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#it seems to be working so far but what is one to do after 9 pm but snack
pharmacity-weekly · 19 hours
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THE PHARMACITY WEEKLY- FIRST EDITION- 9/23/2024
The first edition of the Pharmacity Weekly is here! For those of you who may not know, Pharmacity weekly is a weekly newsletter summing up the events of the project SEKAI pharmacy community. Inspired by @daily-vitamin-ena and the many other blogs that have popped up surrounding her, this paper's goal is to bring the entire pharmacity together! Thank you all for the MAJOR support this past week, I genuinely wasn't expecting so many people to enjoy this so early on, otherwise I would’ve polished things up here before going around, haha.. You can read more about the blog here! So, without further ado, here’s your FIRST PAPER!
PHARMACITY IS BOOMING-
The pharmacity is in full swing, and whilst many are on hiatus, lore is still coming left and right! Currently, we have Vitahona and their group reuniting for better or worse!! Vitasaki and the mysterious person + SakiAI, Vitaairi giving us the truth, and Vitan seems to have us going through quite the rollercoaster, with what's presumably anon passing out or dreaming constantly. I will be covering different lore every week, so please don’t be afraid to check out the lore threads to catch up! @daily-vitamin-tenma-siblings has made a community discord server! Linked here !! There's lots of silly things going on, it’s also open to both audience and pharmacity mods~
NEW PHARMACITIES-
new to the pharmacity? Pop into our asks and we’ll try to boost ya!
There’s only 2 new pharmacies as I’m aware of this week, which are- @vitalapis-daily and @daily-sekai-rin-vitamins ! Everyone welcome both Fumi and Pharmacist Adi <3 ____________________________________
LORE IN DEPTH-
Keep in mind that this bit of the newspaper will almost always have SOME guessing. The lore wouldn’t be Pharmacity lore without its ominous secrecy, after all..
Anywho. VitaAiri ( @daily-vitamin-airi ) seems to have us in quite the pickle! What were those memories, no one is quite sure yet. But, it seems anon has returned to taking their daily Vitairis consistently, for better or worse. Memories of hers seem to linger.. or are they ours?
VitAn ( @daily-vitamin-an ) seems to have anon passing out often, dreams floating them to places they really shouldn’t be.. they’d like to tell Anthea, but what exactly, the audience hasn’t decided. Their last lore post was an open ended question, maybe if anon answers a certain way in the reblogs or asks, we’ll get more info.
VitaHona ( @daily-vitamin-honami ) has dumped so much fucking lore on 22/9/24 10:48 MST that the summary would not do it justice. Mod bee will post that summary when she can because. how the fuck am i supposed to summarize lore that started FEBUARY 2023. YOU INSANE BITCH/LH
And of course, let’s not forget!
VitaSaki ( @semidaily-vitaminsaki ) whose lore arc seems to have recently began this month~! A missing Saki Tenma found in a computer, her AI an almost perfect version of her, and of course the mysterious person getting… no asks? Cmon guys, I thought we were after the mystery here! Even if the audience isn’t sure about trusting them, it’s still worth trying to ask both rather than one or the other~! Let’s go looking for some answers in those asks yall, chop chop!
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PAPER UPDATES-
Temporary section of the newspaper~! This’ll be a quick section that lets yall know how far I am on threads like lore or theories, as well as any huge changes to the blog!
MODERATOR SITUATION-
I (mod bee) have successfully dragged an irl into the pharmacity~! She'll be helping me run the blog overall, and our oc lores may intertwine a bit~ She also runs @vitalapis-daily , so be sure to follow that if you'd like to peek into her lore!
LORE THREADS-
Mod bee got VitAiri confirmed updated, and I just need to go through and make the buttons. Thank god VitaAiri’s Pharmacist wasn’t too vague this time, otherwise my work would be cut out for me!
Next in my lore queue is:
VitaHona (drafted, unfinished though)
VitaNene (not started)
Tenmamins (not started)
VitaSaki (not started)
VitaRui (not started)
These are blogs/accounts mod bee will be at least LOOKING into lore for. Each blog will have their own doc that’ll be sent to their respective mod(s) and checked for accuracy, as well as asked if they’d like to keep reentry or sideblog posts!
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END OF PAPER! Thank you all for the support once again!!! We'll see you all on the next edition~ - Akko and Fumi!
Have questions or suggestions? Send em over in our asks!
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un-tide · 7 months
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no eating after 9 pm save me
save me no eating after 9 pm
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lewisvinga · 3 months
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my special girls | lewis hamilton x fem! reader
summary; one of the greatest days in lewis’ life, his 104th win and the birth of his daughter.
warnings; mentions of pregnancy/labor, probs labor inaccuracies
word count; 1.4k
all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts
note; i need to see more lewis fics after 104th🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️BUT ALZKLALSSM 104TH THATS MY GOATTTT THATS WHY HE’S THE GOATT😭😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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The Mercedes garage was tense, more tense than usual. The final laps of the British Grand Prix made everyone nervous and anxious. Lewis was just laps away from his 104th win.
Both George, who unfortunately had to retire due to issues with his car, and Carmen stood by a very anxious 9-month pregnant Y/n Hamilton. Although Lewis advised his wife to stay home due to how far along she was in her pregnancy despite it being his home race, she refused.
Carmen held onto her hand, their eyes focused on the screen as the final lap began. Although she was also upset with what happened to George, the couple couldn’t help but feel happy for the 7x world champion.
Time seemed to pass by slowly as Lewis drove around the final corners. Y/n didn’t notice anything happening around her, her focus completely on the screen.
‘Lewis Hamilton wins the 2024 British Grand Prix.’
Those 8 words the married couple longed to hear were finally being said. Y/n carefully but quickly jumped up from her seat, cheering loudly as her husband passed the checked flag. With one hand around her pregnant stomach and the other being thrown in the air while crying, she didn’t even notice the faint cramping in her abdomen.
The team rushed to meet up with Lewis, Carmen staying behind to help Y/n who slowly waddled behind the rushing team. She couldn’t hold back her tears as she watched her husband hugging his father in tears.
She stayed with the Spanish girl, not wanting to be within the grand crowd for safety reasons. Her vision was cloudy from tears. There were black smudges around her eyes as she carefully wiped her eyes to not mess up her cheeks.
Through her teary eyes, she could see the deep brown eyes she fell in love with years ago right in front of her.
Lewis carefully wrapped his arms around her, keeping a hand on her stomach. “My loves.” He whispered, pressing a kiss against her plump lips. “You both okay?
Y/n reaches up to carefully wipe the stray tears on his cheek. “Worrying about me after winning?” She teases through tears. “We’re fine and we’re so proud of you.” She cradled his face in her hands.
Only she knew how much Lewis had truly struggled after that day in 2021. She knew the mental anguish he went through whenever a race went poorly, so desperate to prove to others he was still as good as he was in his prime. She knew how hurt he had been with what was happening with Mercedes, wanting to spend his last season with the German team in a good way.
It seemed everything he had been through was worth it when Y/n revealed she was pregnant. Suddenly, everything didn’t matter. He just wanted to be there for his wife and child.
9 months later, he was washed over with a large wave of emotions as he passed the checkered flag knowing his pregnant wife was in the crowd.
“Gotta make sure my girls are okay,” Lewis mumbled, resting his head in the crook of her neck. Her long nails gently scratched his scalp. She hummed as she felt him press a kiss on her shoulder. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” Y/n whispered back as he lifted his head from her hold. She gestured toward where the reporter was waiting for a quick post-race interview before the podium. “Go, my love, we’ll be waiting for you after you’re all done.”
With one last kiss, Lewis left her to do his post-race interview. She left with Carmen to slowly waddle walk back to the garage. She didn’t feel quite comfortable being part of the crowd during the podium celebration so she opted to watch from the TV in the garage.
They had barely made it back when Y/n suddenly felt another sharp pain in her abdomen. She felt a small puddle of liquid by her feet. Carmen and her look down at the puddle before making eye contact.
“The baby?” The Spanish girl questioned, trailing off when the pregnant woman nodded.
“Is coming.”
Lewis’s mother, Carmen, had kept a close eye on her daughter-in-law the entire day. She noticed the panicked look on both of the girls’ faces and rushed over to them. “Is everything alright, dear?”
“Her water broke.” The Spanish girl explained, keeping her hand interlocked with the laboring woman.
“Don’t tell Lewis yet. I want him to enjoy this day.” Y/n said in between deep breaths. Before either woman could protest, she added, “Do not test me right now. The contractions aren’t bad yet and I don’t want to go to the hospital until there are a few minutes in between.”
“Let’s take you to his driver's room then, dear.” The elder Carmen says, taking her daughter-in-law in her arms and helping her. The younger Carmen followed behind due to the two becoming quite close.
Time had passed and Lewis was finishing up all his media duties. He wanted nothing more than to be in the embrace of his wife on such a special day. His eyebrows furrowed up when he couldn’t find her in the garage. He looked around confused until he saw Carmen appear out of his motor room looking distressed as she spoke with George who was waiting outside.
“What's going on?” Lewis asked confused, feeling a surge of worry running through his veins.
“Y/n, her water broke earlier and we wanted to get you but she refused! Your mom only let her refuse because her contractions weren’t too bad yet,” The Spanish girl explained to Y/n’s worried husband. “But they’re getting closer now so I came to get you and-“
Lewis didn’t let her finish before rushing into his motorhome. He spotted Y/n leaning against the wall with his mother supporting her by her arm. “My love, why’d you wait this long?” He softly says, quietly thanking his mother before taking her place with his wife.
“Wanted you to enjoy this day and your win-“
“But you’re pregnant and in labor. This is far more important and urgent.”
“So does that mean we can go to the hospital now?”
Lewis sighed, shaking his head as a smile crept up on his lips. He turned to his mom before grabbing Y/n’s bag, “I’ll take her now. I’ll keep you updated.”
His mother simply nodded and gave her son a kiss on his cheek. She gives Y/n an encouraging smile before whispering, “If your daughter is anything like my son, it’ll be a fast delivery.”
Y/n chuckled at her words before waving goodbye to her. Lewis sighed as he easily scooped her up in his arms. Fortunately, George had called an ambulance which was waiting by the entrance of the paddock just in time.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
Although winning after so long at home was so special to Lewis, he knew nothing could beat what he currently felt as he cradled the tiny baby in his arms.
Hours before he held the golden trophy signifying he won his 104th race. Now, he’s holding one of the most important girls in his life.
Just like her father, little Ophelia came out fast. Y/n was only in the hospital for an hour or so before it was time for her to push. Tears hadn’t stopped flowing from their faces from the moment Lewis won to even after Ophelia’s birth.
“What a day.” Y/n sleepily chuckled, waking up from a nap that had been knocked out for a while. Lewis turned around with a sleeping Ophelia still in his arms. “You win a race and you get a daughter who is identical to you even if I carried her for 9 months?”
“How are you feeling?” He asked his wife who scooted over to the side, signaling for him to sit next to her.
“Tired. Happy, but tired.” She immediately melted into his side.
She gently runs her finger over Ophelia’s cheek. The newborn was still in deep sleep, clearly exhausted after being born just a few hours earlier.
Lewis couldn’t help but admire the two. June 7th was undoubtedly one of the happiest days of his life. He’s won many times before. He’s won trophies and world championships. Winning at home after 3 years was something special. But winning in life with his wife by his side and his daughter in his arms was something unexplainable.
He leaned down to press a kiss on Ophelia’s forehead before pressing a kiss against Y/n’s lips. “Don’t know what I’d do without you two. My special girls.”
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beardedjoel · 6 months
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oasis
dbf neighbor! joel miller x f!reader. one shot.
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main masterlist | ao3 | kofi
summary: your dad's friend is tasked with looking after you while he's out of town. he ends up finding you somewhere you absolutely shouldn't be. blackmail ensues. 8.3k words.
for @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my genre was dark and the prompt was "please don't tell my dad!" thanks for the amazing challenge! 💌
warnings: 18+ MDNI! dark themes, joel is pervy and sleazy, age gap (reader is under drinking age but an adult so 18-20, joel's age unmentioned but he calls himself an old man and he's 50+ in my head), consensual but there are elements of coercion and blackmail so... (it's dark! okay!), unprotected piv, lap sitting, lap dance, thigh/crotch riding, orgasm denial, pussy pronouns, dirty diiiirty talk, cumshot?, reader has hair that can be pulled and wears lingerie but otherwise is undescribed.
a/n: this is less edited than my usual work but i hope i did it justice! it was very fun and silly to come up with this idea and i ended up loooving how crazy it got!
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Keep an eye on her while we’re gone, eh?
The words from your father ring through Joel’s ears when he hears the start of an engine from where he sits in his living room, his view on the plush couch offering a perfect view through the large picture window on the front of the house. Right to where you live with your dad, where he can see the lights of your car come on. Bingo. He’s got you now.
Obsession felt like a strong word, but Joel could describe it no other way as soon as you’d moved in across the street - your dad was a longtime friend and neighbor, talk of his little girl rampant for years before he’d had the chance to meet you. You were going to be going to college nearby, so you moved from where you lived with your mom in California down to your father in Texas, right across the street from where he’d had the pleasure of laying eyes on you for the first time.
Young. Supple. Beautiful. And so damn shy. 
He hated just how much it turned him on when your timid eyes would find his. The pervy old man who couldn’t keep his eyes off a young girl - what a god damned cliche he’d become. He kept tabs on you, at first not really realizing he was doing it, eyes peering out the windows to catch you on your way out the door or coming home soon escalated to trying to see into your bedroom window at the front of the house. His time with your father mysteriously seemed to double, then triple, any chance he could to get close to you, see you in your natural habitat, hoping to learn more about this special girl that had captured so much of his attention.
You dressed modestly, too - far too modestly for his liking - he knew your father was a strict man, and assumed just as much about your mother from the way your dad talked about his ex-wife. He never got to see enough of you, except for the few times you had on shorter dresses when the summer heat just got to be too much to bear, and those rare occasions burned themselves into his memory, a bank of images to pull from when he took a hand to his cock and thought of you.
He’s up in a flash, smiling softly to himself as he quickly slides on his shoes and swipes his keys from the front table, exiting the house and seeing your car still parked in the drive. You always sit there too long before driving off, probably playing on your phone, texting your friends, whatever the hell young girls like you do. All Joel knows is he’s grateful it gives him enough time to sneak to his truck before you can get too far, waiting until you pull out and start down the street before starting his own car.
Joel checks the time as he starts down his driveway and sees it’s well after 9:00 pm. Where the hell could you be going, you naughty thing? Your dad has a strict curfew for you, he knows, and if he’s tasked with keeping an eye on you, he might as well do it right.
So he follows you. You get on the highway, heading towards downtown, and Joel’s eyebrows raise as he turns up his music, cruising along behind you, so unaware as he sees the outline of your own head bopping along to your music when he can get a clear enough view.
When you finally park, the city streets bustling with people out late on a Friday night around you, Joel sits in his truck, eyes peeled as he watches you round a building, disappearing. Oasis, the glowing sign on the front says. It looks a bit seedy, this area of town, a bouncer on the outside that you’d given a curt wave to sending Joel’s expression into pure shock before a determined smirk crosses his lips.
It turns out it’s not as exclusive as having a bouncer would make it seem. Joel waits in line with the others, feeling a bit out of place but his appetite to bust you outweighs all of it. Not more than ten minutes later he’s inside, the dark hallway opening up to a massive room laid out in front of him. It’s busy - bodies everywhere, the smell of sweat, alcohol, and arousal permeating everything and Joel blinks to adjust his eyes to the dim mood lighting. A dance floor takes up most of the middle, crowded to the max as music bumps through the speakers, and two bars flank either side, fully packed as well. There are lounges everywhere - cushy leather couches with tables, and as Joel’s vision comes in in full, he sees more private spots along the edges of the room on a slightly elevated area, curtains closing them in.
Too busy taking everything in, he doesn’t even notice the most important detail right away - the waitresses. More specifically, the way they’re all dressed. Gorgeous bodies of all shapes and sizes, parading around in what is essentially lingerie - a lacy black bra paired with a matching set of panties, sheer black stockings and a garter trailing down their legs all the way to the heels that adorn their feet. Joel feels a twinge inside his belly, pulling low and taut when he spots one of the waitresses with thick thighs and a plush stomach grinding on a woman sitting on one of the couches, the receiver throwing her head back in teasing, pleased laughter before taking a long sip of her drink. He continues scanning the room, seeing another man closer to his age being straddled by a different waitress with one of the nicest pairs of tits Joel has ever seen in that same uniform, her hips swaying and grinding so close to his crotch as she gives him a lapdance.
Fuck.
His mind spins faster, blood going hot as it runs through his veins, his cock twitching under the denim of his jeans. It’s been too long - all the pining, the built up frustration, and he’s needy. He finds it hard to believe you’d just be out partying at a place like this, certainly not the neighborly girl he knows. Bringing over leftovers you’d cooked for you and your dad, always with a little treat on the side and a soft smile, your frilly socks and white tennis shoes, collars that never revealed much past the very top of your gorgeous tits. But it still made him fucking crazy, all of it. He wanted to be the one to ruin it, to see who you really are underneath all of the fluff and sweetness. Because at the end of the day, he knows he wasn’t imagining that glint in your eye that told him you had more to offer.
Joel shakes the distractions and his dirty, racing thoughts, eyes scanning the room for you, remembering his mission. He is about to internally ask himself the question when your appearance answers everything he needs to know. Slack jawed, he looks on as you step out from behind one of the bars, tossing a smile over your shoulder at one of the other workers as you start to move carrying a tray full of drinks. 
When you emerge in full, strutting your way across the room, you’re wearing it. The outfit. The skimpy bra and panties to match all of the other servers. Your coworkers. Oh, he’s so thoroughly fucked right now, he thinks in a rising panic. But then again, so are you.
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“Thank god you’re here! You’re seriously such a life saver,” Kristina says breathlessly as you breeze into the locker room. She’s one of the supervisors here at Oasis, the club you’ve been working at since the beginning of the summer. Sure, you were underage to serve alcohol, but the owners of this club seemed willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of things to gain good talent. Good pay, direct cash, and an insane amount in tips. Enough to pay your way through college, you hoped. Beyond all of that, once you’d gotten into the swing of things you found that you liked it, too. The power you felt in these heels, the way eyes followed you everywhere, you’d never felt so desired, so free or sexually open in your life. Although the only time you’d actually had sex was with your one ex-boyfriend, and it never felt like you do here - sexy, with raw desire filling the air, something so tangible you feel you can reach out and touch it sometimes.
You pull your shirt over your head, unclasping your regular bra and swapping it for the black, lacy one that lives inside your locker. Kristina stands nearby, unfazed by your bare chest as she thanks you. She’d called you about forty five minutes ago, begging for you to come in on your night off when another server, Rochelle, got sick right as things started to pick up. Friday night tips hadn’t sounded so bad when you had no plans apart from watching TV in your dad’s empty house, so it felt like a win.
“No problem,” you say, smiling at her. “Happy to help.”
“You’ve got section five tonight - Justin has Laura covering right now, just switch out when you’re ready, kay?”
You confirm, quickly finishing up your swap into your uniform, admiring yourself in the mirror with a soft smile, still getting used to the look of lingerie on you. You’d have been stupid to keep something like this in the house with either of your parents, not worth the risk if they found out about it.
The noise of the club blares, making you wince for a quick moment as you step out from the calmness of the locker room to the deafening noise beyond and get your bearings behind the bar. It really is busy, but all you can see is money when you glance around, admiring how full the place is tonight. 
You’re stopped in the middle of your flow after swinging by the bar to pick up drinks for one of your tables. It’s an extra flirtatious group of men who are practically ready to feast on you, but for all the poorly managed things about this club, they at least have a strict no touching rule with the staff that is enforced by any number of the security guards around. So you get to have your fun, keep your distance, and hope they pay extra for a lapdance from you and tip you well for it.
“You’ve got a, uh, private request,” Justin says, speaking quietly but leaning close to your ear so you can hear him. You pull back, a look of surprise on your face, a questioning glance that he confirms with a nod. “We’ll cover your tables. Room seven.”
Your mind spins faster as you walk towards the room. The rooms aren’t fully private, just a halfway curtain that gives the impression you’re more alone than you are. That luxury doesn’t come cheap, so whoever booked this room and asked for you must mean business. In fact, management hasn’t even put you on serving private rooms regularly yet, reserving that right to the more tenured employees until you work your way up the ladder. You smile, wondering who it could even be that specifically requested you - a regular that loved the banter you’d offered? A new customer who was drawn to you from across the room? It makes your heart skip a little, anticipation and a hint of nervousness coursing through you as you reach the curtain, stepping beyond to see your mystery customer.
Holy shit.
The sultry smile you’d plastered on fades right off your face, replaced with a deep set frown, your mouth open but unable to speak. Your stomach is rapidly dropping to depths it's never known before as your face starts to burn hot, cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. Your arms fly up to your chest, crossing them over as some kind of futile cover of yourself, but his eyes are trained there unashamedly, seeing the way your arms have really just accentuated your cleavage. He’s spread out on one of the loveseats, completely alone, knees wide apart, lap open and desperately inviting when it absolutely should not be.
“M-Mr. Miller?”
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Joel was having far too much fun with this. The priceless look on your face that had wiped off the pretty grin you’d had was worth every damn penny he’d spent on this ridiculous room just to get you alone. You think you can cover up, somehow, but it only really offers Joel a better view of your bottom half, the lacy shorts style panties a treat for his weary gaze, the garters sitting against your soft skin one of the most enticing things he’s ever seen. He instantly feels his cock getting hard as his eyes rake up and down your body, settling on where your tits are now pressed together against your crossed arms.
“Mr. Miller?” you stutter out after a long, dense silence between the two of you.
“Don’t cover up on account’a me, sweetheart,” Joel replies cooly, threading his hands together behind his head, looking even more relaxed than when you’d first walked in. Your arms seem to tighten around you, the complete opposite of Joel.
“Wh-what are you -” you start trying to ask, and Joel notices how you suddenly look unbalanced, legs shaking underneath you. You attempt a step forward, bringing yourself further into the room and it gives Joel an even closer look at you, and god damn you’re gorgeous. Your skin looks flawless, so smooth and soft looking - the apex of your thighs coming closer to eye level as you move forward, all adorned by that lace that’s making him wild. He’s never seen anything close to this much of your skin before, and he has half a mind to grab you right here and toss you over his lap, taking everything he wants from you.
“Could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?” he questions you, enjoying the tease, the way he sees your face screw up a little tighter at the very valid point he was making. You’re caught, and there’s no way around it now, he thinks smugly.
Your face falls, eyes going to the ground and watching your feet shift nervously in your heels. “I-I get it. You made your point. I’ll go home, okay? I know I shouldn’t be here -” you stammer out, and the guilty look on your face tells Joel what he’d already suspected - your dad knows absolutely nothing about this job of yours. 
“No, you shouldn’t,” Joel says, but he makes no move to get up, keeping a steady, unrelenting gaze on you. When you flick your eyes up to him, he sees they’re watery, and it makes his insides twinge with a strange mixture of regret and pleasure as he sees the tears brimming along the edges of your eyes, the subtle panic he can see growing. 
“You’re bein’ very bad, ain’t ya? ” Joel tuts, and you seem to almost flinch at the words from where you awkwardly stand in front of him still, unsure of what to do, where to go. Joel feels that pleasure growing warm in his gut, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “I mean, look at that outfit, sweetheart -” Joel starts with a low whistle, sitting forward slightly so you can see just how much he’s admiring it, his eyes narrowed in inspection, the weathered lines in his face apparent with the way his brows are raised. “Thas’ a far cry from those clothes you wear on my doorstep, play actin’ a good little girl.”
“N-no! I don’t - I didn’t mean - I am good.” You’re more and more visibly flustered, your arms wrapping around yourself as Joel continues to tease you, intent on bringing you down a few more notches.
Joel gives you a condescending glare. “Darlin’, ain’t nothin’ good about this. Lemme tell you what I think…” He leans back again, staring up at you, not once inviting you to sit, and knowing you won’t unless he does - he wants to make you sweat. “You never got to have that rebellious streak w’ both your parents bein’ who they are, did ya? An’ you thought you deserved it, to have a little fun, didn’t you?”
Your lip quivers and you blink back another set of hot, embarrassed tears, eyes trained back on the dark, faux marble floors, refusing to speak.
“Didn’t you?” he asks again with more bite. Fucking brat. Good thing Joel had plenty of tactics up his sleeve to whip a wannabe brat back into a good girl, he thinks with a sly smile to himself.
“Y-yes! Okay? I wanted to do something… for me,” you finally admit, feeling yourself shake a little at his demanding words.
“Now was that so hard?” Joel asks, becoming acutely aware of just how hard he is, almost painfully so now that he’s been teasing you, fantasizing about this moment for far too long. You shake your head, still hung downwards in shame before bringing your eyes back to his. They look soft, youthful and desperate, and Joel has never felt so turned on in his goddamn life, all the power he’s feeling rushing right to his cock.
“J-just… please don’t tell my dad,” you say, almost quiet enough Joel can’t hear it over the distant bump of the music. But he made it out, the words he’d been hoping you’d say, the ones he knew you’d have to utter.
“I won’t,” Joel starts, seeing the relief flood your face, nearly laughing at how quickly you put stock in his words before even hearing what else he has to say. So naive. “But what’s in it for me, hm? Ain’t gonna keep a secret without a little… incentive.” Joel’s hands plant on his thighs, running up the length of them as he watches your emotions shift in real time, your jaw going slack, eyes widening and barely blinking. You just stutter, completely taken aback and Joel had expected as much - you’re too good of a girl to navigate a situation like this. Good thing he already has his next words planned and loaded up to help you along.
“Laps feelin’ mighty empty, y’know…” Joel muses, leaning back and spreading his palms out on the leather couch next to his thighs. You flash your eyes to his legs, then his face again, mouth gaping open, finally realizing just what he’s asking for. 
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You can’t believe this is happening to you. You should never have taken this job, kept such a big secret from your dad that you knew he’d absolutely kill you for if he found out. You were technically an adult now, but that didn’t mean you could just throw away his rules while you lived at home with him. 
And now you were being blackmailed by his friend. His very handsome friend, but you’re trying hard not to think about that right now. There’s no way he’s serious about this, no way he could actually want this from you? The neighbor girl, his friend’s daughter? Mr. Miller had always been kind, just a bit of a grumpy edge to him but he loved to joke around with your dad. You often caught them laughing together, too shy to have inserted yourself enough with someone who made your skin grow hot just from glancing into his dark, chocolate brown eyes. But without that buffer of your dad, here alone in the dim lighting of the club, it was like he’d become another man. 
“Y-you want me to…?” you say, blinking hard as you stare at his thick thighs and crotch, all spread wide open. It’s enticing - normally even with an attractive customer you find yourself thinking of it more as work - fun work, but still work. But with Joel… you’d felt heat pooling between your thighs as he observed you this entire conversation, the desire starting to outweigh the embarrassment you were feeling. 
“Paid for it, didn’t I?” he remarks practically, a nip of impatience edging his voice as you swallow hard and step forward. 
“Y-you don’t have to… we can get a refund if you don’t want me to do it…” you say, trying to remind yourself not to mumble, but your nerves are getting the best of you. 
Joel’s head shakes slowly, his hand drifting out smoothly from his body towards you, tenderly locking on to where your wrist dangles at your side and pulls you closer. Closer. Closer, until he’s pulling you down so that you have to bend down, coming face to face with him. Your cheeks burn, breathing heavy and stunted as the tension in the air thickens, his lips so close to yours. You can’t help but glance at them, the inviting curve of his lips drawing you in, but Joel’s eyes are elsewhere, peering down right between your bodies where your tits are on such display for him, spilling out of the bra at this angle. 
“Like I said,” he coos softly, eyes obviously drifting up towards your face, “I need a little incentive to not spill your dirty little secret, darlin’.” A smirk grows on his face before he lets go of your wrist, and you stumble backwards a little. 
“Y-you -” you stutter again, trying to counter him, but you come up short. “O-okay…” you mutter with a sigh, taking a deep breath before you hesitantly turn around, facing your back to him. 
Joel tuts immediately at your lack of enthusiasm. “None of that, gimme the full show, sweetheart, or the deal’s off.”
You huff quietly, taking a few steps away from Joel, readying yourself. He can see the change in your demeanor already, the more confident strides you take before turning around, facing him again. Then you begin your routine, practiced and ready, pacing towards him with a feline, graceful energy, heels clicking on the floor as you slip one leg in front of the other, heading towards him. You almost hesitate, pushing yourself through the doubt as your hand reaches out, grazing along his shoulder, moving inward towards his collarbone.
Your fingers drag along his chest, where one button of his flannel shirt is open, wishing you could delve your whole hand inside and feel the more than likely gorgeous planes of his chest. Christ, he’s so meaty, so thick everywhere you touch. 
A soft rumble escapes his chest before you turn around, grinding your ass downwards and then back up, teasing him by getting a little lower each time. But it’s not enough, he knows you’re holding back, your movements a little stilted and awkward. His cell phone is out of his pocket before he can think much more about it, snapping a photo of the way your ass is grinding down towards him, just enough of your side profile in the photo that it’s undeniably you. 
“Come on, know you can do better’n that.” Joel clicks his tongue, making you freeze, hovering awkwardly above him. “Do this for a livin’ lord knows how many nights a week. If you ain’t gonna give me what I paid my hard earned money for I can call your daddy right now… maybe jus’ text him this picture. What d’you think about that?” Joel asks, holding his cell phone forward and into your eyesight. You gasp, hands grabbing for it just as he snatches it away. 
“D-delete that! Please!” you cry out, feeling panic squeeze at your chest. Fuckfuckfuck you are so thoroughly fucked right now if Joel has photo evidence.
Joel smiles down at his phone, peering at the image one last time before pocketing it. “No can do, sweetheart. Now, I don’t really wanna have to ask again, yeah?”
You only gape at him for a moment longer before snapping your mouth shut and positioning yourself above his lap again. “F-fine. Jesus,” you mutter angrily, finding that the irritation you’re feeling is starting to spur you on as you begin to move again, feeling yourself turned on by Joel’s musk in your space, the heat of his body radiating towards yours in this close proximity. Not to mention you can sense just how turned on he is, how much this is affecting him as you move with more conviction, hips delicately swinging in front of him. If he wants a show, you’ll give him your best yet, you think with determination.
“F-fuck… attagirl,” Joel lets slip when you brush his crotch with your ass. He’s barely holding it together with your curves swaying tantalizingly in front of him, something even his wildest dreams likely couldn’t have conjured up. He’d never think he’d see you like this - so sensual, so fucking gorgeously in control of your sexual aura that it could make a man lose control. Your customers were beyond lucky, he thinks with a pang of jealousy shooting through him, making his blood boil hotter, his possessive side come out. While he’d been at home pining over you, thinking about you with a hand stroking his own cock, you’d been here - rubbing your pretty ass on all those lucky fucks and their undeserving crotches. 
The thought makes him insane, the image of you doing this to any other man, so when you lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest, your ass just beginning to grind on his jeans, his hands go to your hips instinctively trying to bring you down onto him, to claim you. You slow your movements to a stop, leaning your head back towards his ear so that you’re almost entirely pressed against him now. 
“Not s-supposed to touch,” you say, you voice the only thing giving away just how nervous you still are. 
“Don’t fuckin’ care, if I’m honest,” Joel huffs back quietly, his voice husky and breathless. You bite back a moan as his rough hands wrap around each side of your waist tightly and help guide you that last inch downwards, sending your ass fully rolling over his crotch. 
“H-holy shit…” you whimper when you feel the rough denim brush along the outside of your panties. You feel a flush run through you, your skin burning hot as you realize you won’t be able to hide how wet you’ve gotten for very long. It began slowly, just with his brooding, questioning eyes on you, now reaching a fever pitch as you’re in his space and feeling the prominent bulge in his pants. 
It’s been far too long since you were satisfied. Truly satisfied. 
Your breath catches as Joel fingers wiggle inward a little after hearing how much you’re getting into it, even closer to the waistband of your panties, the two of you facilitating the grinding motion together as you bear down a little more on his lap. Joel lets out a pleased hum, still somehow giving you the sense that he’s the one holding back now. His hands still have an air of respect to them, like they’re vibrating with the need to wrap completely around you and pull you to him, to roam your skin and grab at all the forbidden parts of you. 
When the thought flashes across your mind, you realize you want him to. 
“T-touch me…” you whisper, immediately clamping your betraying mouth shut as the words float out into the air. You hold your breath, waiting to see if Joel heard you.
“What’s that, gorgeous? Couldn’t quite hear you,” Joel says, his tone a low, mocking sound that tells you he’s baiting you, that he wants to play with his food before eating it. Your eyes narrow before they shut completely, rolling back when he forces your ass to move along his bulge again.
“F-fu- touch me,” you spit out a bit louder. “Please.”
“You poor thing,” you hear him tut from behind you, forcing your hips upwards and away before grasping onto your hands, turning you around to face him. “Can’t get us in trouble now, can we?” he asks tauntingly, his eyes giving you a heated staredown as they widen, almost looking sympathetic if there wasn’t so much of an appetite behind them.
