#the delay on this (and all the other asks) is brought to you by my potty-training toddler interrupting me every 16 seconds

[riboism]

me and my husband

》 pairing: emperor! k.hj x (f) empress! reader

》 wc: 5k

》 plot: In a cold and ruthless empire, the neglected Empress is trapped in a loveless marriage to a possessive and tyrannical Emperor. When he encourages her to take a lover to occupy her loneliness, she begins a forbidden affair with a kind-hearted gardener, discovering a tenderness she’s never known. But when the Emperor learns of her growing feelings for the gardener, he becomes consumed with jealousy, rage, and betrayal, prompting him to realize his conflicted feelings for her. 

》 content: royalty au, possessive! hongjoong, lots of plot before smut, affair, backshots, creampie, verrryyyy toxic ;)

》 a/n: this is heavily inspired by the Hulu drama, ‘The Great’, and that goddamn hongjoong mv…

🎧 me and my husband by mitski, all mine by brent faiyaz, heartless by the weekend, closer by nine inch nails, why do you love by hongjoong

You paced back and forth in your large bedroom, the quiet ticking from the grand clock slowly maddening you until your patience evaporated. Mingi is exactly eight minutes late. You wouldn’t have noticed his short delay if it was any other night, but tonight you were particularly desperate. It was only a couple of days before you’d start bleeding again, and your body craved to be taken care of. The frustration made you so hot and flushed to the point that you felt it unnecessary to apply any color to your cheeks. 

Exasperated, you fell back into the softness of your bed. Despite his occasional lateness, you had to admit—having a lover had its perks. At first, the idea felt like a betrayal of everything you stood for, a compromise of your values. But Mingi had been nothing short of a blessing. The loneliness of the palace had once felt suffocating, but his presence brought a much-needed light. He listened when no one else would, his warm gaze making you feel seen in a way the Emperor never had. And when words failed, he used his skilled fingers to help ease away your tensions. 

It was the Emperor’s idea for you to take a lover. Yes, you and your husband had sort of a dysfunctional marriage. When you first learned that the young Emperor was going to ask for your hand, you were quickly consumed with giddy daydreams of romance and devotion, the kinds you read about in books when you were just a little girl. You were ecstatic to have his companionship until reality struck you hard and fast. The hastily arranged wedding had barely concluded when you finally met him—a man who was far from the Prince Charming you had imagined. The dreams of a happily-ever-after faded quickly, replaced by the cold, bitter truth. You were merely another pawn in his political game, and he was far too absorbed in his own indulgences to care about yours.

Emperor Kim Hongjoong was a tyrant draped in silk and gold, a man whose cruelty knew no bounds. He ruled with a reckless disregard for his people. While his subjects froze to death in yet another senseless war, he surrounded himself with decadence—hosting opulent feasts that spilled into debauchery and indulging in nights of ecstasy with his concubines. The Court tread lightly around him, knowing full well he was a volatile storm, ready to unleash fury over the slightest inconvenience. Beheadings became as common as whispers in the palace halls, his wrath fueled by whims and dulled by the haze of opium that clouded his mind. Rational decisions—military or otherwise—were a rarity, yet the Court still pushed him toward one expectation: securing heirs to continue his blood-soaked legacy.

You quickly came to understand your place within the palace walls. Though you bore the title of Empress, in his eyes, you were nothing more than a vessel for producing heirs to secure the bloodline and strengthen the Empire.

Intimacy with the Emperor felt like a cold and mechanical ritual devoid of any tenderness or affection. During your ovulation, he would visit your chambers to complete the act, barely sparing you a glance as he did. There was no care or affection—just the unceremonious deposit of his seed before he rose and left without a word. More often than not, you were left lying on your back, alone in the dark, listening to his footsteps echo down the hall as he sought solace in the arms of his concubines. Whatever happened between you two during those nights was never meant to bring any joy or passion; it was simply a transaction, a duty to the Empire.

What stung most was how he never saw you as he did those other women. To them, he gave smiles, laughter, and sometimes even whispers of affection—crumbs of humanity that you yearned for but never received. And yet, despite his cold indifference, you couldn’t help but crave his attention. You told yourself that if you waited, and if you worked hard enough, he might one day change. Maybe, just maybe, he would soften, hold you, and love you the way you had once dreamed.

But with each passing day, the hope grew dimmer. He only seemed to drift further away, leaving you to grapple with the emptiness he left behind.

“I don’t have time,” the Emperor said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He shoved the last of his rice into his mouth and rose swiftly from the table. He always ate with such haste in the mornings, as though the very act of sitting with you was a burden he couldn’t wait to escape.

“All I’m asking for is a short walk in the garden. Please, I’m so lonely here. Can’t you spare even a moment for your wife?” you pleaded, your voice trembling with the weight of your desperation.

He adjusted his trousers with a practiced indifference, striding toward the tall, imposing doors without so much as a glance in your direction. Just as he reached them, he let out a dismissive scoff.

“If you’re so bored, find yourself a lover.”

The Emperor had said many cruel things to you before, but this? To suggest such a thing as an affair to his wife? It was beyond comprehension. That very day, you found yourself pacing the palace garden, his vile words echoing endlessly in your mind.

Was he truly that done with you? you wondered bitterly. Did he care so little for you that the thought of you lying with another man didn’t stir even the faintest flicker of jealousy? No, he had encouraged it. Not out of love, but because your presence was a little more than an inconvenience to him. The realization gnawed at you. He treated you with less regard than his concubines, women he showered with affection, attention, and gifts—things you had only ever dared to dream of.

Your sadness was written across your face, too raw to hide, even when the tall, unassuming gardener approached with cautious concern. His voice was soft as he asked if you were alright, his eyes kind in a way you hadn’t experienced in ages.

And it was in that moment, standing before Mingi, that you decided. If the Emperor’s cruelty extended so far as to push you into the arms of another, then so be it. You would take his advice.

—

A loud thud at the door jolted you upright. That must be Mingi, you thought, heart racing as you leapt out of bed. Hastily, you grabbed the bottle of floral perfume on your nightstand, spritzing a delicate mist onto your neck. You smoothed your lacy nightgown and approached the door on light feet, careful to keep your movements discreet—though you knew the palace walls were full of watchful eyes, and rumors of your midnight visitor were no secret.

But the giddy flutter of butterflies in your stomach twisted into a cold, heavy weight the moment you opened the door.

Standing there, framed by the dim hallway light, was not Mingi.

“Emperor,” you murmured, quickly bowing to mask your shock.

Hongjoong’s gaze slid over you like a blade, lingering far too long on the delicate lace of your nightgown. His lips quirked upward in a faint smirk, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. You flushed under his scrutiny, the sheer fabric suddenly feeling like a cruel betrayal.

"All dolled up," he remarked, voice low and taunting. "Quite the effort for someone who isn't me."

You widened the door hesitantly, feeling cornered, as though you had no choice but to let him in. The Emperor stepped inside with an air of entitlement, his presence suffocating in the small space. As he moved further into the room, you instinctively leaned out into the hallway, glancing left and right, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mingi—wanting to warn him somehow.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about the gardener,” Hongjoong said casually as if reading your thoughts. “I sent him away.”

You froze mid-step, the blood draining from your face. “S-sent him away?” you stammered, dread pooling in your chest.

Hongjoong threw his head back and laughed, a sharp, grating sound that only deepened your unease. “Relax,” he said, waving his hands in mock reassurance. “I didn’t kill him. Tempting, sure, but no. I figured that might upset you.” His words were flippant, but there was a gleam in his eyes that made your stomach twist. The reassurance didn’t land—it only left you more anxious.

Without invitation, Hongjoong strolled further into your chambers and collapsed onto your bed with an exaggerated sigh, as though he owned every inch of the space—and, of course, he did. His dark eyes roamed over you unabashedly, lingering on your bare, glistening legs and then rising to your barely covered chest.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice thick with amusement. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in that nightgown before. Did I buy that?”

You didn’t respond, refusing to acknowledge his comments. Your thoughts were racing, consumed with worry for Mingi. Where was he? Was he safe? What did Hongjoong do to him?

The Emperor sat up, his expression shifting into something more serious. “I didn’t kill your boy toy,” he said bluntly. “I’m simply relocating him. He no longer works at the palace.” He patted the mattress beside him. “Now, sit down.”

Your heart plummeted to your stomach. The room felt colder, heavier. You wanted to scream, to hurl every ornate wedding gift he had ever given you in his face, to demand answers at the top of your lungs. But you swallowed it all—the anger, the fear—and silently moved to sit beside him. It had been so long since you were this close to him, and you needed a moment to size him up before doing anything rash.

“Why did you send him away?” you asked quietly, the tremor in your voice betraying your attempt at calm.

“Because I decided I don’t want to share pussy with a lowborn. You couldn’t have at least gone for the Chancellor? He’s always ogling at your breasts. Doesn’t carry much in length, but at least he has status.” He answered offhandedly.

“What?” You flustered. 

Hongjoong threw his head back in exasperation before turning sharply toward you, his expression a mixture of annoyance and condescension. “Everyone in the Palace knows about you two,” he began, his tone dripping with disdain. “The Court has been whispering that your little gardener was falling in love and planning to run away with you. He made a mockery of me. Me. So yes, I had to get rid of him. You should be grateful I didn’t have him beheaded. That imbecile.”

His words left you reeling. Was he telling the truth, or weaving lies to justify his cruelty? It didn’t make sense. He had ignored you for so long, humiliated you at every turn, yet now he took offense when you sought solace elsewhere? And with his permission, no less?

“I don’t understand,” you said, your voice trembling with both anger and confusion. “You told me I could have a lover.”

Hongjoong chuckled darkly, the sound grating against your nerves. “I meant a fuck buddy,” he corrected, his smirk widening. “Not a boyfriend. But anyway, I take it back. You can’t have either.”

Hot anger coursed through your veins, lighting every nerve on fire. How dare he? Who was he to take the one shred of happiness you had and discard it on a whim? You rose to your feet, fists clenched, jaw tight. “Bring him back. Now,” you demanded, your voice firm despite the trembling in your chest.

His smirk deepened, his gaze alight with a maddening amusement. He leaned back leisurely, resting his weight on one arm as if your anger were nothing more than entertainment to him. “No,” he said flatly, his arrogance palpable.

The sheer audacity made your head spin. You had always tempered your tone around him, swallowed your words out of respect—or fear—but this was too much. “If you don’t bring him back to me,” you said, your voice rising, “I will leave. And I will never come back.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed, though his smirk remained intact. “If you leave,” he said with maddening calm, “I’ll send my men to every corner of this Earth to find you and bring you back to me.”

“Then I’ll jump to my death!” you spat, your voice trembling with both fury and desperation.

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head mockingly. “Do you need my assistance opening the window? They’re awfully heavy,” he said, his tone laced with derision.

It hit you then—the futility of it all. There was no winning with him. Every word he uttered, every action he took, was final. Your defiance crumbled as hopelessness set in. Your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor, staring blankly at the carpet.

My Mingi, you thought, your heart aching in the hollow silence that followed. If he had truly loved you, if he had asked you sooner, you wouldn’t have hesitated to run away with him. But now…

A sudden touch startled you. Hongjoong’s thumb brushed away a stray tear from your cheek before gently gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. He studied your face with an almost detached curiosity, sighing as if your sorrow was an inconvenience.

“Oh, cheer up, dear,” he said, his tone mockingly light. “You don’t need that filthy cock to sit on. You have me.”

The sheer calmness in his voice, the audacious cheerfulness of his words, was infuriating. It gnawed at you, his willful ignorance of your pain more provoking than all his cruelty combined.

You pushed his hand away. “At least that filthy cock could make me cum.” 

You braced yourself for the sting of his hand against your cheek, but it never came. Instead, the Emperor’s lips curled into an amused smirk, as though your defiance was nothing more than a child’s tantrum to him. “Well, If you’d dropped that attitude and let me into your chambers from time to time,” he said with a gleam in his eye, “you might have seen my full potential.”

His words dripped with arrogance, and your stomach churned in disgust. The memories of the handful of nights you had spent with him were distant and cold, fleeting instances of duty you had long since abandoned. After meeting Mingi, you had shut your doors to the Emperor completely, forsaking the obligations of producing an heir as you allowed yourself to be swept away in the warmth of another’s embrace.

“Just get out,” you snapped, your voice brittle with anger and exhaustion.

Hongjoong tilted his head, studying you as though you were a puzzle he was just now beginning to solve. He hadn’t expected this level of fury—at least, not from you. A flicker of realization crossed his face.

“Oh,” he said, a note of amusement creeping into his tone. “Don’t tell me you loved him.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The truth sat heavy in your chest, threatening to burst free. It wasn’t just lust that had drawn you to Mingi; it was the way he saw you, the way he listened, the way he made you feel alive. You cared for him deeply, even when it terrified you, even when the impossibility of your circumstances loomed over you like a storm. There were nights when you dreamed of a life with him, though, they were only dreams, you had to remind yourself.

Hongjoong sighed, a long, dramatic exhale as he leaned forward, his movements slow and deliberate. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and venomous. “Oh, you don’t get it, do you, honey?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “You can’t be with anyone else. You belong to me. Your mind, your voice, your lips, your breasts, your legs...”

His fingers brushed against the softness of your thigh, a teasing touch that made your skin crawl. His hand lingered there for a moment, as though threatening to move closer, before retreating entirely. “...The very essence of you is mine,” he said, his tone as cold as it was possessive. “And the next time you foolishly find another hard cock to bounce on, remember this: I graciously spared your beloved lowborn this time. I let him walk out of here with all his limbs intact. But next time?” His voice darkened, a shadow falling over his words. “I won’t be so kind.”

The silence that followed was deafening, his threat hanging heavy in the air.

Without another word, the Emperor rose to his feet, smoothing out his clothes with maddening calm. He strode to the door with the same regal air he always carried, pausing only to glance back at you with a mocking bow. “Goodnight, my dear,” he said lightly, as though he hadn’t just shattered your world.

Then he was gone, leaving you trembling on the floor, a hollow shell of anger, fear, and heartbreak.

—

It had been months since your last encounter with the Emperor. Tonight, he was returning from a diplomatic trip overseas. All morning, Courtesans and nursemaids visited to remind you of your wifely duties. They whispered about your dwindling fertility window, urging you to try for a child before it was too late.

You prayed he’d be too exhausted from his journey to come to your chambers. But you knew better. Time away from the Palace always left him restless.

You hadn’t forgiven him for sending Mingi away. Of course, he hadn’t apologized—he never did. Hongjoong likely believed that with time and distance, you’d forget. That you’d fall back into your role, returning to him as if nothing had happened. But the lack of replies from the letters he’d sent you during his absence told him otherwise.

Resigned to your fate, you lay on the grand bed in your best nightgown, the silk clinging to your skin. Waiting. At least it would be quick. The Emperor never lasted long anyway.

The heavy doors swung open, and Hongjoong entered, still wearing his elaborate robe. You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the ceiling as he began to undress. You braced yourself, mentally preparing for yet another empty, soulless night.

Hongjoong broke the silence. “I take it you’re still angry I took your toy away?”

The arrogance in his voice made your skin crawl. You hated how he spoke of Mingi, reducing him to an object. A plaything. As if you hadn’t cared for him deeply. As if Hongjoong’s own heart wasn’t capable of understanding such feelings.

“Are you going to talk at all tonight?”

You stayed calm, swallowing the retort burning in your throat. “I’m not here to talk, remember? We have a duty to fulfill.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, you make it sound so dull. Like we’re here to do paperwork or something.”

You didn’t answer. He busied himself removing his rings, laying them on the table beside you. His gaze landed on a pile of familiar envelopes, all sealed, untouched, and forgotten.

“You didn’t even bother opening these?” he asked, his voice tighter than before.

You sighed, unmoved. “Were they urgent?”

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his face. “No,” he admitted, quieter now, “but…”

He trailed off, his confidence suddenly faltering. You had no idea how much those letters meant to him. Each word, each line, was an attempt to ease the guilt that haunted him during his travels. He had replayed the memory of your tears over and over, trying to drown his regret in ink and sentiment. Yet now, staring at the unopened letters, he realized it had all been for nothing.

“You know, you hurt me too,” he blurted.

That caught your attention. You sat up, furrowing your brows. “Me?” you echoed, incredulous. “How? By doing the very thing you told me to do?”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Your laugh was sharp and bitter. “Why? Because only you get to sleep with other people?”

Hongjoong scoffed, brushing off your words with a wave of his hand. “What I do is different from what you did.”

“Different?” you snapped. “How? How is it any different?”

He stopped pacing, turning to face you fully. His voice dropped, quieter but seething with rage. “Because I don’t fall in love with them!”

The room fell silent, his words ringing in your ears.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Was he more hurt over the possibility that you had feelings for Mingi than the fact that you’d shared nights with him? The absurdity of it made your head spin.

But then he said something that chilled you to the core.

“Seeing you cry over that bastard…” He paused, his voice tight with unspoken pain. “It enraged me. I wondered—would you ever cry for me like that?”

His admission hung heavy in the air. For the first time, you saw something raw in his eyes.

“You must be drunk,” you said quietly, hoping to diffuse the tension. “Come, lay down—”

“I’m as clear-headed as I’ve ever been,” he interrupted, his tone sharp but slightly slurred, betraying the truth. You noticed his steps wavered as he began pacing the room again, the hem of his robe brushing unevenly against the floor.

His words came faster now, laced with frustration and desperation, his worries of masking his inebriation quickly dissolving. “When you married me, you promised me your loyalty. It didn’t matter who you spent your nights with, as long as you returned to me. But instead, you gave him your heart.”

You stared at him, stunned. His jealousy, his possessiveness—it was suffocating. Yet there was something almost pitiable in the way he looked at you, as if your betrayal had cracked something deep within him.

He stopped pacing, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You belong to me,” he said through his wine-stained lips, his voice low and firm. “Your mind. Your body. Your soul. Your loyalty. Your love. All of it. And I’ll be damned if I ever let another man take what’s mine.”

Before you could even digest all of what he said, Hongjoong climbed up on the bed, nestling himself between your legs. Your breath hitched upon feeling the softness of his lips trace over your inner thigh, planting slow and messy kisses all over your soft skin.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked flabbergasted, not used to seeing him in this position. 

His arms wrapped from under your legs, locking you in place. “Showing you my full potential.” 

—

Your body tensed with each flick of his tongue. You held back your moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but your sweat coated breasts and your shaky, quiet breaths betrayed you. He held onto your thighs as he tasted you, gliding his tongue in tortuously long and slow strokes. 

