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#this dream really had me run up to my door to check it was lock and peer through the crack like it was some fuckin horror game
cursedauxiliary · 1 year
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Long dream
So in my dream I guess I'll start here I was with 3 friends and we were walking around and eventually they wanted to create like a tiktok music vid so I start copying the dance with them as we run around, eventually I get tired and say "hey I fucked up can we re do that take AND take a break man" of the 2/3 they were a bit pissed but one was like also extremely exhausted, for them I leave to go to a Tesco, (guess I'm in the UK??) And try to find lemonade to no avail so I try getting some pastries but idfk how to do their system bc apparently I can pay as I grab the pastries, so 2 british employees help me but they're honestly pissed I'm this dumb, I get it packed and a ginger ale and had back to a car apparently that took like 2-3 hrs so the original girls had already went home and I had argument with my mom about it, but I said idgaf it's too late idk how time went that fast. There was also a point in the dream where I'm with my sisters at the beach and point out how this creep is always here in the summer, and its yoshikage kira and hes like the white van with candy type of predator. Moving on I'm back at my HS and theres this dude whose been following, akward type, I try to be friendly and I head to my apartment??? In my hs (it's like the 5th floor, granted irl my hs is just 2f no dorms) the guy tries to kiss me but I push him away bc I dont seem him like that, and somehow the clutzy shmuck stare fades away from him and he gets mad, and breaks into my room to break shit, I run away but not fully, he thinks I've left but I go in to get evidence and my now destroyed pc, I get it and sees me leaving the hallway and starts chasing me, I really quickly try to run down the emergency staircase, that goes through the busy gymnasium, I run to the athletic director office for help but hes busy on the phone, so I run over to the IT the computer parts I have now look like fuckin croutons in soup, but theres some hard drives that I could pull out to hand to the IT guy, he tries to salvage the data, i try texting some friends if I could stay at their place bc tbh I need new locks, most are away, so i head back hopefully able to barricade myself safely, i go in i kick in the closet to make sure no ones their extra and then i hear the shuffle of papers under my bed and i grab and tackle this Japanese woman that was paid by the weird dude to collect info, I had to poorly type in google translate while holding her down bc she did not speak english, and eventually I called the cops, then the environment shifted and I was basement of a home where the father was trying to kill us (I was the daughter but there was also the wife and son), I hid in the bathroom, took some type of drugs that reduced the noise of my breathing but turned my eyes like wide open and p blood shot, he entered the bathroom checking around, somehow I was able to just stand so still or crouch that his eyes just glazed over me, and he was leaving the brother comes over with a fiery orange hot fireplace poker and stabs him and pushed him into a woodpile to hold him down, we all run up to the top of the stairs, and for some reason the wife and the son agree not to call the cops bc it would ruin their public opinion and their convinced they can get him back to his senses. The end
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tinycoffeeroom · 4 months
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more than enough | lando norris
face claim: none ♡
request: here !
requested: Hi lovely, I loved just friends!! Since reading, all I’ve been able to thinking about is bestfriend/roomate Lando. Maybe you’re not able to join him for race weekend and he hasn’t heard from you, like at all. When he returns, he thinks you’re not home until he hears the sobs and realises something is really wrong. Maybe you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and Lando is standing on the other side of your locked bedroom door, absolutely in love with you and hurting because you’re hurting 🫠
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
📍 Miami
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liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,387,928 others
landonorris WE FUCKING DID IT!!!!! P1 in Miami!!!!! you bitches can't call me lando nowins anymore!!!
See 997,729 other comments
fan you can tell lando runs his own social media... ↳ mclaren it is our biggest burden
oscarpiastri well done mate! well deserved! ♥️ landonorris ↳ landonorris you next osc!!!
maxverstappen1 i said i'd have to collect my wins before you start coming for them, congrats winner! ♥️ landonorris
mclaren our papaya boy, you will always be loved (heart) ♥️ landonorris
fan WHERE IS Y/N?????? ↳ fan lando said in an interview that she couldn't come this week!!!! i'm sure she texted / called him
fan i know y/ns screaming and crying at the fact she couldn't be there this week
fan no lando / y/n hugging photo :((((( i miss my best friends
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liked by fan, fan and 19,036 others
f1gossip Lando Norris' roommate and best friend Y/N L/N was caught in a heated argument with her recently debuted beau outside a restaurant in Monaco. The person who sent the photo in was too far away to hear the argument, but said Y/N seemed despondent to the situation, watching her boyfriend walk away before paying the bill and leaving quietly. Soon after, waiter's came to each outside table and told them Y/N sent her apologies for the commotion.
fan y/n :(((( was he the reason she couldn't go to Miami????
fan i'm gonna dox him ↳ fan i mean... i'm not gonna stop you
fan i have a knife.
fan i hope he's an ex boyfriend now wtf???
fan do you guys remember the pics of her and lando talking at padel and her bf was shooting DAGGERS at lando??? yeah somethings going on there ↳ fan we hate insecure men
fan lando i know u have money and connections i need this man to disappear
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It wasn’t unusual for you to go radio silent after a race you weren’t able to attend, especially one on the other side of the world. Lando was used to a simple “congrats on P4!<3333” or wherever he had placed that time, and then you would be off to the land of dreams as he went about his day, shuffling between meetings and the media paddock. 
Today was different however. Lando had actually won. He’d won his first ever race and his best friend and roommate was virtually nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t help but feel a little angry at you, you knew how much P1 meant to him, the hours he had spent moping around the little apartment the two of you shared after a bad race and the rants he would go on when he placed P2 but was inches from that ever so elusive win, slipping just through his fingertips. 
He fired off one last text to you before sliding the phone back into the waistband of his fireproofs so he had his hands free to accept celebratory fist bumps and handshakes from every garage along the paddock. 
The lack of communication from you slowly slipped his mind after he had interview after interview, the kind and excited words of the journalists filling him with pride as they recall just how far ahead of Max he had been. Sure, his mood soured everytime someone mentioned that he got lucky with the safety car but his mother always told him that luck was something to utilise, not something to rely on. 
When he was finally free of the media’s hands, he checked his phone again. No messages from you which made him sigh, but one from Max. Opening their text thread, he’d dropped Lando a location pin for a well known bar in Miami along with the sentence “9pm, be there or be square, race winner”. 
To be quite honest, Lando doesn’t remember much of the party. Hell, he doesn’t even remember getting there, Zak having plied him with glass after glass of champagne during their debrief. He’s pretty sure Oscar had been the one to zip his fly up when they met outside their hotel rooms before the party, hands moving up to recentre his shirt so only a slightly scandalous amount of chest showed. 
Sitting on the private jet, again courtesy of Max, he thumbed through the last text thread between the two of you. You’d seemed fine, mentioning that you were going out for a meal with your boyfriend before the race started, and then… nothing. Complete and total radio silence. 
Maybe you were still with your boyfriend, too wrapped up in that jackass to notice the 17 messages Lando had left you since last night. 
God, he hated that guy. Ever since the day you had introduced him to Lando, he’d had a bad feeling. The guy was too touchy, arm wrapped securely and possessively around your waist like Lando was some kind of threat. 
And maybe he was. 
If he’d just manned up and told you the truth, that he’d loved you since the moment the two of you met one sunny day when he was still an F2 driver and you were the sister of one of his rivals, then maybe it would be his arm draped around you. 
Instead he had smiled, rolled over and showed his stomach like a runt at the bottom of the food chain, and watched from afar as the guy whisked you away under a mottled sunset. 
He felt a nudge at his side, eyes meeting Max’s curious ones. “Still no reply?”
He sighed, shaking his head as he pocketed his phone once again. “Maybe she’s busy…”
The excuse sounds weak even to his own ears, and when Max simply hums unbelievingly, he sighs again, mind torn in half at the elation of his win and the sadness of your ignoration. 
Sliding the key into the door, he listened ahead for any sign of life. The sound of dishes clinking in the sink, or your playlist of noughties hits that he always pretended to hate but would secretly sing along to when you weren’t looking. 
