the changes to the lore, the worldbuilding and also the emotions (OUCH). I love their relationship with purah and each other and the new champions. I love the depth you gave Yona and her relationship with Sidon and Mipha. I love how link feels comfortable talking to sidon in addition to sign, I don't know if he does that with anyone else but Zelda unless its absolutely necessary (eg: just launched out a cannon and is paragliding down, so hands are busy) (side note: i love how much of an adrenalin junky/gremlin he is!!)

I do got a few questions! Will the pair get the sheikah slate again (so say link has the slate and zelda the pad), and can both slates do the warping and item storage (food, ingredients, armor, weapons, etc) (if so: no WONDER link was so upset! His collection!)

Does link have access to the ultrahand abilities (ik you said not The ultrahand, but what about fuse or ascend or rewind etc?) Where is the mastersword??

Does Link still have the champions' abilities, or did he lose those when their spirits moved on at the end of botw?

I know these are a lot of questions but I can't stop thinking about it!! The last few updates sent me back rereading the whole au and now its just vibrating in my head and giving me no piece

This is long and rambly, just know I am very much enjoying this au! Its silly and fun and touching and cute. Thank you for working on it!!

Oo some notes (also ty for circling my au haha im glad other people fixate like i do)

(Prewarning— i did not finish totk despite putting triple hours in it, so a lot of this story is being written while playing, though i know the big broad strokes thanks to cultural osmosis and video essays. A lot of Familiar Familiar builds from my playthrough with BOTW over TOTK, so the sheikah influence is significantly stronger and I will always choose botw characterization over totk characterization as a result.)

That aside

1. Sheikah slate’s dead. Rest in pieces, link’s rare collectable korok poop. Purah’s extracting as much data as she can to put on the purah pad but you can see the dread in her eyes whenever she has to tell link resurrection is not possible.

2. No idea about the zonai arm powers yet— im thinking about ascend, but the longer i go through this story the less likely ill hand it to him just due to immersion breakage. He and zelda will be getting sheikah gadgets from purah though! Maybe ill have a scene of him wandering through the sky island shrines, but without zelda warning rauru he and sonia wouldnt have prepared anything for the hero of the future. (But i DO love ascension and fuse. Lowkey dislike the building mechanics from a concept art pov because the green glue makes me want to cry, but it’s FINE i GUESS)

2b. Master sword’s chilling in korok forest. Link put it back in this au because of Reasons (part of his and zelda’s characterization in this au is to discard their past roles and embrace the present, not as knight and princess but as hero and researcher. They both have to face the reality those roles aren’t dead, but it’s a work in progress. I may also never address it. This “one off hehe lemme draw some guys” idea quickly spiraled into a web comic series so apologies for the vagueness, because i too am watching them adventure with dread and awe and i don’t know where they’ll go with it. They literally write themselves.

3. Rip champions, their ghosts are Gone (but their influence remains. You go mipha, keep haunting the narrative girl, i love you)

I know that some of these story notes don’t quite match up to what totk states is stone cold canon, but that’s the joy of fan work! Anyways sorry for folks who i have NOT answered asks of— i have a lot of them and I’m much better at the drawing and writing part then the socialization aspect (please feel free to peak in to my zoo enclosure ever so often though. I need the enrichment)

[muddyorbsblr]

relinquish the crown: a special treat

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: Season 3, happy & married era

Summary: You had a special surprise planned for your husband on the morning of his birthday, but Loki had other plans

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 464

Warning/s: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers don't even--); cunnilingus; themes of incest (he's adopted but still) [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: not much, really…

Dick-tionary: approach the entire piece with caution

Dawn had just begun to break through the night sky in Asgard when you woke, contentment washing over you as you saw the peaceful silhouette of Loki's features. "Happy Birthday, husband," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his bare chest, just above his heart.

Much as you wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms just for a while longer, you reluctantly made a motion to remove yourself from his embrace. However you didn't make much progress, getting pulled back into his arms straight away, a little smirk playing at his mouth.

"And just where do you think you're going at such an early hour, little Princess?" he queried, the gravelly tone of his voice already making you squirm from the wetness pooling between your legs.

"The kitchens," you answered him truthfully. "I've asked the staff to prepare a special treat for you today and I wish to be there. Ensure that everything will turn out as I instructed."

"Hmmm…how solicitous of you, my love," he said softly, fingertips tantalizingly tracing along the length of your spine.