When you looked down, you were in awe at his focus, his brows furrowed in concentration, and saliva running down his chin as he savored you like a long-awaited meal. You felt trapped under him. Each time you got closer, he could sense it in the way your body braced itself, and he’d slow down again, ghosting his tongue over your parted folds, making you mentally curse him for stealing yet another rush of relief from you. 

You had reached your breaking point, and although you remained utterly mute, Hongjoong understood your frustration. Like an answered prayer, his tongue swirled briefly around your throbbing nub, before finally wrapping his wine-stained lips over your aching bud. 

As he suckled at your clit, you had no choice but to gasp out loud, your dry voice cracking as he consumed you. He purred into your cunt, smug with himself for finally breaking you. His craving for you grew even stronger, and he pulled you closer to him, his hips now rutting against the mattress. 

“You taste exquisite, Empress,” he breathed into your cunt, which didn’t fail to send goosebumps all over your exposed flesh, “Need to taste your cum next.” 

What felt like hours of edging had finally caught up with you, and your breathing started to get shaky again. Your hands slipped into his dark strands, holding onto them tightly as your hips jerked up, the fire in your abdomen finally snapping as you cried out, your milky white essence dripping onto Hongjoong’s tongue just as he desired. 

You collapsed back into the mattress, your vision blurring as he continued lapping at your sensitive cunt. He drank up every drop from your puffy, tender lips, his hand resting at your stomach to help bring you down from your high. You melted into the mattress as his lips shifted from your dripping cunt to your inner thigh, kissing and biting at your soft skin while he waited for you to steady your breathing. 

You looked down and met his deep, velvety gaze, his glassy eyes and slick-coated lips hitching your breath. In this moment, you took each other in. His once neatly top-knotted hair now loosely hung over his forehead, all roughed up from when you tugged and pulled at it earlier. You were disheveled yourself, your pretty lilac nightdress now sweat-drenched, the loose strands of your hair stuck to your rosy-red cheeks. He watched silently as your breasts which were barely covered by the hem of your dress, most likely hiked up from your convulsions, heaved up and down. 

You were a vision unlike anything he’d ever encountered. He had just returned from a journey that took him across vast snowy peaks and through valleys kissed by the first blush of cherry blossoms. Yet, the sight of you lying here, draped in soft shadows and the moonlight shining in from the window, surpassed the beauty of every natural wonder he’d seen. You were alluring—a temptation so profound it made the grandeur of the world seem pale in comparison.

"So foolish," he murmured, his voice low and thick as he hovered over you now, the heat of his breath brushing against your skin. His face lingered just a breath away, his eyes drinking you in. What he wanted to say—how foolish he’d been to neglect you, to waste time when he should have been losing himself in you—caught in his throat, heavy and unsaid.

Instead, he let his actions speak. His head dipped slowly and his lips found yours, claiming them with a hunger that had been simmering for far too long. You met him with equal fervor, surrendering completely to the kiss and tasting your sweetness on his lips, pulling him closer, tighter, as though you could make up for all the lost time in that single, stolen moment.

“Get on your knees,” He instructed after pulling away from the kiss, a tinge of impatience and restlessness painted in his voice. You obeyed his order, pivoting yourself from your back to your hands and knees. 

His hands gripped your hips eagerly, securing you in place as he lined himself up with you, giving his throbbing shaft a few pumps before sliding into your wet walls. You inhaled sharply as he entered you, his hard cock stuffing you so deliciously that you were forced to make a strangled moan, grasping at the silky sheets from under you to brace yourself. 

You had never been in this position with him before. It was always missionary as it was the best option for ensuring a successful pregnancy, but from this angle, his cock hit you so deep, his balls swinging and smacking into your aching clit as he thrust into you harshly. 

Your loud and lewd screams left Hongjoong teeming with ecstasy. He smirked as he watched you from behind, her royal highness, who was always so primmed and polished, so graceful in the way she walked and spoke, now babbling sinful moans, her makeup running, her hair tousled, covering him with her sticky juices as she cried and begged him to go faster, harder. He felt honored to see you like this. 

The wine made Hongjoong fatigued, and he slowed down his pace, which was a little too slow for your liking. Your brain had already turned to mush, and your hips started to have a mind of its own, forcing you to fuck yourself on his cock to reach your high faster. Hongjoong cooed as he watched you, his cock throbbing at the sight of you taking matters into your own hands. 

“You forget yourself, Empress,” He teased, placing a hand on your mid-back. He caressed your skin, watching your stretched-out pussy take him whole. 

“Just shut up and cum inside me already,” You huffed, your composure crumbling, giving way to raw frustration. 

A spark ignited in his eyes, a glimmer of something untamed and primal seeping through. His weariness evaporated and a renewed vitality coursed through him. He lifted you and pulled you into his chest, his hand sliding around your neck, fingers tracing your pulse before tightening just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Want my cum?” He rasped into your ear, lips smashed against your hot skin, his hips never letting go of that rough pace, “you want it?” 

“Yes, p-please!” You choked, your salty tears falling onto your reddened lips, “Want it all!” 

His grasp tightened around your neck, fucking into you so raggedly now that there was a moment he thought he could break you. “Gonna take it all?” He growled, “All of me in that little pussy? Who’s fucking pussy is this?” 

Your head swam, a dizzying mix of exhilaration and the sharp, intoxicating absence of air. The rush of excitement left you lightheaded and entirely consumed by the moment. 

“Yours!” You cried out, “It’s all yours!” 

With a satisfied smirk, he watched you dissolve in pleasure, finally letting go of your throat as he shot his load into you, a mixture of your wetness and his creamy white dripping out of your cunt. You felt all your strength leave you as you came down, letting yourself be held up by Hongjoong, your head nestled between his chin and shoulder. 

“That’s right baby,” he pressed a few gentle kisses on your sweaty temple as he pumped his cum back into you, pushing deeper and deeper to make sure you don’t waste a single drop of him, “Your mine, all mine…”

a/n: 2 posts in one year??? I'm on a roll!!! please leave feedback, I'm needy :(

[grissomesque]

For the prompts, #15, and J/P (of course)

Hi, Anon! Thank you for this prompt!

#15: "I can't do that for you." In which I am so brave to take my fingers out of my ears and stop pretending Fair Haven never happened.

I hope you enjoy it ♥

the finer points of the situation 1K | G | J/P | AO3

She says she's never been afraid of taking risks, but Mark, for example, was no risk at all. Contentedly landlocked with his books and philosophies, he’d loved her without needing her. Without needing her to keep him safe.

Unable to sleep, unwilling to indulge herself in the holodeck maybe ever again, she slips into the shuttle bay, into the Flyer, leaving it powered down so that the only illumination comes from the overhead lights at half-strength, filtering in through the viewport. She knows by now that if she lets her mind drift she can imagine it truly is night, night in a way that means something. That it’s moonlight she traces with the pads of her fingers, following a cobbled path of curves and blunt angles: the analog controls Tom insisted on including, a design so quintessentially him.

She suspects she might know every nook and cranny by heart.

She draws her knees up to her chest and sinks deeper into the chair that she also thinks of as Tom’s, letting her head fall back against the headrest, letting her eyes drift shut, willing away her memories of the day.

“Going my way?” a voice calls out from behind her, and she represses the reflex to spring guilty up from the conn, but only just.

How did you find me is the wrong question with an obvious answer, but it would be the easier one to ask. Easier than why did you find me, the harbinger of a conversation she has actively avoided for these past three days.

“That depends,” she says instead, deciding to deflect. “Are you here to help shoot me out of an airlock?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that for you,” Tom smiles, leaning against the half-wall behind her. “I wanted to make sure you were all right. You never came back.”

“Oh, the Doctor filled me in on the finer points of the situation,” she says, rolling her eyes at herself and turning, finally, to face him. “You seemed to have everything under control.”

“Not quite,” he chuckles, perhaps recalling Harry’s black and blue face, or his own split lip. She grimaces in acknowledgment.

“I’m… sorry, Tom,” she says softly, because her humiliation is outweighed only by the crush of responsibility she feels for a dozen members of her crew getting drawn into a fistfight. Because she’d altered his program without his permission, in ways that had caused an emotional cascade failure beyond her wildest dreams.

“Actually, I think I owe you an apology,” he says, and though his tone is mild he does not meet her eyes.

She holds her breath.

“I made it for you, you know. Not Michael, but—” he laughs, self-deprecating, “well, all the rest. I made Fair Haven for you.”

Slowly, she exhales.

What she’d told the Doctor wasn’t precisely true. She hadn’t left Michael that day because she’d realized none of it was real. That part she’d known all along, and all too well. Had wrestled with her misgivings, her shame, and done it anyway.

No, she’d fled… because she’d finally understood what was real. What it all signified, each careful photon and forcefield that cocooned her on that false lake shore in something like respite.

And how it could all be so finely tuned to her interests, without her participation in its creation.

An aficionado, they’d called her.

“I know,” she admits.

Tom startles. “You never said.”

“Neither did you.”

And either one of them could invoke that magic word, Mark, a panacea against all risk. Either one of them could end this conversation easily enough, now and, probably, forever.

She doesn’t say it.

Tom drops into to a squat beside her. “The Burleigh Manor,” he says, counting on his fingers. “Da Vinci’s Workshop. Fair Haven might be the least subtle, but I’ve been telling you for years. Not to mention,” he adds, glancing around, “that I seem to have unintentionally built you a Captain’s yacht.”

Her mind reels. When the Gothic holonovel appeared in her database right around the same time Sandrine’s made its debut, she’d wondered. She’d never been bold enough to ask, not when doing so might make it awkward for her to drop into the bar late at night and run the table on her helmsman.

But then the da Vinci program had arrived on her birthday that difficult third year, and as far as she’d known only Tuvok and Chakotay knew that particular date, neither one of them likely culprits. Another mystery she’d let lie at the risk of spoiling it, another program she’d kept close to her chest.

Yet for all that, she realizes, there is this one thing Tom does not seem to understand.

“I don’t come here because it’s my shuttle, Tom,” she corrects him. “It’s entirely yours.”

The wide smile he gives her then makes her ache, and she welcomes it. Tom is always ready with a smirk, ready to hide himself behind an easy grin, but this—this is the bright, true smile he’d given her when she’d granted him his field commission, entrusted him with her ship, their lives, all those years ago.

This smile is a gift she does not ever want to let lie.

“Well, in that case,” he says, rising and offering his hand so she can do the same, “you think the Captain would authorize a midnight joyride?”

No holodecks this time. No proxies.

Just them.

“Oh, I think she’ll allow it,” she murmurs, and she settles in behind him while he takes the conn.

For once, she is not afraid.

[Send me a prompt and I'll write you a thing!]

[motomamita]

loser!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, cunnilingus, sex!

loser!könig

a simple photo of your breasts was enough for könig to become the most submissive and needy being in the entire universe. And how to blame him? It was the first time that a girl agreed to have a conversation with him without leaving him in seen or blocking him.

from that moment on, not a day went by when könig sent you a good morning message or a photo of his fat cock showing through his jeans. sometimes you ignored him or took a while to respond, but he always answered instantly. könig didn't mind staying up late talking to you or having to look at his cell phone constantly waiting for your response, he loved the little attention you gave him.

some nights he would surprise you by sending you videos of him masturbating while moaning your name and telling you in an agitated voice how much he needed you there with him. he set your photo as his wallpaper and, sooner rather than later, asked for your bank account information to send you money every time you delayed responding.

soon könig proposed that you meet him in his city, he wanted to meet you in person. you hesitated at his proposal but soon changed your mind when you noticed the amount of money he had sent you, it was enough to pay for a plane ticket to his city. it was all paid for, so how can you say no?

you met könig in a hotel room that he had reserved for both of you. in photos he looked huge and in person it was even more so. he covered almost the entire door frame, his muscles were visible through his t-shirt and his face expressed absolute desire. in his hand he carried a bouquet of roses that he had bought especially to receive you and a bottle of champagne.

you both didn't talk much. there was no need either, you both knew what you were going for.

könig had you under him, hugging your bare legs preventing you from escaping while his big cock entered and exited you. your pussy stretched deliciously with each thrust while your clitoris rubbed against his skin. könig breathed close to your face, fixing his gaze on every expression of pleasure and how you desperately asked him to slow down a little.

"cutie, i can't stop, i can't..."

könig increased the speed of his thrusts, sinking you into the mattress and approaching your face to kiss you desperately. your tongues played with each other and his alcoholic breath invaded you completely.

"are you going to cum? uh? i can feel your pussy squeezing my fat cock. come on, cum in my mouth."

könig pulled out of you and brought his mouth to your wet pussy. he licks and sucks every part of your folds like he's wanted to do it for a long time, and he did. he brought his large hands to your thighs and squeezed them tightly, preventing you from closing your legs.

you pulled his hair hard as your orgasm hit. könig moaned over your pussy and tried to collect all your flavor with his tongue.

before you could react, he sat up and positioned himself on top of you jerking his cock quickly while moaning your name. in a matter of seconds his abundant warm cum fell onto your belly and a moan of relief left his mouth.

"fuck, cutie... now, can you let me cum inside you, please, please?"

with a face like that, how can you refuse? :(

[bittersw33t-lotus]

Surprise

Ghosting pt. 1

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader

Cw: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion, angst, arguments, abandonment, younger Simon, story takes place when he’s 25 and you’re 23.

Part 2 here

“kids?”

“What about them?”

“Would you ever want any?”

It was yours and Simon your one year anniversary. It was nothing special, just some takeout and card games with a movie playing in the back. You don’t know how the conversation of your futures came to be but you both knew it had to be said at some point in your relationship. You asked what Simon planned to do once he got older and retired from the military. He asked you questions about your plans as you grew older. That’s when you decided to be the one to bring up the very question that tends to either strain or strengthen a relation, children.

“No. Hard pass. I don’t do well with them nor do I want any of my own.” He never meant to say it with such a rude tone but It didn’t bother you much. You knew that there was a deeper reason why with the way his brows furrowed and the tension in the shoulders. You wanted him to elaborate more but you decided against it.

“Yeah I’m not too keen on children. At least right now anyways.” You said placing down your card on the table as Simon continued to examine his cards to find a way to defeat you. He looked at you as you spoke your last words as you kept your eyes on your cards. You liked kids to a certain extent and wouldn’t mind one later on in your life as you settle down or just none at all. You tried not to let Simons words get to you, since you don’t mind a childless life, as long as you had Simon by your side, but sometimes there would be days where you felt lonely without Simon when he’s deployed to his job. There’s also days where you fear he’ll never come back home and you’d be left with nothing to remember him by but memories, pictures and his possessions. A kid would be something that not only would be a piece of him that breathes and moves but they would be the physical embodiment of yours and Simons’ love, something that would keep you two tied to each other.

As nice as a child with Simon would be, you respected his wishes and you would have to come to terms with it. It’ll just be you and Simon, growing old together in a little house on the far side of town where no one can bother you and it’ll just be you, your grumpy (eventual) husband and your animals to keep you company. Yeah, you could live with that.

Hopefully, if he doesn’t die on the job…

“It’ll just be the two of us and a bunch of animals.”

That’s how you’d thought it be. Until it wasn’t.

You sat there on your bed holding the white stick in your hand. The pink plus sign was burning your eyes. You could feel your stomach churning. What the hell were you gonna do? You were panicking. You had been throwing up the past few days, Simon suggested you’d go see a doctor worried you ate something bad or caught some stomach bug but you refused and said you’d be fine thinking it go away within a few days however more things surfaced on your body that caught your attention. You breast grew a cup bigger and felt sore as hell, you assumed it was due to your period, it was due to arrive in a week anyway but you still found it abnormal that your breast swelled up so much. When the week passed you figured it was delayed due to your little stomach bug but another week passed. That’s when the thoughts hit you. You couldn’t be right? There’s no way you could be pregnant. You and Simon were always careful.

That same day of realization you went to the drug store just to be sure. You brought three sticks and each one came out with the same pink plus sign appearing on the little box. What the hell were you gonna do? How were you going to tell Simon? Maybe you don’t. You can just get an abortion and get it over with. Well, maybe it’s best if you tell him either way. But the more you thought about the baby, the more harder it seemed for you to think about getting rid of it.

You never really made your decision on not having kids, you figured that when it happens it happens, but what about now? Simon doesn’t want a baby, but you’re pregnant with the child you created with the love of your life, Yours and Simons baby…

Tears prick your eyes as you stared at the stick. What are you going to do?

Simon was out drinking with his ‘comrades’ so you had some time to yourself before he came back. You needed to plan a time when you’d tell him. But you were beyond terrified. You know having this baby was putting your relationship with Simon at risk. But this was just as much of his doing as yours, but at the same time, your IUD should’ve prevented this from happening.

You tired to gain the courage in the past couple days since you’ve found out, to tell him but you never could. For days Simon could tell something was bothering you, and it wasn’t the sickness you had. It was something that was clouding your mind. He could see in your eyes that something was troubling you.

Simon had just returned to home from the bar, feeling dreadful about having to be deployed once again here in a couple of days, he doesn’t want to leave you. He hates it, he hated leaving you here all alone, he can’t be there to protect you, hold you and love you but his job makes it worth it if it means you get everything you deserve. Even if he isn’t around for long periods at a time.

As he walks into the house you greet him with a smile, he’s a little tipsy but just barely since he still had to drive home, he did enjoy his time with Price, Soap and Gaz though. Even if he didn’t outright admit it.

“How’d it go?” You asked him as you approach him with a small smile. You’re too nervous to give him his usual greeting kiss which made Simon’s suspicions of your worry confirmed.

“It was fine, not too shabby and the boys were okay as usual. I need to ask you something.” He said glancing your direction aa he looks into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind, he cups your face gently as he approached you. He saw your body tense up, you tried to save yourself by quickly relaxing before Simon could see but it was too late, he already did. That was his que. “There’s something bothering you, I can see it. You know you can’t hide things from me and I understand you don’t wanna talk about it but at least let me help you the way you help me.”

Your throat grew dry, ‘Shit.’ You thought. You could feel your anxiety flow through your nerves as your hand began to tremble slightly. Your silence worried Simon. “Yn…” He called out but you stood silent.

‘It’s now or never, i can’t hide this forever, not when I start to show.” You thought, Simons hand gently rubbed your cheekbones which brought your attention back to him. Your teary gaze met his concerned ones. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry…” You quivered out. You tried to keep your composure but the hormones betrayed your body. “For what? What happened love?” He grew more worried as the tears rolled down your face. He wiped them away with his fingers as he cradled your face, as you both stare into the others gaze. “You promise you won’t be mad, I’m scared you’re gonna hate me, leave me and…” You whisper but Simon cuts you off as he leaned down to take your lips into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling away you look at him such vulnerability as you wrap your hands around Simons wrist gently. “I won’t.” He whispers back to you, his eyes filled with concern and love in his eyes. It makes your heart break thinking about what can happen next.