The silence that blankets him is unnerving. Too reminiscent of when he’d moved here alone and had all but begged you to join him, promising a rent free and easy going life. 
Checking the kitchen, he sees it’s exactly as he left it last week. The living room is barely lived in, the odd throw misplaced from the back of the sofa. His game room door is still shut, as is both his and your bedrooms. 
As he walks through to drop his suitcase off in his room, dreading the amount of washing that will fall out of it when he gets the energy to open, he hears a noise. From your bedroom, specifically. 
Checking his watch, he sees its 2 in the afternoon. Normally, you would be up and out by now, dragging Lando to whatever new fad you had seen on tiktok, or to the padel courts where he would inevitably lose to you. 
Leaning so his ear presses against the door, he can make out the shuffling of sheets. Maybe you had decided to do some laundry whilst you waited for him to get back. But then, the sound of sniffling joins. 
He freezes on the spot, ear still pressed haphazardly to the wooden door. The sniffles get louder and louder, soon joined behind an unmistakable sob. He can feel his heart drop to the floor, his stomach joining it on its tumultuous way down. 
You were crying. And he had no idea why. 
Pulling away from the door, his hand hovers the knob. Should he knock first? Should he just leave you to it? Normally, when you were sad, you would sneak into whichever room he was in, either reaching a hand out to lay against his back or sitting close enough so your thighs touch. He knew you needed to feel some part of him in order to ground yourself, and he always obliged. Oftentimes, the two of you would end up cuddled on the couch, some soppy chick flick on the tv as you gave into the warmth surrounding you, eyes closing as you rested your head against his shoulder. Despite how much it hurt to see you sad, he couldn’t deny these quiet moments were his favourite part of any day. 
Another sob breaks out, the sound so cruel and visceral, it was as if it had been yanked from your very soul. He forgoes knocking, hand twisting the knob harshly. He tries to push it open, only to be met by a force pushing back against him. 
You’d locked the door. 
In the 4 years of living together, neither of you had ever once locked your bedroom doors, knowing the other would knock before entering but still feeling comfortable enough to forgo privacy so the rooms could be open to the other whenever. 
“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly, as one would approach an injured bird. 
The sobs become muffled, more shuffling of sheets before you call back to him, voice weak and torn along the edges. “Lando?”
He normally loved when you said his name, but the whine that accompanies it today leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He knows he should ask what’s wrong but he doesn’t know where to begin. He’s never not known why you’re sad, the two of you an open book shared between friends. 
He starts the only way he knows how. “Did you watch the race?”
More shuffling of sheets and when you respond, your voice is closer. “I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t get a chance to.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you. “How did you do?”
He wants to be angry. He really does. The one time you don't watch a race and he only goes and bloody wins it. “I won.”
“What?” Your voice wobbles, wondering if you were imagining what he had just said. 
“I won, Y/N. My first P1. 7 seconds ahead of Max.”
He waits for your response, probably some form of congratulations spoken through wood given your current mood. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to unlock and slam open the door, the both of you wincing as it bangs against the wall. “Say that again.”
He takes you in for a moment. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with violet, tears still making their way down flushed cheeks. You’re wrapped in your duvet, only your head visible as the duvet covers what is probably bedhead and your favourite set of pyjamas - flannel trousers and a t-shirt of Lando’s you had stolen at some point. 
Shrugging his shoulders, he smiles warily at you. “I won.”
Throwing yourself at him, he takes a moment to steady the two of you, arms wrapping around the mass of duvets surrounding you. He can feel you crying again, tears soaking the collar of his shirt. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lan. I should have watched, I mean you won and I wasn’t even there to watch. I’m sorry, please forgive me.” You choke through the words, fingers digging roughly into Lando’s back. 
He winces at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin through the shirt, squeezing you even closer to him. “Don’t be sorry. Something obviously happened.” He uses the mound of duvet to pull you away, eyes flickering over your face. You look heartbroken in more ways than one. “What happened, sweet girl?”
Your lips quiver at the nickname, a hand poking through the duvet to reveal your phone. After 3 tries of using face ID, you huff, angrily putting in your passcode before turning the screen to Lando. 
He scans the screen. It’s an instagram post by some F1 gossip page. He recognised the user as one who often tried to paint him as some womaniser, taking any regular interaction with a woman as a sign he was sleeping with them. 
This post, however, is different. He sees you first, mouth in a tense line as you stare blankly at your boyfriend. Then he sees the caption. 
The anger returns, festering and dark, this time directed to your dickhead of a boyfriend. “What did he do?”
You sigh, locking the screen and pulling your hand back into the duvet cocoon. “I said I wanted to go home because your race was about to start. He got angry and accused me of being in love with you. I pointed out that I was literally on a date with him. He called me every name under the sun, told me we were over and then stormed off. I’m sorry, Lan, this isn’t good publicity for you.”
He scoffed, eyebrows raising skyward. “I dont give a fuck about the publicity, I care about you. How dare he speak to you like that?” He can tell the angers bleeding into his tone but he’s about 2 seconds away from finding out where that prick lives and beating him over the head with a padel racket. “Are you ok? Do you want to put on a chick flick? Order a takeaway? Go to a rage room and plaster his face across every breakable thing?” Moving closer, he rests his hand against your jaw, nudging it between your tear stained skin and the soft duvet. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
Sighing, you nuzzle against his hand. “None of that, Lan. I just want to cry and forget what happened last night.”
Swallowing his pride, he nods. “Do you want me to talk to him? I can tell him we’re not in love with each other. Just best friends.” The ending comes out a little bitterly, but he hopes you’re too distracted to notice. 
You smile up at him affectionately. The simple curve is enough to make his heart flutter from where it had picked itself off the floor and wormed its way back into his chest. 
Reaching up to lay your hand over his, lacing your fingers between his, you sandwich it between the warmth he so craved. “I just want to be with you. You make everything better.”
He reflects your smile, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. You wanted him, just him, and for now that was more than enough. 
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papercorgiworld · 8 months
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Sleeping with a prefect
Mattheo Riddle imagine
Mattheo flirts with you because of your status as a prefect. However, you aren’t the only one falling in love. Fluff, smut, dramatics and you get to pick your ending sweet or smutty.
Warning: sweet smut
Picture source: https://pin.it/7BiTOcrKF
A/N: I planned to post something else but at the last moment I didn’t like it anymore, so I decided to finish this instead. I really hope it’s somewhat good. English is not my first language so be sure to feedback me if you spot any errors.
The notorious slytherins had come up with a new scheme to avoid detention. A little game called flirt with the prefect. They all had their appointed prefect that they had to woo, so when they would run into said prefect any consequences could be flirted or kissed away.
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You were surprised when Mattheo Riddle suddenly showed interest in you. Part of you knew that it was suspicious, but Mattheo was charming and incredibly handsome. So, he had you wooed in no time. You would blush and smile at everything he said to you and when he did small things for you like hold a door or carry your books, you would bite your lip and avoid his gaze. You had fallen for him, so bad, and he knew, so well.
The flirting had been going on for weeks and so far they hadn’t run into you during prefect patrol. That was until tonight. You heard laughter in the distance and quietly made your way to the dark hallway from which the noise came. When you see the group of slytherins you immediately start to blush, knowing very well who’s amongst them. “This is at least a week's detention.” You speak up calmly and give the group a little jump scare. Mattheo’s eyes lock with yours and you smile. This is going to be easy. “Oh come on, love, why don’t you join us?” Mattheo asks cheerfully. For a moment you drown in his eyes, but you manage to snap out of it. “Nice try, but how about you all join Mcgonagoll in her office.” “Oh come on, (y/n), Matt has been wanting to introduce you to us for weeks.” Blaise pushes, giving you a bright smile. They all see you light up at the idea of being special to Mattheo. “Okay, guys we’re passed curfew, let’s just leave.” Mattheo says as he walks over to you with a playful smile.
Mattheo hanging with his friends, up to no good.