You whimper, visibly whining as your face screws up, squeezing his hands with yours. Joel tugs, so lightly that you’d almost think it was your own idea as you start to come back down towards him, pressing the warmth between your legs against his thigh. You sigh shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly swing one leg over top of his and bear down a little more, straddling his thigh.
“We w-won’t… we won’t…” you breathe out, knowing it’s not the complete truth, but room seven is especially tucked back, hardly getting any traffic. In fact, it was known for bending the rules a bit. 
“She’s so needy, huh? You all wet for me, sweetheart, that it? She need a little relief?” Joel taunts, and when you open your eyes to meet his gaze, he’s practically pouting. Your cheeks burn at how desperate he’s making you sound, but your hips twitch of their own accord, sending a zing of pleasure up your spine and you whimper quietly again, giving yourself away even further. 
“Y-yes, Mr. Miller…”
“Keep on doin’ your little dance, pretty girl, jus’ right there,” Joel urges you, a hand finding the small of your back, the other locked onto your hip as you start to rock forward, then back again. Relief instantly floods you as your clit brushes against the ripples in the hard denim, making you move harder against him, mouth popped open in fresh ecstasy. 
“Close that mouth before I shove somethin’ in it, you fuckin’ tease,” Joel grits out, his eyes burning wildly, finally giving you a glimpse at how affected he is as he keeps his stare on your face, starting to sheen with sweat. Your mouth snaps shut, a stifled moan pulling from your throat and behind your closed lips, threatening to burst out of you.
“This ain’t against the rules? Havin’ a pretty girl ride my thigh?” he asks in cruel teasing, flickering eyes glancing down to where your hips are shamelessly rocking on him.
“I- I don’t - know-“ you choke out, your legs starting to tremble as the pleasure slowly, steadily builds deep inside of you. “I d-don’t care…”
“Riiight, she’s on her rebellious streak now, ain’t she?” Joel mutters facetiously, smiling a devious grin as he watches your face screw up in concentration. You truly don’t care, you can’t care anymore when whatever the hell is going on feels so good. Damn this job, damn Joel’s games, you’re going to get what you need out of this right now, too. Your head is thrown back as your whines and moans escalate, showing Joel just how close you’re getting. 
“That’s it, god you’re beggin’ for it, ain’t you? So dirty…” Joel’s hands grip tighter along your hips, starting to drag you inwards, towards his aching, clothed bulge. “Beggin’ for your daddy’s friend's cock while you make a mess all over his thigh, aren’t you? Who would’ve thought a good girl like you’d be wantin’ to get fucked by an old man?”
His words make you clench around nothing, the harsh tone making your insides twist in pleasure as you roll your hips a little faster. “F-fuck… I - I need to - Mr. Miller -” you plead aimlessly, feeling your core tightening, the obscene wetness driving you to full on madness as your pussy aches, cries out for Joel.
Your leg is being dragged over top of him, forcing you to fully straddle his lap, thighs stretched wide and burning at how wide you’re going to accommodate his huge frame. You’re in disbelief at the rough, needy noise Joel makes as soon as your cunt is pulled down onto him, Joel’s hands forcing your hips to start thrusting against him. You nearly lose your balance, wrapping your arms around his neck to hang on as he looks at you with determination. Hands planted firmly on your ass, squeezing hard as he relishes in the feel of finally having you like this, feeling your warm heat seeping through his denim right to where he’s desperate to have you most.
“Joel,” he corrects in his haze, stunting your hips to press down hard on his cock, sending a gasp flying out of your mouth at the sheer size of what’s to come. Your mouth is practically watering, so close to what your body craves now, what it needs. When your fingers graze the button of his jeans, he stiffens, seeming to snap out his lustful fog as he swats your hand away.
“Fuck… later,” Joel says suddenly, using every bit of self restraint to push you back, moving your heat from his bulge, the instantaneous lack of you devastating him to the core. 
Your brows quickly knit in confusion at the sudden change in course. “W-why…?” you whisper breathlessly, bringing your lips near his neck, kissing the rough skin, working your way up to his patchy, gray flecked beard. His hand is at the back of your head, yanking you backwards by the hair, tearing your lips off of him in a brutal rush. He holds you there, the pull on your scalp starting to prickle harder as you sit staring at him like a tamed animal being held up by its scruff. 
“Can’t fuck you properly in here. Too many fuckin’… people. Prying eyes wantin’ to see what all the fuss is about.”
“I-I can be quiet,” you retort, hating just how much it sounds like begging but the hold he has on you right now is so intense, so inexplicable that you’d say anything, you think.
Joel huffs, a tiny, incredulous snort coming out of his nose. “No, you can’t. Not if I’m doin’ what I plan on doin’ to you. We can’t have anyone come snoopin’, can we?”
You shake your head, suddenly wondering if he’s about to drag you out of here, take you home to his bed, or your bed, you think with a shudder. You feel a pull inside your belly, thinking you just might let him if you don’t get your head back on straight soon. 
“An’ you still gotta work the rest of your shift, make your money, don’t you babydoll?” Joel says with a smirk growing, making your face fall completely into a deep frown. “Call it a little punishment for bein’ such a bad, naughty girl, yeah? Then you can finish up givin’ me my piece of the pie.”
You find yourself gaping at him for the umpteenth time tonight in disbelief. He wasn’t going to just leave you… like this? Was he? You can feel your clit pulsing against your panties, your body tense and wound up, on the precipice of coming so hard you saw stars only a few moments ago. 
“Up, now,” Joel says, shifting his legs so that you’re forced to move, scrambling up onto your shaky legs, feeling like a newborn fawn getting your footing again.
“W-wait… I already - didn’t I… give you what you want?” you ask, suddenly feeling yourself snapping out of the heady, lust filled haze Joel had you in. This was insane, right? You can’t fuck him, you shouldn’t. It wasn’t right for either of you, and you’d been crazy to have just been this close to letting him stuff you full.
Joel’s head tilts, watching your slightly messy hair and smudged makeup for a few beats with a discerning gaze. “Nah, darlin’, you just gave me what I paid for. This is what I want.”
Your heart and stomach sink to new depths. “N-no. Joel! You said… if I gave you the lap dance you wouldn’t tell my dad. And I gave you a hell of a lot more than that -” Joel stands, interrupting you, coming forward and crowding your space, his hulking mass like a tower next to you, shadowing you with his commanding energy.
“Watch your mouth,” he snips, a hand gripping onto your wrist. “I’m the one callin’ the shots here, an’ I changed my mind once I saw just how pretty that sweet little pussy of yours can be. So here’s what’s gonna happen…” Joel’s fingers come up to ghost along your cheek, trailing down your neck, along the swells of your breasts as he speaks. You can’t help but shudder at the attention, how good it feels on your sensitive, needy skin.
“You go on out there, tell ‘em what a great job you did in here, work the rest of your shift like a good girl, thinkin’ about just how fuckin’ wet you got these pretty panties, how bad she needs a little help from Mr. Miller.”
Your breath is caught in your throat at his words, hitching further as his touch skates further down, sending your hips twitching forward. 
“An’ I’ll be waitin’ for you after, darlin’, for what I’m owed.”
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Your heart pounds as you slip out the side door and into the alleyway, pausing to let the cool night air wash over you as you gather your thoughts. Your mind is at war with itself, one half of you knowing this is a terrible idea, setting you up for complete disaster in the future. How could you ever face Joel again if you two took it that far? Then again, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to face him in the daylight already, anyways, without your cheeks burning so hot they caught fire. The other half of you was winning, had been winning as you worked the rest of your shift in a complete daze, hardly recognizing your own movements as your body burned hot and needy, mind completely scrambled by the conundrum of your father’s closest friend coming onto you and more.
You spent the rest of your shift coming to terms with the fact that you do want to fuck him. So badly. Even if it’s wrong, a complete mistake in every single way. You also know your mind isn’t to be trusted right now, running on pure horniness and desperation, never having been fucked in the way you know Joel could. His experience, his power, the way his lustful eyes had drank you in like the sweetest balm - it was all too hard to turn down. You turn, looking the opposite way down the alleyway from your car, starting to think you might be able to sneak around the block and get in your car and drive off without him noticing, wondering exactly where he’s waiting for you. You don’t see a soul, hear anyone else in this alley apart from the distant music from inside and chatter from along the main street which is a far cry from where the employee exit to Oasis dropped you. 
You take the risk, heart thrumming wildly as you start down the alley, saying a silent apology to Joel in your head, and then yourself for letting this secret come out, knowing Joel was definitely not bluffing if you didn’t follow through on your end of the deal. Better to face punishment from your father than have to deal with the consequences of fucking his best friend and facing the feelings that would come after. You’re only halfway down the alleyway before a warm, rough hand is slapped against your mouth and an arm is draped around your middle and tugging you backwards. A wall of muscle meets you and you whimper loudly behind the hand, starting to yell.
“Shh, shh, no screamin’,” the voice coos, distinctly recognizable. Shit.
“Tryna sneak off on me, huh, pretty girl?” Joel says next to your ear, his neck craning down to breathe you in, groaning. It’s so feminine, so light and soft, the faded scent of your perfume and body wash makes him instantly mad with need for you. His hand slips down, giving your lips some room to answer now that you’ve stopped fighting him, leaning back into his hold a little more.
“N-no,” you choke out, lying. “S-swear.”
“Didn’t change your mind? Want me to send those pretty pictures to your daddy?” Joel coos, starting to walk you towards the brick wall of the building, pushing your body forwards until you’re pressed against the cool, scratchy surface. You hold back a moan when his body leans into you fully, completely dominating you as you’re at his mercy against the wall.
“I j-just d-don’t think we should -” you utter half heartedly, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, fearing what might come next after your suggestion.
“Why’s that?” he asks, dripping with condescension. “Seemed you couldn’t wait to get stuffed full of me not too long ago, yeah?”
“I-it’ll be weird after, w-won’t it? How can we… be around my dad? How can you?” You finally find your voice, your bravery, to ask him the question you’d been thinking the entire night.
A small chuckle blows past the side of your head from where Joel’s mouth sits against your head. “Think we both learned tonight I’m willin’ to keep a secret,” he says, his voice getting more harsh, a needy coarseness to it that sends goosebumps along your skin.  Joel feels a frenzy overcoming him when he notices your thighs clenching, how shallow and wanting your breaths are becoming now. He can’t wait much longer… can’t stand the torture he’s endured at your sweet teasing for a second longer.
“I-I want it…” you finally say in a harsh whisper, your resolve faded within seconds. Your ass ruts back into his hardness, an ache that hadn’t subsided in the least in the last hours as he waited for you. Patiently. Like he had already been all of these months. 
“You know I’m gonna ruin anyone else f’you, darlin’, don’t you?” he asks as his lips trace along your shoulder, now clad in a tank top that you’d changed back into. The bits of bare skin he touches taste like heaven, feel almost unbearably soft and inviting against his plush lips. He couldn’t possibly deserve any of this, but he couldn’t help but take it, anyhow. He could pay for his sins later. Your neck is next on his list, another supple spot of heaven to taste as he mutters the words again. “Don’t you?”
You just nod at first, dumbstruck by the feel of his lips, turning your head to try to meet them. “Yes,” you tell him softly, knowing it’s the truth, and there isn’t a turning back from this moment anymore. His lips are suddenly all there is, devouring your own whole as he takes in bounds, your tongues and teeth and mouths in a desperate clash, panting into one another as Joel starts to tug at your jeans, fingers flying desperately to tear them down.
You let him.
The second he’s pushing into you, you see bright white flash across your vision - that pulse of pain shooting through the very fabric of your being, your nerves lit up and screaming out from deep inside of you. Joel’s groan is barely audible through the ringing in your ears as he doesn’t stop, finding solace in your tight heat when he pushes himself into you in full. It’s heaven incarnate, you are heaven incarnate, he thinks, practically panting out the words as he feels your wet tightness pulling him in, walls pulsing as you adjust to the sheer volume that is Joel. Your cheek is crushed against the brick, mouth propped open in shock, the rough scrape on your face the only thing keeping you grounded as you whine out a long, wanton sound, something completely foreign to you.
“So… fuckin’... dumb on this cock,” Joel utters as he starts to move, a slow drag of his cock out and back in before he makes good on his promise to ruin anyone else for you, to never have a comparison to the blinding pleasure you feel rocking your entire universe as he quickly ruts into you. “Fuckin’ heaven.”
“J- fuck -” you stutter out, completely speechless. When one arm wraps around you, finding your clit, needy and puffy from hours of torturous edging, everything else melts away. The dark alley, the fact that you could be seen at any moment, the way you weren’t even sure you trusted Joel to keep your secret despite you following through on your end - none of it fucking mattered anymore.
“W-wanted this so bad, y’don’t know what you do to a man, sweetheart… Jesus fuck,” Joel says, uncharacteristically soft as his hips roll, sending your own bouncing onto his hurried fingers swirling along your clit. Desperation clings to the both of you now, hot and heavy air, hurried movements like this could be torn away from the two of you any second.
“Joel… I’m fu- I’m close, so close, please…” you rush out, feeling a pull of warmth at your center, his cock brushing along just the right spot to send you to that edge. You start to moan louder, the noise echoing in the open space around the two of you, your hand hurriedly slapping over your mouth to muffle it as the high starts to rock through you. His name screams from behind your hand, the sound still clear enough to send Joel to a state of crazed fervor, thrusting into you at an impossible pace, sending you bouncing harder against the wall. You twitch and shake, your eyes rolling back as you come harder than you have in months, maybe ever. Just like he’d promised, the absolute bastard.
“Fuckin’ creamin’ on this cock, shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” Joel marvels breathlessly as the obscene squelching of your bodies meeting only gets louder. “Oh, good girl, such a pretty, messy slut for a dirty old man, aren’t you?”
“G-god, yes, fuck… I am…” you whimper out with flustered nods, completely spent as you come down from your high, letting Joel use your cunt to chase his own now. You twitch at the overstimulation, your body still tingling pleasantly as he turns you into his own personal fuck toy, your body his for the taking. 
“Pretty as a picture, all fucked out like this,” he says slyly one hand planted on the wall next to you now, the other playing lazily with your aching clit. “Never gonna be able to give me up now, are you?”
You shake your head, lost in the moment with your answers as you feel another orgasm washing over you, less intense but still pleasant waves of pleasure rolling through while you gasp for breath, completely full of Joel each time he thrusts heartily into you, stealing away your air. 
“Please… c-can’t…” you mumble through your climax, hardly able to take the stimulation anymore but knowing the sick little part of your brain is happy to do it for him, let him use you until he’s completely spent himself. 
You don’t have to wait much longer for your wish, hearing Joel grunting, almost whimpering when he’s suddenly gone from you with a wet, slick pop, leaving you cavernous empty. He barely makes it out of you before his hand grips his cock, twitching in his palm as he comes towards the ground right in between your legs, ropes of cum coating your pulled down jeans and underwear, the brick wall, the pavement below you. His forehead is pressed to your back, sticky and hot as he catches his breath for a silent beat.
You’ve never felt anything like this, this satisfaction, this pure unadulterated filthiness and pleasure. The addiction already grips you, your poor, sore cunt already anticipating the next time he could ruin you. 
But then it hits you like a train, pulling you out of your reverent little bubble - this can’t happen again. It’s out of your system, out of his, and now you both have a secret to keep. You start to pull your pants up, the movement seeming to bring Joel to his senses, reaching down along with you. 
“Sh-shit, here, let me,” he says in a rasp, tugging your jeans up, the immediate feeling of wetness sticking to your body and making you cringe. “Little souvenir for ya,” he comments cockily, knowing his cum is now sticking to your skin, knowing that thought will sustain him for at least the next few hours. But that’s wishful thinking, he realizes, knowing that he could find himself buried in you the entire night, over and over again, considering hauling you away to do just that when you interrupt his thinking. 
“I- I’m sorry…” you mutter, not even fully sure of why you even say it. For some reason, you are sorry that you put the two of you in this position, even if it ended in something so incredible that you have a hard time even putting it into words. 
Joel spins you to face him, thumbing your chin and pinching it, bringing your face to look him in the eyes. They look a little softer than they had inside the club, more like the neighbor you’ve come to know. So charming and disarming when he wants to be. 
“Don’t be,” he says, leaning down to kiss you more gently than he had before, something tender and sweet that you find yourself immediately falling for, body melting into his as you hang your arms around his neck, wondering when along the way you started feeling so comfortable with this.
“Besides,” Joel adds, a devious smirk pulling his lips upwards. “Your daddy ain’t home for a few more days. Think we can find a few more ways to convince me to keep your little secret.”
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roosterforme · 4 months
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 9 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley never felt like this before in his life. As soon as he spent a few minutes in your presence, he needed to keep coming back for more. Your touch and your voice were already making this homecoming something he was hoping to repeat, and he decided to keep pressing his luck.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley getting handsy
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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Bradley promised he would pick you up in an hour. That gave you essentially no time to get yourself ready to go out. At least you didn't have those typical first date jitters, because you and he had already taken the time to slowly get to know each other over the past few months. All of the emails from him that you'd archived into their own folder in your inbox felt precious now that he was home. Now that he surprised you at work. Knowing what he felt like and seeing the way he moved in person seemed to be the only missing pieces, and now everything fit perfectly in your mind when it came to Bradley Bradshaw. 
While you weren't nervous about getting to know someone new, you were a little antsy about trying to make yourself look as nice as you could in an hour. After you'd worked all day. For your first date with a man you already couldn't get enough of. He reminded you that he wanted to take you to the beach, as if you could forget the splendid details he'd divulged over the phone a month ago.
He told you he was going to wear jeans, nothing fancy, but when you looked in your closet, everything seemed tragically terrible. You could practically feel time ticking away as you yanked a simple sundress from its hanger and pulled it on over your cute underwear set. Not that he was going to see that tonight, but it made you feel good regardless. It also made your skin feel flushed as you thought about the photo you'd sent him where you'd gone topless under your bedding, and you squeaked when you heard knocking on your door. 
When you pulled it open, he was there, like a dream. Earlier in your classroom, when he interacted with your students, it felt like you had imagined the whole thing. But nothing felt as real as the warmth in his voice when he softly said, "Hey, Gorgeous," as he filled your doorway with his broad shoulders.
"Hi, Handsome," you replied, even as he leaned in closer until your lips were met with a kiss as sweet as the ones he treated you to earlier. He seemed to be taking your desire to be kissed as soon as he saw you to heart. Either that or he just couldn't help himself, and you were more than okay with either scenario. 
Your fingers ghosted along the buttons of the loud tropical print shirt he was wearing. The fabric was soft as he deepened the kiss enough to let you feel his rough mustache against your skin before pulling away. All of the teasing kisses from a few hours ago made you want to pull him inside toward your couch, but he was already reaching for your hand.
He looked a little tired, and once again you got butterflies knowing he wanted to spend his first evening home from a very long deployment with you. As he smiled and wrapped his big hand around yours, he asked, "You ready for me to show you why deleting that dating app was the best decision you'll make all year?"
Your lips parted in soft surprise at his confidence and his little smirk. Granted, so far, he had no reason to behave otherwise. You let him guide you outside, and you locked your door as you said, "I thought getting my students to send mail to a deployed Naval aviator was my best decision?"
He hummed softly. "Seems as though you can do no wrong."
It was like floating on a cloud, having his attention and gaze fixed on you. How in the world this man wasn't already locked down was mystifying. As his rough thumb trailed back and forth across your knuckles, the butterflies started up again in a big way. It was actually happening. The first date that you'd been daydreaming about on repeat was here. He was following through with it, and now you were expected to act normal.
When he unlocked the door and helped you climb up into his insanely cool truck, he said, "It looks like you can't stop smiling, which is great, because it's a beautiful smile."
You laughed softly and covered your eyes before groaning softly. "I'm just still kind of in shock." You peeked at him from between your fingers. "When I woke up this morning, I was convinced something terrible had happened to you... or that you ghosted me."
Bradley looked truly concerned as he coaxed your hands away from your face and said, "Baby, you thought I ghosted you?"
You gave him a little shrug and said, "The thought crossed my mind. I know you said sometimes they shut off communication from the aircraft carrier when-"
He silenced you with his lips on yours, cupping your cheek with his big hand before breaking away to say, "I've been thinking about you since I unfolded the first letter you sent. And I've been thinking about today since you gave me your personal email address. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm definitely not going to ghost you, Gorgeous." Just as you felt embarrassed for having admitted that much to him, he kissed you again and said, "I want to get you Thai food and take you to the beach. It only took me thirty-seven minutes to get here in traffic, and it should be even shorter now. Since we're going to be doing this drive with frequency, I want to learn the best times for it."
You made a soft sound as his thumb continued to stroke your cheek, and you nodded as you said, "Let's do it."
-----------------------------
Bradley laced his fingers with yours as he drove down along the coast back to Coronado. The time it took to get to your place was really no big deal to him, but he didn't want it to seem insurmountable to you. Traffic in San Diego could be a nightmare at times, especially in the evening, and he didn't want you to think he wasn't more than willing to do this. Especially after you thought he may have ghosted you. And especially since he was planning on asking you to be his girlfriend. 
You and your students got him through his deployment in a way nothing else ever quite had before. Your letters and emails were informative, funny and thoughtful, and you had this addictively subtle way of always letting him know he was on your mind. After months with Vanessa, all he got was a bad attitude, a partner who clearly wasn't invested, and an email about a water bottle. 
You were singing along to a song he happened to love when he chuckled to himself as he changed lanes. "What's so funny?" you asked, giving his hand a little squeeze. "My singing voice isn't that bad."
"Your singing voice isn't even slightly bad," he replied easily, glancing at your face in profile as you smiled. "I was just thinking about my ex-girlfriend."
"Oh," you said as your smile vanished, and your hold on his hand loosened. 
"Shit," he grunted. "Not like that," he promised, tugging on you gently while trying to focus on the road. "You and I had exchanged more emails halfway through my deployment than Vanessa and I did in seven months. And I'm hoping you'll keep emailing with me on occasion, even though we can text and talk on the phone right now, too. I associate my inbox with you now."
"Vanessa?" you asked, avoiding the rest of his statement. "Isn't that the name of Jayden's dog?"
Bradley nodded. "It sure is," he replied with a laugh. "One of the reasons I always liked his notes the best."
You were looking out your window now as the pretty coastline started to give way to a view of North Island across the bay. "I'll keep emailing you. How could I not? Texts and phone calls would be a bonus."
"I told you, you're going to get sick of me soon, Gorgeous. That's how many of my texts and phone calls you're about to be on the receiving end of." Bradley kissed your fingers as he turned to cross the bridge that led to Coronado, and he murmured, "Start thinking about what you want to eat for dinner. We're almost there."
He would erase all doubts about him from your mind. Your hand already felt like it belonged in his as you and he walked into the takeout restaurant while you listed off some of your Thai favorites. The two of you seemed to translate well from interacting through screens to physically being together, and the fact that he already wanted to put a label on this was a bit surprising to him. But there was still a lot he wanted to ask you about and tell you first, which was proving difficult when you looked up at him with bright eyes as a beautiful smile. He practically blurted out the world girlfriend as you told him you couldn't decide what you wanted to eat.
"What are you getting?" you asked. "I'm torn between Pad Thai, Yellow Curry and Tom Yum Goong."
"Let's get all three," he replied before kissing you. 
When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed as you asked, "All three? I can only finish one."
"Yeah, we can share them," he whispered, kissing you softly again. "My appetite is huge." When the person who was working at the counter had to clear their throat to keep Bradley from pulling you closer to his body like he had earlier in your classroom, he begrudgingly ordered not three, but four entrees while you laughed. 
"You weren't kidding," you mused as he paid for dinner.
"Listen," he told you as he put his credit card away. "There are three things I'm never going to joke about. Food is the first one. My mom always made me clean my plate, and I never outgrew that. If I'm willing to eat two servings of dinner from an aircraft carrier mess hall, then I'm probably going to eat at least that much if it's food that actually tastes good. And second, if I say there's a spider and that I need you to come quick, there is absolutely a spider that I need you to take care of for me." You laughed and bit your lip as he said, "And third, I'm never going to joke about how attracted I am to everything about you."
Bradley tried his best not to cause a scene in the small restaurant, but when you ran your fingers along the scars on his face and up into his hair, his hands found their way to your hips, and your body was snug against his. He didn't say another word, and you didn't either. Neither of you moved any closer for a kiss. You just brushed your fingers gently through his hair, occasionally tugging a little bit, and he thought he could lose his mind this way. With you smiling softly at him, silently and unknowingly showing him that your touch was uniquely something he'd been craving for so long.
"I'll take care of the spiders for you. Don't worry," you told him as you grinned.
"Baby, that's like dirty talk," he replied, his words making him think of that one photo you sent to him of you in bed. You dipped your head, trying to hide from him as you laughed, and he leaned in to kiss your jaw just as his name was called. "You ready for dinner?" he mumbled, knowing he was about five minutes away from his stomach growling loudly even though standing here with you was one of the nicest feelings in his recent memory.
"Let's get you fed," you told him, patting his firm stomach and accidentally snagging one of his belt loops with your finger. He had to bite the inside of his cheek against the growing need he felt for you as you reached out to grab the bag of food, and he followed you back out to his Bronco like a lost puppy.
----------------------------
After some debate about where you wanted to sit since the wind was starting to pick up, you chose a blanket on the sand over the back of his Bronco. You honestly weren't sure Bradley could even fit back there comfortably with you. He was so tall and broad, and his legs were so long, you'd practically have to be on top of him so he'd have room. Your mind wandered to the idea of him spilling off of his couch while you snuggled with him, and you could feel the warmth rising in your face as he helped you down onto the sandy asphalt of the parking lot.
With your hand in his, Bradley led you around to the back door where he pulled out a picnic blanket and a cooler. The wind picked up and you shivered a bit, wondering if he would let you curl up against his warm chest and his tropical shirt. 
"I brought this just in case," he told you, turning to reach back inside and grab a well worn, gray sweatshirt that said TOP GUN across the front. He held it up, and you nodded, and then Bradley pulled it over your head for you, his fingers skimming down your sides as you pushed your arms through the sleeves.
"Thanks," you murmured as the oversized garment kind of swallowed you up. It was so soft over your sundress, you couldn't imagine ever wanting to take it off. And the look Bradley was giving you as you stood before him in it warmed you up as much as the shirt itself.
"I like the way that looks," he said, voice a little raspy as the wind pushed at his wavy hair.
"Bradley."
He shook his head, brown eyes fixed on you. "And I like the way that sounds."
You didn't need to eat anything. You could be sustained on making out in the backseat. You thought about telling him as much when he groaned softly, handed you the beach blanket and picked up everything else. "If we don't get settled, we'll miss the sunset, and the food will be cold."
He pressed one hot and heavy kiss to your lips before nudging the door shut with his hip, and you scampered after his long-legged gait to catch up with him. When he asked you to pick a spot for the blanket, you spread it out near some tall dune grass, away from some of the other couples who seemed to have been lured out by the promise of a pretty sunset. And just as you predicted, Bradley sprawled himself out and took up most of the space, leaving you sitting right at his side.
You helped him open up the containers of food and the disposable utensils, and then you watched him reach into the cooler and hold up a bottle of Prosecco and a bottle of a local craft beer. You pointed to the Prosecco, and he opened it for you as you said, "I know you told me you don't have much family, but you mentioned your mom? And how she always made you clean your plate?" You couldn't help but be curious, especially since you'd already told him a bit about your own family through email.
"Yeah," he replied evenly as you took a sip of Prosecco right from the bottle when he didn't hand you a cup. It was sweet and cold, but you almost choked on it when he said, "She died years ago. So did my old man. He was in the Navy, too."
"Bradley," you gasped, sloshing some of the wine onto your fingers as you tried not to drop the bottle. "I'm so sorry." He just shrugged and waved you off, but you ended up with your arms around his neck and the cold bottle pressed to his back as you whispered, "Is that why you didn't really have anyone writing to you other than me and my class?"
His big hand found your lower back through the sweatshirt. "Baby, the only other person who ever writes to me is my best friend, and even that is pretty sporadic."
You pulled away a little bit to meet his eyes as you asked, "What about Vanessa? The human, not the dog."
Bradley laughed and said, "The dog would make a better pen pal than the human. Probably be nicer to me, too."
You were completely taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He kissed your cheek before getting you settled at his side again, and you watched him scoop some noodles onto his fork. "Means she's not like you. And I'm going to try my best to prove that I'm not like your ex boyfriend who didn't like it when you talked about your job. Shouldn't be hard since I already think your kids are so cool, and I probably read at about a fourth grade level."
"Bradley," you balked as you laughed that he remembered what you told him about your ex, but he was already holding the food out to you.
"Try this and tell me what you think." You took the fork from his hand, tasted the dinner and moaned in appreciation. "It's pretty great, right?"
"Oh my goodness," you told him, digging the fork into the container for more. "It's even better than the place by my school."
You tried the curry next as the sun just about hit the horizon, and Bradley casually said, "We can do this all the time. Or I can surprise you with dinner after work."
"It's not a surprise if you tell me that," you told him before taking another sip of the wine.
"You don't like surprises," he said with a smile, and you realized for the second time tonight that he probably remembered everything you ever told him. The butterflies were back in full force as you and he chatted while you shared the meal. It wasn't like a first date at all. It was like some highly romantic reunion where he kissed you with a bit more frequency as the food containers ended up empty and the sky turned purple.
He was so warm as you snuggled up against his chest with your head on his shoulder. As the first few stars appeared in the clear sky, his big hand came to rest on your thigh, his fingers dipping inside the hem of your dress as the breeze made you cuddle even closer to him. "Was your last mission dangerous?" you asked, remembering how apprehensive he looked and sounded over the FaceTime call.
When he didn't respond right away, you thought perhaps he didn't hear you, but he squeezed your thigh and cleared his throat. "All of them are, Gorgeous."
Your heart clenched. You had him here with you after months of wishing and dreaming. You didn't want to seem pushy by asking, but you couldn't help yourself. "I never thought about what it would be like to... be with someone who deploys for work. Not until we started talking. But now I think about it a lot." His soft grunt next to your ear had you quickly asking, "Is that what it would be like? Always worrying if you're okay? Always wondering if you miss me as much as I miss you?"
He took your breath away as he kissed you, parting your lips with his and tasting your tongue. His lips were sweet from the wine, and his nose bumped yours as his big hand slid around to the back of your thigh. All you could do was hold onto him as he treated you to kiss after toe-curling kiss. You shamelessly moaned his name when he finally let you take a breath, but then he was right back on you. Your fingernails scraped softly along his faded scars before digging into his hair, and he broke the kiss and held you to him.
"You would never have to worry about the last bit. I would make sure of that. But yeah, Baby, the rest of it would kind of suck."
The only thing you could say was, "Bradley," as his eyes searched your face in the darkening evening light.
"I would have been miserable," he whispered. "If you never sent that first package, I would have had nothing to look forward to each day and nothing I was excited to come back to San Diego for." His voice was impossibly deep and alluring as he said, "I thought about that a lot. What if you never sent it? Or what if someone else got it instead of me? What if I didn't somehow manage to earn your attention? I don't like thinking about that. And I don't like the idea of you worrying about me even though, at the same time, it feels really fucking good knowing that you would."
You were melting. You were going to turn into a puddle for this man. This lonely man who had an ex who hadn't been nice to him and never emailed him enough. This man who cleared his calendar today to bring you flowers and visit your kids as soon as he got off of the aircraft carrier. You wanted to say so much as you pushed gently on his shoulders, and Bradley slowly leaned back until he was laying flat with you on top of him.
"Gorgeous," he crooned in the moonlight with the sound of the ocean behind you and his big hands on your thighs. 
You pushed his hair back from his forehead and whispered, "You just got back today, and you gave all of your time to me."
His cheek was warm and rough with some stubble as your lips found his scars. You kissed them just like you told him you wanted to as he said, "It was just me being selfish. I wanted to be around you so badly. I'm already dying for more. Please go out with me again tomorrow?"
It took you all of a split second to agree. And maybe you were being selfish too, but you weren't prepared for the way your heart was racing in time with the butterflies. And how warm his big hands were as they inched up your legs while you tasted his tongue. And how much you knew you were going to want him to stay when it was time to say goodnight.
---------------------------
Your hands were all over his face and shoulders and in his hair, and Bradley was nothing short of delighted by this. Your lips drifted from his mouth down to his chin, and he had to try very hard to focus as they grazed his Adam's apple. He had your apartment keys in his hand, with which he was also squeezing your hip though his sweatshirt. It felt serendipitous that he was the one who got your letters, especially since he went from halfway in love with you to most of the way there after one day in your presence.
"Baby, you need to go inside," he warned, but something in his tone of voice just had you clinging tighter to him. "I need you to go inside."
You broke free from where your lips ended up on the side of his neck, and you whined. "I know, Bradley."
"God," he rasped, releasing you completely and taking a step back. "Say it one more time."