Your breath hitched before you inhaled and closed your eyes leaning into Simons touch. “I’m pregnant…” it was silent for a hot second. You felt his hands stiffen up but quickly relax as he looked a bit surprised. Your IUD should’ve been working, but he can’t blame you, there’s still a small chance.

“Have you made an appointment?” He asked after a long silence.

“For what?” You look up nervously, your guts telling you things were going downhill soon now, it’s too late you’ve already made up your mind.

“To get rid of it.” He asks you confused but something was telling him something else is going on. It was dead silence after that, you didn’t even need to say anything, the look in your eyes were enough to tell Simon what your intentions were. His hands were stiff it almost felt like a mannequins hands were placed on your face but then they were quickly snatched away from your grasp and face. You gasped lightly at the action. He took two long strides away from you, his eyes were slightly wide and had a blank look in them as he stared at you.

You wanted to call out to him but his eyes alone were enough to tell you that he was about to run. Your heart throbbed and your stomach began to churn again. More tears began to flow and obscure your vision. “Simon…” You called out to him, you refrained from walking towards him, terrified that one wrong move and he’d run and leave you in the dust. But it seemed to trigger him.

His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes began to show frustration. “No.” He shook his head as you sobbed. “Dammit yn I thought we established this. You promised!” He began to raise his voice, his fear coming to light. Not only was your relationship beginning to strain but you were planning to bring a child into this world. His child. All he could think about was his father and his family something he doesn’t want to experience or risk history to repeat itself.

“I’m sorry Simon but I never made a promise! But I truly didn’t mean for this to happened but it did and when I thought about having an abortion I couldn’t bear that thought of it. I know what we had in mind was to not have any kids but I can’t bring myself to get rid of our baby.”

“No we agreed that we’d have no kids, for Christ sake, I’m always at base and deployed. I can die and leave you to raise a baby alone. And I’m not ready to care for a baby, nor did I ever plan on having one.” He didn’t yell but his voice sounded distant like he was guarded. Like how he used to be when you first met him back in high school, stiff as a stone with years and layers of built up walls around him to keep anybody out from his heart and mind, a troubled Simon who was haunted by his abusive father wanting to save his mother and brother the ones who are now six feet under. One that took you years to slowly tear down and let him trust you with more than one few but big bumble in the road but in the end you never gave up on him and always stuck by his side. “I can’t do this.” He didn’t sound like your Simon anymore. He sounded like Ghost now. The Ghost he separated you from, the Ghost that was cold hearted and never cared about anything or anyone else but getting his priorities done and missions finished.

Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?” Your voice quivered. Ghost didn’t even bother to answer you he made his way to the bedroom. “Simon please!” You treaded after him, your anxiety surfacing again.

You walked into the bedroom to see him reaching into the closet and pulling out his bag, already packed with all the gears and items he needed for his deployment. Slumping the strap over his shoulder as you watched made your throat tighten.

It was nothing but silence the whole time as you watched Simon pack away a last minute items he’d need. You watched as he began to tie on his boots. “You’re right,” you finally spoke. Your voice soft as you tried not to let out a sob. “You don’t have to do this, you can keep doing what you do. I’ll keep the baby without you.” Simon just sat there listening to you as he kept his gaze glued to the ground. You couldn’t see what he was thinking with his Balaclava on now but you could see his fists clenched tightly. “I won’t make you go through this but just know, I still love you Simon, but I want this baby. You won’t hear from me asking you for anything at all. Just know once you walk out that door. I’ll be gone, unless you say something Simon...” you stand there staring at him hoping he’ll say something… anything. A sliver of wanting to be around at least or try to work something out but you know it’ll never come. He’s Simon, Ghost, he’s not, and may never be, mentally prepared nor does he have a lifestyle fit enough to raise a baby. Without a single noise Simon gets up and walks past you to the bedroom door, you watch his back, he doesn’t spare you a single glance before he walks out without another word.

After a few seconds, you hear his boots stomp down the stairs, the door opening and slamming shut. Your que to finally let all your sobbing out easing the pain in your throat. You sat on the floor holding your stomach. You were really on your own now. Just you and your baby.

You were lucky you managed to gain contact with your older sister, Stacy, she and her husband had welcomed you into their home with no hesitation, surprisingly. Granted you and your sister had some mending to do but it was mostly cause by your parents. Your mother had always founds way to turn you and your sister against one another when you two were younger. You both always fought and tried to better the other for praise of your mother she’d always compared one over the other, “Your sister is skinner than you,” “You eat like a pig, your sister eats better than you,” “your sister this” or “your sister that”. You mother always tried to make you two compete against the other that both physically and mentally damaged you both.

Your father never bothered with you two, you could never talk to him without every conversation ending in a some form of abuse or never in the right mindset being constantly high off his mind with drugs. But as you grew older you began to see the things your mother did to you and your sister but you never took the chance to make amends, your sister met her then boyfriend and ran away with him the first chance she got, you did the same when you met Simon.

“Are you alright?” She approaches you as you got out the car. The moment you came face to face with her you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and brushed into tears. “I’m sorry!” You cried out. “It’s okay.” She hushes you and cradled your head. “No it’s not, I should’ve talked to you, we should’ve made up long ago but I ran off…”

“And so did I!” She cut you off. “I was the one that ran off first, I was the one who left you in the dust for some guy that turned out to be a fraud. I chose a man over my own sister but I was too dumb to see it. We both made mistakes but now that we’re here, let’s take this chance to make it right.” She wiped your tears from your face. “Now tell me what wrong?” She asks you as you take a deep breath. “Simon left me.” You say, your sisters eyes widen in surprise and sympathy. “Well technically I left but we decided that we were through.”

“Why, what happened?” She asks you as she began to guide you to her house. As you make your way in you wipe your eyes as you think about the memory.

“I’m pregnant.” You start off, your sister is caught off guard and stunned, but she doesn’t speak and allows you to continue. “I found out not too long ago.”

You sister looks at you in shock. “Is that why… Simon…” she tries to ask, you know what she’s saying before you nod answering her question.

“Yeah, we’ve had the talk before. We agreed on no kids because he didn’t want any, me, I wasn’t too sure at the time but now, now I know, I do want this kid.” You say as you lay a hand on your stomach. “I don’t know what to do know. I told him and shit just went down hill. He made his choice and I made mine. I left home, he left because he’s currently on deployment but he’s made his choice not to be in the baby’s life. I gave him the choice to leave because I don’t want to force him into this since he never wanted any in the beginning.” You say, you sit on the soft couch as you both settled on conversing in the living room.

“He’s in the military?” She asks him a bit surprised, she’s still trying to process all this new information about your current situation and your now ex-boyfriend.

You nod your head and rub your eyes feeling the fatigue catch up to you from the past couple of days. You’ve nearly gotten a wink of sleep ever since Simon left, the past two days you were packing up all your things that you needed and wanted to take with you into your car, and you were stressing about where’d you go and be staying up until your Stacy, thankfully, responded back to you and offered you a place to stay at her house. “Yeah, he doesn’t tell me much about it. But from what I’ve seen every time he came back, it was always bad. He’d come home with bruises, sometimes wounds that sometimes looked to be fatal. It always scares me every time he goes, and I sometimes never know when he’ll be back, or if he’ll come back at all.” You explain to her. You leave out the part where he’d be a shell of himself, like a ghost possessing Simon, so unemotional, and you can never forget how scary it was seeing how empty his eyes looked sometimes.

Stacy looks at you, she’s processing all this and trying to her best to listen but she can tell that’s it’s a lot for her to take in. You don’t blame her, you two haven’t seen each other er for over five years, so there’s a lot of catching up to do. “I promise you I’ll only be here for a few months. I’ll find a place to stay for the baby and I before they’re born, we’ll be out of your hair soon.” You tell her quickly trying to reassure her that it’s only temporary and you’re not going to take advantage of your sister’s kindness and willing to help you out, you don’t wanna have the burden of having her worry about you and have a baby in the house. You’ve already become enough of a burden for Simon with the baby.

Stacy shakes her head and gently takes your hand and gently squeezes it. “Don’t worry about it. Take as much time as you need to get back on your feet. You got a kid to worry about now. And granted, it may be hard but I believe in you. You’re a strong woman, I know you can get through this, you always do. And even if you don’t, I’ll always be here to help you.” She says as she smiles at you fondly.

You feel so grateful for her. Your hormones have you all over the place both emotionally and physically. You’re on the verge of tears as you engulf Stacy into a hug once again. “Thanks Stac.” You say, your voice threatening to crack into a sob.

Stacy smiles at you and hugs you back. “Don’t thank me, you’re my little sister, family looks out for one another. Real family.”

꧁——————————꧂

Im debating if this series should have a twist to it. So stay tuned :)

[saphronethaleph]

Fascist, Thus Inefficient

“As you can see, my young apprentice, your friends have failed,” the Emperor said, triumph in his tone. “Now, witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational battle station!”

Luke looked at him in shock.

“Fire at will, Commander!” the Emperor said.

Fourteen months previously…

“Shipment IL-214-73 arriving,” a petty officer reported.

“Thank goodness,” muttered one of the technicians. “After the delays we’ve been having, we need to get those Khyber crystals into the third main focusing array. It’s been on the critical path for a week.”

He brought up the display, frowning. “All right, I think we can make up a bit of time if we just get them straight to cutting and installation.”

“Don’t we need to run them through the testing process first?” a more junior technician asked. “That’s on the list.”

“I know it’s on the list,” the senior tech replied. “But the list was written when they didn’t expect there’d be rebel attacks hitting our supply lines.”

He waved at the screen. “The testing process means heating each individual crystal up to eighteen hundred, even though we know Khyber can all handle temperatures of up to forty-seven-fifty. The cutting process doesn’t rely on heat tolerance either. Any crystalline flaws will come out in cutting, and we can just junk them. It means cutting takes a bit longer, but by going straight to cutting we can save at several hours on the overall process. And you know how much time we’ve lost already.”

The junior tech looked worried, then shook his head.

“All right,” he replied. “I guess so.”

“You need to learn how things are done in practice,” the senior tech said. “No big deal.”

Eleven months previously...

“I’m quite sure Rothana Heavy Engineering’s XJ-15 hypermatter feed systems will meet your needs better than the alternatives,” the Rothana representative said, as Admiral Jerjerrod examined the datasheet.

He wasn’t so sure. The newer units had better specifications, certainly, but they weren’t proven, and they were also somewhat more expensive.

“I don’t think that’s necessarily the case,” he said, out loud. “While I appreciate Rothana’s position, the Sienar alternative has similar flow rates and more proven applications.”

The Rothana representative nodded, sagely.

“I understand entirely,” he said. “However, I must point out that Rothana has some important additional information to present.”

He held out a credit chip, which Jerjerrod took and inspected.

“Owing to the XJ-15’s protracted development, we are willing to provide our test units at cost,” the representative went on. “That is in addition to having a higher production rate than our competitors and a less committed production output.”

Jerjerrod hesitated, then pocketed the credit chip.

“That all seems in order,” he said. “The XJ-15 it is.”

“Marvellous,” the representative declared.

Nine months previously...

“I’ve examined the records that exist from the first Death Star,” a senior technician said. “The amount of strain that was placed on the flash suppression systems was minimal to nonexistent. Even with the full firing that destroyed Alderaan, surviving records indicate that the flash suppressors had no more than a five percent load placed on them – an amount that can be handled by untreated durasteel.”

The other men and women in the meeting looked at the data on the screen behind their colleague.

“You’re suggesting we forego the duratemp treatment on the flash protection systems?” one of the women asked, cautiously. “I can see the advantages, but the downsides seem significant. I’d even say potentially destructive.”

“It is my position that the cost of including the duratemp treatment is unacceptable,” the tech replied. “It takes time and effort, including supervisory attention which cuts into the available man-hours on the project. We only have so much experienced manpower.”

That drew winces, though none of the humans in the room drew attention to the fact that they were spending a lot of that time in interminable meetings.

“In the following presentation, I’ll discuss my proposal and how it could shave as much as one week off the final completion timetable,” the senior tech continued, flicking to the next screen of his presentation. “This model shows how the flash suppression systems are built around the main weapon…”

Six months previously…

“There simply isn’t an option,” the head of personnel replied. “Our existing system is not providing enough technicians and operators.”

“This was quite sufficient for the first Death Star,” Jerjerrod protested.

“The first Death Star was a project that took decades,” the manager replied, shrugging. “It didn’t come up at first, sir – for that I apologize – but if we are going to redress the problem, we need to act now. There is no alternative.”

Jerjerrod rubbed his temples, thinking about the problem.

The fully functional Death Star was going to need hundreds of thousands of qualified technicians and operators, familiar with the systems of the vast battle station, and so many of the men who knew much about the Death Star at the moment were busy building it.

There hadn’t been many left after the destruction of the first battle station, because most of them had been working on it at the time.

“All right,” he said. “So your proposal is…?”

“We keep the same number of trainers for now, but abbreviate the course,” the manager answered. “Two months – at most. Then we have the new graduates train the next batch for two months, and so on. Exponential growth. At twenty students per instructor and a hundred instructors to start with, we’ll end up with eight hundred thousand in six months.”

That was extremely tempting… they wouldn’t be anything like the equal of what they should be, but they could learn on the job.

“All right,” Jerjerrod said. “Approved – see to it.”

One month previously…

“Next item on the checklist?” Commander Jaskier asked.

“Step one hundred and seven,” Technician Mils replied. “Self test.”

She pressed the self-test button, and the computer system clicked and flickered as it ran through the diagnostics.

Data results and readouts went up on the screen, and Jaskier and all the others in the control station watched the results.

None of them had any comment to make about the numbers. The checklist said to run the self test, so that was what they were doing.

“Step one hundred and eight,” Mils went on. “Sign off on results.”

She did that, as well, and Jaskier nodded.

“Good,” he said. “And I believe we’ve finished that half an hour ahead of schedule! Good work, everyone.”

Now.

The firing commands flashed out through the Death Star’s systems, triggering a cascade of further commands, and the whole massive battle station’s main superlaser woke for the first time.

Fifty XJ-15 hypermatter flow regulators controlled the flow of energy from the power core into the power collectors, and the energy being channelled into the system surged rapidly – rising to one hundred and eighteen percent of nominal, above what would have been anticipated, and greater than the one hundred and two percent that the older, more proven Sienar systems would have generated.

Thousands of high powered beams were generated, controlled and focused through an enormous array of Khyber crystals… a small but measurable fraction of which were cheap industrially grown diamonds instead, added to the shipments by subcontractors eager to stretch out their production from the strip-mined planet of Ilum without running so late on their deliveries that financial penalties were imposed.

None of the technicians who were in a position to spot the problem at this stage were actually capable of doing so. Their necessarily abbreviated training had mostly been on what buttons to push, and nobody had the deeper knowledge of the systems to recognize that the system was in an anomalous state.

Then some of the diamonds shattered under the load, allowing the beams free to damage adjacent systems, and in moments the whole of the energy drawn from the hypermatter core was unleashed.

The flash suppression systems were wholly, and fatally, inadequate.

“Watch yourself, Wedge!” Lando called, his head on a swivel, and banked the Falcon around so his ventral turret gunner could clear off one of the TIEs attacking Red Leader. “We’ve got to-”

Then there was a sudden blinding flash, and Lando did a double-take.

The Death Star’s protective shield was instantly, and dramatically, visible – because the entire inside of it was full of plasma and flame, lighting it up as clearly as Ackbar’s briefing had done back before the operation was launched in the first place. Then something blew up on the surface of the forest moon as the plasma followed the funnel of the shield, and the explosive force was no longer contained but began to drift out into space.

“...the kriff?” Lando asked, eventually. “What just happened?”

“Ow,” Darth Vader said, indistinctly, reaching up to feel his helmet, which had been crushed in by an impact with the ceiling.

The Emperor’s throne room seemed to mostly be intact, though there was an Emperor-shaped hole in the window nearest his throne, and Luke had his hands out to either side as he stood on the wall.

“Father, are you all right?” the younger Skywalker asked.

“What happened?” Vader replied. “I remember the Emperor ordering that the Death Star should fire…”

“I don’t know, it exploded just after he said that,” Luke answered. “It turns out that overconfidence was his weakness… do you have any idea where the nearest spaceship is? Keeping the atmosphere in is tiring me out a bit.”

[lucysarah-c]

Levi's horrible flirting skills part 8.

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

“So... King’s anniversary’s coronation. Are you coming?” Erwin casually dropped the question without a clear addressee, or at least in Levi’s opinion, as he played with a pen while waiting for the early morning meeting to end. He had only slept a very counted number of hours. 

But as the silence reigned, it made him raise his attention, fearing that the question was directed at him. And indeed, it was. Erwin was looking at him. 

“Are you coming?” Erwin insisted. “I don’t think I’ve to remind you how important this event is.” 

Escaping the intense blue eyes, Levi pretended to be interested in anything else inside the room. “I... I’m rather busy. I’ve got a lot of delayed paperwork I should work on over the weekend.” 

The commander looked exhausted as he stared back at him, the invitation slowly dropping onto the table. “I’m sure your boss, me, wouldn’t mind you presenting your work a couple of days later.” 

“You don’t know my boss.” 

Erwin sighed loudly and put away the letter with the invitation. “You know, very influential and powerful people attend these events. It would be great for the Scouts’ economy if you could go and land us some donations.” 

He passed his plus-one invitation to Hange so they could try to get some donations for their titan investigations. Levi fought the urge to roll his eyes as Erwin’s speech was so frequent and repeated, like a mother angry at returning home to find the dishes not cleaned. 

“You know that me and influential filthy pigs don’t get along.” 

“Hey, I’ve been part of the Scouts longer, and he gets his own invitation while I get a plus-one?” The brunette complained. 

“’Cause you’re not Humanity’s strongest?” Levi asked back with a raised eyebrow. “If you want it, I’ll gladly give you that stupid invitation.” 

“Ugh, since that title landed you a date with that nurse of yours, you’ve gotten cocky about it,” Hange pointed out playfully, intending to get on Levi’s last nerve. 

Erwin chuckled as Levi squinted his eyes. “She didn’t go out with me because of it.” 

“Not even you believe that,” unlikely of him, Erwin joined in on the joke, making Levi roll his eyes and frown deeply. 

“You two are just so fucking jealous. When was the last time any of your titles or medals got you a chick?” 

The other two’s silence spoke volumes as they searched for a proper comeback. 

He began to notice the small changes, like when they met again in a hallway. She greeted him first over Erwin and, very important detail, she still called him “captain,” but Levi swore it had an underlying sexy accent to it... or at least that’s what he liked to believe. 