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“No, you know I’m supposed to guide you to professor-“ You fall silent when Mattheo wraps his arm around you, his hand resting on the small of your back. You rest your hand on his chest in an attempt to keep a little distance. “Isn’t it just a few more minutes before your shift ends?” He asks his eyes never leaving yours. You see his friends leaving out of the corner of your eyes, their laughter makes you feel anxious and insecure. “Hey, let me keep you company.” Mattheo suggests dragging your attention away from his snickering friends. You nod and his hand slips away from you back to hold your hand. You walk around together for a few more minutes and then you check in with Mcgonagall, when you leave her office Mattheo is waiting for you around the corner. Even though he had promised you, you were still a little surprised he was there.
He walked you to your prefect bedroom. “Thanks for walking me to my room.” You sound more nervous than you had anticipated. Mattheo’s lips form an adoring smile and his arm snakes around your waist again. “Thanks for letting me and my dumb ass friends of the hook.” You shake your head. “Don’t get used to it, it was a one time thing, Mattheo.” Your face heats up as you notice he’s gently leaning in. “I promise this isn’t going to be a one time thing.” He says seductively before brushing his soft lips over yours and kissing you with surprising softness. When you break the kiss he lets his forehead rest on yours and watches your face. You looked dreamy, mostly because you had been dreaming of this moment for weeks. Mattheo gives you a soft peck on the lips before letting go of you. As soon as his arm leaves you, you're in desperate need for his warmth again.
“Wanna come in?” You ask pointing at your bedroom door in an attempt to win his warmth back. He stares at you with shiny eyes. This was taking the game too far but he also really wanted you. “Chances are I might never wanna leave.” And with those words it was like he owned you. He made you feel so wanted and loved. That’s probably why it only took a few seconds for him to be on top of you.
Mattheo had almost tackled you into your bed. One of your hands roamed his chest, while your other mercilessly messed up his hair. Mattheo on the other hand had a firm grip on your ass but was mostly interested in kissing you like his life depended on it. You rolled so you were on top and gave him a fiery kiss before sitting up and taking off your shirt. Mattheo watched you with starry eyes and pushed himself up to kiss you. He quickly moved to your neck and shoulder, while you worked on unbuttoning his shirt. Once a few buttons were undone, he just pulled it over his head and you both fell back on the bed again.
After some sloppy kisses you pull away from him and sit up again, your hand traces down to his pants. Mattheo’s eyes already roll to the back of his head at the idea of your touch. You make quick work of his belt and he is eager to help you lower his pants. Mattheo lets out a soft growl as you grip his shaft tightly, your thumb playing with his tip. He closes his eyes as you start pumping his hard cock. However, after a moment his eyes fling back open as he feels your mouth wrap around him. “Fuck, (y/n).” He watches you as you try to take in as much of him as you can. He lets out a few pleased moans and his fingers softly tangle in your hair. Mattheo bites his lip, his eyes glued to your head bobbing on his cock. “You’re being too good for me.” He pants and he closes his eyes again. You swirl your tongue on his dick swallowing his precum. “Okay, that’s it, love.” He suddenly snaps and tugs your hair. You’re a bit surprised for a moment, thinking you’ve done something wrong, but when his lips crash into yours you stop worrying.
“Good girls like you deserve to be taken care of.” Mattheo breaths as he kisses you with passion. He unclasps your bra and in a matter of moments you’re underneath him. He cups and squeezes one of your breasts while his tongue plays with your nipple, circling around it. When both your nipples are perked and covered in his saliva he moves down to your skirt. Now that you’re fully naked he takes in your entire body. “I’m gonna have your pretty cunt beg for me.” Like it wasn’t already. His fingers work tauntingly slow, teasing your folds before pushing in. When you arch your back and buck your hips wanting more of his fingers he leans down to let his lips brush over yours and then moves down to your chest. Your moans turn into whimpers and it encourages him to play with your clit even more, letting his fingers work at a rough pace. “Please. I need you.” You manage to utter. “No no, love, I need you to be absolutely soaking wet for me.” You wimper. “I am. I need-Riddle please.” You beg. “Am I still just Riddle to you. I am clearly doing something wrong.” He says playfully and pulls his fingers away.
His mouth moves from your boobs to your pussy. He eagerly starts eating you out. “Mattheo please.” You beg him as his mouth fucks you, but he’s clearly not pleased with your answer and just grabs a hold of your hips so his tongue can sink in deeper. You feel yourself climaxing. “Matty.” You cry out as you feel your entire body tense. Satisfied that you’re this close Mattheo pulls away adoring the mess he has turned you into. He spreads your legs so he can align his cock with your glinstering cunt. “I’m gonna move in slowly, but I’m going to fuck you so hard.” You can hear how turned on he is by the tone of his voice. His with cum soaked dick easily enters your wet pussy. You still feel stretched and full when he’s inside and your hands push on his chest signaling that he needs to give you a little time to adjust. He lets his cock rest inside you and takes this moment to treat you with soft kisses.
When you wrap your legs around him he starts moving into you softly, but as soon as he realizes you can handle more he’s pounding into you. The pace at which he’s thrusting and his sweaty panting body above you has you feeling feelings you hadn’t felt before. “Rid-Matty.” He looks at you with an amused smile, but there’s something dark in his eyes. “If you call me by my last name like I’m some stranger I’ll pull out and leave you like the mess you are.” You nod with innocent eyes, turning him on even more. Merlin, you're making him go feral. He grabs your hips and slams into you. You grab a hold of your pillow, partially hiding your face as your orgasm washes over you, shaking and moaning underneath him. “(Y/n), you are so beautiful, please don’t hide from me, (y/n).” It came out way more pleading than intended, but Mattheo was so close and his dominant side really needed to see you, all of you. Seeing your pretty and flustered face had him spilling his seed into you.
After that he helped you clean up and put on your pajamas. You helped him find his boxers among the scattered clothes in your room. He didn’t intend to stay the night but his orgasm had drained his energy and you looked so comfortable to snuggle with. It ended up being a night of switching between being the big and little spoon. However, the morning after was so warm and safe that the both of you stayed in too long, having to rush to get ready for class.
***
Mattheo had forgotten his jacket so as soon as you’re ready you go look for him. You spot him rushing towards his friends who’re standing at the entrance of the great hall. “You went out of your way to get us out of detention.” You hear Blaise say as he pats Mattheo’s shoulder. “You seriously slept with her. I mean flirting with prefects is one thing but sleeping with them.” Draco ads before Mattheo can say anything. “Guys, guys.” Theodore suddenly hushes everyone as he points his head, making Mattheo turn around to see you standing there with teary eyes holding his jacket. “You forgot this, Riddle.” You say with a shaky voice as you reach to give him his jacket back. Mattheo’s head tilts and his lips part, he wants to say something, but no words come. He reaches for you, but you just push his jacket into his arms. “(Y/n), what you heard wasn’t true.” Mattheo tries to explain but you let out an angry half laugh. “You don’t need to explain. I get it you whored yourself out of detention. I hope you’re real proud of yourself.” You say it loud enough for some people to catch on. You quickly walk away and Mattheo shuts his eyes, cursing himself.
Mattheo turning around and seeing you.
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***
“Pans, can you pass me those mashed potatoes?” Mattheo asks as he points towards a bowl near her. “Depends, I hear you are willing to do a lot to get what you want, mister manwhore.” Pansy and her friends snicker and Mattheo just gets up leaving his food for what it is. “That sensitive?” Pansy quirks an eyebrow. “(Y/n) quit as prefect and skipped every class today.” Theo explains. “So? What did Matt expect?” Theo sighs. “Apparently, without any of us noticing, Riddle… kind of… fell in love with (y/n).” Pansy’s eyes widened. “No way!”
***
Mattheo had been searching for you the entire day so when he finally spots you walking alone after dinner he rushes towards you. As he’s fast walking in your direction, he feels his anger build up. Anger mainly directed towards himself, but also towards you for not giving him a chance to explain. So when he gets a hold of you he shoves you against a wall. His arms rest on the wall on either side of you locking you in and his angry eyes scare you. “You’re going to listen to me.” He demands and you try to push him aside but it’s pointless. “I didn’t whore my way out of detention. I fucked you because I wanted to! Because I want you. Because I’m fucking falling for you.” When he sees your face soften up after hearing his confession, he calms down and cups your cheek. “I know I screwed up, but you have to give me a chance.” Mattheo’s eyes are desperate and his voice is pleading.