You unlocked your door, turned to look at him over your shoulder, and your kiss-swollen lips curled into one of those simply gorgeous smiles that earned you your nickname. "Bradley."
It sounded so fucking good. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered. "Lock the door behind you."
You did as you were told with one more little smile just for him, and then he was left standing there alone, trying to catch his breath while he got his phone out and worked on taking date number two from daydream to reality.
-------------------------------
Why is he like this? They are going to get even more handsy on their second date, and I can't handle it. And he can't even go more than a day without seeing her? He needs to be locked away. Thanks for reading! And thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
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949 notes · View notes
paimonial-rage · 4 months
Text
unraveled - alhaitham
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synopsis: after hearing a rather interesting rumor about your boss, how could you give up the chance to test its validity?
ship: alhaitham x reader
notes: 4.8k, prompt given by @milkstore more than a year ago lol
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You heard something extremely interesting the other day while walking around the Akademiya. Now let it be said you were never one for gossip. Not that you viewed yourself as above gossip or anything; it just rarely had anything to do with you. This recent tidbit that drifted into your listening ears, though, it had you stopping cold in the middle of the morning Akademiya rush. It was shocking. It was discombobulating. It was absolutely world-shaking! Alhaitham, your boss…
… was apparently interested in someone.
You were used to hearing many rumors about Alhaitham—how he was planning to change Akademiya hours to a strict 9-5 schedule, how he destroyed the self-esteem of toddlers for fun, how he was secretly raised by Inazuman Rifthound Wolves with the blood of the abyss flowing through his veins—but those were easy to ignore. As his secretary, you were privy to his plans and personal information. You knew what was true and false (not including toddler thing—that was up in the air). However, Alhaitham interested in someone? Now that was interesting.
Your first reaction was to dismiss the rumor. Your boss followed a strict schedule that didn’t leave much room for other activities. That wasn’t even mentioning the sheer number of people that filed complaints regarding his tongue. Sad to say, he didn’t get along with most people. 
And, while you’ve never been in a relationship with someone before, you’ve seen how others acted. They became sweet to their lover, engaged in much physical contact, noticed them even in most crowded of rooms, and spoiled them rotten. Could you imagine Alhaitham doing such things? You most absolutely positively could not. 
But when you thought about it more, it was often said that love changed people. Even the grouchiest of grumps could turn into the softest of softies, right? It was a possibility. Added to that, he made it a point to leave when his time for the day was up. He had a decent amount of time after work to woo and court to his heart’s content. Yes, as you contemplated it all, you came to a set conclusion.
Your curiosity was piqued.
So, let it be made known now that you knew it was wrong to do so. You knew that if you got caught, you’d get sent straight to the scary General Mahamatra. But you had a duty and it was this duty you would uphold. You were an alumnus of the Akademiya and you would follow in the footsteps of your predecessors. Desperate times called for desperate measures, as they said, and desperate measures called for engaging in a long-supported research method. 
Stalking Observation. 
It was a brilliant plan, perhaps one of your smartest. If the Acting Grand Sage was interested in someone as rumors implied, observation would be the best method to discover the truth. To ensure your plans would go off without a hitch, you slammed through your work for the day. You even skipped out on Shawarma Wrap special hour at Lambad’s Tavern. Sure, your stomach may had been causing a ruckus, but such sacrifices were necessary. Today you would find the truth!
You were ready the moment 5pm hit. Your work was done, you were in civilian clothes and clocked out for the day. He didn’t even notice you weren’t seated at your desk when he walked by toward the exit! Judging from how everything was going so far, it seemed that your mission would be far easier than you thought! 
And it was! In fact, it was rather boring! His first visit was to the House of Daena. You hoped he would be there to meet someone, but he instead made a beeline for the new book section. After glancing over a few here and there, he picked out a few, checked them out with the librarian, then left. They weren’t interesting books either. As you peeked out from under a desk, you could catch a glimpse of the cover of one of the books about Inazuma. It was written by “Hat Guy.”
Hm.
Anyway, your heart pounded in excitement when he began heading in the direction of the Grand Bazaar next. You heard he recently became acquainted with a dancer from the Zubayr Theater. Perhaps the secret lover was her? But he disappointed you once more. He spent a total amount of five minutes glancing over stalls, looking at some ugly pieces of furniture, before quickly departing once a crowd of people began filing in for a show. 
As you followed him to your next destination, your initial reaction to this whole debacle started to become more and more plausible. It seemed all that was on his mind was errands, nothing more and nothing less. If anything was strange, though, it was how you didn’t seem to be disappointed by the turn of events. 
Though it was clear Alhaitham didn’t get along with most people, you personally liked him quite a lot. When you first came to the Akademiya from Mondstadt, you had a difficult time. You weren’t sure why at the time, but you tended to annoy people. No matter how friendly you tried to be, they sneered even more. It wasn’t until an explosive confrontation that you learned why. They saw you as disruptive and nosy. You lacked any pride. You were too idealistic. 
You weren’t like them.
You spent much of your time to yourself after that. You didn’t know how to act. You didn’t want to do anything wrong. Despite its warmer climate, Sumeru somehow felt colder than the winters of your homeland. 
You first met Alhaitham on a joint project. As usual, you kept to yourself through much of it. Being the only member of your darshan there, you knew you should have brought up your points of concern, but fear held you back. And sure enough, the project ended up heading in a direction that would inevitably hit the roadblock you predicted. You would’ve kept quiet had Alhaitham not spoken up.
“Are you planning on contributing anything worthwhile to this project?”
His words came so out of the blue you could only splutter in response, “Excuse me?”
“I recommended you for this project because I thought your research papers showed complex reasoning and a thorough work ethic. However, it seems I was mistaken. Not only have you not offered anything useful, but you insist on keeping quiet despite your knowledge of possible issues. So I ask you again. Are you or are you not going to contribute anything worthwhile?”
There were so many things you could’ve said, so many things you should’ve felt. It wasn’t like you weren’t doing anything! You fulfilled your set duties for the project. But despite your work, you were being labeled by him as essentially useless. The only logical response was to feel upset, even anger. But instead, a hesitant warmth filled your chest instead.
“Wait. You recommended me?”
Though his expression didn’t change, somehow you could see he was judging the strength of your intellect.
“Your studies relate to this project directly. Why wouldn’t I?”
You floundered, gesturing wildly for a few moments before finally getting out, “But nobody likes me!”
He simply stared at you deadpan, communicating through body language alone, “That is my problem how?”
“Are you sure you want me to speak up? You won’t get upset?”
He sighed.
“You were brought onto this project for your expertise. If anything, I would be upset if you did anything but that."
His words were astounding. They were game-changing. They were earth-shattering! In his eyes, you were not an outsider from Mondstadt. You were a scholar, and it would only be your merits upon which you would be judged. 
You knew he didn’t exactly like it, but you found yourself sticking around him even after the project was successfully completed. With everything you dealt with at the Akademiya, Alhaitham was like a breath of fresh air. Sure, he did tend to point out the fallacies in your logic and personal flaws that would get in the way of achieving your goals, but that really was it. It wasn’t like he was ever wrong either, so you didn’t mind. At least you weren’t getting criticized merely for existing. 
As for how he felt about you, you really weren’t sure. He wasn’t exactly the most expressive person in the world, nor the most feelsy either. Really, he could probably be replaced by a Rishboland Leopard and you doubted there would be much difference.
Still, if there was anything you did know, it was that he never pushed you away without reason. Even when his nose was buried in a book during his free time, he had no qualms letting you ramble to your heart’s delight. And when you finished, he would respond with his own thoughts, always surprising you with the fact that he was listening all along. 
There also was the fact he requested you personally as a secretary when he was forced into the role of Acting Grand Sage. Sure, working at the Akademiya after graduation in administration made it easier for you both to keep in touch, but you didn’t think he still kept tabs on your work ethic. So maybe, just maybe, the feelings he felt toward you were higher than simple toleration. And you were content with that. 
So lost you were in your musings that you almost didn’t catch him turn onto Treasures Street. You nearly bumped into a few people while correcting your course. But he didn’t head in the direction of his home like you assumed, however. Instead, it seemed he was making his way to Menakeri's Treasure Shop. Which was rather strange. That shop had been out of stock for the past year. Unless he was planning on reserving something with Khalid? 
Upon peeking inside, it seemed he was examining quills and fountain pens. You nearly gasped audibly. Was he perhaps finally listening to your advice and purchasing himself new writing utensils? You didn’t know how many times you nagged him about those terrible ParchmentMate quills that anyone could buy in bulk. They didn’t give a consistent line, were prone to getting clogged, and were all around cheap garbage! It was about time he got himself something fitting of his position. 
But… Wait, was he…? It was the moment he hummed in thought and picked up a particular brand that you found yourself called to action. 
“Just because Zilot H2 fountain pens are popular doesn’t mean they’re actually good!” You exclaimed, rushing over and plucking the abomination from his fingers. “Even when you’re right-handed, they still tend to smear like crazy! Also, the quality is not consistent throughout the pens, so you can get some that clog constantly!!”
You were quick to plop the pen right back where it belonged on the display. Such a monstrosity would have no place in your boss’ office. No way. It was a good thing Alhaitham was essentially a lazy person who despised putting up with inconveniences because arguing with him was the last thing you wanted to do today. And thankfully, he did not disappoint!
“I see, then which pen would you recommend?” He asked with his fingers against his chin in thought. 
Oooh~ At the sound of that beautiful question, your heart quickened within your chest as a rosy flush found its way to the apples of your cheeks. He’d always wave you away whenever you brought up this subject before (probably because he knew very well you could ramble about the glory of stationery for a good hour), so what changed his mind? Well, who cared what did! You weren’t about to squander this chance he so graciously gave you!
“Well, there are many great fountain pens and quills. Monstadt is Teyvat’s biggest producer of high-quality pens, though Inazuma and Liyue have some notable brands too. I’d recommend…” You hummed as you scanned the display before plucking two that caught your eye. “A KWSBY Eco or a KAMY Safari.”
“And the difference between the two?” He asked as he stepped close to you.
Though the fact that you could feel the warmth he radiated against your arm and his gaze upon your face was distracting, the excitement within your chest overpowered any presence he had. 
“Well, while they both write very well, the Eco holds more ink and, in my opinion, requires less maintenance. It’s more eco-friendly as well because it doesn’t take cartridges. But I’d say the Safari feels better in the hand and requires less pressure, so it’s less straining to write for long periods of time.”
“Then which one would you recommend?”
You tilted your head to the side. That was a good question.
“Well, personally, I would recommend the Eco. While you do write a lot, I think the hassle of replacing cartridges and going out to buy new ones is something you’d find annoying after a while. However, both are rather cheap, so it wouldn’t be much out of your pocket to purchase both to see which one you like more. Then you could use the other as a backup pen, or maybe one to keep at home.”
He hummed. 
“I see. And why were you following me this whole evening?”
Well, that was the easiest question he asked by far!
“Because I heard rumors about you and I wanted to see if they were true!” You exclaimed with a wide smile on your face. 
Wait, that question wasn’t about pens at all… In fact, that was… You paused and realized something for the first time. Alhaitham was looking at you. Like… he knew and was cognizant of the fact that you were standing in front of him. Which meant… 
“You used those pens to lure me out, didn’t you!?” You cried out in betrayal. 
He shrugged.
“It’s not my fault you’re easily baited with stationery.”
You groaned in frustration. He wasn’t wrong about that. Anyone that knew you knew quite well how much you enjoyed talking. Blame it on your Mondstadt blood, but you were too talkative for your own good. Often times you’d surprise people by making conversation in long lines or when their pretty outfits caught your eye. More than that, you loved helping people and giving advice, even when you weren’t exactly needed. Really, it was a smart move on Alhaitham’s part.
“So, what is it this time?” He asked with a cross of his arms and a raised brow. “It’s not the rifthound wolves rumor again, is it?”
You shook your head. 
“Of course not. You know you were there when I checked that one,” You exclaimed with a roll of your eyes. “This rumor is way better than that one. They say that you’re courting someone.” 
He sighed.
“And you believed that?”
You shook your head once more. 
“Well, no. But rumors like that don’t come out of the blue. So I thought there had to be some truth to them. Maybe you’re interested in someone.”
“Oh? And it bothered you enough to follow me after hours?”
You laughed.
“Well yeah. Who wouldn’t want to see the sarcastic and straight-laced Alhaitham getting starry-eyed over a special someone?” You replied with a shrug.
His eyes shut, shaking his head in exasperation.
“And how exactly would my getting ‘starry-eyed’ look?”
“Well obviously–”
Your stomach grumbled. Loudly. You winced. Apparently not eating lunch today was coming back with a vengeance. It seemed that your companion noticed the sound as well as his brow raised while glancing down at you.
“Did you eat yet?”
You coughed.
“No.”
He nodded in acknowledgment.
“Then you can tell me over dinner.”
Your heart jumped as a smile leapt to your lips. 
“Are you paying for dinner too?” You asked, your eyes glittering. 
His eyes narrowed as he placed a hand on his hip.
“If I’m not mistaken, the last time, I was the one that paid.”
You coughed once more.
“Th-That may be true,” you began with a stutter, “But… I’m not the one with the salary of a grand sage. Surely it wouldn’t be too much out of your wallet to pay for your overworked assistant?”
He stared at you, his eyes half-lidded in exasperation shutting them in unwilling acceptance.
“Fine.”
With a joyous fist pump, you rushed to follow him at his side as he began to make his way in the direction of the tavern.
“This is why you’re my favorite boss, Alhaitham!” You exclaimed with a grin causing him to snort.
“If I recall, just yesterday you were calling me the worst for excusing you when you sneezed.”
“That’s because right after, you gave me tips on how to sneeze quieter,” you shot back. “I can’t help the way I sneeze, you know. I was—excuse me—born that way. Besides, nobody in Mondstadt ever–”
Your brow furrowed as yet another person bumped into you. It seemed the true rush hour of Sumeru finally hit as the roads were covered with people. You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course, nobody was walking into Alhaitham. He seemed to have a two-foot forcefield around him. Not that you were surprised. Though you liked him, even you could admit that the vibes he exuded were not the most welcoming. 
But as you kept musing to yourself about Alhaitham and his unkind vibes, the more you found yourself getting pushed and shoved away from him. Thankfully, you knew the direction he was heading, so it wouldn’t be too hard to simply meet him there–
“They’re not going to move unless you make them.”
Your eyes widened as you felt a hand grasp yours. With a gentle tug, you found yourself pulled from the crowd. There Alhaitham stood with a brow up, daring you to argue. You pouted.
“You could’ve done that earlier.”
He shrugged.
“I was waiting to see if you’d do it yourself.”
“Well thanks, I guess,” you replied, rolling your eyes. Still, you squeezed his hand gently because you were, though a bit exasperated, also grateful. 
With him at the forefront to part the crowd, he led you by hand to Lambad’s Tavern. Despite being a busy night, it didn’t take too long for you both to be seated. After being guided to a square table, he took his normal place diagonally to your side instead of across from you. In the back of your mind, you assumed it was so that you were easier to hear, but there wasn’t any point to putting much thought into it than that. With your orders put in and a round of drinks on the table, you took a hearty swig from your glass before leaning back. 
“So here’s what I envision for an Alhaitham in love,” you began, eager to continue your conversation from before. “I…
Hm…
“I um…”
That was a good question. How would a starry-eyed Alhaitham look?
“Well, you see…”
Though you found yourself ready to wax poetic about a normal person in love, when you really thought about it, Alhaitham wasn’t the most normal person around. He didn’t laugh much, let alone smile. He was more mean than he was nice. That wasn’t even mentioning his sheer lack of friends. 
“Can’t think of anything?”
“No, that’s not it. I’m just realizing you wouldn’t act much different,” you began. “I think you would still treat them the same, but you’d always have an eye out for them. You may talk about them from time to time, maybe pay for their meals as well. I can see you wanting to be nearer to them than most people. You’d prefer their company more. Things like that.”
His head cocked to the side in thought.
“That doesn’t sound like I’d be very much in love with them at all.”
You shrugged.
“You don’t need to look in love to be in love, you know. It’s just that you wouldn’t be as obvious about it as most.”
It was then his turn to shrug.
“Really? I think most would say that I’m not capable of love.”
You snorted.
“Oh, come on,” you began with a humored grin. “We both know that’s not true. You’re a human just like anyone else. You’re one of the kindest people I know.”
“I know many people that would disagree with that.”
“And I would disagree with them. You don’t judge people. You see them for who they are. You always tell the truth, even if it may hurt. You don’t like it when people are troubled, so you give them words to help them change. Though you try to avoid company, you don’t hesitate to help the people you care about. You don’t abandon people in their time of need. You’re kind, Alhaitham.”
He took a sip of his drink.
“You make it seem like I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I merely don’t like being troubled by other people’s problems,” he replied with a shake of his head.
“Maybe,” you admitted with a shrug before giving him a knowing look. “But if you really hated it all that much, I think you would’ve gotten rid of some people in your life a long time ago.”
He turned away.
“I think you’re looking far too into it.”
“And I think you just feel exposed for being a softie,” you shot back with a laugh.
He didn’t speak after that, not that he needed to. You knew he knew there was no point in trying to argue. This was something you brought up multiple times in the past, much to his dismay. As much as he tried to ignore it, you saw him for how he really was. Which was why… 
You sighed.
“Do you really like someone though? Are the rumors true?” You asked nervously. 
“Was it that important to you that you had to follow me to find out if it was?” He questioned.
You shrugged. 
“Well, I mean I did want to see you get all starry-eyed, but… the thought of you having someone so important to you in your life and me not noticing a single thing bothered me. I mean you’re the person I spend the most time with. Can I even be called your friend if I didn’t notice something so big?” You asked, a bit dejected.
“Is that the only reason?”
When you frowned in confusion, he continued.
“You say it’s because you’re my friend. Are you sure it’s not for any reason more than that?”
As he spoke, his gaze did not waver from you. It was as if his eyes were piercing you through. It seemed as if he was searching for something, but what? Was there truly a reason more than that? You weren’t so sure. 
Before you could respond, your plates were set before you, prompting your stomach to let out another long and loud grumble. You flushed. Of course, your stomach had to interrupt such a serious moment. 
He sighed.
“Let’s eat.”
Really, you truly did mean to play around with his words in your head as you ate, but the moment the food touched your tongue, any and all thoughts were out the window. Lambad’s Shawarma Wraps were always top-notch. The flatbread was soft and warm and the sauce was tangy and fresh. Despite living here for the past few years, you still weren’t quite used to eating with your hands, but such problems never detracted from the taste. 
When you were almost done, you turned your gaze to your companion with stars in your eyes. 
“Do you want to share an Ajilenakh Cake with me?”
Though you knew he wasn’t one for sweet food, you didn’t know anyone who could resist the sweet nuttiness of Ajilenakh Cakes. They were warm and soft and the jam complimented the flavors wonderfully. 
“Sure,” he agreed with a shrug. 
And with an excited grin, you put in the order and went back to your food. In the back of your mind, you remembered the time Alhaitham mentioned he preferred meals with you. When you asked if it was because he enjoyed your company, he said that you were always so focused on eating that you barely had any time to speak. You hated how you always proved him true because once the dessert was placed before you, again any thoughts you had of continuing the conversation quickly came and left.
As you ate you mused it probably would be a good idea to go on a diet after this. Alhaitham barely had a fourth of the Ajilenakh Cakes, not that you were surprised. He wasn’t exactly one for sweets. But that meant you ate the rest, and with all the Shawarma Wraps you’ve been eating as well… it did not bode well for your waistline. 
“I don’t think it means anything. Me being bothered, I mean,” you finally announced as you wiped your lips clean. “I think any normal person would want to know what’s going on with one of their friends, you know? Besides, you say that me being bothered could mean something more. What more could it mean?”
He shrugged.
“It could mean that you’re interested in me and worried that I may have found someone else.”
You leaned back as you crossed your arms in thought. Well, when he put it like that, it certainly was a possibility. Perhaps you were afraid of being replaced by someone else. You enjoyed being at his side, after all. But that being said, being interested in him? It didn’t seem very likely.
“No, I don’t think so,” you replied. “I’ve never really thought of you in that way before.”
He sighed.
“Then that’s a shame.” When you asked why, he continued, “Because the rumors are true. The person I’m interested in, the person everyone is gossiping about, is you.”
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“And that’s what happened,” you finished as you sipped your wine. “Can you believe it? The source of the rumors, the one everyone was talking about, was me!”
“W-Wait. He literally told you that? He just went out with it!?” Kaveh exclaimed in disbelief. 
As Kaveh sat across from you, you wanted to laugh at the sheer look of confusion upon his face. He was utterly dumbfounded. Not that you could blame him. It was a rather crazy story, after all.
You nodded.
“Yep! I mean looking back, all of the signs were there. We spend a lot of time together for work, he likes sitting next to me at restaurants, sometimes he pays for me… He even holds my hand from time to time when the roads are packed! I don’t know how it took him explaining it to me to finally realize the truth!” 
And really, it was embarrassing on your part. Growing up, you’d love to while away the hours in the Knights of Favonius’ library reading mystery novels. Nothing was more exhilarating than getting the culprit correct. So really, this was something you should have figured out from the very start. But nevertheless, being given the answer to this mystery didn’t make the outcome any less exciting. It made you wonder if you should investigate more Akademiya rumors in your free time. It certainly would be fun.
However, a quick glance at Kaveh showed he wasn’t exactly sharing your thoughts. Instead, his face still held that same dumbfounded look from before, if not a bit more intense. 
“So what did you do? What did you say? Alhaitham didn’t seem any different when he came home! Oh Gods, and to think I scolded him that evening for leaving his books out! I really must’ve sounded like a jerk!!”
You frowned in thought. Was there something lost in the communication here? You didn’t see anything worth panicking over. 
“Well, after he told me that, I tried to argue with him, actually. Honestly, can you imagine me being the answer? That’s way too easy. But then he explained everything to me and eventually it made sense. After that, he paid for dinner and then we went home.”
His jaw dropped this time. 
“That’s it!? You went home?? After all that???”
You tilted your head to the right. 
“What do you mean? The mystery was solved. What more did we need to do?”
He dropped his head into his hands and pulled at his hair before them on the table.
“What do you mean!? Alhaitham confessed his feelings to you. And you just nodded and went home!? I can’t believe you’re making me feel bad for him! You really don’t think anything about it?”
Your head tilted this time to the left. Kaveh groaned.
“He likes you. Don’t you feel anything about that?”
Feel anything about him liking you? Him… liking you. He… liked you. 
Oh.
First your eyes widened, then your hands dropped to your lap, and then, with the fury of a thousand suns, you felt your face burn up. 
“I’m happy… I think?”
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nathaslosthershit · 4 months
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Tensions Fall (Teen Dad!Oscar AU)
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(part 2 to Tensions rise, also apart of this AU although these two fics can be read separately)
A/N: 7 weeks since the once happy couple have actually talked. 7 weeks since they shared a bed, but with their two toddlers starting camp for the first time, maybe they can try and mend their problems.
Warnings: Parental separation, a super mean mom like the ones I have to deal with at work, angst WITH A HAPPY ENDING
May 28, 2024
It had been 7 weeks since the fight in Suzuka that effectively ended Oscar and Honey’s relationship. It had been 7 weeks since Oscar had taken a leave of absence from racing in order to try and make amends with his family. He still trained everyday, he still worked with McLaren and did Sim Racing, he just never attended any of the Grand Prixs. 
It had also been 7 weeks since Honey and Oscar had shared a bed. 
Since that night she left their room, she had stayed in her kids’ hotel room till they got home. She then packed her things and moved into the guest bedroom. Things had been far from amicable between the two parents. In the beginning, Oscar had done all he could to try and make up with Honey but when she continued to give him the cold shoulder, he had given up and reciprocated her attitude. The children, about to turn 4 years old, didn’t know the full extent of what was happening at home. They knew that when they would go to their parents’ room in the morning, only Dad would be there, but this was easily explained away when Honey told them that Oscar snored too loudly and it kept her up at night.
They had of course also noticed how different their parents had acted towards each other, and how often their father was home now, but they just didn’t question it because at the end of the day, they were too young to begin to understand, and they still had two parents who loved them as much as they could.
Since the fight though, it was clear Oscar was making much more of an effort to take his kids out to do activities. At first it was nice, Honey got some time alone, something she rarely got anymore, but the more Oscar took over planning activities, the more she began to hate being alone. After three, almost four, years of being around her kids almost 24/7, the silence started to eat away at her. And in turn, her kids started to miss their mom more. 
Finally though, Honey had put her foot down, after a long conversation, ending in a fight, Oscar had agreed to more full family activities, even if it meant having to pretend with Honey that they were still the happy and perfect family. 
While their kids loved going to the park as a family, any parent around could see that the two parents watching their twins on the bench were fighting but trying so hard to conceal their whispered harsh words behind smiles. 
With the twins' fourth birthday coming up on June 8th, Oscar and Honey had been stressing on how they were going to plan their birthday while they couldn’t get through a conversation without being at each other's throats. They also had the kids’ first day of camp coming up May 29, a day that may seem insignificant to most parents, but as the kids had never been to preschool, nor a daycare, camp was their first introduction into that whole system. It was a big step for everyone.
Honey had been trying to prepare the kids the best she could for their first day at camp. She knew they didn't fully grasp the concept and she was nervous about leaving them alone, scared they would feel abandoned as child-care with non-familial adults wasn’t something they had experienced with their mother being a stay at home mom, only ever enlisting help from grandparents, cousins, and even ‘honorary uncles’ such as Logan and Lando. She had to keep telling herself that in the end, they will at least have each other. 
Oscar and Honey decided to make a day of it. Camp wasn’t until 9, so the pair took the very excited Hudson and Frances out to breakfast where the 3 year olds managed to cover themselves head to toe in maple syrup and chocolate from their pancakes, causing them to have to rush home to change, thus leading the family to a late arrival to the preschool building that the camp was held in. 
“We are so sorry, oh my goodness!” Honey said to one of the two teachers who were clearly waiting for them outside the door to the classroom.
“We decided to take these two to breakfast and they got more food on their clothes than they did in their mouths. Which reminds me, I added two extra changes of clothes to their bag in case they need it.” Oscar added, causing Honey to shoot him a glare that was luckily not seen by the younger of the teachers, as the younger teacher was too busy ogling at Oscar to notice. It was her that added the clothes to their bag, it was also her idea, he was being petty by taking credit.
After a few moments of silence as they waited for the woman’s reply, she managed to snap herself out of whatever daydream she was concocting only minutes after meeting the young father in front of her to reply with a quick, “No problem! We know how these kids can be.”
The older woman next to her clearly could sense her coworker was a little two focused on one of the parents and pointedly urged her to take their bags to their cubbies while she sorted the family out, which Honey was grateful for. She may have not been with Oscar anymore but that lady didn’t know it and had no right to eye fuck him in front of her and her children of all people. 
“Why don’t you all say goodbye out here, we are just about to start morning meeting with the other kids.” The older woman said as she stepped to the side to give the family privacy, thought she was close enough to hear all they would say.
Oscar and Honey both felt tears begin to form as they squatted down in front of their kids. 
“Alright, Mommy and Daddy have to go now, but you both are going to stay here and make some new friends. I know this is new and might be a little scary but if you guys get through today, we can all go get ice cream later. How does that sound?” Honey asked, nervous one of her kids was going to break down in tears at any moment. 
“Okay! Bye Mommy, bye Daddy!” Frances yelled as she ran through the open door to the classroom, clearly ready to get started.
Oscar and Honey weren’t necessarily shocked at what their very clearly extroverted daughter had just done, but they still had expected a little bit of pushback from her. They could see the older woman by the door laughing softly to herself at that interaction. 
Their son, Hudson, was less enthusiastic. He didn’t cry, which they had fully expected him to, but he gave them crushingly tight hugs, or as crushing as he could manage, and a quick kiss on the cheek before following after his sister.
Wiping away tears, they both stood up and laughed once they looked at each other's faces, realizing they were both far more of a mess than their kids.
“Wow, maybe we should have been giving ourselves pep talks for weeks instead of them” Oscar joked. Honey laughed, it was the first normal interaction they had had in what felt like forever. 
The older woman, still by the door, quickly joined in, “Oh don’t worry, we find parents are usually the ones with the most trouble at dropoff, but that moment they find you both after a day of camp or school, you will feel just how much they missed and love you. Plus you two are young, you’ve got plenty of more time to make more of those babies. You have grown yourself a real sweet family by the looks of it. Relax for a few hours! Enjoy the time off, maybe even add to your family.” The woman said, laughing, as she closed the door.
“Did she really just suggest we go make more babies?” Honey asked in disbelief.
“I think she did, yeah.” Oscar answered, just as confused as she was. 
The air felt light as they both walked to their car, relishing in how nice it was that they weren’t arguing, realizing how miserable they had been.
But that didn’t last long. 
“Come on, Oscar, you can’t be that dense! She was so clearly eye fucking you!” Honey argued. The conversation in the car had been light for a few minutes until Honey made a comment about the younger teacher and unintentionally started an argument.
“She was not! And if she was, who cares? We aren’t together anymore, you can’t get jealous over something as trivial as someone who thinks I am attractive. Sometime in the future I will get a partner so you better learn to stop being jealous.” Oscar yelled. He didn’t mean it of course, he knew even if he and Honey never got back together, he would remain single. She was the only one for him.
But what he had said, wording it in a way that made Honey fully think about their situation really tore her apart. Yes, they were separated, but she never felt like they were fully broken up. And from what he said, it sounded like he planned on moving on much faster than she ever would.
With tears rolling down her cheeks, she decided to not dignify his comments with a response. Once exiting the car, she swiftly went to the guest room she had been staying in since the separation and slammed the door.
After a few minutes in the car, Oscar had mustered up the courage to apologize, knowing what he did was uncouth. Hearing her cries as he walked up to her door made him stop just short of knocking, deciding maybe it was better to give her a bit of time for now and come up with a way to make it up later.
After two hours of contemplation, Oscar had decided to get a lunch reservation at her favorite restaurant that always had a live band playing. It was impossible to get a day of reservations but with a bit of bribing, he had managed to pull it off. What was also nice about the band was that they could sit and eat silently without any awkward silence. If they were going to fight, they didn’t need to speak. 
She wasn’t crying when he knocked on her door, having managed to seemingly get all her emotions out in the two hours by herself, then clean up to look presentable for pick up. But now she felt empty, like a shell of a person in a house with a man who once loved her to pieces but now seemed to despise her, and no kids because they were away at camp. 
“Come in.” Was all she said.
“I um, I got us a reservation to your favorite place. I understand if you aren’t up for going- or if you’d like to go alone, but I did kind of bribe them so one of us at least has to go, I fear.” Oscar muttered out fast, clearly sensing the awkward energy between them, not knowing whether they were going to ignore the fight or not.
But Honey’s heart burst at the idea of him trying so hard to get into her favorite place. She always urged him to use his name to get into places, like Lando loved to do, but he was always too humble to do it, so it meant even more that he had this time. 
“That… sounds wonderful. Thank you, Oscar.” Was all she said as she started to tear up again but quickly turned so he wouldn’t see. “Let me get my stuff and I can meet you in the car.”
The energy in the car wasn’t light like it was before, but it also wasn’t heavy. A comfortable silence stayed between the two until it got too much for Honey and she burst out into tears, seemingly unprompted. 
“Darling, what's wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Oscar asked, openly concerned for her well being for the first time in what felt like years.
“I c-can’t take it, Oscar! We used to have so much love for each other, god, you used to look at me like I hung the stars in the sky, now you can’t seem to look at me for more than a second without realizing how much you hate me now. Then after saying you are going to move on to someone else- you do this really sweet thing and I am- I am so confused and hurt and don’t know what to think or do!” Honey rambled, everything truly coming to the surface. Everything she thought, everything she felt, everything she had tried too hard to push down and pretend wasn’t there.
“Honey, I have never hated you for even a second,” was all Oscar was able to reply as he registered everything she had just said.
“What?”
“I don’t think I am capable of it. Truly. I have tried so hard to be the best I could be for you after the fight. I stopped racing, I planned more activities with the kids, but I couldn’t do anything right. I let rumors continue about you making me stop racing, which I wanted to stop but was told to leave alone. I took the kids to do activities and left you out too much. When you continued giving me the cold shoulder, I gave up when I should have kept fighting. I then tried to love you less, to make it hurt less, but I couldn’t, even if I acted like a dickhead to you. I am so sorry, Honey, and I would never in a million years be with someone else, even if you had an entire other family and were happily married. You are it for me, always have been, always will be.”
With all finally being said, the two went to lunch happier than they had been in weeks, ready to work on their relationship. It was surely not going to be easy, but how they had been these past two months had broken them enough that they were certainly willing to try. 
Near the end of the meal though, things once again got tense. These two couldn’t catch a break it seemed.
Zak Brown, CEO of McLaren, called Oscsar out of the blue and as the phone rang, Honey’s heart sank, awaiting Oscar’s reaction.
“Shit, I should get thi-” 
“It's okay. I promise.” Honey said, already feeling doubt beginning to creep in.