The first rule in the animal world is to land her interest; the second one? Maintain it. That means marking territory. This time subtly, he was not committing the same mistake twice. 

How many hours was Levi sleeping to manage getting his paperwork done, his work as a captain, and trying to pay her as many visits as he could when he was over at the Capital for meetings? None, but at least he made sure a good couple of the MPs, who also walked around the hospital trying to land a nurse girlfriend, would think twice before approaching her. 

“You want scones? It was my day for buying supplies for the staff room,” she commented while moving around, preparing tea. Levi was there doing paperwork he brought with him. Balancing both of their schedules wasn’t particularly easy, and perhaps that’s why their second date was just going to be a little after-work dinner. 

‘Maybe... it’s my moment to casually imply that I don’t have a sweet tooth.’ 

“I don’t like sweet stuff, actually.” 

‘...great, just great.’ 

The confusion was all over her face as she turned around. “Oh...” she softly frowned as she gave it a deeper thought, “...but I gifted you a cake.” 

“Yeah.” 

Lips pressed together as she stared at him. “You could just tell me.” 

‘Yeah well, the time I tried to just tell ya, you got angry at me for a good fucking time, so perhaps it wasn’t the best idea.’ 

How many times had he seen the same picture he had right in front of him, only separated by a couple of steps? Eyes rolling and clicking his tongue, finding it so idiotic that it was even annoying. The only sort of speech he could come up with for his own defense was that “he wasn’t in service,” and usually they were. 

Yes, they. Military police members walking around downtown without the jackets of the uniform on, but instead, the green unicorn swinging as any of their girls walked around with them on their shoulders. 

There she was, the wings of freedom adorning her back. The sleeves weren’t on, just the shoulder pads casually resting on hers, preventing it from falling but not secured enough. ‘It’s like too cold... but too warm for my coat,’ she had mentioned as they exited the building, doing honor to the season where taking the winter coat early in the morning is a good idea but, by afternoon, it hangs on your arm. 

“Here,” he had said, and before he knew it, he was seeing her walking slightly ahead of him with the jackets contrasting against her doveish uniform. 

Marking territory, isn’t it all about that? Especially at the Capital, where all the MPs are looking at them as if they were the most absurd of all couples or perhaps it’s just plain jealousy. 

“You’re going to love them! The food is so good, and the portions are huge,” she commented behind him as she guided him through streets it was rather obvious she knew better than him. As the sky turned coral, with days getting longer, the golden hour only helped highlight how cute he found her like that. 

‘I’ve become what I swore to destroy...’ 

“I’m asking for a small one because if I eat too much, I am gonna fall asleep, and today I’ve got night service,” she commented, looking at the options at the street stand. 

‘Thank god her suggestion wasn’t some stupidly fancy shop at Mitras that would force me to eat plain rice for the rest of the month.’ 

“You work tonight?” he commented back as he decided what to eat. 

“Yes, there are a lot of mothers who reported feeling contractions. I may be working all night,” she replied before pointing, “If you like spicy, those sauces are great.” 

He handed the money to the owner as he received both options and passed hers forward with his left hand. 

“Thank you~” she sang, smiling back at him. 

“You’re welcome,” he muttered as he put away the change back in his wallet. 

‘Havin’ a girlfriend is expensive.’ 

He felt the tug from his arm as she gripped his hand and began to guide him. “Come on, I know a good spot at the park,” she said enthusiastically as she hand-hold dragged him. 

Her hand felt stupidly soft against his, he thought, and delicate as if the absurd feeling of breaking it crossed his mind. 

‘...but 100% worth it.’ 

He let her drag him, mostly because she could hardly even dream of moving him if he refused, but if she wished to get him somewhere, he would just let her have it. 

‘I’ve to give it to them... the Capital is full of classist snob jerks, but the places are fucking nice,’ he thought, recalling how the downtown closer to the Scouts�� facility at  

Wall Rose always smelled like horse dung, the little poor town always looked a bit grey, and there wasn’t much to do there. In contrast, the huge park with well-kept green grass, flowers, kids with expensive uniforms, statues, and decorated benches like the one they were sitting on marked a difference, especially since that place received the early spring sun directly. 

‘There go my taxes.’ 

“MH-” she hummed, passing down a bite from her meal, “You want to taste mine?” 

Pushing her option in his direction for him to take a bite, Levi checked their surroundings and felt the shame of perhaps someone seeing him doing that, but he soon began to suspect that keeping a relationship would require him to start doing a lot of embarrassing stuff. He took one bite and hummed in agreement. 

Swallowing, he said with his usual monotone voice, “Wanna taste mine?” 

As she bent forward to take a bite, Levi forced himself to look away as perhaps there were too many kids around to even think it. 

‘Why when she offers it, it’s cute, and when I do it, I sound like a fucking pervert?’ 

“Mhhm, very good, I like yours. It’s more creamy!” 

‘...stop it, please.’ 

As they ate, he asked, “Do you like kids?” 

She turned around, confused, almost shocked. “Fuck—no. I didn’t mean it like that,” Levi quickly realized how odd that sounded. “I mean, the Midwife path is hard, so you must like kids a lot.” 

‘I mean if you want to reply to the other question, it’s also valid... I like kids very fucking much, let me know when you’re willing to start practicing,’ he thought. 

“Ah!” she exclaimed, understanding he referred to their previous conversation about her prospects of work tonight. “I became an orphan very young; both of my parents were very old when they decided to have me, so they passed away before I finished my studies. And midwifery is a very necessary but judged profession. Most of my coworkers can’t do it because their husbands or fathers think it’s inappropriate for a girl to be around strangers’ houses in the middle of the night.” 

“So... since I’ve nobody to tell me what I can or can’t do, I decided I should do it,” she replied to him. “This is a good time to tell you, I guess, that I’m not dropping my career.” 

Levi shook his head. “I don’t mind it.” 

“That’s why I went to Erwin’s office the other time,” she commented, making Levi frown, recalling the scene. “He was helping me write a project to present to the higher ranks.” 

Her enthusiasm dropped slightly. “But... they didn’t accept it. I felt so bad.” 

“Ah, that was why you were all weeping when we returned from the expedition?” he dropped the detail, but mostly because the idea was still lingering in his head. 

One hand covered her mouth, and then she blushed. “Ah! You saw that?! So embarrassing,” she said, giving a subtle little hit on his arm playfully. “Why didn’t those morons accept it?” 

She shrugged with a soft sigh. “They said something about the government resources not being enough for that proposal.” 

“Tch, they have money for their stupid events but not for this? What did you propose?” 

“Ugh... mh.hmp,” she seemed reluctant to reply and hummed incoherently. “I... don’t want to offend you.” 

Levi frowned deeply but raised a single eyebrow as a silent question. 

“It was about doing campaigns of pre-natal check-ups on the underground pregnant women. Sometimes they have difficult pregnancies, and the lucky ones are dragged up here if they have some connections when the situation is already unsalvageable. The pre-natal non-permanent posts are all around the walls except there... but, well, I told you their resolution,” she scratched the side of her neck nervously as she explained.  

“Probably because we will have to bring security to go, and MPs do not want to participate.” 

“Why would that offend me?” Levi spat out the question as her nervousness appeared ridiculous. 

“Oh well... I thought that perhaps it’s a sensitive topic for you, and I didn’t want to ruin the mood.” 

“I’m not that soft,” Levi replied quietly, but he felt completely different. He knew she was kind-hearted, but it warmed him that, despite the idea not reaching far, at least there were people trying to change something. “You should keep trying until those assholes listen to you.” 

She hummed positively. “You could try to change their minds,” she suggested between chuckles. 

Levi scoffed. “Talk to Erwin; he’s the one who doesn’t allow me to beat their asses.” 

‘Everything is going so well... it’s suspicious.’ 

“Oh! Careful!” she said, catching his attention before she ran her finger through his chin and then sucked it clean. “You’re going to dirty your shirt’s neck.” 

‘... just let me fuck you already, I’m on my knees.’ 

“I was thinking...” she started, turning around to look at him, doll eyes and a cheeky smile. “Maybe we could hang out this upcoming weekend. The celebrations for the king’s coronation will be ongoing all night all around the walls. I thought that maybe we could stroll around too.” 

Levi was already sweating cold; she was taking the initiative, inviting him out... there was only one issue. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice?” 

“Ehm—” 

‘Think of an excuse, you asshole.’ 

“I... I actually have to stay at my place that weekend,” he said, but his last words were quickly followed by a soft pout, puppy eyes, and a subtle “Ow,” from her. Levi wasn’t usually a person to give excuses or unnecessarily explain himself. 

‘Oh shit, it’s not that I don’t want to—it’s just that—’ 

“I had this stupid invitation to the higher-ranks party whatsoever and—” 

‘And I’m kinda escaping my responsibility of attending that shitty party that’s why—oh... oh no,’ he thought. 

Her eyes began to shine, and the smile returned to her features. “Oh my god, you’re going to the official party?” 

‘No... no I wasn’t going—that’s the whole point,’ he thought. 

“I always wanted to go to one of those,” she said with a dreamy stare, her voice subtle and soft, almost begging but not quite. 

‘No, for fuck’s sake, don’t look at me like that.’ 

— 

“These are the preparations for the upcoming week, and I’ve already reviewed your paperwork, and they seem alright,” Erwin reorganized the piles of paper in front of him quickly for the other soldier. 

Slender fingers picked it up, returning to the door’s direction, yet the pace was rather odd, and the fingers tapped the new papers with uneasiness. Erwin didn’t pay it much mind as he returned to filling out the multiple letters he needed to get ready so they would be sent first thing the upcoming morning. Spreading dust over the black ink so it would dry quicker, his movements were controlled yet rushed. 

“So... I was wondering... do you still have that invitation?” 

Those words made the blond freeze up mid-movement. He slowly looked up at Levi, who was standing in the middle of his office. Each second that passed, announced by the clock, changed the Commander’s expression from confused to angry as his thick eyebrows drew together. 

Straightening up but not saying a word, his fingers intertwined. “Tell me, Levi... how many years have you worked with the scouts?” 

“Tch,” Levi switched his weight from one leg to the other, arms crossing on top of his chest. Levi rolled his eyes, annoyed, “What does that even matter? Five.” 

“Ah, yes, I see,” Erwin muttered as if he didn’t already know the answer. “And how many balls, parties, and official events have you been invited to?” 

The Captain had a feeling where this was going and only frowned deeply. “Many... all of them.” 

“Yes, that’s correct,” the blond confirmed slowly as if the information needed to sink in. “You see, I’m asking because it seems like I must be losing my memory... because I can’t recall a single damn time you went to any of those events without me having to coerce you into it.” 

“When I don’t go to those shitty events, it’s about me not supporting the scouts. When I decide to fucking go, it’s also an issue?” 

“No, no, no, no,” Erwin clicked his tongue repeatedly, “You didn’t decide to go... she wants to go, isn’t it?” 

Silence. Reigning silence. 

“Are you making me a jealousy scene?” Levi raised an eyebrow, confused. 

“No, I just can’t believe that as your boss and friend, I’ve begged you all this time to go to those events, and you’re going because a girl—my friend—asked you to. You’re so henpecked it should give you secondhand embarrassment.” 

“Fine! Yes, yes, I’m doing it for her. Happy?” Levi replied, offended. “In a week and a half, we’re leaving for an expedition, and I’ve not even seen a shitty ankle! Fucking excuse me for trying to get laid before I risk my life out there with one of your suicidal plans! Maybe I should get out of here and ask Mike what type of stupid bullshit you did to get Marie’s attention.” 

The battle of stares was over when, reluctantly, Erwin pulled out the invitation from his drawer and handed it over, “Here, thank you for reconsidering it.” 

“You’re welcome... I’m in favor of the plans for the upcoming expedition, by the way,” Levi walked back to the desk to pick up the letter and replied as he took the piece of paper with him. 

“Glad to hear.” 

And the two of them carried on with their responsibilities as if neither of them had ever mentioned anything. 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[kithtaehyung]

bet wrong (3tan717) | myg

drabble: bet wrong pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 | one  rating/genre: pg (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after seeing how comfortable yoongi is in his place with your brother and their friends, it’s hard for you to leave… but it’s also hard for you to stay. note: apologies for all the late postings! but kim yeji’s aura was so strong it made me write about her so here we are hahaha. it's not really edited cus i just wrote this up and posted so apologies for any mistakes! note 2: this is in a pocket universe in the three tangerines series, so if you haven’t read the series yet, these characters would make more sense if you did hehe. even though this is very heavily influenced by the olympics, i’m keeping it as easy to read as i can. you can imagine them watching any of the events happening lol warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, angst, olympics talk, yoongi fights back??, the Yearning is Strong, reader is a tease, shiv is back!, brother and jimin are dorks, but so is everyone else, yoongi on the phone, he's so down bad y'all i wanna cry :(( drop date: august 1st, 2024, 7:17pm est word count: 2.3k (just like the first drabble omg?)

—

—

“Hey, you made it!”

“Oh, shit, look who’s here!”

After a quick greeting to everyone in Yoongi’s living room, you slip off your shoes with a distracted, “I can’t stay long but, I’m here!”

Even though the handsome devil next to you shoots a look, it’s your brother that speaks up, “Wait, why?”

“I’m meeting my friends in a bit.” You hand a still-quiet Yoongi some snacks you brought for everyone, asking a question with a very obvious answer, “Where should I put these?”

He blinks before forcing out, “Over here.”

“K.”

Sounds of conversation and sports games spring about. Jimin’s clearly in some sort of squabble with your brother and Shiv is fanning the flames. There’s a couple guys you recognize but don’t really know talking on the opposite side of the coffee table, but they’re all watching the Olympics and giving their own comments. 

Hopefully it’s noisy enough to shroud your dizzying thoughts. Because Yoongi looks damn good in his casual fit and his hair speaks volumes. 

What you would give to run your fingers through those waves. Following him through his bustling apartment is already giving you the shivers, so what would a sudden touch feel like? A burst of fire?

“I’ll take those,” he instructs, taking the bags from you and pulling everything out with crinkles. When he sees a certain bag, his blinks make you giggle.

It’s a specific chip he likes, recently divulged during a long night of learning things about one another—like favorite foods, and how fast or slow he likes you riding. 

So of course you threw it in your basket before heading over. 

Commentators make conversation on the television as you shrug, “Don’t ask me, I dunno how those got in there.”

God, that smile always makes you melt. And he proceeds to turn you into mush as he shows gratitude under his breath,

“Thanks, doll.”

“Seriously, I think they just handed me those,” you joke, trying your best to not do any of the million and three things you want to. “Said I was cute or something.”

His laugh is immediate. But it’s shoved away by cheers and yells, and both of you pop out of the kitchen to see what happened on the tv.

Something big must have went down because even Yoongi reacts, scaring you with a delayed reaction,

“Holy shit, what happened? Sorry,” he immediately apologizes at your flinch, putting a daring but comforting hand on your lower back before making his way to the group.

Did he really just…

He is lucky your brother didn’t see from the other side of the couch. 

That was the boldest Yoongi’s ever been and he’s quite literally kissed you in your kitchen. 

“Yeji got silver.”

“What? Wait, run it back!”

“I thought she'd take it!"

Chill out. Relax, relax, relax. Everyone else is clearly entranced by whatever happened and no one is even looking at you. Relax.

But damn, that touch meant a lot more than an apology. 

Seems like the one vocally surprised at the replay wants to do a million and three things, too. 

On your emotional decrescendo, you scuttle back to grab a plastic cup. No use in trying to join them anyway. All you can do for now is get a drink in a kitchen you’re not supposed to know your way around.

Being in his place while your brother is too is quite the experience. 

However. 

This is absolutely the ideal situation you should be in. You would be the one showing up at Yoongi’s at the invitation of your brother, and it would be a small party where you blend right into the background with minimal interaction. 

But of course, the feelings of distance and guilt creep onto your feet, rooting you in place and forcing you to watch from afar. 

They’re all checking their phones and pointing at each other—accusingly? Excitedly?—before switching between different games on the tv and yelling at each other. 

And while you adore them for being such lovable geeks about this, your eyes cannot stop pinning Yoongi with longing. He’s so radiant doing the most normal things, and his eyes have that sparkle they get when he’s comfortable and at home. 

He’s perfect.

Your heart’s warm.

And the cup in your hand never touches your mouth.

—

—

After you take a seat at his dining table—yet another thing you should not know anything about—you cycle between watching them interact and scrolling on your apps. 

At first, you thought you were safe. Staying in the back and letting them have their own time together is good enough for you, especially since you were invited by your brother to stop by.

Really, you were just a courier for food they wanted. 

But it was on the way. And it’s a chance to see someone you’ve been missing.

So of course you faked reluctance to come.

The plan was to do exactly this. Hang back until you had to leave, maybe have a bite or two, and try hard not to yearn for Yoongi too long.

Failed step three.

But also now step one, because Shiv decides to twist around to yell, “Hey! Come join us!” 

“I’m good over here,” you reply, smiling when he gives you a look. 

“Suit yourself!” 

One of the guys you recognize but don’t really know gets off the couch to head into the kitchen, asking a question as he opens the fridge.

Wait, he’s asking you something? You?

You leave your chair so you can hear him better, and when he repeats his question you respond.

“Want a drink?”

“Oh, uhh. Sure.”

“Pick your poison. Yoongi doesn’t have much but it’s all strong.”

He’s pretty cute. But then again, all your brother’s friends seem to end up this way. “Water’s fine,” you say with a light smile. “I have to be somewhere else in a minute.”

“Leaving so soon?” He grabs a cup to fill with your choice before handing it over. Leaning against the same counter Yoongi has smushed you against many times, the man takes a sip of his beer. “You just got here.”

“I was told to bring food.”

“Ah, come on. You can stay a bit.”

Uh huh.

Bold choice to be flirting with the company present today.

But you know what to do. Swerve. “What even happened back there? You guys scared the shit outta me.”

From the creases of his eyes, your plan works. “Oh, Yeji? She was supposed to win gold.”

“Feel like she won anyway.”

You both snap your heads over to the kitchen threshold, and your stomach could win a floor routine with the amount of flips it completes. “How come?” You decide to ask, throwing both guys for a loop.

It’s Yoongi that responds first, “She’s trending from a video back in May.”

“Oh, shit, really?” 

“Fucking boss. But yeah, none of us got that one right,” his friend responds, which leaves you intrigued. 

“Got it right?”

“Mmhmm. We picked her for gold.” Glancing over at Yoongi now crossing between to get to his fridge, he claps his back. “Even this guy bet wrong and he’s usually right.”

“Bet with my heart,” your secret drones as he cracks open a bottle. 