The ‘give me a chance, I need you’ look.
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“You played me. You flirted with me because I was a prefect.” Mattheo’s heart aches as he sees your eyes getting teary. “That doesn’t matter anymore. This, me begging for you to give me a chance, is real.” There’s still doubt in your eyes, but Mattheo wants you. He can’t stand the idea of not having you, especially after getting to enjoy your warmth and love the night before. His fear of losing you peaks, making him clench his jaw. “I want you!! I’ll make you (y/n) Riddle. I’ll make you the mother of my children. Fuck! You want me, (y/n), and you have me.” His voice is filled with harsh desperation, with a clear hint of regret and anger. “I’ve never felt this way before.”
Sweet ending:
Your eyes fall down to the floor and you stare at your feet, not knowing what to think of his words. Mattheo falls silent and drops his arms, giving you space to move away if you wish. His entire body tenses to keep himself from falling apart as he sees your fidgeting fingers. He slowly reaches for your hands, taking them in his and drawing circles on the back of your hand. That you allowed him to do that gave him courage to speak up again with a soft voice. “(Y/n), I-” You interrupt him by squeezing his hand and your eyes lock. “I’ve never felt this way before either. That’s why I’m so scared to get hurt.” You admit with a shaky voice and watering eyes. Mattheo presses his head against yours. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers with a heart gripping honesty.
Slowly your head moves to lay on his shoulder and Mattheo finally finds peace now that he can wrap his arms around you again. “I’m sorry I said that you whored your way out of detention.” You whisper with your head still resting on him. You hear Mattheo softly chuckle and he leans his head against yours. “You don’t have to apologize, honestly, you should’ve said worse. I know I deserve it.” You lift your head to say something, but decide no words can explain what you’re feeling. So you cup his cheek and bring your lips to his.
Smutty ending:
Your silence makes him panic. If he can’t convince you with words, actions might do the trick. He pushes you into a nearby empty classroom. He falls to his knees. “You don’t want to believe me, I’ll make you believe me.” He snarls as he pulls your panties down with a harsh tugg. He immediately diggs in and you let him, reaching for his curls as you buck your hips so his tongue is where you want it. He was going to fuck you with his mouth, fingers and cock until you were his.
Word count: 2645
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mattybsgroupie · 2 months
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sleepover | matt sturniolo
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contents: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); thigh riding (f); p in v; creampie; mommy kink; sub!matt
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notes: i wrote two dom!matt fics in a row i do not recognize myself. back to the sub!matt agenda, somebody has got to do it, i am the chosen one!!! (please it’s a trump meme) this is a silly little one i wrote cuz i’ve been dreaming some weird things these last few days and i’d very much like to fuck matt afterwards. not proofread but hope you enjoy it. always so thankful for every like, comment, reblog and follow, love y’all sm ♡ btw next week i might post a chris request i got idkkk
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i woke up out of breath, sweat dripping from my forehead as i tried to calm down. it was a nightmare - a terrible one, where i no longer had matt and no matter how much i’d scream, my voice wouldn’t come out. my phone buzzed, the screen lighting up the ceiling and part of my room. it was 3am.
i reached for the nightstand, first taking a sip of water and then grabbing my cellphone, checking my notifications. i had one missed call from matt and two other messages, which only read “babe, you up?”
i felt as the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders, my chest gradually lowering as i got more relaxed. i smiled and speed dialed the first number on my list.
“why are you awake!” matt picked up in a surprised tone, not really waiting for my answer. “i just texted you, did you feel it coming or something?” he giggled.
“hi, babe” i said, my voice still shaky. “i just woke up, actually”
“what happened?” matt asked me once again, clearly concerned as he heard how i sounded. i gulped and gave a few taps on my chest as i rested my back on the headboard. “what is it, hm? bad dream?”
“uhum” i nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. he knew i’d soon be curled up between the sheets, trying to fall asleep again. “what about you babe? can't sleep?” i asked, already knowing the response.
matt sighed and i could picture him running his fingers through his hair, trying to not upset me “anxious”.
“i’m sorry to hear that, matty” i pouted from the other side of the screen. “do you wanna facetime?” i suggested what we had done plenty of times. we’d be facing each other, talking nonsense until one of us fall asleep - of course, when things didn’t take a turn to either matt’s or my own horniness.
“actually… was thinking about coming over” i smiled, but he couldn’t see it. he always made me feel like a teenage girl, changing the reason of my nervousness to something silly, like him coming over.
“no way, you’re not getting the road right now” i said, playing hard to get.
“what?” matt sounded confused. “why not?!”
“it’s late and i worry about you” i responded. “don’t you have something schedule for tomorrow?”
“i don’t give a fuck” matt said, “i wanna be with you right now, do you wanna be with me?” i nodded and as if he could see me from there, he continued. “please, mommy?”
“i’m waiting!” i jokingly hang up on him after gasping by the nickname, as if it was too bold of him to call me that.
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i heard three knocks on my bedroom door and didn’t bother getting up. i rolled myself on the bed, waiting for him to join me.
“did i take too long?” matt asked, biggest smile on his face. he locked the door and quickly came next to me, lying down by my side.
“yeah, you know mommy doesn’t like to wait” matt widened his eyes, gulping at my words, realizing what he had done over the phone.
“i just said that so you could let me come over” he said, acting tough as he rolled his eyes before resting his head above my chest, snuggling into me.
“oh, that’s too bad” i pouted, my fingers running through his hair. “you got me all worked up…”
matt quickly raised his head, blue eyes staring at me in surprise, grin growing on his face. “did i? really?”
“of course, my good boy always gets me going” i teased, matt’s cheeks turning red. “why? you came here to sleep?”
“i mean” he started, grabbing my waist, turning my body over and changing our positions. he was now under me, his hands resting on my hips while i adjusted myself in order to get comfortable on his lap. “not anymore”.
matt leaned in for a kiss, holding the back of my head and bringing us closer. i could feel his beard slightly tickling my face as he deepened the pressure of his lips against mine, silently asking to go further by sticking his tongue and teasing me. i opened my mouth and matt’s tongue quickly slid in, the wet sounds taking over my darkened room.
one of matt's hand moved to my breasts, massaging it over the shirt. i gasped for the sudden contact, pulling away from the kiss, which led him to go to my neck instead. he trailed his lips down, altering between biting and licking my skin. my hands went to his hair once again, tangling my fingers on his curls.
matt lowered his head and stopped right above my nipple before looking at me with needy puppy eyes. i nodded vigorously, but instead of removing my shirt, matt hid his face underneath it, streching the cloth in order to fit inside. i felt his wet tongue teasing my nub and since i could no longer pull his hair, i rested my hands on his bare thighs. as matt started to swril his tongue, i threw my head back and couldn't help but start to move my hips forward, trying to get some friction to my already wet pussy.
i let out a moan when his free went to my other boob, his thumb circling the hardened nub that poked through the shirt. i wanted to look at him - wanted to see how his beard looked like rubbing against my skin, which color the hickeys he left would be, how much would the saliva run down my torso.
with my eyes closed and feeling matt sucking my tits, i tried to touch the hem of my shirt in order to remove it, i couldn't stand one more second without looking at his eyes again - however, my palm met something harder, covered by a soft fabric. i groped his shaft and received a muffled moan from matt, still busy in my tits. now with my eyes open i could finally take my clothes off, revealing matt with his messy hair, beard wet from rubbing his face against his own kisses, lips swollen.
“look at me baby” i called and carressed his cheek, “you said you wanted to sleepover and now look at you, already a mess for mommy...”
“i'm s-sorry, mommy” he started, “can't help it, you taste so good”.
“yeah? did you miss me?” i teased, starting to drag myself over his thigh once again. “we saw each other two days ago”
“it's too much” matt complained, hands going to my hips, helping me set a proper pace. “needy again”, he glanced at tent on his shorts, where my palm rested.