She couldn’t hear much of the conversation as Oscar quickly walked out the door to talk to Zak. He was also turned away from her so any chances of learning information by reading his facial expressions went out the window.
Finally, he returned to Honey biting her nails waiting for what he would say to her. She already started to panic thinking he could have to go to work, race again, and this vicious cycle would never end, that nothing would ever be right between them.
“What did he want?” She asked.
“Asked when I would be ready to come back to race. I said I didn’t have a date in mind. He told me to come in next week for a meeting on it, but I said I wouldn’t make a decision without talking to my family. I am not going to lose you all over this.” He reassured her. 
Honey smiled, doubt leaving as quickly as it had come. Until she herself got a phone call, this time from the camp her kids were at. Stressing that they had missed pick up, she realized after checking the clock that they still had an hour and a half. Confused once more, she answered the call.
Being told on your kids' first day away from you that there was an issue you needed to go deal with immediately, that you needed to fill out both incident and accident report forms wasn’t something that the young parents had envisioned for themselves. 
Rushing to the classroom, Oscar and Honey saw both of their kids crying in the hallway with the older teacher when they arrived, accompanied by another mother and her upset son. Concern laced their features as they took in both their kids, looking for any hints of injury on the two, but they seemed fine, apart from the crying.
“God, don’t tell me these two kids are the parents, no wonder this happened.” The other mother muttered under her breath. Before Oscar could question her, the older teacher spoke up.
“It seems there was a problem between the kids today.” She began, clearly trying to mediate the situation before it got ugly between the parents. “Mattias here stole a toy Hudson was playing with and pushed him over when he tried to get it back. In turn, Fraces bit the Mattias. It didn’t even leave a mark so I know it wasn’t hard, and both kids got a talking to as well as exchanged apologies, but it seems that they might need to go home early for the day to recuperate. We will certainly work on sharing and using our words tomorrow.”
Both Honey and Oscar were shocked. While Hudson was quiet and they had been worried it would make him a target in the future, and they knew their daughter was fiercely protective of her twin, they didn’t think she would result to biting.
“Wow, alright. You two, let's discuss this in the car, yeah?” Oscar said, ready to leave the place as he felt the wrath of the other parent glaring at him. “Really? You are just going to walk away without so much as an apology to me and my son? Unbelievable.” The mother scoffed. “This is why young people shouldn’t be parents. Clearly you two need to grow up just as much. I pray your already terrible daughter grows out of this and doesn't end up like you, spreading her legs too young and becoming up a teen mom because of it.”
Both Honey and Oscar were stunned. They had faced backlash before, sure, but never to their face, and never from someone so clearly in the wrong.
“Excuse me?” Honey asked.
“Oh, you heard me.” The mother replied.
“No, I don’t think I did, because what it sounded like was you were asking for an apology for something your kid started, because I am sure as hell my kids do not have sharing problems. Then when my three year old daughter retaliates to seeing her sweet and vulnerable brother being so blatantly bullied, even though she apologized, you believe you and your snot nosed brat deserve anything else. Guess what, we don’t owe you shit. And while you are so worried about how our kids will end up, why don’t you worry about your own child, who clearly takes after his bully of a mother. Grow up, asshole.” Honey retaliated. She shouldn’t have sworn in front of the kids but damn was it wonderful to see the look on that lady’s face. 
Oscar had never been more turned on by Honey in his life.
After the fight, the family of four got out of there as soon as they could, stopping for ice cream on the way home. They hardly scolded Frances more than a “If someone does something mean, you can’t bite them, use your words” to which she replied “Like Momma did with that lady?” 
The kids were playing quietly in their room once Oscar got alone time with Honey. 
“That was the sexiest thing I have ever seen.” He said, arms circling her waist.
“When I went full bitch mode on that lady?” She asked, laughing at the desire so evident in his eyes.
“When you stood up for your family, and cursed that dickhead out.” He replied as he started kissing her neck.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, I liked it too but in a different way than you did.” She laughed.
Laying on the bed, cuddling as they basked in the love they still had for each other. Oscar managed to ask the question that had been plaguing him for weeks.
“Honey, will you please move back in here and be with me again? I miss you too much.” Oscar pleaded.
“Fine, but you need to work on another proposal. It is only fair since this all kind of started because of you.”
“Deal, this time I will knock your socks off with my proposal, but first I intend on showing you just how much I missed you.” He said as he began to kiss her deeper and more passionately.
Life was starting to get much better. 
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A Legacies Secret |12|
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.
Warnings: Language, Crime Scene, Talks of Murder
Word Count: 2.9k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15
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Sam sighed, running a hand through her hair as she stepped back into the hall. She understood where her sister was coming from, hell, she couldn’t even blame Tara. Sam would probably tell herself she was a danger and to stay away as well. She knew it wasn’t completely rational, but there was an officer right outside Tara’s room, another down the hall, and another in the lobby. There was no reason to think Tara would be in danger unless she was with Sam herself or with you.
Ghostface attacked Tara to draw Sam back to town and it worked. He then attacked you when he knew you’d be away from everyone else. So far, Ghostface’s plan has worked perfectly. This Ghostface knew who Sam’s father was, it took her reading her mom’s old diary to learn that and yet, this monster somehow found out. Then there was you, you were the daughter of Gale Weathers and Dewey Riley, Ghostface learned that before even you did. Ghostface somehow learned Gale had a child, and that child grew up to be you.
Sam knew every previous Ghostface was a part of the friend group, and the killings always went back to the very beginning. This all seemed like a lot for one of Tara's friends to plan though. Whoever did this would have had to do their research; they would have had to have connections. Gale did everything in secret with you, she even left you outside the hospital to remain anonymous, Sam couldn’t even begin to imagine how Ghostface learned that information, if they specifically went searching for some reason or they got lucky and dug from there.
You might not believe it, considering you were at the top of everyone’s suspect list, but you weren’t even on Sam’s list, not anymore. After watching you and Tara together she saw how much you loved her sister, you would literally die before you let anything happen to her, there was no way you’d ever hurt her. What really sold her was your reaction to hearing the truth, like she told Tara, you’d have to be one hell of an actor to sell that. You looked exactly how Sam felt all those years ago, your world shattering before your eyes.
Sam felt for you, she truly did. Learning her dad wasn’t her dad and her real dad was in fact a serial killer definitely sucked, it was something she’d be dealing with in therapy probably for the rest of her life. Despite all that though for the first half of her life she had a loving family, everything was perfect. You never had any of that though, you grew up knowing your family didn’t want you, you grew up alone. The only person you seemed to truly have in your life was Tara. Sam sighed; she asked you to stay away from Tara.
“You, okay?” Richie asked. Sam didn’t have time to stew in her guilt for long as she came back to reality, seeing Richie in front of her, watching her with concern all over his face.
Sam nodded, she looked around, the same officer was still outside Tara’s room, typing away on his phone. Judy was down the hall talking to another officer and pointing to your room. All of Tara’s friends had left though, just as she asked. Part of Sam wondered if she should do the same and just come back in the morning, so far, every time she visited Tara, she seemed to be making things worse.
“Want to go back to the motel?” Richie asked, giving her an awkward smile. “You need to rest, today was a lot,” he reached up and gave her arm a comforting rub.
Sam gave him a sad smile and nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered. Maybe she just needed a break, she just needed to go and sleep in an actual bed, her mind might be more at ease staying at the hospital, but she didn’t think she’d get much sleep in the waiting room chairs.
She followed Richie out of the hospital. “I’ll grab the car,” he whispered before running off across the parking lot.
Sam bounced up and down on her feet outside the hospital. She tried to ignore the fact that Dewey and Gale were clearly arguing a few feet away from her.
“You kept our daughter from me!” Dewey tried to shout but his voice ended up cracking. “Our daughter.”
“I know, I know,” Gale said. She reached out for Dewey, but he stepped away. Sam really was trying not to eavesdrop; she just couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry, I know that’s not enough. I don’t know what else to say.”
“There’s nothing to say!” Dewey gestured widely. “I knew your career was important to you but why didn’t you say something? Out of all the ways…” he shook his head. “Why didn’t you just leave her with me?”
Gale opened and closed her mouth a few times. “I was scared.” Dewey shook his head, clearly not wanting to hear this excuse. “We had just broken up; I was in New York.”
“But you came back to town, you left her here, you-you-,” he gripped at his hair. “We could have figured something out.”
“Let me make this right,” Gale whispered, stepping closer.
Dewey looked at Gale long and hard for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “I’m not sure you can.” With that he walked off, leaving Gale to stand there crying alone.
Sam let out a relieved breath when she saw Richie pull up. She ran to the car as quickly as she could. She had enough going on at the moment, the last thing she wanted was to get caught up in your apparent family drama. She couldn’t blame you or Dewey though, Sam couldn’t even forgive her own mother for keeping her birth father a secret, she didn’t see how you or Dewey could ever forgive Gale.
Sam rested her arm on the door and her head in her hand, she stared out the window as Richie drove them to the motel. Sam had picked out the motel, it was one of the only ones in town, and she had yet to even enter the room.
“And we’ve arrived,” Richie said, breaking Sam out of her trance.
She got out of the car and followed Richie to the door. Richie opened the door, doing a little wave with his hand as he gestured inside the room. Sam smiled at his theatrics but as soon as she got to the doorway she stopped. “What’s wrong?” Richie asked.
“You know, I think I need to clear my head,” Sam said, stepping back. “I’m going to go for a drive.”
“Want me to come?”
Sam shook her head. “I think I just need some time alone.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “I won’t be too long.” She leaned forward, giving Richie a quick kiss before plucking the keys from his hands.
“Okay,” Richie said before entering the room.
Sam got in the driver’s seat of the car. She stared at the motel building in front of her, her body was absolutely exhausted, the only thing calling her name was the crappy bed she knew was inside. Her mind was going a mile a minute though, she knew she’d never be able to rest like this, she just needed to clear her head. She started the car and slowly began to back out of the parking space and turn back onto the main road.
Sam drove around aimlessly, despite growing up in the town she didn’t have a destination in mind, she just kept turning at a stop sign. She furrowed her brow when she saw blue lights flashing up ahead. She looked around, her heart picking up slightly when she realized what street she was on exactly. She pulled over on the side of the road, away from the emergency vehicles. She rushed across the street, her eyes frantically searching for a familiar face, specifically one she was desperate to see safe and sound.
There were already several police cruisers and an ambulance at the house, officers had even already taped up the scene. It hadn’t been too long since everyone left the hospital, when Sam left Judy was still there. Whatever happened had to have just occurred, the quick response of the authorities did nothing to ease Sam’s anxieties.
Sam began to go under the police tape when an officer appeared in front of her. “Sorry ma’am, this is an active crime scene,” he said, holding up his hand.
“What happened?” Sam asked, trying to see around the officer.
Sam’s eyes landed on a yellow tarp being placed over a body on the front porch. “The sheriff.”
Sam’s eyed widened, she had just been with the sheriff, Mindy said the sequel characters, as she liked to call them, didn’t matter, there was no reason for anyone to think Judy would be attacked, besides, she was the sheriff, that wasn’t an easy person to go after.
“What about her son? Sam asked, her eyes instantly scanning for him. “Wes, please, I’m a friend.” Wes only had his mom; she couldn’t imagine him witnessing this or discovering her body.
When Sam looked up, meeting the cops' eyes for the first time, she saw it on his face, she knew what his next words would be. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He turned to walk back across the lawn, back to the crime scene.
Sam ran a hand through her hair. She was just with Wes, he wasn’t supposed to be a target, there was no reason for him to be a target. Mindy was naïve enough to believe this Ghostface was only going after those connected to the first set of killings and Sam was stupid enough to believe it. Judy might not have liked Sam but without her around, the investigation would slow down even more, everyone would be more concerned with the sheriff's death than actually stopping Ghostface.
“I can’t believe you,” Sam heard a man say. She turned to see Gale Weathers walking across the sidewalk, speedily in her heels away from a news van. Dewey was trailing after her, clearly unhappy with whatever Gale was doing or about to do.
“This was the only way to come,” Gale snapped, spinning around to glare at Dewey.
“Oh, was our secret daughter being in danger not enough for you?” Dewey whispered harshly.
“I didn’t report at the hospital. I would never do that to her,” her voice cracked.
Dewey let out a humorless chuckle. “Gale Weathers putting someone else before her career? Guess that makes you mother of the year.” Dewey brushed past her, not waiting for her to say anything.
While Dewey began to talk to one of the officers close by, Sam watched as Gale ran her hands down her blazer, smoothing out any wrinkles. When Gale turned around Sam couldn’t even tell Dewey’s words had affected her, she kept her face completely neutral as she walked to a spot in front of the police tape. The only indication that Dewey’s words hit her was the way she gripped the microphone in her hands. When her camera man popped up, propping the camera on his shoulder as he pointed at her to begin, she fell right into reporter mode. She smiled at the camera and began to recount the recent Ghostface killings, effortlessly leading into the latest attack on Judy and Wes.
“Hey!” Sam shouted when she caught sight of a familiar officer. “Hey, what are you doing here?” She shouted again, finally getting officer Vincent to look at her.
“I heard the call about the sheriff,” he said, as if that explained everything.
“Who’s guarding my sister?”
“All hands-on deck,” he shrugged and made his way over to the sheriff's body and the other officers.
Sam let out a frustrated groan, she knew the murder of the sheriff was top priority, but she couldn’t believe that cop left his position. Deputy Vincent had orders to protect Tara, he clearly wasn’t doing that, Sam highly doubted he could bring something new to the table that the other officers couldn’t. Sam’s eyes widened when she realized the cop who had been guarding her sister’s door was now standing across the lawn, nowhere near the hospital.
Sam didn’t hesitate to take off back towards her car. “Where are you going?” Dewey shouted after her.
“My sister is in danger!” Sam shouted back; she didn’t have time to waste. She told you to stay away from Tara, she herself left the hospital, now the one person ordered to protect Tara was also gone, there was literally no one standing between Tara and Ghostface coming after her.
Sam didn’t know shit about the movies, she didn’t know how any of this was actually supposed to work. What she did know though was that whoever was doing this was trying to hurt Sam for some reason and now that her sister was defenseless the easiest way to hurt Sam would be to go after Tara again. Ghostface let Tara live the first time, that was just to draw Sam back to town though, there was no way he’d let her live the second time.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked when she saw Dewey running after her.
“Figured you could use backup,” Dewey sighed, though he didn’t seem thrilled about most likely running straight into the line of fire.
“You don’t need to stay?” Sam flicked a glance across the way where Gale stood, talking to her camera man as she gestured behind her, talking about the crime scene.
“This isn’t where I’m needed,” is all Dewey said.
Sam didn’t waste anymore time before she jumped in the car, quickly starting it, she barely checked her mirrors as she whipped back out onto the road. She ignored the way Dewey groaned, his hands flailing to grasp the handle on the door as he was flung back against the seat.
With one hand Sam whipped out her phone, quickly tapping on Richie’s contact. “Hey,” Richie greeted after a few rings.
“Get to the hospital,” Sam said quickly.
“What? Why? What’s going on?”
“I think Tara’s in danger.”
There was a long pause, Sam wondered if she somehow had lost him. “You want me to go to the hospital where a psycho killer might be?” She could hear the hesitation in his voice.
“Richie, please,” Sam begged.
“Okay, okay, I’m going.”
“We’ll meet you there.” Sam made an abrupt right turn, letting her phone fly out of her hand and into Dewey’s lap.
Dewey let out a groan and held out the phone to Sam. “Sorry,” she whispered. She quickly took the phone back, scrolling through the contacts until she found the one she wanted.
“Now, who are you calling?” Dewey asked.
“Y/N,” Sam answered instantly. Dewey furrowed his brow; he opened his mouth to say something else but before he could Sam heard the little click indicating someone had picked up. “Y/N,” she practically screamed into the phone.
“Too what do I owe the displeasure Samantha?” you asked, clearly still pissed at her.
Sam couldn’t blame you; she couldn’t even be bothered to care you called her Samantha, there were more important matters at hand. “Ghostface is going after Tara.”
“What?” You instantly got serious. “How do you know?” It sounded like you were shuffling around.
“Judy’s dead.” There was silence on the other end, Sam couldn’t even hear you moving around anymore. “Wes too.”
“Fuck,” you whispered.
“He’s going after Tara.” Sam let out a shaky breath, she knew how hypocritical she was, she told you to stay away from Tara because you were going to put her in danger and now, she was calling you, her only hope at protecting Tara. “Look I’m-”
“He’s not laying a fucking hand on her,” you cut her off. Sam couldn’t help but glance at her phone, your voice had gotten much darker, she really wouldn’t want to be Ghostface at the moment.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Whatever,” with that you hung up.
Sam blinked away a few tears, you were there, Tara would be fine. She didn’t miss the way Dewey was glancing at her. “I told her to stay away from Tara,” Sam whispered.
“And yet she was the one you called,” he said.
“I knew she’d ignore me,” Sam let out a humorless chuckle.
“She really loves her,” Dewey whispered more to himself.
Sam spared a quick glance at Dewey. He was slumped in the seat, staring out the windshield but at nothing in particular. Sam couldn’t imagine what he must be going through, his wife, ex-wife, love of his life, never told him they had a daughter together. Sam might not have known Dewey all too well, but she knew he was a good man. He and you were robbed of getting to be a family. He was robbed of getting to be a father and you were robbed of getting a loving father.
Sam nodded. “She’s very protective,” Sam said quietly. “She won’t let anyone, no matter who they are,” She smiled to herself, remembering how you got with her when it came to Tara, you didn’t care she was Tara’s older sister, your only priority was making sure Tara was okay, “hurt someone she loves.”
Sam caught the small, yet sad, smile on Dewey’s face. Sam whipped the wheel, making another sharp turn. Everything was going to be fine, you were with Tara, you would protect her, and she and Dewey were on the way, no one else was going to die today.
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 years
Text
Wayne first saw Steve Harrington when he was on a class field trip to the plant. He couldn’t have been older than 9. Eddie hadn’t come to live with him yet.
He only saw him for a minute, but it only took a minute to see that the boy had dark circles under his eyes that rivaled his own.
It took him a while to forget about the exhausted child in front of him and how much he reminded him of his nephew.
*****
He attended one of the Hawkins High basketball games during Eddie’s first senior year, took the night off for it, even. Eddie was never one for sports, so the fact he agreed to play with his band during their halftime was something Wayne couldn’t pass up watching. It had to have meant something to his boy for him to even mention it, so he played the part of proud parent and sat through the first half of the game.
But when he saw Steve Harrington out there, he couldn’t help but check for those dark circles or the same exhausted slump he saw in a child much too young to show physical signs of exhaustion.
He appeared to be fine, though Wayne couldn’t help but notice how he kept searching the stands for something or someone during every pause in the game.
Wayne had a gut feeling he knew who he was searching for, and an even stronger one that he wouldn’t find them.
After the game and the show, Wayne helped Eddie pack his guitar and amp into the back of the van.
“Hey, you ever talk to that Harrington boy?”
Eddie’s face was answer enough.
*****
To know Eddie was alive wasn’t enough for Wayne, he needed to watch him breathing, watch his fingers twitch while he slept. He needed to know that Eddie was real, was safe, was right in front of him.
But apparently Steve Harrington needed the same reassurances.
Steve had been by Eddie’s side since they let visitors into the room. As far as Wayne knew, he’d only left once for an hour to visit that Max girl’s room.
He was hesitant to say anything beyond kind greetings and goodbyes when he had to head to work. Steve looked one second away from breaking down.
He held Eddie’s hand like it was a lifeline, and maybe it was for him. Whatever they’d been through was serious, proof of that being the injuries they both were dealing with and the fact that Eddie hadn’t opened his eyes yet.
As much as Wayne wanted explanations, he wanted Steve to find comfort in being with Eddie more.
The dark circles under his eyes remained.
Wayne watched the way Steve would stare at Eddie, wordlessly begging him to open his eyes, and wondered what had changed between them. Was it just the trauma of the situation or something else?
He’d known Eddie liked boys for years; hard to hide when you get caught sneaking out of the house to go to a “special” bar in Indianapolis on a school night. He hugged him, told him he loved him no matter what, and offered to drive him out there himself the next weekend he had off if he promised to not go alone on a school night.
But Steve didn’t seem the type. Wayne had learned how to spot them, mostly so he could protect Eddie, and Steve had never seemed like he’d strayed or even thought about straying from girls.
He shouldn’t assume, though.
He knew how Richard Harrington was.
So he sat silently, guarding the two boys who needed it most.
On the sixth day, Wayne asked a nurse if Steve had left the hospital at all.
“No. Poor boy’s been glued to his side. The doctor had to stitch him up in the room because he wouldn’t leave.”
“Stitch him up?”
“Oh, yes! He had a large wound on his side and his chest had a few areas that needed stitches. He wouldn’t let anyone bandage his neck, but they prescribed him penicillin to try to prevent infection.”
Wayne shook his head. So Steve was a self-sacrificing idiot. Time to address that.
“Thanks, Janet. I owe ya a coffee for takin’ such good care of Eddie.”
Janet blushed. “Stop it! I’m just doing my job.”
Wayne smiled at her before making his way into Eddie’s room.
As usual, Steve was in a chair by his bed, hand in hand with Eddie.
The unusual part was that Steve was fast asleep, head nestled against Eddie’s leg.
It couldn’t be comfortable, but going off of how Steve had looked the day before, he was probably too tired to care about comfort.
Wayne looked at the scene in front of him.
Something else was different, too.
Eddie’d moved.
Only someone who’s been in this room for hours on end every day would have noticed it. Eddie’s head was turned towards Steve, and his other hand had found it’s way to Steve’s hair.
Oh.
So it was like that.
Wayne let out a shaky breath, too many emotions trying to escape at once. His boy had woken up, and had found comfort in someone who hadn’t left his side for almost a week. He couldn’t ask for more.
He slowly made his way out of the room, catching Janet just as she was passing to check on another patient.
“Did Eddie wake up?”
Janet’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, Steve hasn’t come to get us. Why? Is everything alright?”
Wayne nodded. “Everything’s fine.”
She smiled at him and continued on her way.
Wayne smiled to himself as he made his way down to the cafeteria to get Steve some food.
It looked like Steve Harrington was finally getting some rest.
Supportive Uncle Wayne Series Part 2
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circeyoru · 6 months
Text
Collection of Overlords _ Part 3 = Requested
[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]
Related Ask (1) + (2)
Part 1 — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 (here) — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13
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On the appointed day, you dressed your best and made sure everything was right. Then you sat at the balcony that overlooked the entrance of the hotel, enjoying your drink with a hum. You were pleasantly surprised when Alastor joined you with a plate of traditional breakfast platter, just as you like it but never spend the time to make
The two of you enjoyed a peaceful morning together, until a little argument got too heated between a hotel guest and an outsider. Alastor swiftly got up and bowed to excuse himself, working as the host of the hotel, he needed to handle the issue since Charlie was a bit of a pushover and not quite convincing when it came to breaking off fights
It led you to wonder if you should give Charlie some pointers like you did to her parents, but then you recalled how Vaggie, Charlie’s girlfriend, was by her side. You’ll admit that they have quite the unique dynamic in their relationship and not in the bad way. So you decided against it and let things go as they please
With a miniture earthquake and some screaming, the argument seemed to be handled well. Not long after that thought, Alastor had returned to your side. Both of you enjoyed your time together again, before you decided it would be fun to drop in on Camilla, not that she’d be preparing when it’s this late
Alastor offered you his hand with a bow, you rose from your seat and gave him your hand. A portal opened beneath you two and the both of you emerged on the other side in the blink of an eye
“Who dares to enter—! My Liege!” Carmilla caught herself half way when she looked over to see you and Alastor arrive earlier than expected, “Welcome to my humble abored. I hope this is satisfactory.”
“I sprung this onto you, so it’s okay.” You turned your head to her, removing your hand from Alastor’s while a small but soft smile played on your face. With your closed eyes, it gave you such a look of elegance that Carmilla strived to be.
“You’re too kind.” Carmilla bowed to you in greeting. 
“How are your daughters? I heard you’ve survived quite the ordeal last last extermination.” You inquired, your smile widening just a smidge. 
Carmilla flinched, though it wasn’t the fact that you knew since she did tell you about killing an angel and what to do if it got out. It was more on the sense that you were showing care to lesser individuals, as much as she hated to admit. “They are fine. Would you like to see them?”
You hummed, “Of course.”
Not even a second later, Carmilla’s daughter duo came out from whatever hiding spot they were at. Odette and Clara both gave you a bow of their own style, though still respectful. “Collector! It’s good to see you again!”
You raised their heads by the chin, then rubbing their heads with a chuckle, “Look at you two, still fun sized. You’re as beautiful as your mother, you know?”
Carmilla blushed while Alastor gave her a teasing grin. Meanwhile, Odette and Clara chuckled along with you. “Thanks!”
You turned to the Overlord, “Now, we have time, why not chat a bit? Tell me about your business.”
Carmilla Carmine was your first female and second Overlord that you came into contract with. She was by far one of the more successful souls that you favour and support from the shadows. Her initial deal was the right to make business ventures to other Rings of Hell in exchange for your ownership of her soul
It later changed when she knew angelic weapons can be wielded. For additional protection that would extend to lesser demons, namely her two daughters, she gave you a range of modified angelic weapons and crafted your Cages with angelic steel. Of course, with Carmilla’s successful, you later continued to support her and protect her daughters from danger
Passing along a card to Odette and Clara that holds the power to summon you in times of need no matter the case. Good acts are rewards, Carmilla learned, you weren’t at all evil to the core or cruel to abuse your owned souls like other would, that’s what she admired about you
Before your absence, you would hang out with her and her daughters on days to discuss about business opportunities and how business was going in the other Rings since it was hard for Carmilla to receive feedback like that
In fact, that day, they were trying to find you, only to end up being cornered by exterminators. While Odette and Clara wanted to summon you to their aid, Carmilla made them hold off. She was present, she can protect them and show you they weren’t weak. So she did what you had suggested before, to actually test out her weapons on the intented targets
You were overjoyed when you first heard the news. An Overlord had actually managed to kill angels and it was done while protecting others. You truly didn’t waste your time and energy on Carmilla, that’s for sure
Yet you wonder why Carmilla was still insecure about her position as one of the Elites that you’d never give up. She can’t be threatened when she has such success in her domain; the best Weapons’ Dealer of Hell
“I desire I wasn’t late to greeteth thee, mine own Liege. (I hope I wasn’t late to greet you, My Liege.)” Zestial greeted with a bow. 
You waved your hand, by now you have returned to the meeting room with Alastor stationed behind you by your left side. “No, no. I was early. Wanted to catch up with Carmilla, you see.”
Zestial took the seat to your right and next to Carmilla who had already left his seat empty, “T hath felt as though t hast been ages since we lasteth did talk. (It felt as though it has been ages since we last talked.)”
Zestial was your first and oldest Overlord by far. He maintained his spot at the top of your collection with ease. With his fearful reputation before your support, he was one to be reckoned with
It seems that his knowledge of Hell and wisdom served him well, as he was the one to seek you out when you were first on the hunt for potential Overlords to crown and give your support to. He offered himself to you wholeheartedly and obediently, something you didn’t expect someone of his caliber to do so. Yet it proves that he was knowledgable not to cross you
His humble nature earned your good graces. You offered him support and protection to which he agreed without much thought. Funny how he never asked for more as he was someone deserving of more. So you gave him a fearsome authority that makes sinners and demons alike trumble in fear in his presence
During your time of weeding out the weaker Overlords, it was with his knowledge that you overturned the system the sinners so ignorantly constructed without power or authority. To this day, you didn’t think your ‘Overlord rank’ planning would be this smooth if not thanks to Zestial
Needless to say, he was also another soul you won’t let go
“Oh, My lovely darling Liege! It’s been so long! Where have you been?! Oh, you’re always so mysterious!” Rosie greeted with a bow and a half curtsy to you, she came to your left side, setting her umbrella on the second empty seat as the first was for Alastor should he be told to sit. Then she opened a box and showed it to you, “A gift from Cannibal Town~! Prepared it myself, your favourites.”
“Thank you, Rosie. You know my taste well.” You smile, picking up the demon parts before nibbling on it, savouring the taste. “It’s wonderful. Tell me, how’s your town after the battle with Heaven?”
“Everyone had their fill, Alastor did me no wrong.” Rosie winked in Alastor’s direction who smiled back. “We’re all happy to be able to help out.”
Rosie was your third Overlord to form a contract with. Her record was quite perfect and ideal too, the leader of the Cannibals. At the time, she was a ringleader, sure. But she lacked the territory to provide for the other Cannibals, so you provided and supported. The moment the deal was signed, a town was constructed to be named as her domain
You’ll say, they were quite the nice ones, save for the devouring other demons. Rosie’s territory had to be one of the more respectful and disciplined ones that you love. You lament on the fact that Rosie wasn’t the violent type, though it’s a relief as well perhaps
“My Sovereign!” Zeezi bursted in, immediately bowing, “Sorry, I would have been here earlier but some pucks was trying to get in and I have to teach them a lesson!”
“It’s all well, the meeting has yet to start.” You eased Zeezi’s rushed thoughts.
Zeezi bowed her head as a nod, taking her seat next to Rosie. “Right.”
Zeezi was the largest within your Overlord Collection and the most physical one. Whenever it was a more violent and brutal ordeal you needed taken clear of, she was the Overlord you call upon. Unlike those that came before her, she was more free spirited and you let her keep that element of hers
At first, she was hestitant to submit to your service, but you’ve showed her there was now to power than violence and brute force that she displays and revolves around. She pride herself as the strongest Overlord with great physical strength. Maybe she’ll win against another Overlord, but not you. As easily as squashing a bug, you had her pinned
In return for her soul, you offer her strength and authority, as well as your support in her rise and maintance as an Overlord. She was smart to take the deal without a need for a beatdown, while you’re delighted to provide, you didn’t want to damage your soul
“The Witching Hour is almost upon us.” You spoke. It was an indirect question to ask who was still not in attendance. 
Everyone turned to the opposite side of the table from where you sat, the three empty seats for the only grouped Overlords. Alastor suggested, “Perhaps they don’t want to attend.”
“Or their representative is running late.” Carmilla hissed, an obvious scowl on her face. 
The doors suddenly bursted open, though even more force as opposed to Zeezi’s entrance. However, they appear to be still in their little world.
“I told you it’s this way but you didn’t even listen!” Velvette shouted.
“How was I supposed to know? It’s all the same!” Valentino exclaimed back.
Alastor cleared his throat rather loudly, bringing the Vees’ attention to the room they’ve entered. “Quite brazen of you to not greet our Liege.”
Vox flinched, immediately passing by the other Overlords and stood to your side, he bowed repeated as he apologized, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just trying to make sure you’re safe! It’s nothing like stalking! Really! Trust me! I’d never—!”
“Damnit! Stop apologizing so much!” Velvette came over to slap Vox in the back of his screen head, making her partner glitch and malfunction. Velvette pulled back Vox till they were next to Valentino, she silently whispered but everyone could hear as clear as day, “One, two, three…”
“We greet our Master.” The Vees all bowed, finally greeting you.
You hummed, head tilted a bit, “Arriving the last and creating a scene, you three almost amuse me so.” Your eyes peeked open a bit, “Not in a good way.” A chill ran down the three’s back while Alastor had a smug smile directed to them, especially at Vox, and the other Overlords remained quiet but were internally grinning. “Now sit down.”
“Yes…”
And then there were the Vees, the last to add to your collection and the most disappointing souls by far. They are strong in their own rights, yet they require the other two to boost their power. You were already able to do so, why would they prefer each other more? It was in a way insulting. However, you’d rather they be under your thumb than them running amok in the Pride Ring
It’s times like these where you wonder if Husk would make a better Overlord than them if he learnt his lesson
With Vox, he was trying to please you while also trying to appear better than Alastor. In your opinion, if he had focused more on himself and his strength, he could go places. Yet he opted to working with the other two
With Velvette, she was a strong lady, no doubt. Similar to Zeezi, but more chaotic and destructive. She doesn’t take criticism well, more focused on her own perspective and views. Nothing wrong in that sense, but it limits her capacity for more. She could have been so much more
With Valentino, oh, you don’t even know where to start. You honestly believe he’s a total lost cause. While believing so, your fear tactic worked to perfection. Your dissatifaction and anger was the first thing he avoids. Usually, he’s very very outspoken, but when you were around, he was more careful. Though that doesn’t account for his actions and behaviours when you were out of sight
You clapped your hands together, your eyes closing once more. All your Elites were here and accounted for, all three levels seated as you’d like. All the souls that you own have gathered before you once again. “Let’s begin the reunion of an afterlife time.”
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Note: Still not the exact meeting yet, but the drama is gonna happen next one! I think this one might be a bit boring cause I'm laying out the relationship. Oh well~
Circe Y.
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hazelfoureyes · 6 months
Text
A Doe in Fall (part 2)
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I have a terrible case of the big bad sads so enjoy part 2 earlier than I planned
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds
Part 2 Liar
You not-stalk Alastor for weeks but don’t find anything blackmail worthy to grab ahold of. But luckily (?) for you, a chance encounter pulls you deeper into his hobbies and therefore his scope of fascination. Most importantly, do murderers go on dates?