“We all did, bro.”

Fucking hell, that move was hotter than it should’ve been.

But now you’re kinda invested in what they’re all doing, so you ask how the whole thing works.

Which leads you to sitting in the living room with everyone three whole minutes later.

“So all of these are events, and I pick what I think happens?”

“Yup!”

“Good luck.”

“Choose quick, the next games start soon.”

Everyone’s eyes are on your paper as you look at the options, with some laughs and comments as you circle your choices.

“Mm, I dunno about that one.”

“Hey, hey, no help.”

You glance at your brother and Yoongi before laughing, “I have no idea what I’m doing but this is fun.”

Their amusement is noticeable.

“If you get any of those right, I’ll be surprised,” your sibling teases, earning a laugh from Yoongi and a counterpoint from Jimin,

“Dark horse?”

“Nah, no chance.”

Park’s shoulders raise as he smirks. “It's all luck, you never know..”

Huffing, you pretend to have confidence for days, just happy that you get to be involved and not hang back like the initial plan. “Yeah, I have masterclass intuition, don’t you know?” 

Reactions pop and fizz around you.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Master class, huh..”

“We have a hustler here!”

Your eyes drift to Yoongi’s at Shiv's comment, and you both share a quick, mirth-filled, intimate stare.

This really is a lot more fun already. 

Your phone buzzing is the one thing that interrupts, and you immediately feel relieved and saddened by the fact that you have to go.

Finishing up, you hand your brother your picks before standing, heading to the door and saying that you have to leave. 

“Wait, already?”

“Tell them you’re busy!”

“I kinda want to,” you admit, feeling a little shy at all the eyes on you. “But we’re watching a movie and tickets are stupid expensive now.”

Yoongi’s already next to you as he waits to let you out. “You okay to drive?”

“Me? Oh, yeah, I just had water.”

“K.”

Why does he have to be so considerate right now? Now you just wanna stay here instead of sit through whatever movie your friends picked!

“Be careful,” your brother comments from the living room, and you wave goodbye.

“I will. Y’all have fun!”

“Okay!”

Facing Yoongi, you wanna do so many things. Hug him, hold him, kiss the shit out of him for his exuding presence in the kitchen earlier. 

“Thanks for the food.”

But you obviously can’t.

So you settle for giving him a smile. “Thanks for letting me come over,” you decide to say. “Have fun tonight.”

You get a small lift of his lips in return. “You, too.”

“Yeah.. I’ll try.”

Hearing sounds from outside as you walk to your car, you feel the loneliest imaginable. 

But alas.

It’s still not your place to stay.

—

—

Much, much later, you check your phone after the movie ends and you’re all walking out. While the girls are busy discussing the movie and Taehyung's checking his phone, you're greeted with two very surprising keystrokes.

Yoongi [9:30pm]: :( 

He texted that so long ago. Did something happen?

You [10:34pm]: you ok?

All of you talk for just a little longer. When you finally get into your car, you wave goodbye at everyone before looking at your device again, wondering what the heck warranted this rogue of a text.

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Yeah

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Just miss you

Well, fuck.

Heart clenching, your fingers skirt across the screen.

You [10:45pm]: i miss you too.. i didn’t wanna leave😭

Yoongi [10:45pm]: You did though😔

There are plenty of people in the lot. Many people walking past as you wait in your car. 

And all you can do is stare at your screen. 

Is… Is he drunk?

Yoongi [10:46pm]: So now you have to make it up to me :) 

That catches you so off-guard you scoff at your screen through a smile. 

You [10:46pm]: don’t be a loser!! 

Yoongi [10:46pm]: I’m your loser 

Cheeks hurting from your shy as hell grin, you bite your lip to keep your screams from alerting people in the nearby theatre. 

How dare this man be this bold when your brother is over there! 

If he’s gonna keep this shocking behavior up, who are you to not play into it? You fucking miss him and imagining being there and being yourselves—your true selves—makes your chest clench. 

You [10:46pm]: not today you weren’t :\

And now you have to make the drive to a house that no one's occupying.

This is so hard. So, so hard. 

But you have to keep going until that one day comes. If it ever does. The day you can do whatever you want with the man you’d fight the universe for? No one will know how to react, and frankly you don’t give a shit about that.

And then you wonder.

Does Yoongi feel the same?

Yoongi [10:48pm]: They're still here

Yoongi [10:48pm]: You down to come back?

Oh.

You are.

Yes, yes, yes you are.

Grateful eyes shut, forehead hitting your steering wheel and heart hurting but still burning lovingly.

There’s no fighting how desperately you want to see him. Especially after seeing him so happy earlier today. Of course you’re going to go. You’d cross mountains even if that meant you’d only get to see him from afar. 

Because—and this you know for sure—he would do the same. 

...But that doesn't mean you won't prank him just a little bit.

You [10:49pm]: don't bet on it w ur heart again💕

Buzzing with excitement, you start your car and pull out of the lot, calling your brother and letting him know you’re coming back.

“K! You gonna bring food again?”

Normally, you would say fuck no and hang up. But you’re so elated you get to go back, and imagining Yoongi's shock makes you laugh. “Yeah, yeah, what do y’all want?” 

“Wait, really? Hey! What do we want for dinner—”

“Wait!” You interject, something pinging into your mind and igniting your curiosity. “How are my picks doing?” 

There’s a scuffle on the line, and you can hear your brother complain, Jimin laugh, and a very, very familiar voice answer from your brother’s phone. 

Because Yoongi’s voice drones so beautifully through the speaker, and you can’t stop your cackling when he responds, 

“Turns out Jimin was right.” 

“Damn, I'm the best,” you boast, earning a loud laugh from him and welcoming the way your cheeks hurt with open arms. “Show me that video you were talking about when I get there?”

This is safe to say. It's all you really can say.

There's a little bit of silence before he answers how he can, too.

“Yeah, I will.” 

Mm. Maybe Yoongi does feel the same.

“Nice," you whisper. Lips curved up in hope, you keep your voice neutral, “See you soon!” 

Again, he responds how he's supposed to. And right after, you both hang up exactly as expected.

For now.

“See you soon.” 

—

—

—

fin. :)

-

how did the second 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe | three tangerines

a/n: love you love you love you. that's really all i can say. but also, here's the video of kim yeji being an absolute badass in may and i cannot stop thinking about her GAHHHHHH and now the guy from turkey?? hello?? this year is so fun and interesting istg!!

[heich0e]

Keep talking about poly!sunaosa and my life is yours

whenever rintarou is coming home (whether he's got a break in his training/game schedule, a long weekend, the off-season is starting, etc.) there's a palpable hum of anticipation that buzzes through your sunny osaka apartment.

osamu is whistling while he gets ready for work early in the morning, smiling into the brim of his coffee cup as he tucks yet another container of food into the fridge (one of rin's favourites) along with all the others he's been preparing the past few days. he leaves a note for you on the counter with a big lopsided heart, since he has to leave to get to the fish market long before you wake for the day, and another just next to it for rin, since he'll arrive before the restaurant closes, that says 'welcome home'—with another two lopsided hearts for good measure.

you're distracted all day at your own job, your sticky note with the lopsided love heart tucked in your pocket, chewing on the tips of your pens and tapping your foot under your desk. you keep a close eye on your phone, and grin every time suna sends you an update about where he is in his journey—if he's left yet, if he's at the station, on the train, on his way. he sends you photos throughout the day that only serve to rile you up more, to only make you more eager for his impending arrival. the clock always seems to be against you on these days—the minutes ticking by impossibly slow.

an hour before you get off work, you get another text, but your excitement is short-lived.

rin 👣 (new message): train's delayed and my phone's abt to die :(

rin 👣 (new message): think i forgot my charger too :(

'why's it delayed??' you send back, but suddenly your messages aren't being delivered. your phone clatters against your desk as you set it down and you sigh, a little frustrated but more disappointed than anything, before grabbing your notepad off your desk and heading towards the conference room where the rest of your colleagues have already started gathering for your end of day meeting.

you still haven't heard anything from rin by the time you're leaving work, and though you may be disgruntled, you figure there's no use in dwelling on it. you make your short commute home with your chin tucked into the collar of your coat—the wind outside is cool and nipping at your cheeks—and wish you'd brought a scarf with you to work that day.

you're halfway up the stairs to your apartment when you hear it:

the opening to that terrible anime that suna likes so much.

the rest of the trek up the staircase is a blur, and when you throw open the front door to your home, you're immediately met with warmth, the sound of running water, and the hum of the television—all telltale signs of life.

"rin?" you call out, your voice breathless from your run up the flight of stairs and your excitement.

the water stops and rintarou's head pops out from around the corner into the kitchen. he smiles when he sees you, and the pinch in your cheeks makes you realize that he's returning your own.

you drop your bag, and don't even spare the time to take your shoes off before you're leaping through the genkan and hurtling yourself into his arms. rintarou has to move quickly, but he doesn't falter—catching you when you hop up and wind your arms around his neck, your legs circling his waist. he lifts you easily, and when you kiss him you feel the click of teeth because neither of you have managed to subdue your smiles yet.

"welcome home," rintarou mumbles into your lips, and it makes you laugh.

you pull away to take a good look at him, brushing a bit of his hair back from his eyes.

"shouldn't i be saying that?" you ask him.

"by all means," he nods, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

you lean down to kiss him again, softer this time, and less frenetic. as your kiss deepens, you taste salt on his tongue. rintarou's hands slip down from your waist to grip the back of your skirt—that's ridden up considerably in your current position. when you pull away again neither of you are grinning anymore, but you're just as happy. "welcome home, rin."

your boyfriend carries you into the kitchen while you cling to him, laughing into his shoulder and urging him to put you down. he does, eventually, plunking you down onto the counter next to an empty takeout container—one of the ones osamu had left in the fridge for rin to eat when he came home. rintarou slips your shoes off your feet for you, and you're still giggling and trying to squirm away, and he takes them to the genkan to set them in the shoe rack for you before returning and slotting himself between your legs.

"i didn't think you'd be home," you say to him between kisses. they're just pecks, but they're insistent and unrelenting. you can barely get more than a word in before he's kissing you again. "you said the train was delayed."

rintarou's brow furrows. "only by fifteen minutes."

you swat his chest weakly, pouting a bit. "you didn't say that."

"phone died before i got the chance." rintarou ruffles his hair sheepishly, and you realize this is the first time you're seeing him in person since he got it trimmed. it's considerably shorter than the last time you saw him—a quick trip up to nagano that you made alone a few weeks prior to go to one of his home games. you reach up and trace your fingers through the dark strands idly as he speaks. "i was gonna plug it in when i got home, but i couldn't find a charger."

you took your phone charger to work with you that day, and samu must have taken his too. you accept his justification, given the circumstances. you slump forward, tucking your face into the crook of his neck.

he smells like he always does—like laundry detergent and the deodorant he's been using since high school. he's warm and sturdy, and the chill of your walk is all but forgotten as you press yourself closer and leach his body heat from him. he's familiar. he's home.

"i'm glad you're here," you murmur into his throat, twisting your fingers into the material of his t-shirt and clinging to him like your life depends on it—like holding him this tightly makes up for all the time you were apart.

suna hums against your temple, his own hands brushing up and down your back. "me too."

something changes then without warning. the affection in the air seems to grow a little heavier, more palpable. the way rintarou is pressed between your legs feels less unconscious than it did before. you feel his fingers slip up underneath the hem of the blouse you wore to work, and you can't help the way your breath hitches when you feel his fingertips against your skin.

you nuzzle into the crook of his neck to hide your burning cheeks.

"i should shower," you murmur, almost shyly—though the days of any kind of modesty between you are long gone. you feel suna's forefinger trace a shape against your spine. a heart, like the ones on the sticky notes osamu left for you both that morning. you peek up at suna through your lashes and see his cheeks have gone an infuriatingly sweet shade of pink.

he wets his lips with his tongue as he watches you closely. the food osamu left him in the fridge did nothing to sate the hunger you see behind his eyes.

"can i come too?"

you laugh, and then you nod, and then suna helps you down off the counter and lets you lead him towards your bathroom by the hand.

how could you say no, when he's asked so nicely?

besides, osamu always takes the day after rintarou comes home off work, so with the promise of a long night ahead of you, what's the harm in starting now?

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Irresistible {3} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: What was once heaven turns to hell with the unexpected arrival of a new house guest. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 4K F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four

It was late by the time Charles entered your room and slipped into the bed. You had retreated to your room after washing the dishes from dinner, silently passing each one to Charles to dry. When there was nothing left to tidy, he sighed and decided he couldn’t delay the call that was inevitable.

“Are you awake?” he asked quietly as he curled his body around yours.

“No.”

You felt his smile on your shoulder before he rolled you over to face him and brushed the hair back that fell over your face. “I think I made a mistake.”

It felt like a cruel joke but you had heard his raised voice through the walls, but the French had meant nothing to you. You were certain that after one argument he was cutting things off but you asked anyway, “Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t want to be in a relationship with her.” He pressed his forehead to yours and the breath you had been holding was released with a relieved sigh. “And she wants to come to the first races too now.”

You pulled back to see the pained look in his eyes and realised you had relaxed prematurely. “I thought you said she wouldn’t go to many.”

“She usually wouldn’t, but with the new race schedule it falls right into her school summer break.”

You huffed at the idea of having to share him and watch as she got to publicly flaunt him. Okay, maybe you were a little jealous - but it didn’t change anything because he could never be yours. “Does she suspect anything between us?”

“I am living with a beautiful woman that I am not related to, of course she is suspicious,” he stated with a nonchalant shrug. “But she won’t outright ask or she would have to give up on the idea that we are perfect for each other.”

Your fingers traced the shape of his beard that was due to be shaved again and your shoulders bounced with a quiet laugh. “Look at you, you have it all figured out.”

For a second his amusement faded away and vulnerability set in as he looked at your laced fingers resting on his chest. “You haven’t changed your mind about coming with me, have you?” His words were whispered like he was afraid of the answer.

“I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” you admitted seriously, before a teasing smirk lightened the atmosphere. “I think I would miss you too much, or a certain part of you.”

“Ah, of course,” he chuckled, grateful for the answer and a distraction, “you only want me for my dick.”

You ran your hand down his bare chest until it met the fabric of the grey sweatpants he wore and teased over his crotch. “I was thinking about your tongue but I would miss this too.”

“I feel used, really, I do,” he huffed but his cock began to stir beneath your palm despite the joking words. “I am just an object to you.”

“Yes, you are, but you are a pretty one,” you added with the sultry smile that always set his blood alight. “So are you going to let me use you?”

He grinned as he easily pulled you over his body to straddle his waist. “Always, ma biche.”

Lockdown: Week Sixteen

“Hey Daveed, sorry about the stairs,” you apologised as you ordered yet another heavy item online knowing there wasn’t an elevator in the building.

It was an odd world that you found yourself in. You knew the delivery driver by name now, but you still hadn’t seen the bottom half of his face beneath the mask.

“What have you brought now?” Charles asked from the couch as he sent a wave to Daveed.

“I’ll show you if you help me move it.”

Curious, he got up and gently moved you aside so he could pick it up himself, his biceps testing the tensile strength of his shirt sleeves. “Where am I putting it?”

You rushed around the couch and moved the coffee table that was covered with your puzzle magazines before pointing to the space made. “I’ll get the scissors.”

Charles watched his floor space change from hardwood boards to the fluffiest shag pile rug he had ever seen. Everywhere he looked there was evidence of a woman in his home and he had to admit he loved walking into each room and seeing it.

You starfished on the rug after unrolling it and sighed happily at how soft and fluffy it was beneath you. “Lay with me,” you ordered Charles when you opened your eyes to find you smiling down at you.

Dropping down beside you, he stared up at the ceiling and stretched out, sliding his arm under your head. He ran his fingers through the soft material before those same fingers ran down your sleeve and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “It’s perfect.”

The doorbell buzzed and you both looked at each other wondering who it could be. There wasn’t anything else that had been ordered and it wasn’t as if anyone could just pop around for a visit with the lockdown still under enforcement. You were still frowning at each other when the bell rang again, followed by a shrill call that made Charles stiffen.

“It’s Charlotte.”

You sat up in an instant and all but ran down the hall to your room, quickly snatching Charles’ pillow and tossing it into his room with the other random pieces of clothes that littered your floor. The security chain scraped open before the deadlock was unbolted and you scanned his room to see if there was anything of yours there but luckily most activity had been kept to your space. You hadn’t wanted to sleep in the bed he shared with her, that was about your limit in your morally grey code of ethics.

“Uh, hey, what are you doing here?” Charles asked as he opened the door, his shoulders blocking your view from the hall.

“I thought you would be happier to see me after four months,” Charlotte murmured as she walked around him and into the apartment. She was perceptive of all the changes and was obviously not impressed by them as she set her suitcase down. “My travel exemption came through today.”

Charles frowned at the large luggage bag but recovered enough to kiss her when she leant in. Your exemption had been emailed to him a few days ago so everything was set to go to Austria in two weeks time but that didn’t help him understand why his girlfriend had arrived at his place with the bag. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I figured since I was allowed to travel I would stay here, with you, until we fly out. I can finish my assignment here and we can catch up on lost time.”

Your stomach knotted at the thought but she had put Charles in a position that made an argument almost impossible.

“I would love that, but isn't it a little insensitive to Y/N? I don’t want her feeling like a third wheel in her own home.”

“This isn’t her home.” Charlotte rolled her eyes and you took a step back behind the wall as she looked around for you. “You said she’s just a guest you can’t get rid of because your mum asked nicely.”

You swallowed down the angry words that clawed at your throat and had to watch as Charles wrapped her in his arms, to comfort her.

Your silent steps retreated back to your room and you closed the door before you could hear anything more. Collapsing on your bed feeling displaced, you could smell Charles’ cologne clinging to the sheets and resorted to stripping the bedding off. Not willing to risk being caught in any small talk, you mounded the pile of sheets and duvet covers in the corner of your room and pulled a pair of noise cancelling headphones over your ears.

You drifted in and out of sleep all afternoon, waking once to decline dinner, telling Charles that you weren’t hungry through the locked door, despite the loud growls coming from your stomach. When you woke again night had set in and it was dark outside your window. The growls had turned to cramps and you couldn’t ignore the need for food any longer.

Thankfully the apartment was silent when you emerged from your room and crept down the hall. You could walk the whole house blindfolded if you needed, you knew because it had been a game you played with Charles a few times out of boredom, but you turned a small lamp on in the living room. The soft glow was enough to see in the kitchen and you found a note on the fridge door.