“is mommy's baby needy?” i almost mocked him and he nodded pathetically, but still not letting me take full control as he started to pump his legs' muscles, making my pussy clench. i opened my mouth, but nothing came out of it. matt's grip tighetned and he forced my body down, completely leading my movements.
“mommy seems needy as well” matt spoke, smashing his lips against mine. i let out a frustrated whine, wanting to feel more - i needed him inside of me. “aren't you?”
“yes- fuck” i said, trying to come back to my senses regain control of the situation “babe, be a good boy for me hm?"”
when i finally stroked matt's boner, his hands rapdly went to my ass, both palms groping it harshly as i entered inside his pants. i wrapped my fingers around his aching cock, and being the good boy he was, matt lifted up his hips, allowing me to pull down his shorts and reveal his hardened dick. he touched my waistband in response, silently asking if he could do the same to me. i mimicked his moves, letting the fabric slide down my legs.
“thought i had told you to not wear panties to bed” he said, pulling the strings of my underwear. “isn't mommy supposed to be good as well?” matt was driving me crazy with all the teasing.
i suddenly started to move my fist up and down, quickly jerking him off. matt was used with me starting slow and building up his excitement until he climaxed. but tonight, it didn't seem like he wanted to be treated kindly. matt threw his head back and closed his eyes, groaning loudly “f-fuck!”
i brushed my thumb over his tip, matt’s body immediately reacting, jointing his hips forward into my fist. i dragged my finger on his slit as matt’s nails dig into my skin, spreading the pre-cum down his shaft. his breathing got heavier, chest rising and falling quickly while he bit every inch of skin he could reach.
“not talking back anymore?” i asked, gradually stopping my motions, receiving a groan in response.
“mommy, don’t be mean” he pleaded as his sneaky fingers made their way to my entrance, pulling my panties to the side. he kissed my neck, making my eyes roll as i melted into his touch.
“matthew” i caught his attention since i didn’t really use his full name often. “stopping teasing so fucking much and just fucking say it”. he widened his eyes before letting the grin grow wide on his face.
“please, please, please” he said, “ride me, momma”i immediately got out of his thigh, adjusting myself to be in between his legs. i could feel matt’s cock being lazily dragged against my now bare pussy, panties removed as soon as i got up.
i lowered myself on his shaft, nearing my throbbing cunt to his leaking tip. both of my hands went to matt’s shoulders, looking for balance as his grabbed my hips, helping me fully sit on his length. matt’s dick was huge, stretching my walls as he hid his face on the crook of my neck, tickling beard making me giggle as i tried to adjust myself to his size.
“wasn’t so hard, was it?” i asked, getting comfortable to move my hips up. as i started riding, matt wouldn’t say a word, only muffling moans in my ear. he denied with his head, whining as i fastened my pace.
“c-close” he said, gripping tighter. “mommy- fuck”
“hold for me baby” i spoke, already out of breath, bouncing harder on his dick. matt decided to stick his face on my boobs and dragged his tongue along my skin, biting my nipple and holding me by my waist, jointing his hips forward in order to reach his high quicker.
“yes baby, just like that” i praised, matt now pounding mindlessly into me. “good boy, good boy” and that’s what took for him to snap, groaning loudly as his cock twitched and he released the knot on his lower belly, spurts of his warm cum filling my insides.
his spasms brought me closer to the edge, but i wouldn’t stop riding him. i kept on bouncing on his cock, now in search of my own climax. “mommy- mommy, fuck!” matt cried from the overstimulation. his whimpers got louder and so did my moans as my orgasm washed over me, mouth hanging open with my trembling body as i came over matt’s shaft.
i was too tired to remove myself, letting my weight fall over him. matt rolled us over, both of us laying in my bed. he turned to the side and pulled out, the mix of our realeases running down my legs and staining my sheets. matt let out a chuckle as he wrapped his arms around me, bringing me closer to his chest.
“should we sleep now?” i asked, running my fingers through his tummy.
“kid” he called, pointing to my bedroom widow. “the sun is already up” he spoke - as if this was gonna stop us from sleeping till noon. “but that’s why i came here, right? sleepover”
“of course, you’re always so clever” i rolled my eyes and giggled, allowing my body to relax next to his. i closed my eyes and knew that, while matt was around, the bad dreams would no longer come.
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taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattswhore-44 @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattttypooh @sturnsmia @sturnthepot
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saffusthings · 15 days
Text
You Know You're My Saving Grace
oscar piastri x personal assistant!reader
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summary: the one where he comes when she calls. word count: 17.6k (i'm so sorry) warnings: descriptions and talks of abuse, trauma, disassociation, shock, other abuse aftermath, please don't read if any of this stuff is not the vibe, whump, poorly editing writing a/n: this is my first time doing something like this, so comments/feedback would be much appreciated! and let me if anyone wants a part two, bc i'm kinda getting the vibes for a multi-part fic lol
The sound of his ringtone feels louder and louder until finally, Oscar realizes it’s not just in his dream. Blearily, he blinks awake, before reaching across the bed to pick up his phone to check who the hell decided it was a good idea to call him in the middle of the night.
“…Hello?” he asks, voice heavy with sleep. Oscar is a man who knows the value of good sleep - he can’t imagine who’d be calling him at this hour.
He squints, vision bleary from his state of half-wakefulness. Huh? If the car had an issue or if he had a meeting, couldn’t she just wait until morning to brief him?
“Hello? A- Are you there?” she asks, voice hushed.
“Yeah, I’m here. What is it?” Oscar says with a yawn, now more awake, and propped up on his elbow in the bed. He reaches around, turning the bedside lamp on.
“I’m really sorry to disturb you but-”
Her hushed voice is interrupted by the sound of shouting in the background. When the booming voice finally stops, it’s punctuated with the sound of something shattering.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Oscar says quickly, his tone no longer groggy as his mind begins to put the pieces together. 
“Are you alright? Where are you right now?” Oscar asks firmly.
“Shit- I’m sorry, but-” And something else shatters. Suddenly her voice becomes a lot more hushed and a lot more hurried.
“Are you safe right now?” He sits up fully in bed now. He gets out of the bed and heads over to the window, looking down at the sidewalk below to check to see if her car’s here by any chance. No such luck.
“Can you come pick me up? It’s kind of an emergency.”
“Okay, take deep breaths. In and out,” he says, trying to keep her as calm as possible. “Now, where are you?” He haphazardly shoves his head into the first shirt he finds, before slipping into his shoes and swiping up his keys. Once he has the address, he’s quick to run from his apartment to his parked car.
“I’m on my way, so don’t hang up on me, okay?”
“Y- Yes, yeah.”
“Good,” Oscar replies, making sure to keep his voice steady, acting as the levelheaded one. “I’ll keep you talking until I get there, okay?”
“I- I’m not sure I understand, Sir.”
“I need you to stay on the line for me so that I can hear you and keep you safe,” Oscar instructs her, peeling out of the parking lot and speeding through the empty streets.
“I- I’m okay,” she tries in a delayed attempt to reassure him. She’s his assistant, after all - she’s the one meant to be helping him. Though she’s only a year younger than him, she always strives to fulfill her role well, and tries to give her 110%.
Oscar lets out a sigh as he keeps driving. “…Just, stay with me, okay? I should be there in a few minutes.”
There’s some more yelling going on in the background, and it seems marginally closer now. Her throat feels so tight that she doesn’t even register her boss’s voice through the phone.
Oscar immediately calls out her name, his tone sounding a bit more sharp as he raises his voice a bit. He needs her to focus on his voice. 
“Hey, talk to me, are you there?”
“Y- Yes.” Her voice shakes when she speaks.
“Now I need you to do something for me, can you do that?”
“I need you to get yourself into a room, any room, and lock the door, okay?” Oscar says, searching for her address amongst the row of houses lining the block. Different homes line the quiet suburban street, darkened windows and porch lights indicative of their sleeping residents.
“I’m in the corner of my bedroom,” she informs him. “I can’t lock the door or-”
“Okay, that’s fine. Now I want you to just stay there, don’t move and stay on the line, I’m almost there, okay?” he reassures. Why won’t this car go any fucking faster? 