「Warnings/Promises: Smut, HumanAlastor x FemBurlesquerReader, Alastor eats pussy like beignets (MESSY), dancing, shoe stress, murder, dead body, food metaphors, stalking, masturbation, Tommy is a bad dude, allusion to coerced prostitution, praise kink?, public sex acts, stage name is a fucking pun GOTCHU BITCHES, Gluttony」
minors dni please
The nights you didn’t work were spent casually looking for Alastor. Not stalking, just …. pursuing. 
You found over the course of several weeks what places he never attended, and a few that he did like clockwork. As much as you wanted to approach him, you knew you’d end up checkmated again. You just wanted to observe the man, surely you’d see something you could use against him, something tangible.
What was he doing? Knife carrying smooth talker who fingers ladies in the park? There was more to him than you anticipated. That addictive adrenaline rush was calling you to chase him. You’d catch him in the act of whatever men like him did, and—- well, you’d figure it out then. Was he a mugger, maybe? The knife would make sense. But he disposed of bodies so well, a month and no mention of a corpse anywhere. You didn’t want to even touch the thought bubbling up in the back of your skull. It was getting louder and louder, heavier than the other thoughts.
A repeat killer.
You decided, somewhat foolishly, if he was a killer it would be best to know that information. So you needed to continue even if the cards all read death. Right? 
Right.
For all his efforts, he hadn’t actually noticed you. While he tended to stay at the back of the room, you were always further back, on the balcony, at the bar. He went about enjoying his nightlife wholly unaware someone was watching. Because of this, he did things that were considered quite dangerous for a woman.
Many nights you found yourself alone in wooded areas. Well, “alone”. 
During your casual stalking you found him to be quite pretty, in a sense. He walked smoothly, always had pressed and tailored suits. Slender fingers, wide shoulders, small waist. Fingers.
Many more nights you buried your face into your pillow and thought about his hands on you, his breath at your ear. His “Shhh.” You couldn’t replicate the feeling. No matter how you tried.
If all else failed, no juicy blackmail available, maybe just endear yourself to him. Bed him. Get the conquest done and let him go on with his little crime spree or whatever it was he was doing when you weren’t watching. Because so far all you’ve seen is a man who loves to dance and enjoys whiskey. 
After another show done, body sore, you did your tour of the theatre. Tommy was snapping his fingers at you from the bar, his attempt to tell you to come over. Every day he seemed to become more and more brutish.
“What can I do for ya?” You tried to keep a bounce in your step, arches aching. 
“I want you to meet someone.” Tommy turned to a small man at the bar, hair thinning and combed forward. You guessed in his sixties. “Give Mr. Wilson a warm welcome. He’s one of your most generous benefactors.”
You nodded, smile slipping as you mind started to consider what was happening. You had heard some girls were taking dates, offering private shows, but you had been under the impression that was entirely of their own free will and desire. Had Tommy turned pimp? Your gaze flashed to Tommy, his stare cold, and then back to the man. “Well, thank you very much doll! Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wilson.” Tommy saw someone walk by and followed, leaving you with the older man. 
“Your dance was something else, sweetheart.” You nodded, his hand coming to rest on your hip. “I bet those hips do more than dancing.”
Leaning in, you rested your hand on the hand he set on your hip and whispered into his ear, “Touch me again without my permission,” you lifted his tie, a flirtatious move to anyone watching, “And the next time you see this tacky tie, you’ll be shitting it out.” You patted his chest. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
You pushed through the crowd and out of the front doors of the theatre. The air chillier tonight than past weeks. Looking around, you balled your fists. You wanted to hit something, break something.
Without any destination you tore off down the street, angrily huffing to yourself. You looked both ways to cross the intersection when you saw a familiar silhouette. A car honked, your hands coming up in apology as you finished crossing the street to follow Alastor.
Was your luck miraculous? Or malignant? You made it several blocks before a man stepped in front of you. You weren’t listening, trying to look past him to see where Smiles was headed.
“Will you fuck off?!” You pushed him out the way only to have him pull you back by the arm. Before you could let out your frustration, a stranger walked up to you both. 
“Hands off, move along.” The stranger flashed his identification papers, making the offender leave quickly with his head down. “Miss you need to be careful out here. There’s been people missing from this ward. Pretty thing like you should be home.” 
Your mouth formed various shapes, no words fitting.
“Detective Brady.” He handed you a card.
I don’t want this.
“Sure, thanks.” You snatched it with two fingers and practically jogged away. No sign of him, no indication where Alastor went. Were there any forested areas? He often took strolls in shady parks but you couldn’t remember any nearby. Turning around you realized how far you’d wandered from the fanfare and lights. The area was dark and deserted, not just Alastor but no one was around anymore. You stashed the card in your bra and rushed past an alley, giving up and deciding to just go home, when your ears caught the sound of dragging fabric on pavement.
Ice. Your blood chilled. Taking a few steps backwards, you turned to look into the darkened side street. You saw nothing, but heard a familiar wet sound.
Would it matter? Death?
You lifted your heels, walking on the balls of your feet to not make any sound as you approached the black shadow blanketing the majority of the side street.
A glimpse of brown leather shoes peeked into the light, soon your eyes adjusted as you too entered the inky darkness.
“I don’t care for liars.” Alastor was in front of you before you could even shout from shock. You looked around him to see a crumpled body on the ground and a black car.
“Is there a problem?” His eyes scanned your face, his usual smile no longer so inviting but instead manic and wide. You don’t know what possessed you, the adrenaline was flowing again and drowning out your more sensible thoughts. 
Your eyes were locked on his golden brown stare, “Only… if you’re quite attached to his wallet.”
He burst into laughter, wiping tears with the back of his bloodied glove. A small smear of blood was left behind on his cheek.
“I have no need for it.” He reached down and fished it out of the man’s pocket, “And neither does he!”
You caught it with both hands, “Well doesn’t that make me the lucky lady of the evening.”
“Don’t speak too soon. I’m quite cross with you.” He gestured at you with the knife, “We had a deal.”
In what could best be described as an out of body experience you watched yourself rush to his side and lift the man’s legs, “In the trunk?”
Alastor stared at you, teeth showing as his smile grew, “I’ve seen films less entertaining than you.” A stifled laugh as he lifted the man from under his arms and you both carried him to the car. You dropped the legs with a loud thud, Alastor gently setting the man down and opening the trunk.
A waxed canvas was lining the inside, “Clever.” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He hummed happily at the compliment and you sank your teeth into the reaction. Everyone wants something; power, money, sex, praise. Find the right combination and even the toughest hearts would swing open. 
After he tossed the man, the knife, and the gloves into the back, you reached for his hand. “Your wife is going to be miffed. Blood is so difficult to get out of cotton.” You scratched at the bit of blood that had stained his cuff. “Spit works really well. But lemon juice and baking soda before any store bought cleaners will help.”
Alastor took his hand back, adjusting his sleeve to hide the red spot, “Oh she has much bigger issues to deal with.”
Your mind raced. A chauvinist? Abuser? A weight settled into your stomach; disappointment. “Is that so?”
Giggling, he leaned against the bumper, one leg crossing in front of the other, “Considering she doesn’t exist, she’s quite terrible at laundry. And I haven’t eaten a meal in years.” A giggle devolving into a full chest laugh. 
A terrible joke, you smacked his chest, “Cruel! Unfunny!” 
“Perhaps I should eat you?” He leaned close. 
“I hear I’m quite sweet.” You smirked, heart pounding in your chest with such force you were rocking slightly with each pulse.
Alastor felt his blood pressure rising. He should kill you. Just to be safe. But—- oh, this was so fun. You hid any fear you were feeling perfectly. He could be forgiven to think he was staring into a mirror. If he met himself in an alley, well, he would feel quite safe. Perhaps you we’re of a similar inclination?
He watched your throat as you gulped. You licked your thumb and wiped at his cheek, “You always make a mess, hun.”
Alastor felt the world spin as you then dragged your blood stained thumb over your lips, red lipstick smearing with it. “Sweet eno-,” he swallowed your words, hand coming to your neck and pulling you into the kiss. No patience, his tongue swiped over your mouth and plunged in at the smallest parting. 
Your mind was screaming, finally, yes. 
His tongue as soft as his hands rolled over your own, every time your mouths pulled away and drew back together was thinning your frontal cortex. Alastor could taste the faint metallic tinge of the man’s blood on your mouth, and he found his sleeping libido shiver awake. Always a fan of kissing, he now found his mind wandering to other parts of your body, other acts of affection, as he felt you’d call them.
No time. He pulled away, “Against the wall.”
You practically threw yourself into the bricks. Alastor pulled a gas tin from the trunk and began dousing the street. You frowned, body relaxing.
“You’re taking the food metaphor too far. Fire? Really?” You took a second to realize there was no odor.
A laugh in threes, “Water, dear.” You watched the blood thin and begin snaking down to the gutter. He set the can in the trunk and closed the hatch. After opening the drivers door he turned to you, “Do you trust me to drive you home?”
“Honestly, no.”
“That’s why I like you,” a wink. “Wear comfortable shoes tomorrow.” He flashed a smile, pushing his glasses up. Before you could question him he  hopped into the car and drove off out of the back of the side street.
Alastor found himself singing a little louder as he drove home. A thrilling evening becoming somehow more exciting. He realized that always seemed to happen when you stumbled into his plans. Still annoyed you had followed him, his thoughts shifted to possibilities. A kindred spirit could make things easier. More fun. Safer. But who were you? Much like himself you wore a mask. He could see it clearly as it always began to slip in his presence. 
He pulled his car behind his home, backed up against a large greenhouse. Still in the idling vehicle, his fingers came to his lips. What a peculiar creature you were. Killing the lights and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, he considered what to do. The possibilities kept coming in waves. But he stopped himself, never one to live in fantasy. Helping toss a dead man into a car wasn’t the same as killing. Yes, you showed no outward concerns, but he couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t turn tail the second things got more intense. 
He always took his time, sensing out those who were good candidates. The abhorrent, the abusers, the cruel. There was something so satisfying, deep in his gut, to watch a person with power over others cower in fear. The same eyes that relished in the pain they gave to those under their thumb shaking in realization the were now the prey. Begging for mercy they didn’t afford others. Alastor sighed. He remembered your pained sob in the park, frustration and disappointment at his lack of reaction. Eyes fluttering closed, if you had gotten in the car you’d not be disappointed in him now. 
A deeper sigh. But you didn’t. Which was wise. He thought better of you for it. Opening his eyes and leaving the car, he went to the trunk to begin his work.
You couldn’t sleep. Not because of the dead man, you were getting used to that. It was the lack of information. Comfortable shoes? For what? He didn’t give you a time or place to meet.
Tomorrow was Sunday, you realized. Ah, the bar. That was the only place that would make sense. 
Sundays were big nights for your theatre, but you weren’t needed unless a girl was sick. You simply weren’t at that level of fame for your little company and this was fine for you suddenly. You spent your Sunday pacing your small one room apartment and changing shoes.
What did Alastor have planned? With the little you knew about him it a could be a capital crime or a walk in the park. You genuinely couldn’t imagine and it was exciting. A normal man asking you—- was this a date? Was it presumptive to call it a date? You couldn’t quite see Alastor dating. You let the question go. Most men would take you for a movie and perhaps a chaste kiss at the door of a cab. With Alastor it could be literally anything. How do you dress for anything? 
Your friend teased you, arriving early to her bar and chewing on your lip. 
“So, either you suddenly wanna look nice for my dive, or you’re expecting someone.” She was wiping down the counter.
“I adore your customers, Betty.” You hopped from the seat, needing to reapply your lipstick.
Your singing voice was strained, nerves keeping you tense. Looking into the modest crowd you couldn’t find him. A cornflower yellow dress, a little too tight around your waist but you didn’t let that stop you. The collar a loose and folding slit from shoulder to shoulder, you were positively cute, he decided. Leaning at the bar he couldn’t see your face, but under the small lights you were glowing nonetheless. A little ball of pride rose in his gut, noticing you clearly had put more care into your appearance tonight than most Sundays. 
Truth was he had enjoyed a whiskey and your songs for several months now, always at the seat closest to the door, out of sight and out of mind. His favorite of your casual dive bar digs were the trousers you occasionally wore. You looked so sharp.
When your set was done, you tried to be gracious as you left the piano’s side. Alastor watched you from his seat, letting your face light up once again when you recognized him. He gave a noticeable look to your shoes. 
“Those will do.” 
“Do what?” 
“You,” he leaned against the bar, “owe me a drink. And alcohol always pairs well with dance.”
Maybe a date, you thought. You offered him your arm, “Lead the way.”
As you walked, arm in arm, you found yourself not needing to speak much. His arm was so solid in yours. You felt like everyone was looking, the handsome man and the pretty young thing. Did you two look sweet? Like the cleanest cut kids in the neighborhood? Did you look like the kind of people who sat in pews once a week and clasped hands over dinner?
Did you look like the sort to toss bodies in cars? No, decidedly not. And it made you feel powerful. What a perfect act. The feeling of looking nothing like what you were was akin to the addicting rush of your cat and mouse game with most men. 
“Do you like those group dances? Like the Big Apple?” Alastor asked as he opened the doors for you. 
“Not particularly…”
“Perfect, neither do I.” He laughed. 
A small table in a small nook of a booth lining the small dance floor. You clinked your glasses together, no toast necessary, and watched the couples swing around the room. As the 20’s were fading from the rear view, you all hoped dance would be less stigmatized. But part of the fun was how scandalous it was. 
“How was your day? Made it home safe and sound?” Alastor crossed his legs and leaned into the plush booth seat. 
Oh, this was going to be… normal? You choked a little on your drink, surprised. “Honestly?”
“Always.”
“I sat in my apartment changing my shoes repeatedly.”
Alastor’s laugh was loud and sharp, but you didn’t find it obnoxious. You liked it.
“That wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t want to risk you being unable to dance.”
You rolled your eyes, taking a slow sip with your gaze on the dancers, “Ya know how to avoid that? Tell me to wear shoes for dancing.”
A snicker, “Perhaps I’m not quite as skilled with talking to women as I like to think.”
“Then talk to me like a man.” Your glass made a thud as it hit the table. Alastor’s eyes widened as they always did when you said something wildly amusing to him.
“Hmm, I don’t talk much to men.” He thought, “Not for long conversations, that is.” Your mind conjured up the two dead men. “I never asked your name. Is it too late now?”
“You saw it on the posters. Autumn.”
Alastor smirked, “Autumn Hind is not your real name. That is clearly a stage name.”
Swirling your drink in its crystal, you smiled, “It’s a good one though, you have to admit.” His brow cocked, not understanding. “Hind, a doe. And what do does do in the fall?” Your own brows rose suggestively. 
Alastor hit the table, “A deer pun?! Oh darling, we’re going to be fast friends.” He offered you his glass for another wordless toast.
“I thought it was pretty funny, for a burlesque dancer no less. A horny little deer prancing on stage. Better than Allie Way and Frosti Winters.” You grinned into the glass, proud of yourself.
You could see Alastor physically relax beside you, dancers moving about in front of you both. 
“And yours? Your day, that is.”
He hummed, “I slept late, stayed up late. Took care of our newly penniless friend.” 
You wanted to ask more, what did you do with him? Can I come next time? Is there a pool of gators somewhere eating well today?
He leaned in to you, “May I have this dance?”
Your smile was uncontained, all desire to control your outward appearance was lost in the fun of dancing with your newest partner. Was there anyone else in the room with you anymore? Who knows. The music kept playing and that was all you needed. 
Alastor was a marvelous dancer,  you noticed other women glancing his way, eye lashes fluttering but ignored as he focused on the movements. This was how you managed to not-stalk him so well, he was completely unaware of the interested gazes of those around him.
While he didn’t notice the individual stares, Alastor could feel the attention on him and it made his chest puff. He loved it, how he could feed an image to the masses and be seen as he saw fit. It was something you both had in common, even if neither of you had strong enough egos to vocalize it yet.
When the music wound down, a slow number for the lovers, you hadn’t expected Alastor to stay on the dance floor. A slow dance, one arm on your hip, hand in hand. 
Now close, you felt you could speak without risk of others eavesdropping. 
“Why did you invite me out? I have a distinct memory of you saying you had very little affection or time.” You were shorter than him, your shoes not very tall, so you had to speak up and at his neck.
“A man who says he has no time is a man unwilling to make any.” Alastor led you in a small sway along the floor.
“Oh so you just didn’t see me worth the effort before.” You said it half teasingly, half seriously.
He looked down now, eyes meeting yours again, “That was before I knew how entertaining you could be.”
You pouted, entertaining was not the word you wanted to hear. Enthralling, Enchanting, Endearing. 
“There’s that face again. What ever could it mean.” Alastor’s head cocked to the side.
“I’m entertaining at work. You don’t need to take me out to enjoy my entertainment value.” 
He laughed again, making you glare, “Darling, being entertaining is high praise. And you’re not entertaining at work. You’re bewitching.” He pulled you a little closer, “The way you make those men act a fool. Truly a sight. You wield a power many women just dabble in.”
You shimmied a little against his chest, “Well if we’re giving out compliments…” you remembered the satisfying hum from last night, “The canvas was clever, but the water in the cans was brilliant. Nothing suspicious about a little petrol in the trunk.”
His grin widened. “And your precision. One cut and that brute was down. It was remarkable.” The hand holding your waist began to tighten. It egged you on, whether he intended it to or not, “I can appreciate the way you carry yourself.” Your freehand ran across his vest, suit jacket left at the table, “I wish I could see more.”
Your chest pressed against his, trapping your hand. “Ooh, you are observant, little one. Why did you agree to come out? Still chasing my,” his hips pressed against yours, hand sliding down slightly to hold you close, “affection?”
Fingers playing with his buttons, “Hmm, debilitating fascination and your affection. Do you have any to spare?” You smiled sweetly up at him.
Your mouths were on each other before the bathroom door closed behind you. Alastor locking it without looking, one hand staying on your neck. The small room was just a single toilet and a bathroom cabinet with a built in sink. Little tulip shaped light sconces above the mirror made the room brighter than the dance hall. Your nails lightly grazed his scalp, him humming in return. His body was pressing yours against the wall, despite his thin frame he had a power to him. Hands on your hips, holding you firmly in place. Your hips tried to roll against his anyway.
“Is it praise? I’ll sing your song until I’m blue in the face, until my lungs give out just tell me what you need.” You whined. 
His head shook softly, thumb pulling down on your chin to open your mouth. “It isn’t that simple. It’s not something you can say.” 
His tongue swiped over your own, neither in your mouths. He tasted like whiskey, bitter and fragrant. Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling his body against yours. You were vibrating; the way you always did when he was near you.
Kissing, tongues, body presses.  You were tangled together.
“This isn't… doing anything?” You asked, his lips coming to your neck. Sighing, your hand gripped his hair weakly. “That feels good.”
He shook his head into your skin, “I don’t see any desire to carry it further. But I enjoy it for what it is. And you seem to enjoy it. Is that enough for you?”
You wanted to scream, to argue, but as he pulled away and you stared up into his sharp honey brown eyes, you felt helpless to deny him anything. Did you need sex? Really? It’d been three months now without it and you were only recently clawing at the sheets with thoughts of Alastor. Being in his mouth was better than being strangers. Sliding fingers back into his hair and drawing him closer, your leg came up and hooked on his hip.
Alastor pulled you both from the wall and turned you, pressing your body into the sink. You were staring at your reflection, Alastor’s eyes meeting yours in the mirror, “I’m happy to do many things for you… just not exactly what you’re asking for; not right now. Not in this tiny dance hall bathroom.” 
His hand snaked up your chest and lightly held your neck, you fought back a moan.
“Well, if it’s good enough for your wife….” 
He laughed into your skin, other hand slipping down the front of your dress and cupping your crotch. “I’ve heard no complaints.” The way he anchored you, arms twisted and firm around such vital parts of you, made your whole body relax into his arms. A parachute safely secured around you as you fell. Mouth to your ear, hot and warm breath, “Turn around.”
Head spinning, you turned in his arms. Alastor lifted you up and onto the countertop of the sink, lips crashing back into yours.
The sound of music shook the thin walls of the room, heart erratic in your chest. His fingers slid up both thighs slowly, a familiar feeling for you now. His hands your favorite dance partner. 
His eyes didn’t leave yours as he dropped to his knees, your legs closing in embarrassment before he slid his hands between them. 
“Did you ask for more affection, dear?” He pushed your dress up around your waist, two fingers pulling the fabric of your panties to the side. You wanted to rip them off, damning your garters. You felt feverish as you watched him bury his face into your pussy. Your wetness was evident by how easily he glided through your folds. One hand gripped the counter, the other combing through his chestnut hair. Alastor kept his eyes on you, reading your face as he moved his tongue over your heat.
Mind racing for something clever to say, you opened your mouth but just gasped out his name as he sucked gently at your clit. One of your short heeled shoes you stressed over fell off as your knees came up around his head.
You were confident you made the right answer. With the music thumping along you didn’t feel any need to keep yourself quiet.
Your breathy moans and little hip rolls into his mouth made Alastor smile against your skin. He had learned many ways to keep people satiated. 
With a struggle, you opened your legs again allowing his tongue to drop down and into you. Nose rutting against your sensitive clit with every movement of his tongue in and out. 
A pounding on the door made you jump. 
“People are waiting!” Someone yelled.
Alastor pushed his tongue deeper, wriggling up and down against your twitching walls. Your head fell forward, “Alastor-,” you choked.
He buried his nose into your muff, eyes closing.
The door knob rattled, “Hello!”
“Alastor.”
So warm. Your body was so warm on his face. Your smell was making him feel feral. Gluttony. The way you were twitching and heaving under his tongue, groaning his name. Had he ever felt so powerful while on his knees? Had he ever enjoyed someone else’s body in such a bloodless way? No. Decidedly not.
“We’re gonna get the key!” The man at the door said.
“Okay, okay, affection received.” You patted his head, pushing him away by his forehead. “Don’t need to end the night in a paddy wagon.”
Alastor’s tongue was still out, eyes glossy as he looked up at you.
For the briefest second you considered wrapping your thighs back around his head and waiting for the key.
You hopped off, grabbing your shoe and leaning to get it back on. Crouching down you kissed Alastor’s nose and wiped his chin clean with your handkerchief before pushing it into his shirt pocket. “Up, up!” Hand in hand you barreled out of the door before the staff could see you and rushed to the furthest corner of the hall.
When you stopped and looked back you saw a staff member looking around annoyed, a man putting his hands up and entering the bathroom with a huff.
Before you could say anything, compliment or scolding, a woman was in front of Alastor. Your hand slid from his naturally. 
“I am so sorry. Are you the host of that jazz show?” The woman had her hands in front of her, nervously twisting the handle of her purse, “Sorry if you’re not! You just look like the description, tall… handsome… cute glasses.”
You turned around, partly acting like you didn’t know him at all and partly hiding the way your face twisted. Unsure what exactly you two were doing, you didn’t want to create hassle for either of you.  Alastor laughed, “The very same! Alastor, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” With your back turned you couldn’t see the woman’s face, but she made a barely audible squeak. 
While you were eavesdropping, a man offered you his arm. Your hand slipped to Alastor’s back, giving him a touch as you slid into the strangers arms for a dance.
He turned around to see you hit the floor and smiled, returning to the fan before him. After a few more compliments about his voice and his appearance, the woman shrunk a little, “Are you free tonight? I don’t have an escort home…”
A hum, soft smile, “Ah, I would love to see a fan safely home. But, alas, I am here with someone.”
What an easy excuse. It was nice to not need to lie.
“I see…. Oh, uh, your glasses… here, they’re a little smudged,” she offered him her handkerchief but he declined, pulling yours from his pocket.
“Danced too hard?” She chuckled, trying to elongate the conversation.
Alastor hummed, fogging the glasses before wiping them clear. “Eating, actually.”
“Oh you’re a messy eater, huh?”
“So I’ve been told.” He folded the square into a triangle and returned it to his pocket.
“What a… delicate handkerchief.” She looked at the soft yellow fabric and saw your yellow dress twirling behind him. “Ah. Well….It was a pleasure to meet you.” The woman sheepishly excused herself, letting him watch you dance around the floor with the stranger.
He’d never so explicitly told anyone his proclivities as he had done with you. Growing up he learned quickly his interests misaligned with other young men, but he didn’t really understand it well enough until he entered his early 20s and had to learn skills his peers didn’t. A man can only turn down so many offers for sex before people begin to question him. Certain rumors could be downright dangerous. 
Your eyes kept returning to him, your smile meeting you eyes as you twirled. 
While he had bed a number of partners, it was more often than not the result of physical reactions and what felt like necessity. The few times he genuinely felt he could enjoy in indulging in carnal pleasures he found himself utterly alone. He enjoyed dating, necking, kissing, but he could only keep some people so happy for so long. Quite a few women assumed marriage would solve the issue, and pushed him. Which made the inevitable break up easier. 
His reputation was that of a rake now. The popular host who rarely dates but often canoodles.
He laughed to himself, if rumors spread of his recent antics with you he’d be practically blacklisted from certain clubs. Alastor watched you graciously leave your dance partner and hop up to him. If he were any other man, you’d throw your arms around him and make him swoon for you. But he was Alastor. Your confusingly respectful killer. So you stopped yourself, instead offering him a smile.
“I wasn’t aware you were a radio host.”
“You never did ask my job.” You both walked back to the table where his jacket was lying in the booth seat.
“Honestly did not care. Which is unusual for me. Normally my first question to men is what they do for work.” You tried to avoid looking at the bathroom before settling back into your seat beside him.
He lifted his hand and gestured for another round, “Should I be flattered or insulted?”
“Oh definitely flattered. There were much more interesting aspects to you.” There was a little space between you, a foot or so of emptiness. 
You scooted closer, Alastor glancing to you before shifting his legs and closing the last few inches of distance. Thigh touching thigh, you sat silently while your drinks were poured and brought to your table. 
“To sinning,” you offered a real toast, Alastor laughing his signature laugh and raising his glass.
“To sinning!”
His hand came to rest on yours, both settled on your lap under the table. Your cheeks were hurting, desperately trying to keep your smile looking demure and not stupid-school-girl-in-love. His fingers folded into yours, and you entirely lost the plot, face melting into a lovesick grin.
Alastor leaned into you, “Are you alright? Liquor already gone to your head?”
You squeezed his hand, “Different kind of intoxication, doll.”
The evening was, in a word, divine. You danced with reckless abandon and enjoyed various degrees of affection. You were surprised to see Alastor so open, you had pegged him as less wanting to draw attention to himself. But no, he clearly relished in making heads turn.
He offered you a ride, and this time you took it. You didn’t live far, you just wanted a little more time. When he stopped the car, you jokingly turned around and looked into the trunk. 
“We’re very alone.” You mused. He hummed an agreement, getting out of the car and opening your door.  “Wow and a gentleman.”
“A testament to my mother. If you’re comfortable, give me a wave from the window when you get in.” He closed your door behind you. 
“I don’t mind if you know where I live, you’ll have easier opportunities to kill me, I’m sure of it.” Placing two hands on his chest, you leaned up, “Is a good night kiss too forward?”
Alastor stifled a laugh, “Quite! My image of you is shattered.” before leaning down to meet your lips.
When in the apartment you turned on a light and went straight to the window. Leaning against his car with both hands in his pockets, Alastor was smiling up at you. With a wave from you, he got back into his car and left.
To say you were on cloud nine would be an understatement. Clouds couldn’t carry the weight of your joy. You’d fall to the ground like lead, regardless of the cloud classification. And with that feeling you went to bed smiling, unaware of the dark catalyst barreling towards you.
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows
ADIF @multifandomfanatic02 ,
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
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multifandomgirl08 · 5 months
Text
Give and Take (Kind of Love We Make) [Mini Verstappen Series]
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Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)
Summary: Max had a plan in his head for the evening. He had mapped out the track before, and intended to keep to his strategy until they got home.
Warning(s): 18+, Implied sexual content, okay maybe it's more than implied.
A/N: Thank you Anon for your request. I hope you like it! It's a little more than steamy but I couldn't help myself as I was working on it.
Title from the song I Get Off by Halestorm
There is a short morning after continuation in the reader's POV here.
Words: 2.8k
Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist
Nico would be spending the night at Lando’s since he and Y/N were having date night tonight. He was in the process of dropping Nico off before going back home.
"Nico," Max said while Lando was in the other room. Nico had run over to Max and hugged his legs.
"Take care of Uncle Lando." Max wasn't concerned about Nico spending time with Lando. He was concerned that Lando wouldn't know what to do with Nico aside from letting him eat junk food and watch cartoons past his bedtime.
"Max," Lando started to say walking out from the guest room in his apartment. "He'll be fine. I'll make sure that the kid is in bed by midnight."
Max gave Lando a knowing glare.
"10 o'clock?"
Max made sure to look him right in the eyes this time. He and Y/N never let Nico stay up past 9 on a weekend.
"Fine, 9." Lando looked slightly defeated.
Max kissed Nico on his forehead, "Mama and I will pick you up in the morning."
Nico gave a quick nod back.
“No sugar after 8 Lando,” He warned. Lando just nodded and smiled at him. The Brit was going to regret not listening to him.
It only took Max half an hour to drive home. As he walked through the front door of the house, he could hear Y/N from her office that was on the far end of the living room. Probably on the phone with a client or one of her co-workers. He glanced down to his watch, to see that it was only 4:45, and they didn’t have to be at the restaurant until 8.
Max had made his way downstairs to the master bedroom to take a quick shower. If Y/N wasn’t out of her office by the time he was out he could get on the sim for a while, or play Call of Duty online until he had to get dressed.
He was quick about his shower, washing his hair and body. When he got out of the shower he considered shaving but then decided not too. His facial hair looked like it was turning into a full beard if he let it grow out a little more. He discarded his towel into the hamper, walking to his closet to rummage through his drawers for clean underwear, shorts and a shirt. As he was sliding his shorts over his legs he could hear footsteps coming down the stairs.
He poked his head out of the closet to see Y/N walking into the room with her phone in her hand before dropping it onto the sheets of the bed.
“How was dropping Nico off?” She asked.
“Lando didn’t listen when I told him about Nico’s schedule.”
“Then he can deal with the consequences of him not going to bed.” She had slipped into her closet while Max moved to the other doorway that connected to the bathroom.
“How much do you want to bet he’ll call Daniel if he has trouble?” Max knew that Lando would need help.
“I don’t think you give him enough credit.” Max knew right away that she was just saying that to rile him up a bit.
“A bet then?” He asked.
“Pick up duty next week?” He would take that bet.
That seemed fair. He knew that Y/N had to work late next week, so if Lando didn’t need help with Nico, Max could take care of picking up Nico next week.
“And what do I get if I win?” He asked. She only looked at his eyes and he knew that if he was right, it would only be a matter of when he wanted something, not what it would be.
“Deal.” Max kisses her, pulling her into his chest, her hands settling at his sides before he slowly moved away from her. He left her standing there until he heard the shower turn on.
He left the bathroom and made the short walk to the room where his racing sim was. He set up iracing for a quick session. By the time the session would end, he could log off and get dressed and would still be ready to leave before Y/N.
Gianni and Enzo were online and they ran through a quick session. As they were all finishing out the session Max looked at the time on the corner of one of the screens on his sim to see it say 6:28. He was quick about saying bye to the guys, but not quick enough that he didn’t catch Gianni teasing him about his dinner plans before he logged off.
His bare feet against the hardwood floors carried him back to the bedroom, to Y/N sitting on the bed with her hair and makeup already done. She had her robe on, one sleeve was sliding down her arm as she was checking her phone.
Max’s eyes moved up her arm to her exposed neck for a few moments. His eyes moved up her face momentarily seeing her lips covered in red lipstick. The sound of the clang of something against the nightstand made him blink. He caught her eyes, and the small smile that spread over her lips.
Max was quick to disappear into his closet, pulling out black slacks, a white button up, and black dress shoes. As he was getting dressed he kept catching little peeks of Y/N as she pulled on her clothes. Taking hangers out to look at clothes before he saw her settle on a dark blue dress that complimented her skin. He had just shoved his wallet into his pants when he could hear her footsteps against the marble floor.
“Maxy, can you zip me up?” She asked. He looked up to see her standing there in a form fitting dress that hugged her perfectly.
He gave her a nod, and she turned around to see that she had managed to pull the zipper up some of the way. He pulled it up the rest of the way before kissing the back of her neck, where the necklace she was wearing was clasped together.
He could feel her melt under him for a moment, “We have reservations at 8.” She hummed.
“I know,” He whispered into her ear. “I made them.”
It would have been easy to persuade her out of the dress and to just order dinner, but he wanted to take her out. There was a foreplay-like aspect about sitting in a crowded restaurant, and having to wait it out until they got home.
Max had a plan in his head for the evening. He had mapped out the track before, and intended to keep to his strategy until they got home.