You smiled at the thought of Charles saving a plate for you and grabbed it from inside the fridge. It smelt delicious as you warmed it up in the microwave but one mouthful had to dumping it in the bin. Though your back was to the hall you could feel his presence like the kiss of the sun on your skin and you placed the empty plate in the sink to wash it.

“You should be asleep.”

His steps were quiet across the floor before his hands found your waist and his lips brushed over your nape before he whispered, “Can’t sleep without you.”

You turned away from the sink to face him but whatever command you were thinking of to send him back to his girlfriend was lost when he kissed you. You could taste the apology on his tongue, feel the regret in his touch as his hand slipped beneath your shirt and danced along your spine.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was going to show up here.”

His forehead rested against yours and his eyes closed when he felt your hands come to rest on his neck, your fingers feeling his pulse race beneath them. The silence was heavy as he waited for you to say something but you weren’t going to dwell on what you couldn’t change.

“You should be apologising for the pasta, I nearly broke a tooth.”

Charles stepped back with a quiet laugh and combed his fingers through his hair. “You know I am not good at cooking.”

“That wasn’t cooking, it was uncooked,” you corrected him with a smile. “Are you hungry?”

He nodded, having missed your cooking and took a seat on the bench where he could watch you quickly bring a delicious meal together. He never understood how you could do that, how you could look at what was in the fridge and the pantry and create a dish in your head. When he looked all he saw were the individual ingredients but you saw the potential each piece had, it amazed him every time.

The minutes quickly passed and it was effortless to chat with whispered voices while you worked, a complete dichotomy from how his evening with Charlotte went. Conversation with her had felt forced, like he was talking to a stranger, and he had asked how the weather was twice just to fill the awkward silence.

He barely even heard your words, recounting a humorous camping trip with your father where he forgot nearly all of the food. But you had managed to survive for three days inventing new ways to eat sausages. You paused when Charles didn’t laugh at something he should have found funny but he was staring at your lips in a daze.

“Are you okay?” you asked with a wave in front of his face.

He snapped out of whatever trance he was in and you thought maybe he had been falling asleep standing up. You nearly jumped when he suddenly pulled you into his arms and buried his face in your neck. “I love you.” You could feel his smile on your skin before he kissed the column of your neck, whispering it over and over as he made his way to your lips. “I love you.”

Your palms met his chest and gently pushed him back as you wriggled from his hold.

“What?” he asked, suddenly nervous and self conscious.

“You’re just having this revelation now? At,” you checked the time on the oven, “1:11 in the morning while your girlfriend is asleep in your bed.”

“I mean, I’ve kind of known it since the day we met…” He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged apologetically. “I think I loved you the moment you called me a bad driver.”

You balled up your fist and punched him in the shoulder. “You could have told me sooner.”

His forehead crumpled in confusion as he rubbed his arm. “What? Why?”

Stepping back into his personal space, you rose on your toes so you could kiss the corner of his downturned lips. “Because I love you too.”

His smile could have lit up the whole city and it made the unexpected arrival of Charlotte a little easier to bear. It was almost romantic eating dinner with a single candle burning on the table, if it wasn’t for the knowledge that there was an unwanted house guest in the next room. You probably should have eaten in silence to make sure it went undisturbed, there was always more you wanted to know about each other. Sixteen weeks together brought a lot of insight into the other’s psyche but there was still over 20 years of history to learn.

“Did Peter teach you to cook?”

Your laugh was a little too loud in the dead of the night and you shook your head. “He can only cook a steak, and you don’t get a say in how you want it either - it’s always extra well done.” You took a sip of the wine Charles had poured and giggled at the thought of your father teaching you to cook. “There was this old woman who did the payroll at dad’s work and after mum left Betty helped step in for all the ‘girly’ stuff. Make-up, cooking, boys.”

The corner of Charles’ lips kicked up in a smirk as he sat back in his chair and sighed happily with a full stomach and contentment he had missed all evening. “I imagine you were already a natural when it came to boys.”

You mirrored his amusement and leaned your head on his shoulder when he draped his arm over the back of your chair. “Of course, one insult and I had them wrapped around my finger,” you joked.

“Worked with me.”

“But you’re weird.”

Footsteps padded down the hall and you sat up before Charlotte arrived wearing a shirt of Charles’. She froze as she found the cosy scene and the sleepy haze lifted from her face. “What is this?”

You smiled and reached for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. “I was hungry, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Would you like to join us?”

She looked at the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost 3am. Time always seemed to slip by unnoticed when you were with Charles, he was captivating that way.

“No, thank you,” she politely declined as she held a hand out to Charles. “We are going back to bed.”

Charles let her lead him from the room but he looked over his shoulder with a pout and mouthed ‘I love you’ before saying aloud, “sweet dreams.”

You smiled as you mouthed the words back and promised, “I will.”

That was the last stolen moment alone. Charlotte seemed to sleep lighter and followed Charles everywhere he went in the apartment. He couldn’t even stream alone in his office, her ever present shadow was there in the background to gate keep him from you. At night, their arguments would keep you awake and your French understanding grew to know nearly every swear word they used. 

You could see the misery in the dark bags beneath Charles' eyes each morning at breakfast. Though he no longer sat beside you, there was one perk to facing him with the table Charlotte used as a barrier between you. Warmth ran up your leg and you fought not to react to Charles’ touch, it wasn’t much but it was his quiet reassurance that everything would be okay.

Lockdown: Week Seventeen

You woke to a screech and rolled over to bury your head under your pillow. Unfortunately you weren’t able to block out her voice as it grew louder to the point she was yelling. Tossing your blankets back, you draped a robe around your shoulders and swept out of the room with a mission to find out why your sleep had been disturbed.

“Charles, can you please remind her what an inside voice is?” you asked quietly as you took a seat with him at his piano, watching the angry young woman pace around the living room.

“You live like a pig!” Charlotte growled as she picked up his dirty plate left on the coffee table. “And how hard is it to put the toilet seat down?”

You cast a side eye at Charles to see him struggling to hold a smirk in check. He was clearly enjoying himself but you were confused since he had always put the toilet seat down before, and cleaned up after himself.

“Why are there so many cushions in this place?” Her rant continued as she picked up the floral pieces you had scattered across the couch to bring colour to the room.

“I like cushions,” you answered her rhetorical question, drawing her attention to your presence.

“I know exactly what you like,” she sneered as her eyes darted to Charles before she stormed out of the room, dropping the plate in the kitchen sink as she passed.

“Where are you going?” Charles asked as he made to follow, sending a kiss your way.

“Home!”

You dropped onto the couch, enjoying the way your body sunk into the soft cushions, and listened to the rant continue while Charlotte packed her suitcase. You had to bite one pillow when Charles made a weak attempt to change her mind but then she was wheeling her luggage out the door.

Unfortunately her departing words left you little hope as she promised, “I’ll meet you at the airport.”

The door closed behind her and Charles leaned his back against it with a sigh. You cocked a brow at him before he slid the deadbolt home and all but jumped over the back of the couch, pinning you under his body.

“Finally, I have you all to myself,” he hummed happily against your lips but you tugged his hair back so he could see the confusion on your face. “What? I missed you.”

“You planned all that?”

He shrugged and dipped his head to capture your lips that left you needing more of his kisses and less of his clothes. “I was hoping she was going to break up with me, but I’ll keep working on that. PR can’t be mad at me if it’s her choice.”

You combed your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands that were in need of a trim again. “But what happens next? They’ll just set you up with another woman that fits their image for you.”

He shook his head adamantly and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m done with that. I’ll tell them I need to focus on my career or something to get them off my back. There’s only one woman I want, Bambi.”

You tried not to let his promise affect you but the butterflies in your stomach turned to a burn across your cheeks and you buried your face in his neck. His deep laugh reverberated from his chest as he kissed your temple and started to climb off you.

“Hey, where do you think you are going?” you asked as his weight was lifted from you.

“I was going to bed,” he said with a smirk as he started to walk towards the hall. “Coming, ma biche?”

The cushions went flying as you scrambled to your feet and raced after him. It felt as if the universe had righted itself when you closed your door behind you and found Charles stretched across your bed. For a moment you just leaned back and enjoyed the view that you had missed, but only for a moment - you had better ideas on how to spend your time. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you pointed out.

“Why don’t you come and change that?” he challenged with a smirk. Making himself comfortable, he tucked his hands behind his head but the movement tugged the bottom of his shirt up to tease you with the deep V lines you wanted to run your tongue along.

“With pleasure.” You untied your robe and let the material fall to the floor before you stalked him down and reached for his sweatpants. You dragged the soft cloth down and he lifted his hips to make it easier, not that it would have stopped you.

You dipped your head down, grazing your teeth over his hip bone and goosebumps prickled across his skin. His breath caught in his chest as the tingling feeling spread over his body and he chuckled at the sight of it. It was a reaction he had never had with anyone else, there was no one else who could possibly elicit such a feeling with just one touch. 

“Fuck,” he shuddered breathlessly when you lashed your tongue along one V line. He could feel your breath warm on his cock before it cooled as you climbed higher and he groaned at the smirk on your lips. You were playing with him. 

“Be patient,” you warned as you grabbed his shirt and tugged it up his chest. 

“It’s been 9 days, Bambi,” he gasped when you nipped his nipple before easing the sharp pain with your tongue.

“Exactly.” You peeked up his body from under your lashes and enjoyed the strained look on his face, his brows pinched together and his hands in fists behind his head. He was struggling not to take control and bury himself in you. “I have to make up for lost time.”

You pushed him to his limit as you nipped and sucked your way across his body from his neck to his thighs. “Please, ma biche,” he finally whined as his hard cock pulsed with the need to feel your wet warmth. 

“Since you asked so nicely…” You sealed your lips around the swollen tip and hummed in delight at the taste of him. There wasn’t a word that could describe it but it was an aphrodisiac of the highest strength. Need grew to a throb between your legs and your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched your thighs together. 

A deep groan had your eyes opening and you found a wild look in Charles’ before he reached for your arms. You let him guide you up his body thinking he was going to spear you down on his cock but he shuffled down the bed and positioned you over his face. “My turn, mon amour.” 

Your fingers clutched at the headboard as his tongue expertly found all the spots that made you see stars. Like you, he hadn’t forgotten how to drive you wild in the long days since Charlotte’s arrival. 

“Please, Charles,” you begged as he teased around your clit, keeping you dancing on the precipice of oblivion. He teased and he teased until a growl of frustration tore from you lips and you combed your fingers into his hair so you could grind your hips over his face, taking what you needed from him. 

Satisfied and smiling, you were flipped onto your back and Charles chuckled as he kissed his way up your body. “That was rude.”

“You love it,” you fired back with an equally daring smirk that fell away when your lips parted with a soft gasp as he thrust his hips forward and buried himself inside you.

“Fuck, I do,” he agreed with a moan. His breath heated your neck as he kissed your racing pulse, caressing your skin with his lips until he reached yours. “I love you.”

Click here for the next part.

[writingsonsaturn]

Tim's fiancee gets arrested when a cop (let's say Lucy or someone) (this is after they are rookies) arrests her because she looks like a suspect they already caught, his fiancee told them she was engaged to Tim but they didn't believe her and Tim gets mad at the officer - <3

wrong place, wrong time - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: very sorry about how long its taken me to write, had a lot of stuff to do this week lol! this ones a little short <333

word count: 850

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Waking up with Tim being gone was normal, even after he had left the military his day continued to start at 6 am sharp. Although on weekends he would cut himself some slack to hold you until you were ready to get out of bed and begin with your various tasks you two needed to get done.

Today didn’t start off any different, waking up only a few hours after Tim had, at a ripe 8:30am.

Rubbing your eyes you flung your legs to your left, your warm feet chilling almost immediately at the cold wooden flooring of you and Tim’s shared bedroom. A shiver shot through your nerves and up your spine, you sighed lightly at the shift in temperature and made your departure to the bathroom.

The spring air seeped into the sunlit room, the fresh morning breeze filling your soul with flowers and bright colors. Music filled the house whilst you finished your morning routine making breakfast and feeding Kojo.

You started out your afternoon deciding to head to the local library, wanting to return a book you had borrowed before you were charged with a late fee. 

The library wasn’t full since it was the afternoon and school was still in session, “hello! i’m here to return a book” you said in a chipper but quiet tone. The librarian smiled and took the book, checking it back into the system and sending you on your way.

Your next stop was a supermarket, you had only a handful of items that were needed. Tim had run out of coffee filters this morning and you needed more shampoo, you also opted to get a new water bowl for Kojo, not that he needed one, you just thought it was cute.

As you walked out to your car you were stopped with a taser pointed directly at your torso, “get on your knees with your hands up!” a woman yelled.

Your confused manor caused your reaction to be delayed, causing the police officer to yell once again. “Get down on the ground with your hands up, now!” you immediately get down to your knees and put your shaking hands up. 

“You got the wrong person, I swear! Call Tim Bradford, he's my Fiancé!” you pleaded, the cop with the name ‘Chen’ on her shirt just scoffed and laughed you off while stuffing you in the back of her squad car.

The ride to the precinct was uncomfortable, the cuffs were digging into the skin of your wrists. “Officer please, I'm not whoever you think I am. All you have to do is call Bradford, he’ll tell you exactly what I'm telling you know” you tried to plead your case once again, but it fell on deaf ears.

“Tim doesn’t have a fiancé, he was my T.O, i think i would know a big detail like him having a girlfriend” she laughed, feeling as though it was ridiculous to even entertain your words.

As you were brought into the station to get your picture taken and be put into holding, Chen passed you onto another officer and went to tell Grey about her catch. 

To Lucy’s surprise everyone had already been packing up the evidence and started paperwork, “what’s going on?” Lucy questioned, “we caught the killer, she was at her parents place shooting up when we got there” Tim explained. Lucy was confused, “so if you caught the killer, who do i have in holding?” the question hung in the air, Tim looking at her with perplexed eyes.

Lucy walked Tim over to holding and that’s where Tim saw you, “oh thank god!” you exclaimed seeing Tim. He hurried over to you taking your cuffs off and waving off the other officers. “Chen, why is my fiancé sitting here in cuffs?” Tim sternly asks, Lucy looks down, stuttering and trying to explain herself.

“Tim it’s fine, she was just doing her job” you did your best to defend Lucy, “No y/n, this is not okay, if it had been anyone else this would be a lawsuit” he turned his body at you but his tone was directed at Lucy.

“Tim i’m sorry, I didn’t know we had already caught the suspect and she looked exactly like our suspect” Lucy tried to explain, stumbling over her words.

“You are going to go to Grey and explain everything, lucky for you, y/n isn’t going to file a report against you” Tim assigned Lucy, to which she scurried away. “Are you okay? oh christ your wrists,” his questions and concerns came at you with speed.

“Tim, baby, I'm okay,” you smiled trying to calm him down. Tim held your wrists in his hands, and kissed them. He hoped his love would be enough to soothe your angry red skin, “i’m sorry, this shouldn’t have happened” he persisted. 

You shut him up with a kiss, “drive me to go pick up my car” your smile made him relax. “Yes ma’am” he laughed, telling Grey where he was going, and walking out hand in hand with you, still profusely apologizing.

[grugruel]

Little Bit

Pairings: roommate!bucky x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: Moving in with your bestfriend always seems like a great idea, until something inevitably breaks you apart. . .

He grabs my jaw, 'I fucking hate you.' He breathes, and I smile against his lips.

'No you don't.' I whisper, 'You love me.'

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: friends to enemies to lovers, forced proximity, angsty rom-com vibes, praise (reader calls bucky good boy once), I love you's, choking, creampie, rough sex, pinv sex, semi-public masturbation, swearing.

A soft blue light shone through the windows, the neon sign across from us coloring every reachable piece of the flat a hue of blue.

Sitting on our shared couch, moved in just a week ago. I lay my head in my hands, I too was colored blue.

'How do we fix this?' He asks, sitting in the armchair across from me.

'Us?' I move my hands from my face to look at him with a faint smile, that doesnt quite reach my eyes. The light hitting him somehow fusing into purple, I turned my attention outside, searching for any type of red light.

'How, do we get rid of the flat. . .' He corrects me, forcefully shoving his finger into the coffee table, punctuating the words.

A tinge of sadness sinks it's teeth in me, moving to gnaw on the edges of my mind. Just a few hours ago, he'd still been my best friend. Since childhood, in fact. And now?

'We can't, you know that. We already signed the contract.' I sigh, 'Besides, neither of us have anywhere else to go. Or do I have to remind you?' Crossing my legs, I lean against the back of the couch, Meticulously searching for that red. Perhaps it was just the anger swelling inside him, pushing outward, seeping into his skin and tinting it red. Mixing with the cool of the blue, however, unsuccesfull in calming him.

He clenches his jaw, 'You, don't have anywhere to go.' He points an accusing finger at me, 'I- On the other hand–'

'–Have nowhere to go.' I finish his sentence for him, exhaling it in a whisper, 'We only have eachother now, ironically enough.' I flash my eyebrows upward, the words tasting bittersweet on my tongue.

Reality seems to set in as he too, leans backward and looks out through the window. Now seeming more lost than angry. Nonetheless, he blames me, for. . . what happened. I reach out for him, gracing his knee with the tips of my fingers–

But he pulls back, yanking his knee out of reach for my touch and faces away from me completley. Turning his head over his shoulder, I feel him retracting within himself, tugging all previous feelings and memories with him. He closes his eyes and exhales a shaky breath, 'Dont, I don't know you.' His voice was cold, 'You're nothing more than a roommate, a stranger im forced to share a home with.' Completley devoid of emotion.

My eyes stung with tears, and I hurry past him. Rushing upstairs to the loft, shutting myself in my bedroom.

That was a few weeks ago, the anger and sadness had settled. But in its wake, annoyance and spite had developed.

It felt very much like living with a sibling you hated dearly, a nemesis, your rival. Yet still loved, because of your ties.

'Just get out already!' I groan, stomping my foot into the floor from pure frustration. I felt like a child throwing a tantrum, but he just brought it out of me.

'I'm. Using. It.' He shouted, voice slightly muffled.

'For fu-' I stopped myself, but closed my eyes instead. Reminding myself to be the better person, 'I. Need. It.' I threw his punctuation back at him, 'I have to shower, youre making me late!' I shouted back through the door.

We both had a date, at the same time. Bucky was occupying the shower, it felt like he delayed just to make me late.

Eventually, the door opened and steam poured out of the opening. A cloud of buckys scents wafted in her face, and from it he emerged, with only a towel around his hips. With his bare upperbody on full display.

It's not like I hadn't seen him without a shirt before, but that had been as friends. Buy now that we weren't friends anymore. . . Well, I couldn't help but feel a little something.

He smiled smugly, 'Your turn.'

Oh how I wanted to scream at him, how could someone be so self-satisfied? I frantically gesture with my hands for him to move past me, and the second he did, I threw myself inside.