Finally, he slides into the parking right outside the house. He gets out of his car, and heads up the driveway and to the front door.
“Be careful-” she warns, and that’s all he hears before he hears a shout, and then the line goes dead.
“No, no, no, no,” Oscar mutters to himself, his heart rate increasing and his pace quickens as he runs up to the front door. He tries the door handle, before realizing it’s locked. Without thinking, he steps back, before ramming his body against the door in an attempt to force it open. It budges, but only slightly. It does however seem to attract attention, as the yelling emanating from inside seems to come to a halt.
Oscar steps back again, taking in a deep breath. Years of physical conditioning and resistance training means he’s strong enough to break the door down, but he’d probably wake the whole neighborhood up if he does. So, not efficient.
He quickly scans the windows on the first floor, before he spots a small window on the side of the house. Though it's hard to tell in the dark, its position raises his hopes that maybe luck will be on his side. Without wasting another second, he walks over to the window and tries to push it open. It slides open silently, and Oscar quickly pulls himself up and into the house. 
He keeps his movements quiet and careful, eyes scanning the house that’s engulfed in darkness.
It’s then that he’s met with the realization that there’s not one, but two shouting voices - but none of them seem to be the familiar voice of his assistant.
Where the hell is she?
Oscar’s heart begins beating even louder. They don’t know he’s here, but he can still hear shouting from upstairs. Keeping his footsteps light, Oscar slowly heads up the stairs, stopping to listen for anything before proceeding further.
He hears the sound of something thump against the wall with force. 
Oscar winces as he hears it again, feeling his adrenaline spike. Exhales leave his lips in the form of carefully controlled puffs as he forces his heartbeat under control. Worst-case scenarios flash in his mind, and then he’s quickly taking the stairs two steps at a time as he makes his way to the upstairs hallway.
Halfway up the stairs, she pauses to listen, he finally hears the sound of twin pairs of footsteps retreating. As he cautiously walks through the hallway, the shouting gradually gets louder as he begins to approach its source. He finally comes to a stop in front of a door, which has faint light spilling from underneath it. Risking being discovered by an unfamiliar face, he whispers, “Hey, you in there?” He reaches for the door handle and tries to push it open.
He sighs in relief as the door opens, as his eyes quickly adjust to the dark. Scanning the room, his gaze finally falls on her, still sitting in the corner. The shadows only reveal her silhouette, but he knows it’s her. Oscar quickly walks into the room, over to her, and crouches down to her level.
There’s a shattered lamp nearby, pieces scattered on the floor. She’s sitting in the corner, curled into herself, her head tucked in.
He sits down right in front of her, placing a hand on her knee. “Hey,” he says, his voice gentle and soft. “It’s me. I’m here now.”
She’s trembling when he approaches. Barely concealed cuts and bruises litter her body - deep purple blooms and angry white scratches peeking out from beneath sleeves and her collar and the rest of her exposed skin. He looks closer to see whether the mark around her wrist is really the print of a hand, but the sleeve of her shirt conceals the rest of it, leaving him uncertain.
His eyes roam over her now visible injuries. The sight alone is almost enough to make him forget where they are, but reality persists. He squeezes her knee gently.
Startled at the touch, she jerks her head up with wide, wild eyes. 
He came.
“Hey, it’s me,” he says, trying to get her to focus on him. “Look at me. I’m here now,” he says, his tone gentle. He carefully moves his hand to cradle her face, tilting it up as his eyes search hers.
“Hey.” Her voice comes out shakier than Oscar is used to.
The sight of her is jarring - the shivering woman crouched before him looks nothing like the coworker he saw mere hours ago. His eyes move over her face again, taking in every little detail, his eyes lingering on the cut near the corner of her lip for a millisecond longer than usual. 
“Can you stand?” She nods rapidly, even as her legs shake. 
“Alright, come on,” he says, now standing up and holding a hand out for her to take. As soon as her fingers touch his, he feels like all sorts of red alerts go off in his head - she’s cold.
He can easily pull her to her feet with just a light tug, as he helps her up from the corner she was huddling in. He keeps a gentle grip on her as he looks her over again. Now that she’s in a standing position, he notices how her shoulders slump forward, as if she’s instinctively doing whatever she can to make herself smaller. He can only assume it’s because she’s trying to make herself less visible, as if she’s scared of being seen. Or worse.
“Can you walk?” he asks again, gently.
Seeing her boss, seeing Oscar here - feels surreal. 
He notices how she’s still refusing to look him in the eye, as if on instinct. Instead, her eyes are focused anywhere but on his face.
“Hey, eyes on me,” he says, lifting a hand to gently grip her chin and turn her face to his. Suddenly brought back to some semblance of focus, she quickly nods. It feels easier than words at the moment.
Now that her eyes are on him, he takes advantage, as he attempts to assess her state. Her eyes are wide, and he can see the slightest shaking in her hands. 
“You’re freezing,” is the first thing he says, noticing how cold her skin feels against his palms.
“They’ll come back,” she rambles hurriedly. “They’ll come back and they’ll-“
He can hear the rising panic in her voice, as he tries to think of a way to calm her down. 
“Hey, hey,” he whispers firmly, his hand moving to her arm, giving it a slight squeeze to get her to listen to him. “They’re not gonna come back. I’m here, okay?”
The sound of distantly approaching footsteps interrupts him, accompanied by hushed voices. Oscar’s eyes widen in alarm, as every part of him goes rigid. Those must be the people she was referring to earlier, and he’ll be damned if they come back here. His hands instinctively move to her back now, as he pushes her behind him. He shakes his head as he moves so that he’s blocking her completely from their view. His mind works quickly, as he tries to think of a way out of here.
“Be quiet,” he tells her, his voice hushed. “I’m gonna get us out of here, okay?”
She nods silently.
Oscar then starts going over all the potential exits in his head - the windows, stairway, the front door. He knows that the window is too small, and the front door would have them walking right into them. 
That only left the stairs. Shit.
He turns around partially so that he’s facing her again, his eyes flickering over her quickly to check for any new injuries.
“You’re able to run?” he confirms, his voice hushed to keep it from being overheard. She nods rapidly in agreement, desperate to do anything to make the dream of getting out of here come true.
That’s good enough for him, as he gently grabs her wrist and pulls her behind him. Frankly, the man has no idea what he’ll do if she’s not able to keep up, but he sneaks over to the bedroom door, quietly opening it so that he can peek out.
She listens for a moment. “They’re downstairs. In the room right under this one.”
A small plan starts coming up in his mind, as his expression morphs into something more serious. 
“Okay,” he starts, as he takes a glance back at the stairs. “When I say ‘go’, I want you to run down the stairs. Go, and don’t stop. I’ll be behind you, okay?”
When she shoots him a wary look, he’s quick to project that collected, self-assured image that he’s well known for.
“Just trust me.”
He can hear the footsteps in the room down below moving around, as the voices get slightly clearer, meaning they’re getting closer to the stairs.
She swallows hard. It does nothing to quiet the loud hammering of her heart in her chest. He sees the look in her eyes, and he can clearly tell how terrified she is. It’s up to him to gently push her in the direction of the door. 
“It’ll be okay - trust me,” he says softly, hoping it's enough to reassure her for this moment as he readies himself at the bedroom door.
He can hear the voices more distinctly now, and his pulse spikes up anxiously. He’s got to do this right, otherwise they’ll never have another chance. For a moment, everything falls silent, and the only thing either of them can hear is their own heartbeats as it threatens to beat out of their very chests. They wait there, poised to leave, their breaths held.
“Okay, go,” he says firmly, as he practically throws her out of the bedroom door and into the hallway.
He’s out right behind her, running down the hallway. He can already hear the voices in the room below turning to confusion as they hear footsteps. It’s in that moment that he realizes that he’s still gripping her wrist, and he mentally berates himself that that’s the only thing he can do. 
It feels like everything is moving in slow motion as they bolt down the rest of the stairs. She can feel her legs and her heart is hammering in her chest and she’s not sure she’s ever been so afraid in her life. But Oscar Piastri is here, and he acts like he knows what he’s doing, and so she does the scary thing and follows his lead.