She turned around in his arms, kissing him with her hands now in his hair, and he could feel that she was trying to push him up against the closest wall to get her way.
“Mijn leeuwin,” He started to maul against her lips. His hand moved low, finding the slit that was cut in her dress. His hand started to move up, slowly caressing her skin with his fingers. He kept his feet grounded in the marble flooring before forcing their lips apart.
He looked at her to see her pupils blown wide, and her lipstick a small mess. “After dinner.” He muttered. He knew what she was trying to do and it wouldn’t work on him.
He pecked her on the lips quickly before disappearing into his closet to put the rest of his clothes on. He could hear her let out a frustrated huff from the bathroom, before he heard the clicking of heels against the marble.
It didn’t take Max long to put shoes on. When he had walked out of the bathroom, Y/N’s makeup looked perfect, like he hadn’t kissed her and wrecked her lipstick just because she let him. They had left the house before 7, and Max had his hand on her thigh the entire time he was driving. The restaurant was a 45 minute drive, and by the time they were a few minutes away Max let his hand venture up a bit high on her leg. He could feel her eyes on him, but he kept his eyes on the road.
He wanted her to do her best to force him out of the restaurant after they ate while he acted as the perfect gentleman.
When they pulled up to the restaurant, Max got out of the car first before walking over and opening her door to help her out of the car.
Once they were inside, the hostess saw them and took them to a table that was closed off to most of the restaurant. Max let Y/N sit first before a waiter pulled out his chair for him so he was sitting next to her.
They ordered drinks quickly, Max with his normal Gin & Tonic, and Y/N with her usual. Conversation was light before their drinks came. They were quick to thank the waiter.
“Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen.” The waiter said with a half nod.
Max reached over kissing the back of Y/N’s hand, and saw the sparkle of her diamond ring reflected in the candle on their table.
“I’m still getting used to being called that.” She said to him after the waiter left.
“I’ll make sure to call you that more often,” No one that they knew really called her that. Pierre would throw it out there every once in a while.
They had been looking over the menus, and Max’s eyes had fallen to the appetizers when he felt something smooth press into the leg of his dress pants. It was probably the side of her shoe running up and down his calf. Max looked past his menu to see Y/N had a small smile on her face with her eyes running over the menu, she must think she was being clever.
“Kitten, that won’t work.” He managed to get out before the waiter came back. Their eyes met before shifting over to the waiter.
He asked if they were ready to order, and Max was just about to answer when Y/N had dropped her hand into his lap and gave his upper thigh a squeeze.
“Give us another moment to look at the menu.” She cooly said while Max gave the waiter a tight smile. Max had half a mind to leave a hundred on the table, take her hand and leave.
Max waited until the waiter left again giving both of them a curt nod. Max placed the menu down before dropping his hand under the table, and ran his fingers over her thigh before finding the slit in her dress once again.
He leaned towards her, running his nose over the shell of her ear, and moving his hand closer to her core. He could feel her slightly shudder against his hand.
“If you don’t stop, I will take you home.” He promised through gritted teeth. He quickly moved his hand away after.
He gave it another 10 minutes before she tried reaching towards his waist. After that Max made a quick move for his wallet, leaving a hundred dollar bill on the table and grabbing Y/N’s hand. Too bad for her that she would have to suffer through the car ride back to the house.
They were rushing out of the restaurant after paying the bill. Max gave the valet a 20 dollar tip before collecting the key to his Aston Martin. The drive back to the house would have felt quick if it wasn’t for Y/N’s hand on his thigh running over the fabric of his slacks.
He tried to keep his focus on the road, and was grateful when he finally got to the gate to the house. Y/N was quick to get out of the car once it was parked, walking in front of him with a distinct sway of her hips before making her way through the side door.
Max got out of the car and followed her through the door before he saw her place her shoes to the side in the entryway. He tossed his keys onto the console with his jacket falling over them. He pushed his shoes off letting them pile up under it.
His eyes fell to Y/N’s bag ended up on top of his jacket. She stepped close to him, his hands went to her waist. Her hands slowly moved towards him, settling in the middle of his chest. He dropped his head just a bit letting their lips meet.
He tightened his grip, crushing the delicate fabric in his hands. Her hands slowly moved up and quickly settled in his hair. He started to search for the zipper that he knew was on the back of the dress, getting frustrated when he couldn’t find it, and let a whine slip past his lips.
He felt one of her hands drop from his hair, and took his hand in hers to show him where the zipper was. He pulled away from her letting their lips fall away before opening his eyes to look into hers. The zipper was easy to undo, but he couldn’t look away from her.
“It took you over an hour to get ready just for me to take it all off of you.” He teased.
He saw a light flush reach her cheeks before the dress fell from her frame and pooled around her feet.
She stood there in black lingerie and diamonds. From there Max made quick work of undoing the buttons of his shirt, and she even helped him undo the last few, as laughter fell from both their lips before the shirt ended up on the growing pile of clothes.
Their feet led them into the living room, in a mess of lips, tangled limbs and moans that double paned glass couldn’t muffle. Max let out an audible hiss feeling her nails pressing lines down his back as they moved as one.
Max couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled her outside with him until he was sitting on the couch, and had her sit in front of him. She melted against the side of his chest, and reached for the waist of his pants, undoing the button and zipper before forcing them down his legs the best she could. He kicked them off. He felt her lips on his neck right after and he couldn’t help but reach for her, fully pulling her into his lap.
“You always get like this.” He said, rolling his hips into hers.
“That’s because I need you.” She muttered, pulling away from his neck looking into his eyes. “Always.”
Their lips met once more, and it wasn’t long before the last of their clothes ended up discarded by the couch. The night sky being the only thing that shielded them from the rest of the world.
A while later, Max laid there with his back against the cushion of the couch that was in the backyard. Y/N was curled up against his chest with her leg thrown over his hip, and his right hand settled on her left thigh. He laid a kiss on her forehead, and tried not to groan at the feeling of his back hurting from where she had dug her fingernails into his back. He knew that when he woke up in the morning the red lines would still be there to remind him.
“Maxy,” She said with her head tucked under his chin.
He hummed into her hair as a response as he mindlessly traced random shapes into the bare skin of her back.
“Thank you for taking me out for dinner.” She said tucking a sweaty piece of his hair away from his forehead.
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Verstappen.” He whispered into her ear. She was quick to pull him into another kiss before shifting in his lap. Max had followed her with his left hand on her lower back, feeling her sit up, and let out a groan that was building up in the bottom of his throat as she pulled away from him reaching for something. 
He didn’t want her shifting in his lap while he was still inside of her. He opened his eyes to her, shifting her hips down, opening a blanket and settling it over both of them.
“Thought I was going somewhere?” She asked. He just nodded.
He didn’t want to move from where they were on the couch but he had gained quite an appetite. Eventually, they pulled away from each other long enough for him to walk back inside for her phone and order pizza from the Italian place that closed at midnight. They vegged outside while eating, splitting the pizza and a tiramisu feeding each other bits and pieces.
Max placed the blanket that was over them on her shoulders and took her hand, walking through the backyard to the french doors that led to the master bedroom.
They ended up entangled around one another, not caring about their lack of clothing, with the sheets kicked off towards the edge of the bed by the early hours of the morning.
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Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen
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kaszuma · 3 months
Text
Aera Perennius | Hoshina Soshiro
Part 7 of “Certainly Yours”
pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader
summary: soshiro was never one to raise his voice at anyone. But the one time he did, it was because he almost lost you for good.
warnings: Slight Kn8 Manga Spoilers, Description of Pain / Injuries / Hospitalizations, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Arguments, Cursing, Slight mention of self-harm
wc: 9,793
note: I finiahed it earlier than anticipated so here you go-- I had such a difficult time writing this because I've been so busy. There were so many changes and the original draft had been scrapped so many times that it almost made me want to give up and start over. But lucky I didn't or I would've not updated in time. So, yay!
English is hard haha and sometimes it hates me and just doesn't make sense when I read it in my mind versus when I read it outloud. Anyways I will be doing slower updates, so no definitive dates nor titles for the next parts yet. But Part 8 and 9 will be back-to-back spicy NSFW stuff (courtesy of reaching 200 Followers. Thank you lots by the way), So stay tuned!! This is not proofread. So if I missed any warnings feel free to tell me. 🫶
Sleep had come naturally to you.
The sound of rapid footsteps and muffled yelling had all but faded into the distance as mere whispers against your ears.
Such rapidness did not seem to fit the silence of what had initially surrounded you. The sudden weight of your own body being dragged left and right until your vision blurs. The stark darkness of city skylines transformed into the unnatural shine of the hospital's fluorescent lights; one that made it hard to pick people's silhouettes apart.
And as such, it reminds you of the distant past.
One that was filled with vast open fields, very unlike the corporate labs you had been accustomed with. A stark contrast to the very corners of Japan, in the countryside where your grandparents had established a simple life for themselves. Filled to the brim with rice crops and summer cicadas.
And it makes you reminisce about the short time you'd spend there. On the cool nights after your summer school days would inevitably end. And you'd be dragged to a summer house where cousins and relatives had doted on you.
Such a homeward bound place was a far cry to the bustling streets of Tokyo's Eastern divisions. Which had often been endowed with the familiar cries of loud music and the steady rumbles of heavy railways underneath you.
One that Kaiju had lamented no peace from.
Even in the midst of high-story buildings where your workplace had boasted the use of sound proof walls. The cityscapes nearest Izumo Tech Corporation could not even be muzzled by its titanium doors, of which Japan's Top Secret Bioweapons had been kept. Schematics and all.
You had grown used to such a taciturn work environment.
Your existence is thrown into the small bubble of your private lab. Segregated from your coworker who valued work over social relations. And you had been much the same.
You and the rest of the technicians were far too focused on your projects. Tinkering away at the prototype suits that the company had sent your way. A partnership between your parent company and Japan’s Defense Force. A task of which you and a few others had been selected to create and maintain.
And how lucky you had been, to land yourself a snug spot in the notoriety of the Third Division's wake. The very same division that had boasted the least amount of casualties in the case of a large-scale Kaiju attack.
The very same division where Mina Ashiro had led and mounted into victory.
And you'd consider yourself lucky to have known such an amazing person in this lifetime.
For fate to have led her to you, you'd assume you've somehow accumulated some sort of good karma in your past life. The reward to you had been fresh in this new one. An action that had garnered some godly being to bestow upon you a chance to meet your soulmate.
You'd be remiss with disappointment if you hadn't met Soshiro Hoshina in this lifetime.
But prior to that. Before Ashiro had recruited you into her division, you had little to no contact with the officers on-field. Delegated to the simple task of sending blueprints in and out of Tachikawa's base should the time arise; begrudgingly in the early mornings of every month too.
Back then, you had befriended a bespectacled girl named Okonogi. Who wore a slightly bigger uniform than the rest of the recruits. A quirk of hers which you found rather amusing. She, who wholeheartedly believed she might still grow into the uniform that was two sizes too bigger than what was recommended of her.
And you had remembered the day you had met her too.
It was another typical day in your routine. Delivering notes to Captain Ashiro in and out of bases. Though this time, you had decided upon taking a detour. Seeing the empty spaces of the mess hall which granted you an opportune moment of grabbing some coffee.
And such a detour had led you upon the bespectacled girl. Your documents slipping from your very fingertips. And your other hand, which held the coffee mind you. Accidentally toppling over. Spilling the liquid against her pristine ivory lab coat. Staining it.
Lucky it had not been hot, or else that could've been an accident in the making.
“I am… so sorry about that.” Your eye catches the glimpse of her nametag, stained with a bit of caffeine. Okonogi was what it read. And you were already pulling out a handkerchief from your pocket. Intent on correcting the mistake you made.
“No, it's okay. Really.”
The sincerity in her voice made you visibly flinch. And you had half a mind to just shove her your wallet, a chance given to compensate her for the coat you ruined. But the look on her eyes was determined. Abrupt in the way she had declined you.
“Are you sure? Money shouldn't be a problem. I can definitely get you a better coat within the day..” You spoke with much guilt. And yet she insisted.
“No need, really! It's just a stain. Nothing a bit of bleach can't handle.” She moves lower with a smile, one hand tucked behind her knees as she tries to pick up the few folders scattered on the ground.
“-Lucky it didn't hit the documents! Or the Director would definitely have our heads for it.” Okonogi had surprisingly jested your way. And a small laugh bubbles between the two of you in turn. As if you had known each other for quite some time now.
“I suppose so.” You had spoken between giggles. The sentiment shared between the two had all but eased the tension of the room.
And the brunette had gingerly handed you the pile of documents that had been untarnished. Though, one in particular catches her trained eye.
It was a simple list of materials used for the next batch of combat suits to-be-made. Or at least, that was the pitch you had planned to present today. In the hopes that Mina Ashiro would give it enough attention and send it to command for a much more direct approval.
And Okonogi, who was a newbie at the time. Had known all too well of the budding genius you had been. A technician far too enraptured in improving Combat Suits and weapons catering for strange combat. One that did not conform to the normalcy of firearms which had modernized the era.
And it seems one of your papers in particular had caught her attention. Like a hammer against glass.
It was a series of notes and drawings involving bronze wires that resembled the muscle groups of a Kaiju's inner workings. All built into the combat suit that had been Izumo Tech's symbolic masterpiece.
And its Kaiju plating was as amazing as it was unconventional. Built to last no doubt in the wake of an ever evolving organization.
Okonogi could not help but stare at it. Admiring the artistry and engineering involved in such a concept.
“An idea of yours?” She asks. And you nod in turn. Surprised by the way she did not immediately question the schematics.
Normally you'd be met with strange looks. One that questioned the very ethics of your research for involving Kaiju parts into the combat suits.
But the Defense Force had long since been converting strong Kaiju into weaponry. And applying the same sentiments to a combat suit, should be no different. “That's right.”
“I was hoping to improve the current designs of the Combat Suits.” You admitted. “If it succeeds, it might help our soldiers a lot more. Survivability wise..I mean.”
And Okonogi smiles at this. A layer of irony mixed in with the few laughs that bubbled within her chest.
She knew how fragile lives can be. Especially in their line of work where they had faced massive enemies almost on a daily basis. And a battle of attrition against such monsters? It was never a pretty picture.
But still, it had been a rare sight to see one so dedicated with quality of life improvements. And it was as if Okonogi knew that she'd be able to trust you with such a task.
“Glad to see you working on it! People have been volunteering less and less these days. But if we had better tech, I'm sure our members would increase by a large margin.”
Her assurance made you nod. Already taking the paper from her hands and delicately sliding it back to the rest of the folders you held. Carefully standing as the both of you had come to smile at each other.
“If there's a chance it can save lives. There's no harm in trying. It's just a part of the job.”
“There's definitely a truth in that.” Okonogi remained positive with a dip to her head. Making her rimmed glasses slide gently from the bridge of her nose. A tilt in her head as she next spoke.
“-But, why use bronze by the way? Wouldn't steel or alloy be a better alternative?”
You had looked over to the notes peeking from your file. And a smile is etched on the very corner of your lips. Complacent in the way you had so easily looked at her, as if you knew something she did not.
“There's a saying you see.”
Okonogi tilts her head upward. Who had finally moved to fixate her gaze to you. Eyes meeting with the absolute tenacity and confidence at your craft. “...a saying?”
You nod. “They say that some people should seek things that are more lasting than bronze.”
“Does bronze not last very long?”
“Oh it does. But even in metals, people try to find something much better right?” Okonogi who had paused to think about your words. Had only nodded in turn. Your sentiment was a much more refreshing and positive take than she had imagined it to be.
“I intend to find that material. One that would make a monument more lasting than the lives we lost.”
And Okonogi’s breath hitches. And you had looked her in the eye, with a determination she was sure would last you a lifetime. “Even if that means I have to dissect a Kaiju and use its very skin as armor.”
A bit morbid for her take. But still, she couldn't help but admire your tenacity. It was the same sentiment she'd see with the soldiers. And somehow, it reminds her of a certain someone who was all smiles despite wielding a blade.
“I suppose most Kaiju do have a layer of tough skin..” She jested. And your shoulders shake with a bubbling smile. The start of a silly friendship perhaps, where Soshiro's eyes would soon flicker your way.
And somehow things just started to click into place.
You didn't know if it was fate. Had it been Okonogi or Mina Ashiro that led you to him. But it wasn't until a few weeks later, you had found yourself responsible for the Third's technical division. Overseeing much of the repairs and weapon upgrades needed for Kaiju slaying. And it was in that very same division where you had grown much closer to him.
A strange recruit, scouted from the Kansai district. Where Captain Ashiro had particularly shown a keen interest in. His skill in the blade had been incomparable to his peers. And although he boasted the highest individual body-count when it came to handling melee pursuits. You had once thought him stupid for sticking to a fighting technique that had long since aged from the existence of firearms.
But how wrong you had been in judging him for that.
Okonogi often reminded you not to be too harsh on him whenever the two of you had just so happened to meet. Jesting that you two would've made a stellar couple, had you both given each other a chance. And although you've denied such things a few times before, Soshiro would always take a glance at you as if reading the expressions on your face. Thoroughly investigating the subtle expressions you wore that would've reached his conclusion.
And each time after that, he too would answer for you. A denial. A white lie.
And Okonogi always saw through it of course. She had been there since the beginning. Serving cupid for the both of you.
And when she can, she had always been peppy in her step. Pushing the both of you in a particular direction. Waiting for one of you to make a move. Calculated like masters playing chess on a board. By far you two had been hopeless. If it wasn’t for Okonogi’s encouragement, Soshiro wouldn’t have thought to visit you between breaks. And how lucky you had been to have the girl pry him out of his skittish shell.
It’s a wonder you two had gotten together like this.
You had rarely seen the girl frown or be frustrated over anything. Let alone your own bite when it comes to Soshiro's mixed signals.
So it had been a sudden whiplash, seeing her so frightened above you. Her voice had been unusually drawled and shaky as she repeated your name. Trying to keep you awake despite the far off look you had in the depths of your irises.
Wait.
Why was it so blurry all of a sudden?
Where were you again?
Right.
You were injured. And from the look on her face, it was probably worse than you had realized. The trickle of an unfamiliar liquid slid down your forehead to the very height of your cheek. Where you could’ve sworn a clawed hand had been there to comfort you.
Larger than your own, and definitely plated with armor. Gently grazing the very skin of your cheek.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
It's starting to hurt. The pain on your lower back had suddenly hit you like a metric ton of weighted bricks. Like something jagged and sharp had punctured through you. A result from a bad fall.
“Sweetheart. Keep yer’ eyes open alright?”
You heard a deep rumble from the side. And your eyes pried away from Okonogi's disturbed features. Suddenly enamored by the wine red irises that looked at you as if you had gone through hell and back.
Had it really been that bad?
Last you checked, you were narrowly able to escape Kaiju's attacks. The flashes of its flaky features had encompassed your mind’s eye. And the ground below you had bellowed like a monster’s mouth. Suddenly ripping open as a shockwave had violently lifted you from your feet.
And like a leaf on a windy day, you were blown to the side. Crashing harshly against the window of a boutique. A stray shard puncturing your lower back to the point of near paralysis. And it leaves you barely conscious to see the not so lucky victims that tried to escape the Kaiju.
One group in particular had been crushed by the rubble of a building. And somehow the scent of blood and bones was enough to knock you out cold. Their downfall would’ve made you vomit, had you not been injured and too dizzy to think about it all.
And as morbid as it sounded, you had been fortunate enough to have only been thrown aside. Sacked into a world of pain which had reminded you that you were very much alive. It had been a miracle that Soshiro found you when he did. Despite the slight sprain on his ankle and the sores he felt in the muscles of his arms. He forced himself to run. Empowered to meet with you, ushered by the help of Number 10’s powers.
And like clockwork he was led straight to you. The fears he had once buried deep in the back of his brain had all came flooding through.
And he didn’t know what to do.
You heard a few voices then.
Although it was barely comprehensible, you could make out a few distinct ones from the array of shouts. Your name in particular was whispered in a prayer. Begging you not to fall asleep despite the odd temptation to. And sure enough, the back and forth argument you heard between two figures was enough to keep your mind and heart racing with urgency. The look between Okonogi and Soshiro’s face had all been so different than usual that it frightens you so.
But despite the noise, despite the shouting. You heard him in clear daylight. Like it had been the only voice in the room. Isolated from the rest who had rushed in a frenzy.
“I got ya’ alright? I’m here baby. I’m right here.”
His reassurances had blanked when his voice cracked. Desperate like he had been ready to cry. The way your name had escaped his lips was almost hesitant. As if he didn't deserve to call you out. And you wanted to stop him before his thoughts could drift further. But your voice had failed you when you needed it most. A soft cry escaping your lips instead.
I'm okay.
I'm here.
I'm alive.
All of that died the moment it tried to leave your throat. And without those very words. Soshiro's face was left to contort. As if he were the one in pain instead of you. And how he'd wished that were the case.
“Let me through!”
You heard him scream. And your eyes had focused just enough to see Okonogi and a few nurses blocking his pathway to you. Desperately trying to push past them despite the grievances.
The sight had been a blur.
One second your vision was fine. The next you had felt the telltale signs of drowsiness hit you. And you feel the way the pain medication had started to kick in when your eyes had isolated itself from the world. Your body’s exhaustion hits you squarely on the chest down to your very toes. And when you had been dragged to the next room over. Soshiro had been the last face you had seen before separation. Sleep pulling you over until your breath is taken from you in that instance.
Your name had been the only thing Soshiro could say afterwards.
“I said let me through–That's an order from your Superior Officer, Okonogi.” Soshiro had warned her. Voice uncharacteristically deep when issuing an order. It was normally never used in this way. Such a tone was only ever used to command Number 10 when he had been too stubborn to listen.
But the bespectacled girl knew better than to fan the flame. And in retrospect, she out of anyone would understand his frustrations the most. Yet she stood her ground. Gently shaking her head at her heated friend.
“Vice Captain.” Okonogi started. Hands already raised to try and calm him down. And she could see it in his eyes; the way it subconsciously followed the rolling bed they had put you in.
Dragging your bed into another room where only the best medical practitioners had worked on you. And yet despite that, he couldn't find it in himself to sit still. His gut sinking at the mere thought of you getting worse than when he had already found you in. And he was willing to bet Weapons 10 had all but read the blatant emotions he displayed on his sleeve. With or without having to delve into his mind.
He was in utter ruin just from your condition.
“-Please understand. You cannot, in under any circumstances enter the surgery room, sir.”
“To hell with that!”
The scream had made Okonogi frown. And Soshiro had half a mind to push past the smaller woman. And rush forward with Number 10's help. But he stopped midway. Reminding himself that his suit could go on a rampage at any time. And right now, he did not want to expose Okonogi and a handful of civilians to Number 10's war-ridden desires. His deep baritones had instead vanished for more firm ones. Unlike the resentment from prior. Oddly curt in his delivery.
“Move. Or I’ll do somethin’ drastic.” He steps forward.
A threat is a threat, and he hoped that would at least be enough to convince the bespectacled girl to move. Yet Okonogi had known him for far too long to actually perceive it as one. And she looks unfazed by his words.
“Sir please.” She pleaded. “It'll only worry you more.”
Her voice was gentle. Understanding even. It almost reminded him of the way you speak at times. Stern but with a hint of softness when it came to his stubbornness. And how he wished it was you he was talking to right now.
“Just please try to calm down. We should get your own wounds treated first and then we can-”
“Fuck no. I'm going in there and-”
“Hoshina.” The stern voice of their Captain had made them both flinch. And the heavy cleats of Mina Ashiro'a footsteps had gotten louder as she had made her way closer to the two.
“Captain Ashiro.” Soshiro had spoken with a much more leveled tone than he did earlier. Hand raising into a salute as the rest followed suit. Though even in his greeting, his frustrations had still been made entirely clear. And he was more than willing to face insubordination just to get to you. But Mina was one step ahead of him.
“Hoshina. You’re causing a disturbance and deliberately disrupting the medical wing from doing their job--I'd let you run some laps. But I can see you're injured.”
Soshiro had glanced down at his body, a light scoff emerging from his lips when she had noticed the way he stood, limping.
“Patch your own wounds up and we can discuss it later.”
And Soshiro had frowned at the way she immediately knew. A sixth sense perhaps that he had been getting sloppy. And sometimes he feared Mina Ashiro would kick him out of the Third because of it. But Mina made no such accusation, instead her eyes had been understanding.
Firm as they usually are, she, like Okonogi, was quite aware of your relationship with Soshiro. And by all means, she understood his sentiment.
Today had been a jumbled mess. And Soshiro was practically facing the very brunt of it all.
With you as its victim.
“But-”
“That's an order, Vice Captain. Do not make me repeat myself.” Her stern reply had been met with his half-meant glare. Red irises swirling with thoughts before ultimately concluding that Mina had been right. Okonogi too. He'd just been too stubborn to see it.
And for a good few seconds, he finally drops his own staring.
Reluctant as he had finally turned around. Facing Okonogi with a sort of defeated look in his eyes. Uncharacteristic to her as he'd normally be so cheery, even in the face of impending death.
He'd be thrown into a pit. And as long as he was still kickin’ he'd probably end up smiling and joking about it the next day.
This had definitely been a first for the two to witness.
And although Mina had not usually been the closest to Soshiro. He couldn't help but make an exception this time. She'd waive him of running laps, not as an officer. But as her friend. And a stern hand was placed squarely on his shoulder. Gently giving it a pat of reassurance. One that Okonogi would follow up with her own.
“It'll be okay. Right Captain?” Okonogi glanced between the two.
“That's right. I'll see to it personally that she gets the best care. For now, get yourself patched up–That'll be the punishment you get for speaking to your superior officer.” She awkwardly spoke. Though a small reassuring smile had cracked on the face of her usually hardened expressions.
And such a sentiment from both the girls had silenced him before he could think of another protest to answer with.
“understood.” He begrudgingly spoke. His hand balling into tight fists at the possibility that you'd wake up without him by your side.
Bronze was made to last, yet it wasn't exempt from tarnish after all.
“Good. I'll inform you shortly once her treatment is done–Okonogi.”
“Yes?” Her reply had been immediate.
“Make sure his wounds are treated. And, I expect a detailed report on Number 10's latest excursion later.”
“Roger.” Okonogi had saluted. And Soshiro watched her as she slowly walked past them. Entering the very same room where he had not even had the chance to take a glimpse in.
His arms had gently felt the pull to another direction. Okonogi had done well at Mina's request as he had all but dragged his feet further away from the blaring red lights of the operating room.
And the flicker of your sleeping face was all that’s left before he too was separated somewhere else.
A place where he was left to wonder what will become of you. And for a moment, his distinct thought was a scenario where he hadn't met you.
If only he hadn't asked you out that day..things would've turned differently.
Right?
Your eyes blew wide open. The strangled breaths you took were caught on your throat as you could smell the bitter antiseptics nip the back of your nostrils. It reminded you of a hospital. That of which you had the unpleasant experience of having to frequent anytime Soshiro would come back to base injured.
Often you'd be on the other side of his bed. A frown on your face as the condition of his health had been on the top of your mind. And each time with a smile, he'd make a joke to ease the tension in the room. A signal to indicate he had been alright. Despite the lack of words you two would exchange.
Habitually it was you unharmed. You left to worry at his bedside.
So it had been a rare sight indeed, to find yourself on the opposite side of the spectrum.
Laid in thin hospital robes. Connected to a needle of an IV drip. The constant flow of medicine made you drowsy and your thoughts jumbled into a mesa of numbness. And if you had looked at the amount of bandages wrapped around your torso you'd surely start squirming in place.
But just when you were about to scrutinize the heavy onset of your heartrate’s monitor. The blaring sound was all but silenced when you heard the familiar tremors of his voice. Smooth and soft, like you had always heard them as.
“Yer’ finally awake.”
You turned to his direction. Bright eyes had met his own which had been as familiar as it was squinted. His irises were more crystalline and tired than usual. Puffy on the corners, like he hadn't been given a chance to get a good night’s sleep between your hospitalization.
And yet, despite the unfamiliarity of his somber tone; the despondent frowns he'd make.
His voice had been the sound you missed the most.
“Soshiro..” You croak out. Voice dry like someone had stuffed cotton down your throat. And you try your best to scoot closer. To move and stand like you had always done when faced towards him. But this greeting would cut short. Hands restrained by firm bandages and hollow tubes that weighed heavily on your skin. And you hadn't realized the mumble of a barely audible whimper from your mouth. One that Soshiro could not miss even if he tried to.
Soshiro noticed the way you had squirmed. Struggling to sit up. Which made him all the more vigilant. And he ends up closing the small leatherbound book he'd always brought with him. Sinking it back on his pocket where you had been accustomed to seeing it.
Walking much closer to you in an attempt to calm and shush you.
“Where are we?” You asked him. And his fingers hesitantly graze your cheek. The same way when you had blood trickling down it moments prior. “Base. The Medical wing took ya’ in.”
His words were oddly curt in delivery. And although the average person who knew Soshiro on a surface level could probably not tell. You were able to differentiate the distinct way his voice had sounded odd. Such sentiments laid rather clearly for you. And you can see the layer of guilt etched on his stiff face.
“Okonogi?” You inquired. And he gives you a nod.
“Safe. I'll call her for ya’ later so she doesn't worry.” and you let out a breathless sigh. Your head slumping against the cushion of the soft pillow. The lingering feeling of glass and cement on you had all been but a pipe dream now. A memory that you'd soon forget.
And how Soshiro wished it was that easy for him to forget.
“How are you feelin? I can call the nurse for ya if anything hurts.” He moves to turn around.
Eyes already searching for the small caller that was given to him in case of emergencies. Though your hand, as painful as it felt, had pulled him in. Weak fingertips grabbing the sleeves of his jacket to refuse him. Your eyes remained squinted as they were sharp despite the fatigue. And you caught the glimpse of bandages wrapped around his skin. A stark testament to the rest of his unblemished face.
“What happened?” You had immediately tried to get up. Alert in the way you had wanted to reach out and inspect his own injuries. But the fatigue of your body had stopped you. Causing you to slump forward and unto his willing arms who had been cautious in the way he handled you.
“Easy. You're still…not well.” Soshiro gently nudged you back down. Hand placed squarely on your chest to ease you into the pillow. But you stubbornly persisted. Compromising by sitting up against the bed's headboard instead.
“That doesn't matter. What's more important is, what happened to you. Are you alright?”
“That doesn't matter? Are you seriously askin’ me that right now?” For a moment you mistake his scoff for a laugh. His hands which had held you firmly had just as quickly left leaving the spot on your skin cold and yearning for his proximity.
Had you said something wrong? This aggression was unlike him.
Soshiro was rarely this agitated. And your voice couldn't help shrivel in meek irritation. Unsure whether you should respond back with much the same turbulence.
“Should I…not be asking you that?” You spoke unsure. And he shakes his head in turn.
“You were dead-still for five days straight and yer tellin’ me THAT doesn't matter right now?”
You didn't know how else to reply. The way his tone had shifted into a scoff had made you double back to glare at his face. For once since you awoke, you truly saw how tense he had been. Gone was his usual suave smile that made you laugh or cry in between meetings.
He had been too worried to focus on that. But you had been too frustrated at this sudden change. That it made your voice come more forcefully than you anticipated. “Well isn't it obvious? I'm worried about you.”
You replied. Your own expression had squished into rapid vexation. And you see the way he takes a few steps back, too far for your touch to reach. And it pained you that you couldn't just stand up and make him face you like you usually could.
“And you think I don't feel the same!?” He spoke loudly. Causing your shoulders to flinch in turn. One he had regretted as soon as he spoke. And yet, he continued.
“You don't think..that I didn't nearly kill myself when I found you bleeding in the middle of that goddamn street?” He pointed out the window.
And your expression had turned liquid at the images that flash in your mind. Imagining how he had found you. His thoughts, his expressions..you could only imagine the torment he felt the moment he found you. Barely breathing.
His breaths came in gasps. Eyes widened so that you can clearly see the crimson of his eyes peeking through. And suddenly you notice the way Soshiro had oddly been so vulnerable in front of you. The quips on your sore throat began to die down when you saw how frustrated–how fearful he had looked in the moment. And gods did you wish you woke up sooner just to comfort him.
“No–that’s not what I meant. I only wanted to know if you were okay. Is it so wrong to ask?”
“Well maybe ya’ shouldn't have asked at all.” He huffed out. Looking away from you with regret lingering on his features.
It was stupid. He thought To get so frustrated over something so tiny. But as much as Soshiro Hoshina excluded the guise of a proper adult. He had been flawed just like the rest of everyone else. And he'd be lying if he didn't have his moments of doubt. Often scrutinizing in the lonely privacy of his home. Where he knew no one would bother him.
That is of course, before you had entered his life.
But not everything was understood between the two of you. Okonogi was a witness to the piles of misunderstandings you both had caused. And without help you two were likely never to get along, habitually falling for the same skittish routine you had played at.
But a miracle happened. With him belonging to you. And you belonging to him.
So why was it that your heart cramped so much? Surely it was not the pains of a physical injury. Let alone a type of sickness.