As more light began to fill the room, your stomach fluttered at the sight of his devilish grin as his eyes met yours. Before you could utter another word, a loud yelp slipped from your lips as he tightened his hold on you and effortlessly flipped you onto your back, sinfully large hands pinning your hips to the mattress. The sight of him looking down at you lustfully, locks of his long ebony hair hanging down and framing his face, quickly turned you into a dripping mess.

"However, you do not need to put forth any additional efforts to make this day special," he told you, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips, playfully nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. "I am perfectly, blissfully happy. My life has been complete since the day you told me you returned my love."

He kissed his way down your body, smiling against your skin when you began to squirm under him when he made his way to your navel. You uttered his name in a breathy moan, wordlessly pleading for more.

"The only treat that I intend to indulge in is right here," he rasped, groaning into your skin when he kissed the back of your knee before parting your legs. "Ohh my darling wife…" His eyes flickered to your face, his features dark with salacious intent, before returning to your glistening entrance. "Always so ready for me."

Your moans filled your bedchambers as he placed your thighs on his shoulders, mercilessly feasting on you and bringing you to orgasm over and over again.

Needless to say neither of you managed to make your way out of bed until you were called to breakfast.

A/N: Ohh hey there 😳👀 So my thots went someplace and decided to make this drabble for Loki's birthday. I haven't written smut in so long, so please be kind I bruise easily in these trying times 🫠

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814

[apomaro-mellow]

some time travel shenanigans

Eddie thought the hardest part about time travel would be convincing everyone of that fact. Turned out he didn't need to do much convincing. Perhaps that was due in part to the fact that he was only from a few years ahead and thus didn't look too different from the version of himself lying comatose in the hospital.

His hair was just a bit longer and he had a beard now. But everything else was about the same.

No, the real struggle was holding back certain truths of the future. Of course, many of them had questions and the more logical ones reasoned that they shouldn't know anything unless absolutely necessary. So thankfully Eddie was spared from a constant barrage of questions. But even that wasn't the hard part.

The biggest challenge, the most difficult part of being here, was having to pretend that he wasn't head over heels in love with Steve.

To have to watch him from across the room and not be able to kiss, him, to embrace him, not even being able to hold his hand. And it cut him every time their gazes met. There was a question in Steve's eyes that he longed to answer.

The first night he spent in the past, Eddie could only think of his Stevie. How easily he'd been allowed to touch him in his own time. But he couldn't now. He had to wait. In a few days his younger self would wake up and the near-death experience would give him the guts to tell Steve that he was gay.

And then a few days after that, he'd reveal that he had a crush on someone. And then about a week after that, he would find Steve about to kiss another man and find the nerve to cut in between and confess.

Now that Eddie thought about it, he guessed he had to thank the guy who tried putting the moves on Steve. Having his feelings out in the open had made him feel more confident, stronger. And that passion helped aid in defeating Vecna's second coming. Eddie almost wished he knew who the guy was.

--------------------

Everything had been going just as Eddie remembered it. The Harrington house had become the base of operations, even when Steve's parents returned. The military set up too and while they helped stem the demodog population, they did very little to help with Vecna.

His younger self woke up, injuries healed thanks to the bat venom now coursing through his veins. His return came with a message from Vecna. One that was a riddle that Eddie already knew the answer to.

"I can tell you what he's planning and how to counter. But some of you won't like it."

"Um, hey, who the fuck are you?"

Both Eddies stared each other down and it was so quiet you could hear a cotton ball drop.

"Who was supposed to tell present-Eddie about future-Eddie?", Robin asked.

"I'm sorry, who!?", Eddie exclaimed.

"You from the future, try to keep up", Dustin said.

Eddie's eyes were glued to his so called future self. And then only tore away when he caught a movement on the side. Steve shifting his balance. Steve.

"Okay, if you are me from the future, I have some questions."

"Most of which I can't answer. Especially that one."

"So you're useless then."

"Give him a break", Steve said, coming to the older man's defense. "If he told us everything that'd mess with the whole space-time whatever."

"Continuum", about three voices said for him.

"Yeah the whatever."

"...How long has he been here?", Eddie asked, wondering just what his future self, someone who seemed more bold and comfortable in his body, got up to with Steve.

Older Eddie just shook his head and chuckled in a way that reminded him too much of Wayne. "I haven't been here long enough for what you're imagining."