Finally, the water flooded down my body, every drop doing its duty in soothing an unwelcome ache. Stress and worry washing off of me, sliding into the drain, everything was perfect in this short, shielded time.

It would be over in a moment, when I rejoined the chaos that was my life.

But for now, my hand slipped downward. Quickly finding the source of my ache, and releaved it, rubbing it away in massaging circles. Doing my best to stifle my moans– When involuntarily, an image of Bucky popped up in my mind.

His towel around his hips, the low "V" on full display, his muscles rippling, torso stretching, showcasing his body and toned abs in all their glory. But what if those big hands had grabbed my waist, and pulled me close. What if he sank inside me, how heavenly it must feel. I bit my lip, my fingers moving faster. Realising too late that I was only spurring myself on, I came quickly, doing my best to stifle my moans. Toppling over, I leaned against the shower wall as I caught my breath. Praying I had been quiet enough.

When done, I hurried and dried myself off, then stepped out the shower a wrapped a towel around my torso. I took a quick look in the mirror, making sure that my actions were in no way visible on my face, then opened the door and re-entered the apartment.

The sun was just beginning to set, it was late in the day and the neon light had yet to come on. Golden light filled the apartment as–

Bucky fell onto the couch. . .

Almost looking like he'd jumped over the back of it.

I looked at him strangely, myself acting like I hadn't just touched myself to thoughts of him. 'You ok?' I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

He nodded, and grabbed a pillow, pressing it against his abdomen with an unreadable expression on his face, 'Mhm.' He hummed, 'Just fine, why would't I be?'

A violent urge to strangle him grabbed ahold of me, anger nipping at my skin, I was starting to tire of his passive-agressiveness. I inhaled through my nose, and exhaled through my mouth. Calming myself before I answered, 'You're right, how silly of me to ask. I don't even care.' and headed to my room.

What I did not see, was his eyes following me, lingering on my rosy cheeks and wet hair. Roaming over the bare parts of my skin, noting the way it was riddled with glistening water droplets. Nir had I seen, how he'd walked past the bathroom door earlier and somehow heard my moaning, or that he'd stayed and listened, intently. Sowly becoming more and more aroused. I did however, see a glimpse of him "smoothly" covering his tracks when I opened the door, the old run and jump maneuver. By some miracle, I didn't put the pieces together. Because I had not seen his erection either.

I put on my long, sleek, red satin dress.

It fell perfectly over my body, clinging to every curve. Paired with a pair of nude heels, my legs looked magnificent thorugh the slit too. I walked downstairs, expecting Bucky to make some snide remark, but he was nowhere to be found.

I figured I'd at least let him know im leaving. Presuming he was in his room, I approached it, and could indeed hear him inside.

But I wasnt to sure what to make of the sounds. My subconscious instics must've kicked in, because I reflexively took my heels off and snuck closer. Muffled grunts and slapping came from the other side of the door, they were, lewd almost, kind of like–

My jaw dropped. My name, I heard- I heard my name. He just moaned my name. Surely, this wasnt real, I scoffed internally. He was pranking me, right? Maybe it was an actress, or crush who shared my name? He was gonna open that door any second, jump out and tell me how stupid I was to think such a thing. Yet, something tightened inside me, a dull pulse flaring up.

There was a final groan, then the sound of a zipper. I blinked, frozen. Until I heard footsteps, and forced myself to snap out of it.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit! I quickly tiptoed over to the window, pretending to look outside. Realising I still had my heels in my hand, I had to alternate between putting them on and acting nonchalant.

The creaking sound of his door opening rang out behind me, and I yelped, my head whipping over my shoulder to look at him, taken completely off guard.

His eyes went wide as he met mine. His expression made it very clear that he'd expected me to be gone by now. 'Oh–' he clenched his jaw to keep it from falling. Rubbing the nape of his neck, he looked around nervously, 'Thought you'd gone.' He said, irritation lacing his tone, 'Since you were so stressed about being late and all.' He remarked, narrowing his eyes.

God, the gall on this man.

I put my other heel on, and turn around completley, 'Stress that you caused, you mean?' I pointed out, the final rays of sun warming my back as I looked at him, 'Dont worry, I'll leave you to it.' A giggle bubbled up in my throat. I had to suck on my bottom lip to stiffle it and hide my smile.

I turned on my heel and fled, not sticking around to see his reaction.

I couldn't keep him off my mind, surely it was not me he meant, I heard wrong. He hates me, for gods sake!

At that thought, my date picked me up, and the night was pretty uneventful from there. We had dinner and drinks, but something else was occupying my mind. I was just replaying the way my name sounded falling from Buckys lips, the way he breathed it, moaned it. My core ached at the memory.

My date no doubt thought me distant, but it couldnt be helped. I was desperate for the feeling of a man inside me, for bucky more specifically. So I laid my hand on top of my date's, 'How about we take this to my place?' I asked, smiling seductively.

Eagerly, he agrees.

Arriving back, we stumbled into the apartment. Kissing enthusiastically, as the colorful light had returned. Bathing us in a dark red light. Faintly, it illuminated our path upstairs as I grabbed his hand and pulled him to my room. We'd been too busy to notice Bucky, already standing in the kitchen.

Who hadn't had a very succesful date either, the only difference being that he did not bring her back to their place. He respected their home, but apparently she did not. A feeling of anger bubbled up inside him, but it felt different. Not like it had that first night of their fight, now, he almost felt threatened. He scoffed, surely not, noo–

The red switched to green, and his brain thought it before he himself came to the conclusion, was it. . . Jealousy? He furrowed his brows, disputing with his his mind. Never, he hates her gut. Hes been teasing and annoying her, because he hates her. Simple as that. Earlier, today was just a moment of weakness, a man doing his manly obligations. That was all, he told himself and looked outside, the green light poking fun at him. Calling him out in ways he did not appreciate, it was nauseating.

He had to talk to her, go up there and put a stop to it. This was his apartment too, he had a veto.

He marched firmly up the stairs, the green contrasting the red hot anger on his face as the sounds of laughing grew stronger. He reached for the door handle, when he heard their moaning.

Her moaning more specifially, the sound of skin against skin, of a creaking bed and the way it thumped against the wall. His mind blurred the sounds of the other guy, and instead focused on the sound of her, her labored breathing, her whimpering and mewling. Wishing he was that guy right now. He could've listened all day, but snapped out of it. Shaking his head as he realised the immorality of it. He couldnt just barge in on them, he'd tell the guy to fuck off the second they were done. He nodded, yeah. . . His hand fell to his side as he took a step back–

She moaned, so beautiful. Humming, 'Ooh, fuck, thats good bucky.' The words slipped from her lips befor she could stop them.

Buck froze, they all froze. Blinking, he did a dubbel take. Huh?. . . Huuuh?

'I'm, uhm–' She tried.

'What did you just call me?' The guy questioned, 'Is- is that your roommates name?' Dumnfounded, he pulled himself off of her.

Bucky couldnt believe what he was hearing, he snickered 'Holy f— shit.' Unable to controll himself, he burst into pure laughter as he ran down the stairs. Covering his mouth in the motion, spite pouring out of his ears. 'What a marvelous, marvelous day.' He declared openly, throwing himself on the couch, arms splayed over the back. Waiting for the next scene to unfold.

The man, clothes in hand came rushing down the stairs, and noticed Bucky watching him, 'You him?' He asked.

Nodding, 'Uh, huh.' Bucky hummed, confirming the mans suspicious as a cocky smile spread across his face.

'Fantastic.' The stranger hissed, and muttered under his breath. '. . .Some competition. . .' Then fled the apartment, throwing his clothes on in a hurry.

Bucky laughed, 'So good,' and sighed with content, shaking his head in disbelief.

A second later, I came bounding down the stairs, a sheet pulled around my body. 'Did he leave already?' I asked, sprinting to the door.

Grinning, he answered, 'That he did.' Slanting his head in observation as he took her disheveled appearance in.

I run my hands through my hair in frustration, 'Shit!' My head then snapping to Bucky as he's just sitting there, snickering and looking at me smugly. 'What?' I ask, but he only shrugs, smiling stupidly. 'Wipe that smile of your face, you big idiot.' I shout, 'Where's your date, huh?'

Flinching, hes taken aback 'I didn't bring her home! Its called common curtesy!' He shouts back. Both incredibly sucessfull in riling the other up, immediately getting kn eachothers nerves.

'You jealous or something?' I throw my hands in the air, laughing incredulously.

'I don't need to be, I heard you, you know.' He smirked, 'Up there.' Nodding to my bedroom. And my blood runs cold, embarrassment prickling my face. But I clear my throat, trying to control my emotions, 'You were listening?' I quirk an eyebrow, the corner of my lip tugging.

'Wha– of course not! He protests.

'No? Well, I did.' And now it's my turn to grin, 'I heard you, too. Earlier today.'

His veins freeze, 'I don't know, what you mean. . .' Bucky begins–

'Yes you do.' I saunter toward him, getting right in his face. 'Just admit it.' I hiss, humouring myself.

Grabbing my jaw, he breathes 'I fucking hate you.' But I smile against his lips. The neon sign turning pink, painting us both in its lovely rose colour.

'No, you don't.' I whisper, 'You love me.' And drop my sheet, stark naked underneath.

In a hurry, he crawls back on top of me, lining himself up with my core. Teasing, he slides his member up and down my folds, 'Fuck' I moan, and he slides in. Immidietly setting a gruesome pace, hitting my cervix with every thrust.

He looks at me with awe in his eyes, eyebrows furrowing. He lools teribbly pained, 'I do, I do love you.' He whimpers, as if the sight of me and the the truth he'd refused to accept hurt him.

In a clash, his lips met mine. Feverishly our mouths clash together, tongues waisting no time in tasting the other. His hands glide down my sides, until they grab my ass and he lifts me into his arms. I gasp and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling on his hair, making him grunt. He walks us into his bedroom, and throws me onto the bed with a yelp, then crawls on top of me. Kissing his way up my body until our mouths found their way back to eachother. I unbutton his shirt and unbuckle his belt, hastily pulling them both off of him. He sits back, and zips down his pants, kicking them off. His size was more than enough.

He groans in my ear, snaking his hand up to my throat and as he leans on the other. Nuzzling my face softly, his hand toghtens around my throat, lightly choking me as his hips slam into mine hard into mine.

My hands roam his back, sinking my nails into his skin whenever a particularly rough thrust sends a spirit breaking ache through my body. His lips trace their way down my jaw, specking it with kisses, whispering 'I love you.' In muffled moans against my skin.

I grin, and run my hands through his hair 'Good boy.' I whisper–

He whimpers, 'Fuck.'

The snap of his hips falter as the both of us are reaching our orgasm. He kisses his way down my throat, meanwhile adjusting his hold around it. 'I love you.' He mutters between every kiss, when he finally falls over the edge. His seed spilling inside of me as he does his best to keep thrusting, helping me to reach my own climax. With the chole of his hand, member inside me and his muffled I love you's. The knot tightens in my stumache, and I topple over too. How could I not?

'I love you too.' I whisper, and I feel him smile against my throat as he squeezes it one last time. 'Good, it was too hard to stay mad at you.'

[mostlymihawk]

Intimidation

Mihawk, Shanks, and Koby x GN reader

Prompt: How they react when they find out you're being threatened/held hostage.

CW: Threats, blood, abuse mentions

Mihawk:

You try to hide it from him at first.

Someone had come into Mihawk's castle, slit your throat, and told you to pass on the message that "my next cut won't be so shallow" if Mihawk didn't stop hunting him.

You're determined not to be Mihawk's weakness, so you force yourself to get it together.

You pull yourself off the floor, change the bloody carpet, stop the bleeding, and tell Mihawk you've suddenly developed a fascination with scarves.

It works for about an hour, if that.

Maybe it was your fidgeting, the way you jumped at shadows, your darting eyes, shaking hands...you had so many tells.

Finally he takes you by the hand, leads you to bedroom, sits you on the bed...and pins you down with his eyes as he gently tugs the scarf away and reveals the wound.

You break down immediately and tell him everything, including why you wanted to hide it.

He is utterly silent as the words flow out of you like a burst dam, until you have nothing left and you're sobbing brokenly in his arms from the pain.

Mihawk needs a minute to digest everything you've told him.

"...You are not my weakness, you are my greatest strength. You are the lifeblood that pulses in my veins, the fabric of my very soul, the deity before whose altar I kneel in reverence every hour of every day."

Being a warlord of the sea, he is often seen as a dog at the marines' beck and call, but the reverse is also true.

His delicate fingers bandage your would with near-surgical precision, and then Mihawk calls in a favour.

A few scant days later, the freshly-replaced carpet is bloodied anew with the blood of the correct victim.

Mihawk loathes blood on the carpets, but it does make a nice tapestry to serve as a warning to any others fool enough to attempt to harm his betrothed.

Shanks:

Mid-brawl, you're grabbed by the opposing captain.

It's all very cliché, but he won't let you go no matter how hard you struggle.

"Alright, stop. I surrender. My life for theirs."

The enemy captain is grinning ear to ear as you're roughly shoved aside and caught by Shanks' first mate, Benn Beckmann.

He shushes you and hides your face in his chest to muffle your pleas as Shanks steps right up to the barrel of the gun that had just been levelled at your temple.

The captain asks if Shanks has any final words.

"...I lied."

The half second's delay as they struggle for control of the gun is enough for Yasopp to end it.

You're inconsolable for the rest of the day, but Shanks is too glad you're alive to be terribly upset about the insults hurled his way or the bruises he'll have on his chest later.

Koby

He knows something is wrong right away.

He's the nervous wreck in this relationship, so when you've lost all your spark he asks what's wrong, and gets suspicious when you're scared to tell him.

Drags you straight to Garp's desk, no matter how much you beg him not to or how much you insist they'd kill him if you got the marines involved.

"Listen...I've been where you are. For two years I was held hostage on a pirate ship. If you let yourself be scared into silence...it'll never get better. We have to fight this, it's the only way."

That said, he has absolutely no idea how to fight an entire pirate crew.

Thus, Garp.

Garp reminds you both that, as Koby's significant other, a threat against you a threat against the marines, the world government, and, by extension, a threat against humanity.

The pirates extorting you are all swiftly captured, imprisoned, or brought to justice.

What did they really expect to do against the might of the marines, after all?

"You see? They wanted you not to get the marines involved because they knew they'd never stand a chance if you did."

[jelliedink]

Making love with your DILF!Boss

Warnings: huge age gap, manipulative behaviour, slut shaming, sex.

Author's note: I brought him back, loves. This was originally part of the first headcanon post, but I decided to divide it because it was getting way too big. Please, get yourself comfortable and feast on the depraved fantasies my brain creates about this fictional toxic man.

Divider by @cafekitsune

First let me say that: this devil of a man is patient and he'll wait until you're crawling up the walls from desperation and desire. And then he'll wait a bit more.

DILF!Boss also considers himself an old-school man. He's not entirely opposed to fucking like a dog in heat but, in his head, this treatment is for other people. You are not a "cheap whore" or a random one night stand. He's preparing you to be his pretty perfect wife and new mommy of his children. You deserved to be treated with respect.

And he would tell you exactly so if you asked him to fuck your brains out. He would feel disgusted just by thinking about what kind humiliating of things your previous partners asked from you, his precious doll. But now you were with a man that knew how to treat you. A man that knew how to make you things you couldn't even imagine. A man that's been doing it since before you were born. A real man.

During sex, your DILF!Boss took care of you the whole time. He would take how long it needed to get you soaked and ready for him. Even then, lube was always easily accessible, just to be sure. He checked in with you in every step of the way and in between, making sure he was touching his precious little doll in all the right ways.

"Let me prepare you just a little more." "Do you like when I touch you like this?"

The nickname he used the most in those moments was "my little angel" because you did indeed feel heavenly. Your skin was so warm and soft, your moans, whispers and pleas so beautiful. And you have no idea how big his ego got when seeing you melt under his touch so easily.

Your DILF!Boss held you so close that at moments it felt like you were drowning in him. No matter the position, he'd always find a way to cage you in his arms, his body touching yours in all the places it could. You both were so entangled you could feel the movement of his lungs filling with air, his throat vibrating when he groaned or whispered sweet nothings in your ears, making you tickle. His scent was all you could feel, your sweat and his were the same, your bodies moving in such synchrony that you were not sure where you ended and he began anymore.

His thrusts were slow and deep, most of the times not pulling even half of his cock out before getting it all in and reaching places you didn't think was possible again. The way he rocked his hips into yours made it almost unbearable to keep your eyes open, and he had to ask you many times not to hide your face. He needed to see and praise you when he saw you loosing focus and part your lips to let out another delicious moan.

"Just like that, my buttercup, just let everything go while I take care of you."

Your DILF!Boss's thrusts were agonisingly slow. You felt the pleasure building and, the closer you got to your orgasm, more desperate you got to increase the speed and reach your peak. But he wouldn't let you: he locked your hips in place and kept his rhythm, the delay of your pleasure so overwhelming that it was almost painful. It made you want to sink your nails into his skin. You begged him until your voice was nothing but a whine, but to no avail, and often mixed tears from frustration and pleasure rolled down your cheeks.

All this time he would have one hand at the back of your head, his finger running through your hair in an effort to comfort you, his words gentle despite his laboured breath. "I know, my precious, I know. It will get better soon." "Calm down, my little minx, we've just started." "Breathe, my dear. In through your nose, out through your mouth. See how you can feel every inch of me in you when we go like this?"

It wasn't often that you came multiple times in one night: the first orgasm was so strong for being build for so long that it got you completely fucked up and you just wanted him to hold you in his arms and kiss you better after this pleasurable torture session.

He would often take longer, though. Your pleasure always came first, and after you calmed down a little he would ask if you could take just a little bit more of him. You almost always said yes. It didn't take him very long to finish seeing you so spent from his blissful touch, and he praised you the whole time for being so good to him.

After you're both done, your DILF!Boss would cup your face and kiss all of it, saying how much he loved you, how you were the best thing that happened to him, how he couldn't believe he was gifted with such a perfect angel like you. Then he would carry you to the bathroom; if not for taking a bath, at least to make sure you peed while he threw out the condom and got both of you water.

He couldn't hide his smile while watching how you curled up in his chest when you got back to bed, so tired you could hardly maintain a conversation. He'd still always try to ask how you were feeling, if he had hurt you or done anything that didn't feel good, although most of the time you passed out before he got the chance to finish this questionnaire. It didn't take him long to sleep after that. Feeling your now slow breath in his skin, he drifted off thinking how lucky he was that such a pretty little thing fell so deep into his trap.