Despite how hard they’re running, it still feels like they’re not moving fast enough, as he can hear the sound of the door down below swinging open. His grip on her wrist tightens as he practically yanks her to the front door, throwing it open with his free hand. Desperation fueling his every move, he pushes her out and follows right behind her, fighting every urge to look back. 
He’s never been more thankful to see the sleek metal of his car as he practically pulls her over to it. Throwing the passenger door open, he gently shoves her into the passenger seat and shuts the door behind her. Instincts override all else as hops into the driver’s side of the car, starting his engine.
Everything’s in flashes - Oscar’s grip yanking her along, the hard pavement beneath her feet, the night wind whipping in her hair, the rapid thumping of her frenzied heart.
He can barely focus on anything besides getting the hell away from that house, as he pulls the car out, driving as carefully as he can without drawing attention to them. Now that they’re seated, she finally takes a few shaky breaths, trying to allow her brain a moment of reprieve so that it can catch up.
He glances over at her. In the artificial lighting of the car. There’s a beat of silence throughout the car, no noise other than the sound of the engine, until he speaks up,
“You okay?”
She nods dazedly. His eyes move back to the road as he grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. 
“Are you hurt?” he asks, his eyes not leaving the road. He takes another left turn. 
“Yeah,” she breathes. Her voice still doesn’t sound like her usual self when she speaks, but Oscar is glad that she’s at least saying something. 
Having a moment to breath turns out to be both a blessing and a curse as her thoughts begin to run haywire. God, why did she bring him into this whole mess? She had tried calling the McLaren front desk but no one answered, and so Oscar’s was really the only other option whose number she knew by heart.
He takes another glance at her, noting her fidgety hands, and his tone softens again as finally catches his breath. 
“Can I see your hands?”
“M- My hands?” She looks up at him with wide eyes.
His eyes linger on her face for another second, taking in the wide-eyed, somewhat startled expression. 
“Yeah, your hands,” he clarifies, his tone a bit more gentle. “Lemme see ‘em, yeah?”
She nods once in quick agreement, but is so out of it that she forgets to actually give him her hands. He reaches over, gently taking one of her hands in his much larger ones. He runs his thumb over her fingers and knuckles, taking a closer look at her hands now.  They’re shaking violently in his grip, though that’s probably from the adrenaline and panic rushing through her body right now. His face falls the moment his eyes land on several of her knuckles. Some are badly bruised, and some more have small scrapes and cuts on them. He’s actually surprised that there’s no blood. 
He gently runs his thumb over the scraped knuckles, his fingers slightly curling around her hand.
“Ouch,” she says, voice sounding more faraway than it should. “I think that hurts.”
“Yeah, I’d say it hurts,” he responds gently, still continuing to gently run his thumb over the scraped knuckles on her hands. It then that he spots a nasty bruise on the back of her hand, which is in stark contrast to the surrounding skin. 
His eyes narrow when he sees the obvious shape of a handprint.
Coming to the same realization, she steals her hand away, tucking it back into its sleeve. Since when is the car so cold? He glances over at her, but her eyes are averted from him, looking out the window. 
There’s an unsettling feeling in his chest when she tucks her hand into her sleeve, as if she’s trying to hide it, and he knows why.
She holds her hands tightly together, as if desperately trying to warm them. Or to stop them from shaking. It’s unclear which of those it is.
Perhaps it’s both.
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Oscar lets out a quiet sigh of relief when they arrive at his street, but he’s still focused on her. 
He takes one hand off the wheel. 
“Hey - listen to me, alright? We’re here now, and it’s gonna be okay,” he says as he tries to park the car. “That’s all you need to focus on, okay?”
“My heart…” she trails off. “It’s beating really fast.”
Instead, he responds with a soft, “Yeah, I know. I know. You’ll be okay, though, alright?” 
“Here’s what we’re gonna do, alright?” he says, his other hand still on her shoulder. 
“We’re gonna get out of the car, and I’m gonna take you upstairs, and we’ll get you all settled, yeah? And we’ll get some ice and stuff on those hands of yours, and we’ll just take it easy, yeah?”
Directions help thought. The way he talks her through it… it gives her things to focus on, details to center her attention toward. She nods, looking up at him.
“Let’s go,” he offers gently. 
She nods, allowing him to guide her. It feels a little bit like a lighthouse in a storm - your sole light, sole direction in the midst of the chaos and turmoil of everything else. She looks up dazedly at her lighthouse as he pulls her gently out of the car. 
Her lighthouse happens to have kind brown eyes.
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He manages to unlock the door and push it open, and he holds it open for her to enter in before him. “Don’t go anywhere yet, alright? We gotta get some ice and antiseptic on those hands of yours first.”
“It’s nice,” she comments softly, looking around. She's been here before, of course - bringing him files he forgot late at night, waking him up when he overslept for a meeting, delivering his trainer-approved meals for the week so he can stock up his fridge. 
But never like this. She’s only ever been here as his personal assistant, not like… this.
Surveying the room, she notices things she hadn’t had the time to notice before. His apartment is more just plain simple then it is minimalist, but there’s still the odd touches here and there to make the place more personable. Throw blankets folded haphazardly on couches, potted plants stacked into a bookshelf by the window, a stereotypical wall of photos - there’s bits of Oscar’s touch scattered across the space. The air itself smells like dishwasher steam and some warm candle she can’t discern the name of.
He smiles, gently squeezing her wrist, tugging her to make her follow him to the bathroom. The light flicks on as they walk into the bathroom together, and he immediately steers her over to the small sink. 
Shades of charcoal contrast with white porcelain, making up the picture of the bathroom. There’s a hand towel hanging embroidered with a little whale on it, and a ‘rustic’ looking soap dispenser that turns out to be plastic upon closer inspection. As she notices the cool overhead lights, she feels warm hands guide her to stand in front of the sink, before gently letting go of her wrist so he can reach over to pull out the first-aid kit that’s likely been sitting there since his mother snuck it into his things. 
“Keep your hands up underneath the faucet,” he instructs, opening the box and quickly finding the antiseptic before turning his attention back to her. She audibly grimaces at the feeling of the freezing water seeping into her skin. The water pressure falls against her bruises and washes into the small cuts littered about her hands as well.
“Shit-” she winces.
He gently wraps a hand around her wrist again, tilting her hand from side to side to get the water flowing over all the scraped and cut parts of her hand. 
She immediately goes to pull her hands away from the stream of water, but his grip around her wrist doesn’t let her pull back by much.
“It’s too much, please, s’too much-“
The movement that she makes to pull away has his grip on her hand tightening slightly to keep her still, not letting her jerk her hand away like her instincts want her to. 
“Hey, hey, no,” he says, his tone still soft and gentle. “I know it hurts, but I gotta do this, alright?” 
His hand continues to hold hers in place, the water continuing to run over her cuts and scrapes. She whimpers in pain, still fighting him to pull her hand away. The unwanted tightening of his grip also reminds her of the events of tonight - a person’s hold on her that won’t go away even when she tries.
Immediately, her body responds by trying to pull back even more.
His eyes widen when she suddenly jerks back to pull her wrist back hard, as if she’s trying to fight him away. Instinctively, his other hand goes to gently grip the underside of her forearm, in an attempt to get her to stay still. 
“Hey - hey, we’ve gotta stay still, alright?”
“Let go of me,” she thrashes, trying to peel his hand off her. “Get your hands off me!”
Her struggle has his concerned expression growing more and more worried. He’s trying to calm her down, he really is, but the cuts need to be cleaned, so he has no choice but to tighten his grip on her. 
“You need to stay still,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady as she continues to struggle. “I need to get your hands cleaned and antiseptic on them, alright? You’re making this more difficult-”
“Stop!” she practically shrieks, voice hoarse. She scrambles away from him, prying his fingers off her in her panic and backing against the wall of the bathroom like a frightened animal. “Don’t touch me!“
When she finally manages to jerk her hands out of his grasp and back up against the wall, he can practically feel a pit form in his stomach. He immediately holds his hands up, as if in surrender, but still takes a step towards her.