Instead it was struck by simple bad habits and insecurities. One of which even you had trouble dealing with. And the loud firmness of his voice had made such an impact on your heart that you began to frown. Unable to hold back your bite.
“What is your problem!?” You started. “Listen, can we just please have this conversation some other time. And then we can-”
“And then we can, what? Do you want me to just sit here and forget that all happened?” He had interjected.
And suddenly you feel your brows knit tightly. Eyes feeling heavy from the burst of a headache you had gotten. Of all the times Soshiro wanted to argue, it's the time you had just woken up.
But he wasn't entirely unjustified.
There have been plenty of moments where you had fanned the flames of a fire that should've ended right then and there. Your word choice is poor and your temperament less than ideal.
For as frustrated as you had been, you understood Soshiro's sentiments. And your hands had raised as a sort of white flag. Not needing this fight to escalate more than it should.
Not when you were both injured and all you wanted to do was crawl into his arms.
“-Listen Soshiro, I didn't mean to upset you. I only wanted to know if you were okay.”
“Does that matter?” He repeats your own words. And you had to hold back another jab of acknowledgement. Smart in the way he played his words. It almost made you want to laugh. But this time, your intent came from sincerity.
And his small play of mockery had been a sight for sore eyes, since you had quickly gotten the gist of what he had been trying to convey. Wrong in your choice of words. This time, you correct your mistake. Sincerity and all.
“Yes it matters. More than anything– of course it matters.” You had told him. And you see the way Soshiro’s mouth quivers into a small tremble. Uncanny when he'd normally be so laid-back and sweet when it came to you.
And how you'd wish he just took a breather and relaxed. Maybe take a break so that they could talk things out. Without yelling preferably. But that had not been possible. At least not just yet from the way he replied.
“Well had I not made it in time, you woulda’ been dead. Do you hear me?”
“And yet, Here. I. Am. A witness to your unwarranted behavior.”
“Behavior that's justified because I shouldn't have let you outta my sight.”
Silence had followed soon after. Your mouth gapes for a moment to think of a reply when the words slip past your lips. And Soshiro would note how uncharacteristic that was, even for you. He, who was always used to your quick replies and clever jabs. But it seems his words had cut too far this time.
And he pried his eyes away from you. Chest heaving as he ran a hand through his face. “I shouldn't have..”
He composed himself. Clearing his throat whilst you looked at him with an etched frown on your face. One that he wished would go away. But he had been the cause of this.
He had been the one to make your smile go away. And it somehow makes him feel even worse.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. I just-”
“Soshiro.” Your voice sounded like bells. And when he looked up, relief had immediately sagged his shoulders upon seeing your gaze blown wide open. Not at all restrained by the pain medication and exhaustion you had felt.
And your hand had gently reached up to grab his own. Gentle in the way her thumb caressed his knuckle which had been previously so bruised and bloodied.
And although there was a struggle to reach for his hand. Your touch was met halfway. Gently threading your much softer skin that would've paled in comparison to a blanket had he not taken glances.
“What happened back there wasn't your fault. We couldn't have known that the Kaiju would follow me back to the shelter.” You whisper. And Soshiro's expression had turned serious. Like he held a weight that you couldn't possibly fathom even if you tried.
“And yet I let it slip away.”
“I let it get to you, and now you're in here because of me.” He had wanted to so badly pull away from you. To walk himself out before he could be tempted to lean back into those pretty eyes of yours. But the moment he met your sight.
Those sad eyes of yours had been his journey's end. And he couldn't do that to you. Not when your expression had frustratingly asked him to stay.
“And yet it was also because of you that I'm still alive and breathing, Soshiro.” You reasoned. “You don't give yourself enough credit. If it hadn't been for you I would've been-”
“Dead.” He cut you off. “You would've been dead.”
“No. You wouldn't have allowed that. You're the Vice Captain, remember? If there's anywhere safer for me, it's by your side.” You didn't know whether such assurances had really made him listen. The way he was assured in that answer of his wasn't a mere fortnight conclusion. It was as if he had been thinking of such consequences for a much longer time, and that alone makes your heart sink.
So you scooted closer. Moving in to try and pull him down so that you could wrap your arms around his neck. And just when you were snaking it through his shoulders. His hands had stopped you midway.
His calloused palms holding on to the points of your elbows as he gently pries you off of him.
Normally this would be met with your pout. Maybe another bout of force just let the stubborn man look your way. But you had been too weak, still healing from an injury you had no control over. And his response is far too swift for your liking. Leaving your arms missing the warmth his body could provide you.
“No, no, no, no, no–no. You don't understand. I don't deserve to be anywhere near you right now.” He had managed to convince himself. Looking away as the anxiety within you had spiked upon his words.
“Soshiro. Listen to me we can-”
“What I’m saying is that we're done here.”
You had blinked. Looking up at him who had towered above your bed. A somber look on his expression despite the daunting words he had spoken. He looked passive. Unaffected even. Like he had been ready for this moment which had been planned for a long time coming. And your voice could only muster a feeble whisper.
“What do you mean we're done?”
“It's over.” Soshiro continued. Not once paying your face any heed. Lest he change his mind from doing you a greater good he deemed correct. “I don't want anything to do with ya’ anymore.”
If this had been a dream you would've laughed at the way he delivered such a sentiment.
You'd somehow suppress the inner workings of your shock and you'd wake up to find the morning documents you promised yourself to do; in the desk untouched where it usually had been.
And by the time you left your room, you'd habitually laugh it off and tell Soshiro about it in the afternoon just to get a chuckle and light scolding out of him. The usual banter that admittedly, had always been the highlight of your day.
But this had not been a dream.
And hearing him say that. Had hurt more than you anticipated it seemed. And your voice cracks before you can even register yourself speaking.
"Is this because you think I can't love you?" The sudden appearance of tears had painted your face. And you had tried to sniff away the bigger ones that threatened to spill over. But to no avail.
And Soshiro’s eyes widen at the telltale signs of your crying. An unexpected third party which had not been invited to the list of things he ought to do. And his head reels to face you once more. Seeing your face redden with a shame he'd never thought he'd see.
"Do you really think that I'm incapable of willingly loving you? Even beyond that fucking sword of yours-" And Soshiro had all but shook his head. Remorseful in the way tears had jerked from your eyes.
"That ain't the point!"
"Then what IS the point!?" Your tears had blurred your vision. And your hand had embarrassingly moved up to wipe it. One that Soshiro had wished to do for himself had he not been so stubborn.
“-What is the point if I can't make sense of you trying to leave me?"
The turmoil in your voice had been made present. One so encompassing that Soshiro couldn't ignore. And as much as it hurts you to scream. It hurt him to see you suddenly cry like this. Someone he associated as being so usually strong-willed, crumbling in a few short words from him. And suddenly, it feels as if he wants to swallow back his words. Mouth churned into regret when he had moved to take a step closer to you.
“Sweetheart, please..I-”
He shook his head. Suddenly finding himself kneeling down in front of your bed. And when your eyes had met his, it was as if his heart had stopped momentarily. Too focused on the way you had looked at him in desperation. Mixed with both physical and emotional pain.
And he had been the cause of that. Regrettably he knew he had been the cause of that.
"Is the idea of me loving you THAT terrible of a concept to you?" you spoke flimsily. Words betraying the tone you wanted to convey. And somehow you felt worse than when blood was unnaturally seeping out of your wound.
And his own body. One that betrayed his own commands, had a mind of its own. Strong arms wrapping around your bandaged ones that had still been healing from the minor cuts you had accumulated. And the warm steady beat of his heart had drowned you back into reality. Cheeks pressed against his and regrettably, soiling his jacket.
Not that he minded of course. Far too focused on wiping your tears away. Shushing you when you'd shudder from the breathless sniffles he'd been the cause of.
"Shit- no sweetheart no. I didn't mean it."
“I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” His instant apologies and regrets had echoed for a few moments. The sudden urge to calm you down had him reeling just to caress your shoulders. Weary of the injuries you were faced with as you cried in his arms.
And the struggling shudders you were faced with had all been too painful to see. Comical in the way he had all but worsened your condition when stressing a healing patient had been the last thing people needed to be reminded of.
Yet here you were, struggling to even cry when every breath would agitate any bandaged injuries you'd gotten. And it had been his fault entirely.
“I'm not leaving ya. I'm right here..” He whispered. And you had forcibly glanced up. Seeing the way his distress had wrinkled those usually foxy eyes. Like he had suddenly gained a keen sense of his stupidity and finally realized that his sentiments were not helping you. And upon realization you couldn't help but feel how silly all this had been.
You would've laughed had you not wasted such excess energy into crying your heart out in front of him. Likely an accumulation from the week's worth of not being able to see each other.
That and other things, which were obvious enough.
But you spoke. Wanting to pick his thoughts apart. Reason with him the next time this may happen. And your eyes flutter away the tears as you had finally managed to calm down enough to ask him.
“Then why? Why even suggest that?” Your voice had been soft. His thumbs move to caress the stray tears away from your face. Even moving to casually use his sleeves to gently wipe your cheeks in assurance of his presence. And you close your eyes at the simple gesture. Suddenly feeling much better now that he had been so close to you like this.
Crap, he set himself up didn't he? And just when he had this all planned out too.
In the wake of your hospitalization, he had planned to leave you. Somehow make you change occupations. Maybe work for a tech company where your life wouldn't be on the line. Where you'd be far away from his life and you could live a happy, seperate life from him.
But who was he kidding? Even he thinks it's stupid. The idea of doing you the greater good.
It had sounded conclusive back then.
He'd likely die young, a Kaiju attack that he had lacked defenses in no doubt. And somehow, you'd weasel your way out and live an old happy life.
Like bronze. Tarnished but long lasting.
But you had seen through his intention. And every right to refuse such a concept had knocked him over the head. A simple shed of tears was all it took for such a carefully built wall to crumble. His resolve in shambles at the mere thought of you leaving.
And to take that away from you. To separate the both of you like that? It felt wrong. And somehow his stupidity makes him laugh.
And the next words uttered had been voluntary on his part. Sloppy but it came out from an honest place. That even he doubted its power.
"Because, it scares me how much I need you. Okay?" He leans in. Head against your own so that your noses would touch. And you could see the little cracks on that smile of his. A stark contrast to the facade of laughs he'd usually give off. And it makes your heart flutter upon such fleeting confessions.
"Just hearing that voice of yours is enough to wreck me. And ruin me for anybody else."
"And when I saw you. Layin' there with that faraway look on your eyes. I just couldn't fucking breathe."
The way his eyes had not once left yours had felt like the first time you had met him. In that room with the Captain watching your interactions.
You had been less amicable to each other by then. Always second guessing each other by investigating the little nuances of your expressions. But somehow, the difficulties in reading each other had not been so far fetched. And the longer you two would spend time together. The more you had an inkling of what the other was thinking. And eventually an unspoken understanding had come between the both of you.
One that required no words to speak. Nor assistance from anywhere else. Just you and him. Nothing more.
"What If I lose you? You're all I fucking have.."
"Soshiro.” You whispered. Suddenly feeling the weight of his words drop down on you upon his realization. And you shake your head in turn. Immediately running your hands on the soft tresses of his hair. “You’re not going to lose me.”
“And what if I did?” He was quick to interject. “What if I had been a second too late and you were killed?”
“-And yet I'm still here. See?” You moved his intertwined hands to your chest. Firmly letting him feel the pulse of your heart. A repetition had to be made in order to convince him. And if you had to do such things a million times, there was no doubt you’d do it a thousand more times.
And his hand couldn't help but press firmly. Gingerly looking everywhere to check your wellbeing. Satisfied when he had settled in your slightly puffy eyes that he had been all too remorseful of when he found it too pretty to look away from.
You leaned in. Pressing light kisses against his cheeks to calm his thoughts. The voice in the back of his head all but silenced. When the adrenaline kicked in, because somehow he found himself unfocused when he caught your lips in his.
It was short and sweet.
Far different from the many picturesque and grandiose kisses he'd read about in books. And far too slow amidst the rush hours of your working breaks. Where you'd snag a few touches here and there just to get a rise out of each other. No this had been far too different. Far too gentle than it normally was. But despite the innocence of such a contact. It had made a more lasting impact on him.
The hesitation implied vulnerability, and without it. You'd be remiss to see Soshiro's true feelings underneath it. And it makes you pull away to rub your own hands against his chest. Admiring the way his uniform had engulfed him warmly in the cold air conditioning in the room.
All that matters was that they were okay now.
All that matters is that they are together now. Is that so much to ask?
“I won't die so easily, Soshiro.” Your assurances had made him perk up. Head still leaning against yours where you could see the pretty hallmarks of his tired eyes.
“I may not be able to know..everything in that damn head of yours. But what I do know? Is that I have unwavering trust in you. And that's the only reason I made it out alive today.” Your voice had made him crack a smile. One that makes you raise a brow at him. Suddenly fixated on the way his demeanor had changed so easily when you had spoken your piece.
And Soshiro, ever the enigma that he was. Had stopped his reluctance around you. Finally getting a chance to relax as his hands slotted its way to the bounce of your cheek and jaw, which he had always found so endearing to touch and look at.
He couldn't help but run soothing circles on your flesh. A habit he might've picked up on when reading a few romances here and there.And it makes you wonder if he had always been this sweet. A layer unknown go you that you'd love to rediscover, if only he'd put down that smart mouth of his.
“I think that was ‘bout a week ago.” He corrected you. His face is as snarky as his comment. And that was enough to shake your head.
But of course, that had been too much to ask. Too far and few inbetween. You spoke too soon.
“Fine. A week ago.” You affirmed. Though this time you had rolled your eyes with a laugh of your own.
And the two of you had simply sat there. Soshiro rocking you back and forth as best he could without risking your injuries. Hands against the plush of your waistline, carefully making sure the stitches were still intact. But the warmth had remained.
This time he had been less distant. More calm and understanding like he had usually been. And that was enough for you. For now.
“Do you mean that?”
“Mean what?” You had blinked with a smile on your face. Sweet as it came, you had a viper that you knew how to use. And Soshiro wasn't ever one to stop confronting it. Even if he had to break out of his shell to ask the harder questions between you both.
“When you said you loved me.” He added.
And he wouldn't be able to miss that pretty smile forming on the corners of your lips. Leaning against him until the softness of your lips had grazed his chapped ones. Though you’d note, it was still gentle. Still his. And still yours to capture should you want it.
“Do I have to kiss you again and prove it?” You mutter out.
“Do you not want to right now?”
And without a doubt did you lean in. Capturing his lips with a crooked smile in between. Soft and sensual. And you had missed this. Missed him who had not gotten the chance to set things right by you.
How long had it been since you had taken the time to really kiss him? Without the rush of prying eyes, nor the responsibilities that came with their work. It was just a kiss, yet in this moment it felt like everything.
Slow and reassuring. Without the need of words to complicate things. It had conveyed everything he needed to know. And when you pulled back, Soshiro could see the pretty pearls of your teeth. Admiring the way your lips had bruised red from how eagerly he had captured your mouth. And he wouldn't dream of being anywhere else in the world right now. Not when you had looked so perfect. Hospital gown and all.
“Does that prove my point?”
He laughs. Something you had always thought to be pretty.
“Maybe.” The familiar trace of his hand had brushed past your hair. Straightening out the few loose strands that could obscure him from your face. And his smile, although back to the usual cat-like facade, had now softened up significantly upon your presence. And you had prided the way this man had looked at you like you had offered him the world.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at ya. I just-”
“Shh..I know.” Your hand had touched his lips. Admiring the way it too, had reddened from your previous kisses.
“I'm tougher than bronze, you know? I'm not so simple as to let a few words bend me sideways.”
“Okonogi tells me the same.”
“And right she was. You should learn a thing or two from her.” And a laugh bubbles between the two of you. He had to remind himself to save his apologies later for Okonogi. For despite her absence, even now she was playing cupid for them. The small voice in his head urging him to tell you how he truly felt.
And without warning. He managed to say it outloud.
“I love you.”
Those words had struck a melodic chord in you. Ones that made you look back at him in temporary stupor. Before finally turning giddy at the way he so gently said it. No remorse. No regret. A fact even she couldn't deface as mockery. When there'd normally be a trick of a joke involved.
And in your quiet smiles held a deep admiration for him. Ones that squeezed Soshiro's hand despite the difficulty of your injuries.
But that didn't matter. Injuries heal after all. And right now, you had been far too focused on him to mind the slowly subsiding pain on your body.
“What's this all of a sudden? You're not joking are you?” You ask cautiously. Though a smile still remained on your face. Far too elated at hearing those words. And from the look on his face, you could tell he had been serious in his admission.
“It's not sudden. I just–” Soshiro lets out a small chuckle. Not entirely sure why he feels so nervous in the wake of your question.
“I meant to say it that day. Before the Kaiju attacked. I wanted it to be perfect for ya and..” His voice stops when you lean in. Cuddling him down as best you could in the safety of the hospital's bedsheets. The understanding look in your eyes had all but told him that you knew. And it makes him think twice about having to explain things to you again. Not when you could now read him so well. Especially in the most important aspects of his life.
“I know. You don't need to tell me twice."
He heard you speak. Though the hint of playfulness in your voice hadn't subsided. A reminder that you had been slowly regaining your strength. And pretty soon, you'd be pulling him down by the collar just to kiss him breathless if you wanted to.
But for now, he was gonna have to take care of you. Take the lead and deal with your smart comments. And it makes him smile knowing he'd get to hear such witty banters from you again. More so now that you were awake.
“Really now? And I thought you'd be happy to have me say it outloud for ya.”
His chuckle had made his chest rumble. And you could feel the pleasant vibration as your head fell squarely on his chest. A roll in your eyes as you had hummed in reply.
“Well…I suppose it couldn't hurt for you to say it again.”
And he would. He'd do it as long as you'd allow him that privilege.
And this time, he too had read you like an open book. Somehow fitting perfectly in the way they understand the other without needing to speak. They needed to work on it. They needed each other more than ever before.
So it was lucky their bonds were more lasting than bronze. And fate had brought them together.
382 notes · View notes
kishibei · 2 years
Text
WHAT A CREEP !
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— K!NKTOBER DAY 9: PERVERSION
pervert! suna rintarou x reader | smut, 18+ | 3.8k words
summary: when your hot roommate offers to do laundry in exchange for a favor, you oblige in a heartbeat! your clothes seem to be returned in perfect condition, except there's one big problem: several pairs of panties are missing ...
cw: f reader, perversion, panty thieving, peeping, voyeurism, male masturbation, teasing, man-handling, fingering, mirror sex, dumbification, hate-fuck (?), rough sex.
← K!NKTOBER MLIST
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You’ve never had a problem living with Suna; he was the nicest roommate you could’ve asked for.
Rent always came in weeks before it was due, and he stayed out of your way for the most part. What he lacked in social aspects he made up for in general politeness. Suna always greeted you in the mornings before leaving, and when he came back he'd offer you takeout in exchange for watching movies with him.
Though he didn't talk much, you were never uncomfortable with his silence. He was much better company than your mutual friend Atsumu, who just couldn't handle shutting up for five minutes, let alone for a film.
Suna was a calming presence and when he did offer his thoughts on things, he was brutally honest. it was something you both seemed to agree upon, a small unifying factor that helped you grow a bit closer to him. He was clean and organized, and your communal spaces were a calm mix of both your living habits. You could definitely trust him with domestic tasks, he had never given you reason not to. So when he began offering to do your laundry in exchange for a couple of favors, you obliged in a heartbeat.
It couldn’t have been that big of a leap anyway. Suna was a self-sufficient man and had done his own laundry ever since he had moved in. Knowing that eased you, and there really wasn't a seed of doubt in your mind when you handed your hamper over to him before work. It was truly impossible for him to fuck this up. Most of your colors could go in the same wash, so all that was really left for him to do was load up the washer and throw in a softener mid-cycle.
In spite of your confidence in him, you still had lingering doubts about his abilities. He was a guy, of course, one who probably had his mommy back home to wash his jerseys all season long. You knew he was capable of doing his laundry just fine and yet you'd successfully convinced yourself he would fuck up somewhere. Mental preparation, you'd called it. Just in case he did manage to disappoint you. Most men had a way of doing that sort of thing, anyway.
Once you had returned, you were pleasantly surprised to be met with your clothes not only intact but neatly folded and organized on your bed. A quick look over your things proved them to be in order and you’d even caught yourself smiling as you packed everything into their respective drawers. You didn't expect Suna to go so far as folding them, so naturally, you felt as if you owed him something extra for what he'd done. Maybe you should cook him dinner?
Turning to the final pile, you paused.
Heat crawled up your body when your eyes fell on the remaining stack of garments.
"No fucking way..." you trailed off, picking up a neatly folded lace thong. You stood frozen in place, staring at the dark sliver of fabric with wide eyes. You could almost hear the gears turning in your head before the realization dawned on you. You had not only let your hot roommate wash, but fold an entire set of your panties.
The mental image that played behind your skull had you wanting to kill yourself. You could so imagine Suna standing in the middle of your room picking up pair after pair of underwear, snickering at each design choice. The mere thought of it made you want to die and at this rate, dying seemed like a way better option than having to face him after this.
It was times like this that made you wish you weren't so lazy. You had intended on separating your underwear from the rest of the wash the night before, but sleep had taken over and you’d completely forgotten about it in the morning.
Sifting through the pile, you inspected the panties one by one, cringing at the embarrassing pattern that decorated your favorite pair. Suna was an attractive man, even after living with him for this long you’d never changed your mind. From the very beginning and especially after finding out who he was, you were hoping he’d have an embarrassing routine or bad habit that would rid you of your feelings for him. But up until now, he had a clean track record.
if anything, it was rather you who had slipped up. It was you who had just now let him see your character-speckled panties, all for some small favors. Tossing the piece of fabric into the nearest bin, you threw yourself onto the bed. Violently kicking your feet, you buried your face in the pillows, screaming about your little fuck up until your throat went dry.
Quick footsteps and a sharp rapping at your door snapped you out of your tantrum. The sheer embarrassment of it all almost had you forgetting you shared the apartment with someone else. But how could you forget? He was the whole reason you were acting this way to begin with.
“You okay in there? I'm coming in!” the man called out.
Suna fumbled with the doorknob, it was his way of respecting your privacy. Wordlessly, he offered you some time to collect yourself before stepping in. Shit like that made you hate the situation even more, why'd he have to be so gentlemanly even after seeing something so humiliating of yours?
Cursing yourself, you sat up. Not only had he seen your worst pair of underwear but now he had witnessed your screaming fit. If he didn't already think you were weird, he would definitely think you were now. He was probably only checking in to tease you anyway.
“Yea Suna, I'm alright!" you blurted out. "I was actually just gonna thank you for washing my stuff!"
“You really didn't have to fold them too, you know?” the words left your lips so fast, you nearly couldn't catch what you were saying.
Suna’s eyes shifted from you to the now messy pile of underwear you sat next to, then met yours again. He wasn't stupid, it was very clear what you were flustered about.
"Oh,” he trailed off slowly, a hand coming up to comb through the hair framing in his face.
“It wasn't a big deal for me, sorry if you didn't want me to.”
“It’s fine!” you squeak. “I guess I owe you an extra favor for that.”
There’s a pause before Suna speaks again, almost like he’s contemplating the right thing to say. He's unreadable at the moment and you're about to curse him for it. But just when you fix your lips to get a word out, it appears he's decided.
“I'll keep that in mind.”
There's a smirk to his words that don’t quite reach his face, and before you can process it, he’s disappeared down the hall and back into his room.
Huffing you drag a hand over your face, turning your attention back to the stack of underwear in question. Sorting through them again you come to a halt. You're sure you’d included a couple more pairs than this so you recount, and recount, and recount. You're probably overthinking it, and things get lost in the dryer all the time. You can't even begin counting how many pairs of socks you’d orphaned in the wash.
This was Suna Rintarou you were talking about: star middle blocker for EJP. A division one player with a reputation to maintain wouldn’t do anything stupid like what you were thinking. Just because he stuck to himself didn't make him some reclused creep, he was a well-known guy who just happened to choose to enjoy a modest life. You're sure his name gave him plenty of girls to fuck, what business would he have stealing panties anyway?
You brush the thought from your mind. It's definitely a stretch, and beyond unlikely. You're almost ashamed that you even had such an idea, to begin with. Suna’s never given you a reason to doubt his intentions, but what kind of man just does a girl’s laundry for fun?
You need to be sure of your suspicions, if they were real at all. You need to catch Suna Rintarou red-handed.
Tonight, you hardly sleep. Staring up at the ceiling, your throat is dry, and your head is filled with unease, mind swirling with all kinds of theories about Suna. Frustrated, you slip out of bed to get a glass of water. The floor is cold, and a shiver crawls up your spine as your feet meet the chilly wood. It's an eerie feeling and it almost makes you want to crawl back into bed and try to fall asleep again.
Forcing the thought away, you make your way to the kitchen, treading lightly so as not to disturb your roommate. You know he has to travel in the morning, and you’d hate to be the reason he isn't well-rested. But as you pass his room, you realize he’s left his door cracked open and isn't asleep at all, heavy breaths and a soft rhythmic patting are proof of that.
The noises he makes cause you to stop in your tracks, and before you realize it, you find yourself drawn to them, clinging to the wall to secure a better view through the gap in the doorway.
Suna’s eyes are screwed shut. The faint glow of his phone screen just barely illuminates his features and you can see the soft dusting of pink covering his angular face. His lips parted and a shaky inhale followed as your eyes drop from his face to the hand that was gripping his heavy cock. You almost gasp yourself as you note the impressive size of it.
He was huge and girthy, even from afar you could make out the thick veins that decorated the shaft and the aggressive shade of pink that blushed over his leaking tip. You watched as fat beads of pre flowed down his cock, dribbling over his fingers before falling onto his weighty balls. You were so entranced by him you had barely registered what he held in that same hand until he began stroking himself with it.
Your jaw fell laxly as you watched how he worked himself with the lacy black fabric. He was practically choking his cock out with a grip so intense you were sure it was painful. Looking back at his face, you watched attentively as his brows knit together before he opened his eyes again. Zeroing in on his phone, a string of expletives fell from his lips as he picked up the pace.
The loud slapping of his skin and the creaking of his bed rivaled the sound of his voice but still, there it was. Among all the obscenities that came dripping from his tongue, there was your name.
It started as a whisper and you couldn’t even believe it was coming out of his mouth. It grew into a continuous desperate chant as if he was trying to summon you to properly finish him off before he pushed himself over the edge.
Suna came hard. Stupid hard. So hard he had let his phone slip from his grasp, and there you could see it.
You could recognize that photo anywhere, it was one of your best. Even if you had gone blind the next day, you could still point it out in a lineup of other revealing photos. There you were on Suna’s phone screen, on vacation at matira beach in bora bora, playfully bent over in a small bikini top and shorts.
This time you couldn’t hold the gasp you let out. Fully opening the door now, you watched Suna scramble to cover himself. The cum that covered his abs dripped onto his sheets as he sat up. Before he could open his mouth to speak you started.
“Fucking pervert.” you spat out.
Suna physically recoiled, the words had cut deep and bothered him more than he had liked to admit. But you’d instantly noticed how he flinched at them.
“Really, panties? And my Instagram? You're pathetic, Suna.”
He couldn't say a word, he sat staring dumbfounded blinking up at you like an idiot.
“Nothing to say, either? I expected a lot more out of you, guess you're nothing but a little pervert.” you spat contemptuously turning to leave the room. “And keep them. I don't want you going through any more of my stuff, freak.”
Suna sputtered as he watched you stand in the doorframe with your back to him. You were desperately waiting for him to say something, anything.
“That's rich coming from you” he fired back.
You froze as soon as the harsh words had reached you. Clenching your fists, you turn. "Accusing me is really low of you, Suna.”
“You think I didn't see you watching?” Chuckling, he ran a hand through his hair. “I mean watching me jerk off? You're even lower than me. I never crossed that line”
“Shut up.” you spat, turning to him. "I was only here to close your door. You're the one who left it open, you wanted to get caught.”
“Such a tease, youre the one who gave me your panties. it's almost like you wanted me to take them.”
Sputtering, you gave up on responding.
“You're no better than me.” he finished. Turning, you faced him fully now. “And you're right, I did wanna get caught, seeing you there made me cum, came real hard actually."
You cringed at his vulgarity. You’d never seen this side of Suna at all. He was always calm and reserved, the complete antithesis of what he was right now. You hated his sudden confidence and yet it turned you on all the same. Before you could think you began making your way into the room. Stopping before his bed, you lowered yourself to be at eye level with him.
“You know if you had just said something instead, we could’ve fucked.”
Bringing a hand to the nape of your neck Suna pulls you in, resting his lips against the shell of your ear. “So what’s stopping you?” he purred. Wrenching your head back to get a better look at you, his crushing grip on your neck intensified.
“Don't fight me now. If you want it, just tell me. I won't judge.” he simpered. "Besides, you do owe me a favor."
Your head spun at the thought of it, but you had also just caught him jerking off with your panties a few minutes ago. He was a creep, but you had also coveted him from the very moment he hauled his boxes in to stay. You didn't want to say it aloud, so you merely nodded. Admitting it would make it so much more real and you liked the idea of this just being some fever dream you’d wake up from in the morning.
“That won't do, I need you to say it,” he cooed, the smile playing on his lips growing sinister.
"I want it.” you whispered.
"Louder”
“I want it, Suna.” you said with more confidence now.
“Good,” he let go of your neck, deft fingers creeping up to get a good grip on your hair, beckoning you into a burning kiss.
The kiss was rough and nasty, spit escaped the corners of your lips and dribbled down your chin as his tongue explored your mouth. Pulling away with a gasp, you met Suna’s eyes, there was something dark steeping in them, but before you could think too hard about it, his hands gathered your hair again, pushing you down to your knees.
Your hands ran up his muscular thighs as he took the sheet off of him, swinging his legs off the bed to rest on either side of your head. He was much bigger up close and the sheer size of him made you nervous. Swallowing thickly you looked up at him again, and he brought a hand to your face, squeezing your cheeks so your lips puckered up for him.
“Go on,” he said with a nod, his other hand gripping his cock, slowly stroking it before bringing it to your eager lips. You opened your mouth and took him in immediately, already huffing around the thick of his shaft.
He was so big you could barely breathe around him, he was only halfway in and you’d already felt like throwing up. Pulling back with a gasp, you followed the trail of spit still connected to his cock, watching it split before pressing light kisses and kitten licks to the length of it.
The expression that painted Suna’s face almost made you laugh. His eyes were shut hard again and his forehead was creased in frustration at the barely there stimulation you offered him. Getting bored of teasing him, you put him in your mouth again.
You'd done it slowly this time, letting the tip of his member reach the back of your throat before pulling away. What couldn't fit in your mouth, you stroked with your hands and Suna was truly in heaven once he peered down at you working him skillfully. Grunting at your ministrations, he shifted his hands to cradle your face before plunging your head further down the shaft. You began to gag but he shushed you, gently stroking your head as he aided you closer to the base of his cock.
“See? Not so hard if you breathe through your nose, girl.” Humming around him you let him take control, allowing him to maneuver your head how he pleased, fucking your face with vigor. Tears streamed down your face and drool ran to your chin, the mix of fluid pooling down at the tip before dripping onto the floor.
“Fuck...” he grunted, bucking his hips as you took him down your throat, the harsh movement causing you to gag around him. “So pretty taking me like this…” his words were muttered and punctuated with moans. “So fucking good for me,” he grunted.
His words went straight to your pussy, and you clenched your thighs at the praise. Suna reveled in the sight of you falling apart in front of him, his words had an effect to them and he had clearly begun to make a mess out of you.
Suna was close, so fucking close. Pushing your face closer to him, you breathed heavily once you’d reached the hilt, nose buried in the light dusting of hair smattered over his pubis. A string of expletives left his lips as a warning. He couldn't quite find the words in time before he was cumming down your throat. When he had worn himself out you pulled yourself off with a pop, swallowing hastily to catch a proper breath of air.
You gasped violently, chest heaving as you huffed waiting for your breath to steady. Suna returned a hand to your face again, raising your chin to examine it. He brought his thumb to the corner of your lips, smearing around some of the fluids that escaped before pushing his thumb past your lips for you to suck. Capturing them obediently you met his eyes again, they were lidded and danced around your face and body, unable to focus on one thing.
“I didn't know pervert girls sucked cock so well,” he jested, sharply pulling back at the feeling of your teeth clamping down on his thumb. “I was joking!” he shook his hand for added effect.
“Let me take care of you now…”
Pulling you up to your feet, Suna helped you undress. He worked slowly and his touch lingered in the places he ran his hands over. Coaxing you over to him, he situated you in his lap with your back to him, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, he spread your legs.
“Look,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses and the occasional nibble to your clavicle. Glancing up, you had finally taken notice of the mirror that sat across from you. Seeing yourself spread open with him behind you made you shiver, your skin prickled with goosebumps when his hands traveled south, holding your thighs apart.
"Aren't you pretty?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. You were already babbling about him stroking your thighs and he hadn't even touched you where it meant anything. Pushing your panties to the side, Suna ran a finger down your slit, pulling it back to admire the thread of wetness that was still connected to your cunt.