[fluffypotatey]

okay so:

the year is 2021. the month is june. the new season of hermitcraft, season 8, has just started, and everything is great! the hermits are all messing around, having fun, building insane things within the first week of the server being active, and generally having a good time. everyone's collected themselves into little factions, pranking each other, and it's all the fun, lighthearted, mostly-vanilla content hermitcraft is known for.

and then the split between minecraft versions 1.18 and 1.19 is announced. the delay of new terrain, and especially of new mobs like the warden, considerably disrupt several of the hermits' plans. but it's fine, they'll figure something out, they're professionals, and it mostly goes unnoticed.

about two weeks later, on november 9th, grian turns to mumbo jumbo in one of his episodes, and asks the famous question that would seal hermitcraft season 8's fate:

"mumbo, is the moon... big?"

suddenly, the fans panic. they search back through videos and streams, and realize that the moon had been abnormally large and stuck in a full-moon phase since october 30th. the Moon Big event has begun.

this is where the roleplay really starts. once the moon's size has been brought up, the hermits start a weird combination of scrambling to figure out why the moon's growing, and how to stop it- but also of ignoring it, hoping it won't be a problem, hoping someone else will deal with it. the moon keeps getting bigger, more hermits start realizing it's going on, and a creeping sense of dread starts to grow. but it's fine. it's fine, right? they do little plotlines like this all the time. they'll figure something out, the moon will go back to normal, and we'll laugh about it when this is all over. it's fine.

and then, blocks start flying away. just floating up out of the ground, and falling right back down! like for a moment, a square meter chunk of dirt has decided it's a ballerina and leaped out of the ground! but it's fine, right? the blocks are coming back. no lasting harm is done. they're going to fix it all... right?

the moon gets bigger. it's growing every day- local hermit weirdguy joe hills measures it every stream. the blocks start flying higher. gravity starts getting... weird, with players getting the slow falling effect at random, and being lifted off of the earth themselves. the players form cults and rituals and whatnot to try and appease the moon, convince it to leave them alone, making plans to escape. nothing works. things keep getting worse, and the moon keeps getting bigger. but it'll be fine. these storylines never leave lasting harm, or at least they never have before. they'll be fine.

and then the blocks stop coming back, just floating into the sky forever. the players have the slow falling effect more than they don't now. the moon is now so big it's visible even during the day, and fills the entire sky at night. they start planning their escapes in earnest, and say their goodbyes. some hermits jump into a void hole in the overworld (it was the centerpiece of their village). some flee to the End, some to the nether, some just fly with elytras and hope they can get far enough away in time. one brave hermit, tango, flies himself to the moon in a futile attempt to blow the whole thing up before it can crash.

but in the end, the moon crashes into the server, and everything they'd built was destroyed. and the whole time, there'd been nothing any of them could've done. season eight was over, a full six months before anyone had expected it to end, and season nine wouldn't start until about three months later. and im still not okay about it.

(here's a cool animatic of the moon's crash! honestly i dont think you need too much hermitcraft knowledge to get the gist)

(also the moon crash happened on the day before my birthday lmao.)

….

holy shit

[withwritersblock]

Little Freak

~Little Freak by Harry Styles~

Author's Note: requested! I looked up interpertations of the meaning behind the song and picked my favorite :) Summary: Luke recalls his favorite situationship from college Warnings: mentions of sex ig? Word Count: 2,282 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

The season was starting to get harder and harder. The media was dragging him through the dirt because he wasn’t perfect. He made mistakes and he wasn’t allowed to do that. Even though he was a rookie. It was April, the Devils season coming to an end without a playoff appearance, all Luke wanted was to go home. Yet they had three games left. 

It was well past midnight and his mind was wandering. His hotel bed was uncomfortable, despite being one of the nicer ones in Toronto. He kept tossing and turning.

Shutting his eyes, Y/N popped into his mind. 

He agreed to the costume before he remembered how hot the fraternity parties got. How crowded and instantly sweaty he got. The Scooby-Doo costume was slowly started to be zipped lower and lower on his frame as more alcohol entered his body. He mostly stuck to his friends, the other boys in Scooby-Doo costumes. Many have already resorted to letting it hang off of their waist.

Luke was avoiding being shirtless at the party as long as he could.  He kept his beer can in his hand longer than he should’ve this late into the night. It was becoming warm and nearly undrinkable. He still kept it in his hand as he leaned against the wall ignoring something Dylan was shouting towards the rest of the group. 

He lifted his gaze to see a group of girls entering the party, all of them were wearing short dresses with white boots. He couldn’t tell what they were exactly until they spun around to see tiny wings on their back. Their costume came into his mind but it quickly drifted away as the girl in the green dress struck out. She was dead center of the group, quickly left alone as each girl ran towards another person they recognized.

She stood still scanning the crowded party before she started walking deeper into the crowd. Luke lost sight of her, he clenched his jaw as he slowly dropped his gaze towards his beer in his hand. 

“LUKEY BOY!” Ethan shouted as he slammed his and onto Luke’s shoulder. Luke lifted his head, a little delayed in the action. “DID YOU JUST FALL IN LOVE!?” he shouted again teasingly. Luke smirked as he rolled his eyes. He brought the beer towards his mouth, sipping barely any of the liquid. 

“Shut up, man,” he let out while shaking his head. “I need a new beer!” he shouted towards Ethan, implying he should come with. He nodded as the pair, shoved through the crowd towards the less full kitchen. 

The girl in the green dress stood beside one of the girls she came into the party with. Ethan smiled towards Luke as they both reached into the cooler beside the girls. 

“Lemme guess!” Ethan shouted excitedly towards the girls. They stopped their conversation, looking towards Ethan expectantly, “Tinkerbell and Silvermist!” he said pointing towards each of the girls. They smirked as they nodded. 

“How’d you know that, Scooby?” the girl in the light blue dress asked. Ethan nodded confidently as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

Luke tuned out the conversation as he tossed his old beer towards the nearly overflowing trash can in the corner of the kitchen. He quickly opened the tab to his beer in his hand and the liquid sprayed out for a second. It completely hit the girl in the light blue dress. 

His eyes widened as his mouth fell open. She gasped dramatically, turning to Luke and giving him a glare. “I’m so sorry about him, let’s get you cleaned up!” Ethan said as he delicately took a hold of her arm. The girl huffed as she allowed Ethan to guide her away. Luke pressed his lips together trying not to laugh.

The girl in the green dress looked towards Luke and let out a sudden laugh. Luke started laughing as he took the spot of the girl in the light blue dress. 

He leaned towards her, talking close to her ear, “I promise that wasn’t planned to talk to you guys.” He pulled away, a soft smirk on his lips. 

“I didn’t think it was but now I’m starting to think it might’ve been,” she teased. He chuckled as he brought the beer towards his lips. He took a sip, unzipping more of the costume as he fanned himself with his other hand for a moment. “I’m sorry about Zoey! She’s a bit dramatic,” she offered.

“I mean I did get some beer on her,” Luke shrugged.

“Yeah, but it barely touched her skin,” she said laughing. “This whole fairy costume stuff was her idea, so I’m sure she’s so crushed a little bit of beer got on her,” she said sarcastically.

“Says the girl who’s dressed as the main character,” 

“I’m only Tinkerbell because I look good in green,” she offered as she looked into his eyes. He slowly scanned her frame, admiring the color against her skin. His cheeks slowly pinked up.

“Yeah, you do,” he mumbled. She smirked as she delicately rested her hand onto his arm.

“It was nice meeting you-” she trailed off.

“Luke,” he answered for her, suddenly feeling shy. 

“It was nice meeting you, Luke. I’m gonna go find my friends,” she uttered as she turned away from him. 

“Wait-!” he called after her and she spun around and faced him again. “What’s your name?” he asked. She smiled towards him as she tilted her head to the side.

“Y/N!” she told him before she slowly started walking away from him. She spotted a few of her friends huddled in the corner and she approached them. They smiled wide as she approached.

“Where’s Zoey?” her friend, Brit, asked. Y/N smirked.

“Some guy spilled beer on her and then the other guy offered to get her cleaned up,” she explained. The girls all started laughing.

“So she’s probably-”

“Yup,” Y/N offered as she glanced towards the kitchen once more. She wasn’t sure if she was searching for Luke but if she was, she didn’t find him.

It was another hour into the party and it was only getting more and more crowded. Her friends were drunk and busy dancing but she was burnt out. She wandered towards the kitchen, the only space where she could get some air. Her face scrunched together as she shoved passed a couple grinding against each other. She let out a huff of air as she stepped into the free space.

Her eyes landed on Luke who was also leaning against a countertop, drinking a water bottle. He smirked as he met her gaze. “You alright?” he asked as he took a long sip from his bottle. She nodded as she took a deep breath.

“I just need a break from all of that,” she expressed.

He nodded. “Me too,” he muttered. He tilted his head back against the cabinet, meeting her gaze through his eyelashes. He pressed his lips together as he scanned her frame. “Do you wanna escape to my room?” he asked.

She hesitated for only a second before she nodded. He held out his free hand towards her and she gladly took it. She followed after him towards the room that had a lock on the handle from the outside. Luke quickly took the lock off before he shvoed the door open.

The room was surprisingly more clean than she expected. The rest of the house was disgusting, so she was shocked to see it look the way it did. He delicately guided her inside, locking the door behind them. He let go off her hand as he awkwardly held his hands out as if to show her the room. 

“We can just chill and watch a movie or something-you know wait for the crowd to die down,” he offered as he pointed to the bed beside him.  She nodded as she watched him hop onto the bed at the same time he turned on his TV. A soft giggle fell from her lips as she slowly laid beside him. 

Luke opened his eyes, trying to send the memory far away. He hasn’t thought about her in months. He’s been in situations similar with girls but Y/N suddenly was on his mind. He reached for his phone and turned it on. He pulled up his Snapchat memories and began scrolling. 

He kept scrolling until he reached the months that he was with Y/N. He kept glancing at the photos and videos, hoping to see some evidence of their time together. Perhaps to refresh his memory. His eyes land on the photo of him and Y/N laying in his bed together a few months after they met. He smiled to himself as he admired the way she looked in the photo.

She looked tired but happy.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she shoved his arms away with his phone held up. He chuckled as he dropped his phone down to the side. He crossed his arms over his chest. She brushed her fingers through her hair as she stared down towards Luke laying beside him. 

“Just remembering this,” he muttered as he scanned her features. She rolled her eyes as she leaned towards him. Delicately pressing her lips against his. He raised his hands up and delicately ran his hands along her back slowly and cautiously.

She pulled away as she looked into his eyes for a moment before she laid beside him instead. “Am I sneaking out, or did you tell your roommates?” she asked as she stared towards her hands. He pressed his lips together as he took a deep breath. “Sneaking out, got it,” she muttered. 

“Y/N,” he let out.

“No it’s okay,” she mumbled as she slowly stood up from the bed, she crossed her arms over her chest. She wandered around the bed towards the black hoodie she wore. 

“I just don’t know what to tell them,” Luke said. She clenched her jaw as she covered her frame. She nodded as she slipped on her shoes as well. “Y/N,” he mumbled.

“I’ll see you next party, I guess,” she mumbled as she snuck out of his room, glancing down the hall. Luke tilted his head back against the pillow as he shut his eyes harshly.

“Stupid,” he muttered as he ran his hand across his eyes.

Luke frowned to himself as he continued to look for memories with her. He saw a few more photos of her in a similar light several weeks later. It was the last one between the pair. 

His memory quickly returned, he rolled his eyes as he recalled how he ruined it.

He was on top of her, her thigh in his hand as he kissed her urgently. Her fingertips ran through his curls. He pulled away admiring her features as he began to trail his lips from her jaw down to her neck. She hummed as she began to breath heavier. He pulled away, leaning back as he pulled his shirt from his frame. She smiled as he leaned down towards her again, kissing her urgently.

“Luke,” she mumbled against his lips, he hummed as he kissed her urgently. His hands began to roam her frame and she pulled away, “Luke,” she let out again. He stopped and stared into her eyes.

“You alright?” he asked as he scanned her features. She took a shaky breath as she ran her fingers through his hair for a quiet moment. 

“What are we doing?” she asked quietly. His gaze lowered towards her lips. 

“Having fun,” he let out casually. She rolled her eyes. She slowly slipped her hands from his hair, down his chest towards her own body. 

“Yeah? That’s it? All we’re doing?” she let out frustratingly. He furrowed his eyebrows as he rolled away from her. He sat up at the same time she did. 

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked shyly. She rolled her eyes, a laugh leaving her lips as she stood up from the bed. “Where are you going?” he continued. 

“I’m tired of this, Luke, I’m gonna go. Find another girl to have fun with because I’m tired of sneaking around. I want a relationship but I don’t want it with someone who has to hide the fact that we have sex from his friends,” she let out as she put on her outfit she had on prior. 

Without giving him a second to think about what she said she opens the bedroom door and reenters the party. Luke let out a long drawn out breath as he collapsed onto his back. 

He found himself pulling up her contact. He hasn’t tried to reach her since that night well over a year ago. He never saw her as a girl he wanted a relationship with, but he hates that he hurt her. 

He pulled the phone towards his ear, hearing it ring. A sigh of relief fell from his lips hearing that she didn’t block him. 

After a few seconds the ringing stops but it wasn’t sent to voicemail. She answered. “Uh-hello?” she let out awkwardly. 

“H-hey, I was just thinking about you and I guess I called you,” he let out shyly. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, it was so fast. He truly doesn’t remember hitting the call button.

“Oh-okay, you doing alright, Luke?” she offered. He didn’t know how to answer.

“Ye-yeah, sure. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called,”

“You shouldn’t have,” she mumbled while giggling, “But you did, what’s going on?” she asked again.

“I guess I just miss being a dumbass college kid,”

[no-144444]

dangerous media- o.piastri

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pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Skyf1interviewer! reader

summary: things go downhill fast as you fall, and he has to catch you. what makes it worse is what he says after…

part one | part two | part three | part four

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You sat in the media pen, an exhausted look on your face. It had been an awful 36 hour day, you were tired, sick, and you just wanted to crash in your hotel room. But, you couldn’t do that, because you still had interviews left.

Jenson stood beside you, already practically asleep. You’d had 4 flights cancel, and then the next flight got delayed, and so on and so forth. You two were not in the mood for a self-deprecating Lando Norris, nor an arrogant Lance Stroll, or god forbid, an angry Kevin Magnussen.

“Can I take Oscar?” you asked, just wanting a calm and collected person to deal with.

Jenson sighed but nodded. “Then I get first dibs at quali,” he bargained. You agreed.

Oscar came walking out, calm as ever. He was P2 in FP2, not bad considering last year, finishing in 8th. You stood up, but too quickly. Immediately, you knew you’d made a grave mistake, Jenson tried to grab you,but it was much too late, and it all went black.

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You woke up in the med tent with a pounding headache and someone’s hand in yours. “Jen, I’m fine-” you started sitting up, but it was Oscar who pushed you back down, he was holding your hand.

“Don’t get up too fast,” he instructed, making you lie back down. “We don’t want you fainting again.”

“Oscar?” You questioned.

“Hey,” he smiled, happy that you were awake.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You fainted in the media pen, I brought you here about 30 minutes ago,” he explained. “You’re dehydrated.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine,” you scoffed, trying to get up again. Again, he pushed you back down.

“You’re not. You’ll stay here until you have a clean bill of health,” he said, stricter and more serious than you’d ever seen him. “I have to go do some media, but I’ll be back in a half an hour, and I’ll bring you back to your hotel, yeah?”

You nodded, accepting your fate. “Whatever you say, doc.”

He smiled. “Good. See you then.”

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Usually, you would’ve told him to go fuck himself (you weren’t one to be told what to do), but considering how weak you felt and how little you wanted to go out there and ask more questions, you stayed put.

You thought about him, though. Oscar. After looking it up online, you did find out that your fainting was filmed. You watched in embarrassment as you went to the ground, Jenson yelping. What came next shocked you. Oscar quite literally jumped over the barrier, almost knocking over an entire camera, and ran over to you, cradling your head as he got others to step back and instructed Jenson to go get a medic. Then he turned to the cameras, and actually shouted at them to ‘fuck off’. Oscar Piastri showing emotion in 4K.

What was he, superman? Was he trying to make the dating rumours worse?

Either way, you appreciated the fact that he saved you, and the fact that he turned the cameras away from you too. You were also subject to the online conversations surrounding you and Oscar’s relationship. You rolled your eyes as every second comment was some variation on “oh my god the way he looks at her!!!”

Couldn’t people be friends anymore? Couldn’t people be nice anymore?

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You watched Oscar’s interviews from your laptop, then after 10 minutes from when his interviews ended, he appeared in front of you.

“My knight in shining armour,” you teased.

“You watched the interviews?” He sighed.

“Oh yeah,” you chuckled. Half of the interviews were about what had happened earlier and how Oscar had reacted. Jenson had called him your ‘knight in shining armour’ and now it would be his new nickname. “But seriously, thank you for everything, I’m feeling much better now.”

He nodded. “Anyone would do it.”

You shook your head. “You jumped over a barrier, almost knocked over a camera, made Jenson run, and told about 60 people to fuck off and stop filming me. That’s no small feat. Thank you Oscar.”

He blushed slightly. “You’re welcome.”

“I’d better head to my hotel, thank you again Oscar-”

“Let me drive you,” he offered.

“Oscar, you’ve done enough for me today-” “Please let me-”

“I don’t think it comes into the job of being a knight in shining armour-” “Please let me-” “Oscar seriously, I’m alright-”

“Let me drive you!” He finally raised his voice, speaking over you. “It’s ok to rely on people! You don’t need to be so stubborn!”

You silenced, your ego slightly bruised. “Fine,” you murmured, grabbing your things and getting up.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean it like-”

“I know what you meant,” you gritted out. “I’m letting you drive me, come on.”

He followed behind you, upset about how he’d handled the situation. He just wanted to take care of you. He wanted you to notice how much he cared.

He sat in the driver's seat and looked over at you. You stared straight ahead. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“You don’t need to be sorry Oscar,” you sighed, hiding your face in your hands.

“I do,” he shook his head. “I should be, I’m sorry. I love that you’re stubborn. You’re so smart, and independant and I understand that. I know you can take care of yourself, I just wanted to remind you that you don’t always have to.”

You sighed and took his hand, looking at him. “Thank you for today Oscar, but please just drive me to my hotel.”

He nodded, knowing he wasn’t going to get anything else out of you, and off he went. He walked you up to your hotel room, helped you into bed and promised to pick you up in the morning, and you were much too pissed off and tired to disagree.

He had a lot more than just qualifying on his mind went he went to bed.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

part one | part two | part three | part four