And then things progressed just as he knew they would. He knew his younger self was about to go and tell Steve about his crush. He could recall it happening during a supply run and even remembered that Steve had been wearing a camo jacket with a soft blue shirt underneath.

Seeing them get closer just made him long more for his own Stevie. Was he thinking of him now? Sometimes Eddie met the gaze of Steve from now and wondered if he could see the future they had together.

---------------

Steve knew the other Eddie was hiding something. At first he thought it might be how the venom was effecting Eddie's body. But once present-Eddie woke up, that had been made apparent and he was still acting weird. Steve didn't think it was malicious anymore. But it was definitely something.

Sometimes he caught the other man staring at him. Other times they had to hand things to one another and his touch lingered, like he wanted to touch Steve more. Steve knew yearning when he saw it. He just didn't understand why it was being directed towards him.

He got an opportunity to seek out answers one night. A lot of people were housed at the gym as a shelter after the quakes. But life was more dangerous now and that meant a lot of patrols in a lot of areas. So when someone reported odd noises outside, Steve, future-Eddie, present-Eddie, and a few well armed citizens went to check it out. It was about half a dozen of them in total and they broke off into groups.

Nancy's group was the one to find the thing, kill it, and radio in that everyone should get back inside before it got too late. Steve grabbed older Eddie's wrist, stopping from following orders. They were alone now, having split from the group. There was no better time than now.

"You keep acting weird. Especially around me", Steve said.

"Well someone thinks they're special", Eddie grinned.

There was just a sole light on this corner of the building and it mostly shone on Steve, which was fine by Eddie. He was having a hard time schooling his expressions now that they were alone.

"Something happens to me in the future, doesn't it? Do I die? Is that it?"

"No, no Steve you don't die", Eddie assured him.

"It's not just the way you act. You say my name weird too. Do you really hate it that much? Hate me?"

"No", Eddie bit out, turning his body half away.

"I thought we were really becoming friends. You-he's told me things. Secret things. But the way you're acting now it's like things change between us. I wanna know why. Is it me? Did I do something?"

Eddie heard his voice hitch up and then clear and knew that was how his baby sounded when he wanted to cry but held himself back.

"Stevie, sweetheart, baby", Eddie breathed out and held his face and it felt like a weight lifted from him. Calling him just 'Steve' had felt like walking with dumbbells attached to his ankles.

Steve's shoulders relaxed too, like he had also been carrying a weight. "That's what you call me, then? All that?"

"All that and more, my love." Eddie's voice was hushed, afraid someone or something might overhear.

"So that crush Eddie told me about is...?"

Eddie nodded, eyes closing for a moment, glad that he could at least have this about being apart for so long.

"Then you know how I feel", Steve said.

Eddie's eyes opened and he looked into Steve's. There was that question. One that Eddie longed to answer but he feared it wasn't his to reply to. Not at this time. Not now. And yet....

"Please", Steve whispered, eyes flickering to his lips.

Eddie wasn't strong enough to deny him. Not as a dying man in a drought being offered a drink of water. Just as he was about to give him, he was shoved back. Hard. He saw his own familiar curls and bolted, and odd sense of deja vu hitting him just as hard as the shove.

"Steve!", present-Eddie unknowingly took his older self's place in front of Steve. "I have to tell you something. Something really important and I need you to listen, okay?"

"Eddie?"

"I'm a goddamn idiot. An absolute fool for you and it shouldn't have taken some other guy trying to kiss you for me to get the gumption to tell you but it did and there it is and I...and I..." His expression pinched. "Wait, who was that guy?", he turned slightly to look for him.

Steve touched his cheek and brought his attention back. "It was...it doesn't matter who it was. You're here now."

-----------------------

When Eddie next opened his eyes, it was immediately followed by his Stevie kissing him all over the face. Everything came back to him, as well as new pieces of information.

"Wait, so that guy who was putting the moves on you that night-"

"Was you, yes", Steve confirmed, face splitting with how big he was smiling.

"And you just sat on that for years? Wait, how does that even work, you knew it was me but it couldn't be me until I got back to do the time travel and-"

"Don't think too hard about it, babe", Steve kissed his temple. "Just be grateful something gave you the kick in the pants to do it."

[huggywuggysuppy]

once you finish Empires S1 i'd like to hear your thoughts about esmp1!gem. she's genuinely one of my favorite characters to analyse because she is so nuanced and interesting in so many ways anywhere you look at her. her twisted determination to achieve peace at ANY cost, her rigid thinking and neurodivergency, her relation with symbols like her tower or the end and the moon, or her genuine wish to be a good person and so many other things. there's so much that is impossible to grasp at first (<- <- me, lesbian who is really normal about her favorite gem)

She's right.