“So fucking wet for me,” he began, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them loudly. Your flesh burned in embarrassment as you watched him lick your slick off his digits.
“And all that just from sucking dick? You really are a slut.”
You writhed in his arms, wishing he would get done with the teasing and actually touch you seriously. You were so turned on it almost hurt, the steady thump of your pussy irritated you, and you were practically on the verge of tears.
“Suna,” you whined, circling your hips desperately. “Please,  just touch me already…”
You watched his head lift from its position at your neck, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Without warning, he brought two fingers to your cunt, harshly plunging them into your dripping hole. You cried out, bucking wildly in his lap as he drew them out before pushing them in again, curling them to skim the spongy area hidden at the back of your cunt. His digits were long and skinny and he had no problems reaching deep where you needed him. Tears streamed down your face as he worked you to hysterics, hiccupping and gripping his wrists when you were close to your peak.
“S-suna!” you yelped, shutting your eyes hard at the incoming wave of pleasure. Suna grabbed your face, turning it back to the mirror.
“Open your eyes.” he cooed, roughly scissoring his fingers in your pussy. “I want you to see how you look cumming all over my fingers.”
Prying your eyes open, you focused on the mirror. Training your sights on Suna’s nimble fingers knuckles deep in you, you clamped down on him hard, gushing over his hands and thighs with a scream.
Before you had even fully come to, Suna was already busying himself with your spent pussy. Peeling your panties off, he slotted himself between your folds, coating his cock with your fluids before sinking you down on it.
Mutually, you gasped. Your hole fluttered around his length as the stretch of him entering burned you. Letting out a shaky exhale, Suna took his time, slowly lowering you down with small strokes until he had fully bottomed out. When you had finally adjusted, he hooked his arms around your legs, folding you in on yourself as he dragged his cock out of you.
You trembled at the feeling of his length being drawn out before slipping back in. You could practically feel every vein stroke your insides and the angle of his cock had you jabbering incoherencies when he abused the spot that had you falling apart. Suna’s pace was unrelenting, he bounced you on his lap, letting gravity take over before he lifted you up again.
“Fuck,” He grunted, angling his body to sink himself deeper. “Keep clamping down on me like that and I'm gonna cum.” His words had the opposite effect on you, and your cunt was swallowing him up, squeezing his cock with a vice-like grip.
Groaning, Suna tightened his grip on your legs. Standing up from the bed, he bullied his cock into you, lifting and dropping you down on him with vigor. Moaning in pure ecstasy, you hollered at his pace grabbing onto whatever you could to steady yourself.
You’d gone dumb at this point. Sobbing uncontrollably, you were unable to moan or form any sounds other than the string of slurred syllables that made up his name.
“Suna! Su- su-…”
“I know,” he hushed you, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek down to your neck and shoulders.
“Fuck!” he grunted. “Gonna… gonna cum!”
Gripping his wrists you tried to find the words. “Don- don’t pull out..” you slurred, teetering over the edge of bliss.
Your words shot straight to his pulsing cock and he emptied himself inside you with a strangled cry. The feeling of him filling you up with his warm seed pushed you over the edge. Crying, you gushed around him, pushing his cock out as he tried to fuck you through your orgasm. Coming down from his high, Suna pulled out of you, the mix of fluids dripping out of your worn cunt and onto the hardwood floor.
Relaxing in his arms, your eyes fluttered closed. Leaning your head back, you looked up at him. Sweat lined his brow and his face was a violent shade of pink as he huffed, meeting your gaze.
“So,” you rasped. “Wanna go again, pervert?”
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mrchiipchrome · 9 months
Text
The Mechanic
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W.C. - 4.2k
A/n: This was a bit rushed and not very good but anyways I’m going to bed now
——————————
Growing up, your father had been a mechanic and when you had days off from school he would bring you down to the auto shop he owned and worked at. Later, that would turn into you spending your afternoons and weekends down at the shop, learning everything there was to know about cars and how to repair them.
After graduating secondary school you were employed by the shop you had grown up in, rising through the ranks like any usual person would their job. You had close to no help from your father after your employment, he had always been clear that you had to work to get to your position especially if you wanted to one day inherit the shop.
So when your father died, you had more than enough experience with how to run an auto shop. In reality you were nothing less than a parentless kid trying to navigate their way through life without their biggest role model and simultaneous favorite person.
But eventually you found your footing, with the help of a bit of therapy that you'd gone to reluctantly, and had managed to find the balance between repairing cars and handling everything else that came with owning your own mechanic shop.
Still you consider yourself lucky, lucky for having Mitch who had been helping you with all the financials and all the other confusing things.
Mitch, or as you knew him Uncle Mitch, had been one of your father’s childhood friends and had been around since before you had been born. He was there for your father when your mother decided that she didn’t want to be part of your life and when he had no choice but to become a single father. He took you to school on the days your father couldn’t and helped you with school work.
So when a very pretty girl with car problems appeared one day, he was the first one to tease you about your obvious starstruck behavior.
—-
08.00 on a thursday and you’ve already been at work for a few hours, finishing up some paperwork and a couple small repairs on easier cars before all the other mechanics came in at 9. Hearing someone walk in through the open garage door is not an unusual feat, in fact you were used to your other mechanics coming in a bit earlier, so when uncertain footsteps echo in the peopleless shop you don’t roll out from where you’re situated under the car.
“Um, hi. My car just broke down like 2 minutes from here and I have no idea what to do.”
The soft fleeting voice is feminine and unfamiliar, definitely not one of your mechanics with their gruff chain smoking voices. Your head perks up and the hand holding the wrench from your tool set stills. With hands covered in soot and oil like most of your work clothes, you slide out from your place underneath the car.
“What seems to be the problem with it? Did it indicate something might've been wrong before it broke down? Any unusual sounds…?” Your voice trails off as you see the gorgeous blonde standing there looking around in curiosity, seeing all the different cars around the large shop. You just stand there, like an idiot seemingly enamored by the pretty stranger in front of you. She doesn’t seem to acknowledge your clear inability to act like a normal human as she directs her eyes toward you, eyes not even the greatest poets could try to describe.
The woman fiddles with the rings adorning her slender fingers as she rushes to explain the moments prior to her car stopping functioning.
“Oh god, yeah. I was supposed to come in for an oil change but then out of nowhere, my car started to make these kinds of crunching sounds and then there was a slight pop before it just broke down. Since I was supposed to come here, I knew it wasn’t that far so I left it with my friend and ran here for help”
The stress she’s feeling is evident in her actions and a surprising sense of protectiveness overtakes you, a feeling you can only describe as wanting to wrap her up in bubble wrap and protect her from the cruel world.
“Alright, have you called a tow truck yet?” The blush that immediately covers her face indicates that she had not, apparently not thinking that far. A sly smile takes over your face, fingers wrapping around a towel laying haphazardly on the deep red metal bench.
The soot and grime your fingers are covered in transfers over to the white surface of the towel, more soot at your hairline and your nose.
“You’re in luck miss, we have our very own tow truck.” Your hands shake deliberately as you try to lighten the mood, leading the blonde girl over to the regular truck you had. It was an old model, but damn if that car didn’t run perfectly. It had been a gift from Mitch for your 18th birthday, he knew that you adored putting excessive amounts of effort into your projects, and that car was truly a piece of work.
It had taken you a few short weeks to get it done, you were somewhat of a prodigy.
“Hey, take the passenger seat! I need you to show me where your car broke down.” You shouted as the blonde girl made no motion to move in any direction. She slowly shuffles her feet towards the car,enjoying the way your eyes raked over her body.
“Okay, so basically it’s just up the road, you’ll see a tiny dutchie standing beside it panicking.” She laughs softly as the last words escape her mouth, and in that exact moment you decide that it’s the greatest, most beautifully enticing melody ever created.
Your eyes are glued to the road, knowing that if you were to look into her eyes once more you’d get stuck looking at her. She felt like home even though you’d just met her moments before.
“Oh yeah? Why do you have a tiny Dutch person in your car?” The banter with you the girl you’d yet to get the name of was like you’d been friends for decades, you easily bounced retorts back and forth like great friends would.
“My teammate, we were driving to training and then my car decided that it didn’t want to work anymore. Wait, I haven’t phoned Jonas yet, I’m so dead.” You didn’t understand what she was talking about at the last part, the girl seemingly talking to herself.
Just like the woman beside you had said, there was a seemingly frantic short woman besides a white Mercedes. “How’d you know?” You ask the woman sitting in your car, her expression silly beyond comprehension. Her tongue was trapped between her teeth, her bright smile on display and her nose scrunched up adorably.
“A magician never reveals his secrets, right?” She fixes you with another cheeky smile, dark pink lips pulled together in the most admirable way. She was nothing if not perfect.
Her eyes shine brightly as you pull up next to her blinking car, the Dutch girl pulling the door open with a surprising amount of strength.
“Less, we are so late, Jonas is going to kill us!” Her foreign accent is quite noticeable, not that it bothers you. What did bother you was the way she threw the door of your beloved car up so violently.
“Yeah Vic, I know.” Less, as you’d come to know, told the other girl, Vic. Vic’s eyes flit over to you, taking in your non-threatening appearance and awkward smile. You wave at her before exiting your truck.
“So if you don’t mind, I’ll just pop your hood and try to find the problem.” You spoke to the taller of the two girls in front of you, who nodded her head vigorously, allowing you to do whatever it was you needed.
The smoke that escaped from beneath the hood concerned you, as did the heat of the motor beneath your fingers. It didn’t look too good for the blonde’s car, but for both her and your sake, you didn’t tell her.
“Well it’s definitely a problem with the engine, that much I’ll tell you.” A bit of worry seeps into your tone and Alessia doesn’t seem to like it.
“But my car will be fine right?” She was worried beyond recognition.
“Yeah, they say that I’ve got magic fingers for a reason” You sent her a quick wink, the statement true in both ways. The blonde’s face darkened significantly, red sprouting at every soft turn of the face.
“Okay there Casanova, why don’t you just hook the car to yours and take it back to the shop?” The dutchie’s tone left no room for argument, clearly she was protective of the blonde.
Pulling the wires from your trunk, you quickly hooked her car to yours in a safe way, making sure that her keys were out of the ignition and that her car was completely turned off.
Vic jumped into the backseat begrudgingly whilst Less took her place in the passenger seat.
You drove back to the garage in a slow pace, not wanting to damage the car behind more, plus you got to have the beautiful blonde in your car for longer.
“Less, how are we supposed to get to training if your car’s like that?” The girl in the backseat frowns at the blonde through the mirror, but you’re already multiple steps ahead, having put your thinking hat on before.
“I can drive you, and if y’all want we can take my coolest car too.” You spoke up nonchalantly, even though you were riddled with anxiety inside.
Less shakes her head softly, putting a soft and warm hand on your shoulder, stroking down your arm.
“It’s no problem really, we’ll just take an Uber.” She waves you off, despite seeming quite excited at the prospect of showing up to ‘training’ in a cool car.
“It’s no bother, my mechanics don’t come in until 9 so I’ve got time to kill. Plus, I haven’t been able to take the baby out for a while, needed to fix her up a little after the last time.” You laugh out, hand coming up to rub at the back of your head as you pull into the workshop.
“Take your things from your car and follow me.” The two of them do exactly as you say, getting their duffle bags from the white car.
You take them to the very back of the workshop, back to the garage where you kept your most prized possessions. In the smack middle it stood, your baby.
A 1968 Ford Mustang.
It was a gorgeous, shiny black color and you’d picked up a fair few ladies with it, just like your father did before you. He’d got it from his father, they’d started working on it before your grandfather died, and your father vowed to complete the work with his child.
Unluckily, your very own father died before the project was done, and so you were left to finish it.
“Here’s my beauty, my 1968 Ford Mustang, ain’t she a beaut?” You asked the two girls, standing behind you with their mouths wide open.
“Where’d you get it? Aren’t they super expensive?” Vic asked and Less slapped her arm harshly at the latter question.
“Passed down to me and yes, they’re incredibly expensive.” You could see how their eyes looked over your car, it was safe, modernized just enough so that it wouldn’t lose its charm.
“Right, you two can squabble about who sits in the passenger seat and who sits in the back, I’ll take your bags though, no scratching my paint.” You pluck their bags from their hands and put them in the trunk whilst Less and Vic actually squabbled.
Eventually, it was Less who won the battle, her hair blowing in the cool wind that passed you by as you drove. You’d gotten the address from the younger of the two as soon as you all got settled in the car.
When you finally pull up in front of the seeming training center, it’s to the sight of multiple girls standing with mixed expressions. Some were stern, others were shocked and some were confused.
“Alessia Russo, Victoria Pelova, where have you been?” The short woman at the front asks sternly, though shock does seem to flutter over her face for a second as she clocks your ride.
“Well my car broke down so I walked to the workshop not too far away-“ Alessia starts sheepishly, her fingers scratching at her forearm.
“Where she met Casanova, who decided to help by getting Lessi’s car to the shop and then driving us here in her sweet ride.” Vic finishes off Alessia’s sentence, patting your shoulder as she climbs out of the car. Alessia once again blushes at the name Vic gave you, just as you roll your eyes at it.
“You have a really beautiful car, miss.” One of the more sheepishly shy looking girls tells you, she had an accent you just couldn’t place.
“Thank you dear, tell me, where is it you come from? I can’t place your accent.” You ask her softly, not wanting to scare the young girl.
“Uhm, Denmark miss.” She looks down at her feet, shuffling them around as she blushes more than usual.
“Oh, I’ve never been, do you have any recommendations for me when I visit?” That seems to set the young girl off as she starts to babble on about different places to visit and where you could find the best food.
Alessia looks on as you engage with her teammate, with you leaning back on the side of your car and Katherine standing in front of you.
A sudden loud noise comes from your phone, and you recognise it as the jingle you’d put for Mitch.
“Hey uncle Mitch, whatchu calling me for?” You answer the call quickly, waving a little at the girls you’d met before.
“Where are you? The shop’s empty and I don’t know if I need to remind you, but your employees arrive in 10 minutes.” He was pretty clearly stressed about your current predicament.
“Oh shit, listen Mitch I needed to help a client and I took the Mustang so I’ll be back in like, 5 minutes.” You knew that he knew exactly why you’d taken the mustang, it was simply a lady magnet.
“A ‘client’ of course, that's what your dad always said when he wanted some alone time if you know what I mean.” Even if you couldn’t see your uncle’s face you knew that he was smiling and winking slyly. Your face scrunches up uncomfortably at the insinuation, not really wanting to know of your father’s ‘endeavours’ before you.
“Ew gross Mitchy, it’s not like that.” The whisper-shout you let out into the mic has the women around you looking at you weirdly.
“Alright, alright, I’ll open for the guys but you make sure that you don’t get in too late, you still have that car from a couple days ago to finish.” Rolling your eyes at the older man, you climb back into the car and put the keys into the ignition, turning the car on and saying a quick goodbye to the girls you’d given a ride to, telling the gorgeous blonde that her car would be done in the next few days.
You were fully on the road when the blonde realized that you hadn’t given her your number, which meant that she didn’t know when her car would be done.
You on the other hand knew exactly what you were to do when the car was done, it really wasn’t hard to make the plan.
—————
“Uncle Mitch? I’m going away for like an hour to help a client, so let the guys go on break for an hour and a half. They sure do need it.” You call out for your uncle who found himself at the shop more often than not.
“Okay kid, just make sure not to fool around too much okay? I know how you are-“ He starts off with a large smile on his face before you interrupt him with your own sentence.
“Yeah just like my father, I know, it’s kind of who I was raised by, you know.” You smile at the old man whose hair was graying and face wrinkled. He was like another father figure.
“Yeah, yeah, off you go to see Juliet.” He responds, shooing you out of the main room and towards the private garage where your Mustang was located.
“What is it with people naming us after old romance stories?!” You say exasperated, but the blush covering your face tells a different tale.
Revving up your car, you quickly pull out of the garage and pull out onto the road. The wind blows through your hair and the freeing feeling makes you smile, the hot summer breeze never failing you.
As you pull up to the training grounds there’s a large group of people exiting the building, training bags over their shoulders as they talk eagerly with each other. They do notice the car that didn’t fit in, black leather seats and black shiny exterior.
When their resident clumsy friend spots the car she trips over her feet, luckily enough for her, Vic is right beside her and she manages to catch the falling forward. It’s no easy feat by any means, but the smaller midfielder manages to pull her back to her feet.
When you pull up next to them, she comes up to greet you.
“Hi Casanova” She starts off, smile splitting her face open from ear to ear. Your face mirrors hers, the stupid nickname seemingly stuck around.
“Hi Alessia, I was popping by to pick you up as the work on your car is done.” The forward eagerly puts her bag in your backseat before she’s plopping down in your passenger seat. She smiles even wider as she realizes the soft rock flowing out from your radio. All of a sudden her face turns into a mess of confusion and a bit of fear.
“Wait, how did you know when my training ended?” She was staring deep into your soul, eyes glistening in the sun.
“Well I had a little help.” Turning around to face her Dutch friend, you can see the way she winks at the blonde sitting beside you, who merely raises an eyebrow at her. There were more questions to be answered but she decided that it wasn’t worth the effort.
“Are you ready to go back to the garage?” You ask her softly, her face just so enticing that you could do no more than whisper in her presence. She nods her head though and as you’re pulling out of the parking lot you both hear a:
“Don’t forget protection!”
The blush that comes over her face makes her look like an overly ripe tomato, though you don’t have much to say, looking like a tomato yourself.
The rest of the drive is spent in silence, Alessia looking out at the streets of London like she'd never seen anything like them before and you admiring her at every red light. It’s not until you pull up at the shop that she looks at you properly, her eyes glimmering.
“So if you just follow me out here, I’ll lead you to your good as new car.” She exits your car to follow you out and towards her own, the Mercedes that you’d put extra time and effort into. Nothing but the best for the gorgeous girl.
“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here to save the day, I really do owe you one.” Her seemingly never ending smile shines even brighter at the sight of her car, and as she turns to you it seems to get impossibly brighter.
“Well it’s my job you know, I kind of own the place.” It’s a hastily thrown out comment that seemingly piques her interest, Alessia’s hand coming up to rest on your slightly sooty arm.
“How do you own this place? I don’t mean it in a condescending way or anything but it’s just that you’re so young and pretty and you don’t seem like the type to buy a workshop.” She rambles in her nervousity, eyes shifting around the shop like they’d done only days before.
“I inherited it from my dad, the same with my car. He uhm, he died and my mom is like fully out of the picture so I got most of his stuff, my uncle Mitch also got some stuff but I was the main person.” She was so easy to talk to, you’d only met her days before and it felt like you’d known each other for years. Your dads death wasn’t something that you talked about often or with most people, so your heart had really taken a wild leap for the young striker.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, I know that he’s watching you with pride wherever he is.” Her hand rubs up and down your arm comfortingly, smiling sorrowfully at you as you recount your grief at the most important person in your life’s death.
“It’s not your fault, he lived his life to the fullest so I know that he was content when he died…” Alessia notices the want to change the topic of your conversation and so she shifts it to something more trivial.
“Uhm, how much do you want me to pay for this?” She asks, her voice wavering slightly at the whiplashing change of topic.
“You can pay with a hug and a kiss?” You joke lightly but it seems like the forward takes it seriously, as her hands come up to slither back around your neck, fingers tangling in your baby hairs.
Big hands settle on the blonde’s waist as she moves her face closer to yours, leaning up to rest her lips against yours in a soft embrace.
The kiss is nothing short of magical and as her tongue pokes against your lips you open your lips, basically french kissing the girl in the middle of your workshop. The kiss only breaks apart as whistles from your employees ring out throughout the shop, the guys having come back from their break.
When they finally quiet down it’s by the threat of you withholding their next paycheck and they all look away as you peck the girl’s lips a few more times before letting her leave in her fixed up Mercedes.
“Not a word of this to Mitch.” You look at them all sternly, but the knowledge that all of them had basically watched you grow up made you realize that they definitely weren’t scared of your empty threats. They sealed the deal by chuckling at you before turning back to their individual projects.
————-
In the weeks following the blonde leaving your motor shop she’d come in more than once for imaginary problems with her car, which you knew was just an excuse to see you. No one had that many problems with their car.
When she comes in fully unexpected one Thursday it’s with a fleeting problem with her motor from before.
“Hi Y/n, my car has been acting up a little again, mind checking it out for me?” She pops her head into the shop after hours, you’d just been finishing up some paperwork that needed to be done.
“Alessia, you do know that you can just ask me out on a date instead of making up problems with your car?” You prayed that you’d read the situation right, otherwise it’d be quite the awkward conversation.
“Oh thank you, it’s really hard to just come up with problems out of the blue” Her body leans on her hands that are now pressed against your desk, her face close to yours.
“So, are you going to ask me?” You ask her the question you’d been thinking about for a while, her face and the tops of her ears turning red.
“Y/n/n do you want to go on a date with me?” She asks nervously, like you’d ever reject a girl like her, a beautiful and kind soul that did nothing if not light your day up with her made up problems.
“Of course I would Less.” You respond to the girl, only for her to lean forward and capture your lips with her own. People always talk about the first kiss, but the second kiss was always so much better, and all the kisses after that were pretty great too.
Who would’ve thought, a footballer and a mechanic getting together, the very own Casanova and Juliet of the world.
Maybe some weird romance book would be written about it in a few years, but for now you were content with watching the stars with your gorgeous girlfriend in your less gorgeous (but still very beautiful) car, sharing deep kisses into the night.
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misstrashchan · 3 months
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I know people have picked up on the board game scene in RWBY V2 Episode 2 (Welcome to Beacon) as foreshadowing the events of the show, but for funsies I want to take a stab at how it foreshadows the general arcs of each four kingdoms myself.
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So we have Blake playing as the Kingdom of Vale, and she's completely unaware of the events of the game unfolding and not really paying attention, clearly distracted.
"Alright Blake, it's your turn!"
"Huh? Sorry, what am I doing?"
"You're playing as Vale, trying to conquer the four kingdoms of Remnant!"
"...Right."
The Vale arc is the first three volumes of RWBY, where all our protagonists are at Beacon, but during that time, much like Blake during the game, they're unaware of the larger conflict with Salem, and aren't actively participating in the war at that point. They are ignorant and reactive instead of active. However it's ironic that Blake plays as Vale, since the reason she's not paying attention to the game and seems distracted is because, out of all the main characters in the Vale arc, she is the one most concerned about being kept in the dark and that they're ignorant as to what's really going on.
Blake: I just, I don't understand how everyone can be so calm.
Ruby: (approaching Blake) You're still thinking about Torchwick?
Blake: Torchwick, the White Fang, all of it! Something big is happening and no one is doing anything about it!
She also leaves the game during her turn, much like how she runs away after the FoB and the end of the Vale arc.
"Right. Well, I think I'm done playing, actually"
Yang is playing as Mistral, and she's the most savvy and knowledgeable (hah) player, winning many rounds of the game, teaching Weiss how to play, and has the other players falling into her trap cards.
"Heh, pretty sneaky sis, but you just activated my trap card!"
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There's two ways this can be interpreted, with how the Mistral arc (volumes 4-6) is when our protagonists start to gather more knowledge and awarenesses of themselves and the world. It's also in Mistral that our heroes have their most decisive victory so far. It's fitting to have Yang playing as Mistral then, since during the Mistral arc she's the one who who learns from Tai to fight smarter, and to question the authority figures around her from Raven, and after confronting her in the vault is the one who retrives the relic of knowledge.
But, most of the losses our heroes experience are because of Cinder, who is from Mistral, and them falling into her own "trap cards" with the Fall of Beacon being orchestrated by her, killing Pyrrha and Ozpin. And in Atlas the same, with her manipulating Ironwood, undermining the heroes plans to evacuate everyone from Atlas, and killing Penny. She often finds ways to trick and exploit others, and is most dangerous when overlooked and underestimated, like falling into a trap.
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Which brings me to Ruby playing as Atlas, where Ruby and Yang have this exchange after Yang's trap card is activated by Ruby:
"Giant Nevermore! If I roll a seven or higher, fatal feathers will slice your fleet in two!
"But! If you roll lower a six or lower, the Nevermore will turn on your own forces!"
"That's just a chance I'm willing to take"
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In the Atlas arc (volumes 7-9) the theme of trust and taking risks is very prevalent. Like the move Yang makes in the game it is a risky one, that could end badly for her, but it is one worth taking nonetheless. They take the risk of trusting Ironwood but he ends up turning on our heroes. Oscar takes a risk trusting Hazel and Ozpin, as well as Emerald later on being accepted into their group, and it ends up working out for them. Ruby takes a risky chance in sending a message out to all of Remnant and evacuating Atlas, which saves a lot of people, but they still lose some, including Penny, a dear friend of Ruby's.
"Noooooo! My fearless soldiers!"
"Eh, most of them were probably androids anyways"
"Goodbye my friends... you will be avenged!"
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Ruby acts distraught when losing her turn in the game as Atlas, expressing anguish over losing her friends who are described as androids by Yang, just like how Ruby is incredibly depressed and broken after the Fall of Atlas in V9, mourning the loss of Penny, who was both a sentient android and Ruby's friend. (I do wonder if Ruby's comment on avenging her friends might be foreshadowing for her wanting to avenge Penny's death in the future, like how Jaune tried to 1v1 Cinder in V5 to avenge Pyrrha, but I think it's too soon to say)
As a sidenote the fact it is a Nevemore in this turn that has a chance of turning on Yang or helping her is interesting, as it puts me in mind of two characters who can turn into ravens/crows, like the bird and poem Nevermore is associated with. It could pertain to Raven, someone who turns on Yang in v5 during the battle of Haven, but appears to help her and her friends in the V9 epilogue. It could also be about Qrow and his semblance, since during the Atlas arc it begins to evolve so that it is not simply a bad luck semblance, but one that can generate good luck too. In other words he can affect whether the chances are in people's favour or not.
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After defeating Ruby (Atlas) Yang says this:
Yang: Not until I draw my rewards! Which are double this round thanks to the Mistral Trade Route!
Ruby: Bah!
Yang: Oh, and what's this? The Smugglers of Wind Path?
Ruby: Bah! Bah, I say!
Yang: I say, it looks like I'm taking two cards in my hand!
After the Fall of Atlas Cinder retrives not one but two relics for Salem, and with Atlas falling into Mantle, two kingdoms are destroyed in one fell swoop.
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Then it's Weiss's turn. Weiss is playing as Vacuo, but has no idea how to play the game. Yang takes it upon herself to teach Weiss how to play and what she can do to win the game:
Yang: Well, Weiss, it's your turn.
Weiss: I have... absolutely no idea what's going on.
Yang: (Yang slides up beside her and puts her hand on her shoulder.) Look, it's easy! You're playing as Vacuo which means that all Vacuo-based cards come with a bonus.
Weiss: That sounds dumb.
Yang: See, you've got Sandstorm, Desert Scavenge... Oh, oh! (She pulls up a card to show Weiss.) Resourceful Raider! See, now you can take Ruby's discarded Air Fleet—
Ruby: (crying) Nooo!
Yang: —and put it in your hand!
We know from the end of V9 that what remains of the airfleet of Atlas, as well as the airfleet of Mistral and Vale, have all flocked to Vacuo's defence. What remains of the kingdom of Atlas, the airfleet, but most importantly the people, have now fled to Vacuo and are trying to make a home there.
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Yang continues to give Weiss advice on how to win the game to Weiss, building her up, until Weiss starts to get arrogant, believing she's going to win the whole game and is the one in control:
Yang: And since Vacuo warriors have an endurance against Natural-based hazards, you can use Sandstorm to disable my ground forces and simultaneously infiltrate my kingdom! (Yang points a finger at Weiss.) Just know that I will not forget this declaration of war.
Weiss: And that means...
Ruby: You're just three moves away from conquering Remnant!
But then Yang turns on Weiss, activating her trap card, and Vacuo loses.
Since this is may be foreshadowing for the Vacuo arc that we haven't seen yet, I can only speculate what this might mean.
...But judging from the V9 extended epilogue and the books, my best guess would be that if Yang/Mistral is meant to be in part Cinder/Salem and their forces, then Weiss as Vacuo is in part the Crown. In the extended epilogue Jax and Gillian appear to be recieving help from Tyrian and Mercury, meaning Salem has decided to recruit them to her cause.
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The Crown wants to restore the Vacuoan monarchy and detest outsiders, especially Atlesians. They do however wish to protect Vacuo from the same forces that destroyed Beacon, aka Salem, and so they are likely going to be manipulated like Weiss is by Yang in the game, being offered aid and giving them advice on how they can win and achieve their objectives, making them believe they can "conquer Remnant", only for them to realise later they were being tricked and used.
"Once again, Vacuo had been isolated from the conflict raging throughout Remnant—only this time it was an opportunity. With the global CCT network disabled, Vale in ruin, Haven leaderless, and Atlas closed off, Vacuo was theirs for the taking. This was likely their last, best chance for a generation. And it was their only hope to defend Vacuo against whomever had been targeting the other kingdoms. In likelihood they had written off Vacuo, like everyone else did, but if they tried to move against the Crown, they would have an unpleasant surprise.
Vacuo wouldn't break this time around."
Weiss: (Weiss stands and a thunder clap accompanies Weiss' overjoyed psychotic laughter.) Y-yes! Fear the almighty power of my forces! Cower as they pillage your homes and weep as they take your children from your very arms!
Yang: Trap card... (Yang's arm appears holding the card.)
Weiss: Huh?
Yang: (Yang shuffles the pieces on the board, Weiss' pieces disappearing in a puff of smoke.) Your armies have been destroyed.
Weiss: (Weiss slumps in her chair, cries and whines.) I hate this game of emotions we play!
Weiss as Vacuo may lose to Yang after realising they've been tricked, but is offered comfort afterwards by Ruby who relates to her losses and empathises with her, which is interesting since Ruby plays as Atlas. So I'm predicting at the end of the Vacuo arc they'll experience somewhat of a loss, whether that's the Crown, our heroes, or likely both, but Atlas will give support to Vacuo and the two kingdoms will come together to heal and ultimately work together, making steps to overcome their tense history with one another.
"Stay strong Weiss we'll make it through this together!"
"Shut up, don't touch me! "
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...Which does make Weiss specifically playing as Vacuo especially intriguing, as she is the SDC heiress from Atlas, and Vacuo is a kingdom that has suffered the most in being exploited and colonized for it's natural resources by Atlas. From the epilogue it seems like the Schnees are being confronted directly with all the harm that has been caused by their family and kingdom, so I wouldn't be surprised if Weiss recieves a certain amount of focus during the Vacuo arc in deciding what her legacy as an Atlesian and heiress to the Schnee name will be. Moving forward to make amends, maybe inspiring the citizens of Atlas/Mantle to come together with Vacuo so they can all help and support one another, instead of isolating themselves and suffering alone.
Jaune offers to plays Weiss's hand for a turn also, with Weiss refusing:
Jaune: (Begging with both hands folded together.) Come on, let me play your hand for a turn!
Weiss: I'm not trusting you with the good citizens of Vacuo!
Which is reminiscent of how Vacuo is mistrustful of outsiders, as we've seen in After the Fall and Before the Dawn books.
Yang follows up to say that Weiss attacked her own forces, which could reference the infighting in Vacuo, especially with the Crown.
Weiss: Besides, this game requires a certain level of tactical cunning that I seriously doubt that you possess.
Yang: Uhh, you attacked your own naval fleet two turns ago. (Weiss makes an annoyed sound.)
Overall Weiss as Vacuo recieves the most help as any player during their turn, being taught how to play by Yang, offered comfort by Ruby after losing, and Jaune wanting to help her by playing her hand for a turn. This seems to fit with both how all kingdoms have flocked to Vacuo's aid in response to Ruby's message, but also Weiss as a character, who starts out "the loneliest of them all" but gradually opens up and warms up to other people. The crux of her arc being looking outside herself and at the people around her, relating to their struggles and coming to support them and being supported by them leads to her better understanding herself and becoming stronger for it... Which is kind of what the Kingdom of Vacuo needs to learn too!
Following this is Blake's turn as Vale, which I covered at the start of this post, but that's not the end of Vale's turn. We don't actually see it, but we know the aftermath of the game is this:
Yang: Ugh, we should have never let him play!
Ruby: You're just mad cuz' the new guy beat you!
Blake leaves the game during her turn as Vale, and presumably the "new guy" which is likely Neptune, who they'd just been introduced too, takes over her hand as Vale and wins the game of Remnant overall, even beating Yang and her trap cards. This is likely the endgame of RWBY itself, our heroes return to Vale after the Vacuo arc during the last volume for the final stand, where they win.
How and what that victory will look like I don't know, as we don't see the last turn of the game, so yet again this is even more vaguer speculation. Neptune doesn't really have much plot significance so I can't think there's any meaning to that except that he's a minor foil to Jaune, and the line of it being "a new guy" that wins, so maybe someone who recently joins our heroes side in the final act of the story, possibly Mercury or Cinder.
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