Essentially, Gem understands the role a wizard PLAYS in a story. She's never the cause of something, but she sure amplifies both the problems and the solutions. She's morally gray, she's playing both sides, but nobody ever challenges her on that because of course Gem's helping the heroes too -- they need artifacts! She's a plot device, a questgiver, a weapon. She's the voice of reason, the straight man in any comedy duo, yet makes the same questionable decisions as anyone. She's experimenting, she's out of her comfort zone, she's having the time of her life. Wizard Gem is, ultimately, a real wizard.

That's the short answer anyhow. Longer analysis, well, I'm so glad you asked. I can't talk about character without diving into the content creator metanarrative (feature not a bug) so let's get into the noodles! What about Wizard Gem makes her so fantastic?

Wizard Gem is a catalyst.

From the beginning, Gem is mixing up dynamics and forcing new inspiration by opposing what's static. The way the rest of the Wither Rose Alliance sort of? Molds? Around her. How Sausage and fWhip are beefing until the day she alliances with Pearl and suddenly the four are besties. How she adds moral nuance to the villain side, both by mixing relations with the hero side, and just by insisting the Wither Rose are seeking peace, really, they're trying their best! This stops things from being so cut and dry and basic. Instead of Xornoth's vain forces against the heroic bumbling fish people (with the plant and animal empires in between), there's all sorts of messiness and drama. And Gem's aware of this, of how she's changing things, and so the effect is amplified.

On a CC level, even her origins are experimental. Gem was originally planning a more naturey plant wizard, but since Shubble, Katherine, AND Pearl, were plant based (& arguably Joey too) she adapted into amethyst and rocks. And it turned out amazing! That foundation of experimenting made it easier to take larger risks both content and character wise. All the empires folk enjoyed the lore centric storytelling: only getting deeper into it through the season, but Gem especially paved the way for embracing rp and outfits and items and fun.

But back to C! As the Wither Rose alliance progresses, terrorizing the server included, Gem maintains her peace loving stance. Taking on the role as fWhip's (and later Sausage)'s PR managers is genuinely so important to me. She never really stops them from doing bad things, but she's always discouraging them and talking them down one or two degrees. Ultimately loyal to her alliance, she's also taking responsibility for the consequences. Helping out Jimmy behind the scenes to lessen the blow, both for him but also herself.

At her core, Wizard Gem wants peace.

For herself and friends at least. Unfortunately, the Crystal Cliffs aren't in a bubble, so she keeps having to save the world anyway. She dreads conflict at best and fears it at worst. Her concerns are her kingdom, her neighbors, whatever magic / building she's invested in right now, and maybe a light shenanigan here or there. She'll help fWhip get out of trouble because they really do love each other, he's always helping her out too in his own ways (ex: making her stuff,) and she'll protect the realm so the problems stay far away from their doorsteps. When things do eventually fall into her lap, she definitely deals with them. Just... not 100%. Enough that they stop breaking the peace for now.

Let's be honest, Wizard Gem is firmly in denial. She's down for burying the corruption and letting it claim whole towers of her base. Often she'll just accept whatever another player brings to her: buying Scott and Katherines plush, whatever weird scams Lizzie tries on her, etc. When Scott gives her the Elsa curse, she hangs out in the nether, takes Shrub’s dodgy Xornoth cure, and stubbornly "it's fine"-s her way through avoiding a real solution until fWhip drags her to Katherine. It's telling that her (short-lived) corrupted evil version is more confident, while others become hyper or angry. This isn't laziness: it's fear. She doesn't want to step on any toes and start any conflicts. You can see it in how she talks to Jimmy and fWhip: giving them what they need not to win, but to end things.

This is how Gem maintains the story role of a wizard: she's always trying to stop things, so she's never starting new things, only making them better or worse. But how does Gem get away with it? She's simultaneously one of the most invested players in the lore, yet playing a character who'd rather be anywhere else. That dichotomy is entertaining, sure, but there's something else here.

Wizard Gem is loyal, curious, and moral. Just... not obviously.

Gem is unfathomably loyal. While she plays both sides, she's always standing alongside her allies in battle and all her actions are ensuring they're safe. She may be exasperated, yet treats her immediate alliance members with kindness. How fWhip drags her into things, but he never asks her to, it's always Gem CHOOSING to follow him because what else is she gonna do? Let him do it himself? How Sausage makes her laugh with his absurdity, even when they're fighting. How she's always a little uncomfortable, even in her great empire, except in the quiet simple moments with her allies between schemes.

(Still can’t believe roseblings isn’t canon. Like fWhip’s line about how he blew up relations with Scott because he messed with Gem, "it's okay fWhip I'm fine now," their tones, ohhhh devious work. They don't need to be canon, nonfamilial platonic relationships and all that, but STILL. I'm only human.)

Gem's also invested in magic and learning more about it, and she learns to trust and share that with others. The Crystal Cliffs Academy demonstrates growth: from solving problems herself when they’re too big to ignore, to actually addressing things at the source. Explicitly, the goal is to strengthen other empires magic knowledge so less crises happen. That’s preventative instead of reactionary. Even choosing the Ocean Queen as her first student is intentional: not an ally, causes a lot of medium scale ruckuses, in text Gem sensed her using transformation magic that wasn’t hers and wanted to guide Lizzie towards at least controlling it. Start of season Gem would’ve just kept handling any crises herself.

Essentially, Gem is trying SO HARD to be good. As anon said, she has a sort of rigid thinking (again, fun contrast between CC experimental and C rigidity) that creates this fantastic mix where she's staying true to the Wither Rose because she loves them and wants to keep them safe as their friend, but also trying to act for the greater good as a wizard, even though she'd rather focus on her own things. It's not a stable point of view, and is constantly challenged, creating the amazing series of events that we get to see unfold.

Also, Wizard Gem is straight up cool.

Regarding imagery, Wizard Gem has a distinct style that’s so fun to build and draw and write about. She's magical and otherworldly (dragons, the end) but also ethereal and magnificent on a human scale (towers, the moon.) Amethyst itself is inherently unique: something about forming deep under pressure, growing slow and beautiful, sought after as thrones and paths alike. These aesthetics have infinite storytelling potential, and look cute doing it.

And all these things are carried into Gem’s imagery as a whole! Losing her eye to and getting corrupted by the end portal in Life Series, building dragons and towers and villages all across her mc worlds, often using the moon in builds like her hc10 lighthouse. She’s solidly the moon in shinyduo sun/moon dynamic (while they both employ sun/moon all the time, Pearl builds and lores solidly more sun, let alone their comedy dynamic.) Even the struggle between embracing/chasing excellence versus holding herself back out of fear: that's Gem in every world! Emp1 is combining a lot of Gem's themes into one single character. And turns out she's really awesome!

This character wholeness lets Gem maintain her signature exasperated excellence over the other players. Like PVP prowess and building skill, she's an expert here too, and delightful to watch and interact with. Wizard Gem is amplifying everything, trying to keep her loved ones safe, learning that she needs to make peace herself, all while staying true to her beautiful masterful self.

Finally, CC!Gem is delighted to roleplay like this.

Every time she turns to the camera to give disclaimers and talk about her character, there's an infectious joy and "I can't believe this is my job." She often compares it to D&D, which ohh the parasocial brainrot is taking so normally, but also there's an unapologeticness to it. If you don't like her character / the roleplay / etc, stop watching, whatever, this is fun for the rest of us. Her and other CCs have talked about the crippling pushback from playing antagonistic characters -- and there's no shortage of that in emp1, she has to put disclaimers on the RP portions! But unlike Life Series where she's constantly fighting demons (it's own post, really) Wizard Gem is having too much fun to care. I think that's why emp1 hits different, at least for us Gem girlies. She's taking this seriously, and she's having the time of her life.

I originally posted about Worldhopper/Watcher Gem because that adds an extra layer of spice to her in all series, but it's still really awesome by itself. Summoning the dragons from ANOTHER WORLD? Hello?? Don't think I missed her using the nether portal to change skins either. Giggling during convos with Xornoth, undaunted by the Empires Crown, the list goes on. One day someone will assemble all her characters into the same room to compare notes and that someone will either be me or Geminitay herself.

In short, Empires S1 Gem is a Wizard. She's a catalyst, she ultimately wants peace, she's loyal curious and moral, she's straight up cool, and she's having fun. And isn't that just the most magical joy of all?

Anyway, accepting empires fic recommendations in reblogs / directly into my inbox. What a privilege to get to watch so much great art. Thank you for reading!