“Stop! Stop!” she cries. “P- Please, please don’t do this.”
Caught off guard, his eyes widen and he holds his hands up again, simultaneously taking small, careful steps towards her. 
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he tells her, keeping his voice soft and gentle, but firm enough that it’d incline her to believe him.
She can feel her heart pounding in her chest, her lungs gasping in quick bursts of air. Her chest is heaving wildly as she struggles to just breathe and her eyes are wild as they dart around the room, refusing to focus on anything. 
When Oscar looks at her - wild eyes, flushed skin, and frantic breathing - it’s difficult for him to not go over to her to hug her, to comfort her in some way, but he’s afraid of spooking her even further than she already is.
“Hey,” he says again, trying to get her attention again. “Hey, look at me, okay?”
He waits for her eyes to shift towards him, which takes longer than he’d like it to, but he can’t push her. Her panic is high and he has to take this carefully and gently. 
“I’m not going to hurt you. Alright? I swear. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe, alright? You’re safe.”
Her eyes flicker towards him again, and he takes another step towards her, only for her to jerk away again and press more firmly against the wall. Her irises reflect an even greater degree of panic now, and the pit in his stomach deepens. 
“Hey,” he says again, a bit more firm this time. “Hey, look at me. I need you to trust me, okay? I’m not going to hurt you.”
He takes another step towards her again, trying to keep his stature as non threatening as possible, while keeping his tone firm, but gentle. 
He wants to reach out and pull her into a hug. He wants to wrap his arms around her and soothe her, and promise her that he’ll keep her safe. But she’s pressed so hard against the wall like she’s trying to fuse with it, that he doesn’t want to risk sending her into a panic attack by touching her.
“Alright,” he murmurs, as he takes another step closer, closing the distance further. “I’m gonna try something, alright?”
He waits for her to respond, but all she does is look at him, wide eyed. He takes that as permission enough to continue, and slowly reaches out, gently gripping her wrists.
She clenches her eyes shut, trying to fight her breathing into control. He tries not to use his full grip on her as he gently takes hold of her wrists, but the way she turns her head away, as if she’s bracing herself for something, as if she’s scared he’s going to hurt her, makes that tightness in his stomach worsen.
She nods, a tad slower this time. Her heart is still thudding against her rib cage, but warm, honey-brown eyes meet hers.
He takes a deep breath, the kind that’s meant to release some of that live wire feeling from his muscles, his thumbs still soothingly stroking the inside of her hands as he speaks. “I’m not going to hurt you, alright?” he says again, his tone quiet, but firm. “I need to get your hands cleaned. D’you trust me?”
A beat of silence.
“I’m gonna bring you to the sink, alright?” he asks quietly, continuing to state his actions aloud in advance. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I just need to clean your hands because there’s blood all over them. You trust me?”
After a moment of her eyes flitting across his face, she gives him an almost imperceptible nod. Despite the firm grip around her wrists, she focuses on remembering that this is Oscar.
Oscar Piastri.
The same Oscar that ran late to meetings because he kept stopping to pet street cats while they were in Jeddah.
That Oscar.
Careful not to let go of her or make any sudden movements, he slowly starts to tug her towards the row of sinks, taking baby steps so as to not startle her again.
He takes careful note of how she responds when he phrases it as a question - like she’s somewhat included in the decision-making process, that it’s not just being done to her. He can see that maybe some of the tension in her body has left her and she’s not as taut as she had been against the wall, but something in his gut tells him they’re far from being out of the woods yet, and he needs to proceed carefully.
“We’re here,” he says quietly, as they reach the sink. He turns on the water, making sure it’s warm, but not too hot, before he looks towards her again. 
She’s still breathing pretty heavily, but her panicked eyes have cleared somewhat, as if she’s not quite as panicked as she was before. 
“We gotta get your hands cleaned up, alright?” he says again, as he turns to look back at her. “Will you let me clean your hands?”
Slowly, her face turns towards him, her eyes still a bit out of focus. He swallows hard. “Hey,” he says, his tone gentle and quiet. “I’m gonna touch your hand now, alright?”
She moves her head in a single nod, and it’s all he needs, and he slowly eases one of her wrists from his grip. He gently, slowly, carefully turns one of her hands so that her palm is facing up, so he can start cleaning the blood off of it.
“W- Will…?” she tries to ask, but her voice comes out shaky and hoarse.
“Will it hurt?” he asks, finishing her question for her. At her slow nod, he gently shakes his head no, as he continues to hold her wrist with one hand, and starts softly wiping the blood away from her injured hand using a clean bit of tissue with the other. 
“No, I’m being very careful,” he assures her, his tone soothing. “I’m very gentle, I won’t hurt you, yeah?”
She watches carefully as he works. He’s surprisingly careful and gentle, taking care to pay attention to each and every part. The lighting of the bathroom paints him as a portrait, his eyebrows scrunched, his lips pressed together in concentration. Smooth fingers delicately dance across the skin of her hands, wiping them with feather light touches.
He can feel her gaze on him as he works at gently wiping the blood off her hands, keeping his pace slow and steady. Each movement is careful and precise, and he does his best not to hurt her more than she probably already is as he cleans the blood and dirt off her skin. He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to distract her, but every so often, his gaze sneaks up to glance at her face anyway.
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“Thank you,” she murmurs into the late hours of the night, sat atop the surface of his bathroom sink. “For coming tonight.” Oscar had never even considered a universe where he didn’t. Of course he’d be there. “Of course, anytime," he tells her. “But you know you don’t have to thank me.”
She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t understand, she doesn’t know that she’s so much more than just his assistant, and that he cares more about her than just as the person who brings him his coffee and files his paperwork.
He mutters under his breath, his hand holding her chin. “You’re not just my assistant, alright? You’re so much more than that, you’ve always been more than that to me.”
Her brows furrow, trying to understand. “I mean, I’d like to think we’ve become friendly over the past two years-“
Friendly. Friendly. It’s so much more than that. 
“Friendly,” he laughs, practically mocking the word. “That’s not even close to what I mean, and I don’t think you’re stupid enough to not know that.”
“Unless you’re trying to call me stupid, I’m not sure I’m understanding what you’re saying.”
“You’re not stupid,” he sighs. “I’m trying to tell you that I care about you much more than just my assistant. How do you not get that?”
There’s a beat of silence where she tries to process the words, turning them over in her mind as she analyzes them. When she speaks, her voice is quiet, her tone polite. “That’s kind of you to say.”
Kind to say? Kind? 
It feels dismissive, like she doesn’t quite believe him. But the truth is - he’s not being kind, he’s trying to tell her the goddamn truth, and she doesn’t believe him.
Her eyes scan his face, looking for any indication that he isn’t being truthful. She knows his tells by now - almost two years of paying attention to him when he lies to get out of an interview or when he fibs about how late he’ll be to the meeting. She knows these habits of his, his little quirks. 
She knows him. 
He nods, his eyes holding her gaze. 
The fog of night settles around them like a haze, silent and ever present. Looking at his face, pale skin reflecting moonlight and irises dark with exhaustion, he appears like a dream. When he’s stood before her like this, after everything that unfolded tonight, time seems to transcend reality. 
“Thank you,” she whispers, throwing her arms around him. She almost doesn’t care that her dislocated shoulder is screaming in pain - she adjusts it marginally to make it a bit more comfortable. She hugs him in gratitude, eyes closed so the tears of relief don’t slip out.
He freezes as soon as her arms go around him, stunned, but his body quickly catches up to his mind. His arms wrap around her immediately, like it’s an instinct. One of his hands slides gently up her back to rest against the back of her head, holding her to him. “You don’t have to thank me,” he manages to gasp out, his words choked, as he tightens his grip on her.
When she goes to pull away, it’s almost like he’s acting on autopilot, like his body is just moving on its own, without regard for reason. He gently grasps her arm again, his fingers wrapping lightly around her wrist, and he gently pulls her back towards him, his other hand resting gently but firmly against her hip.
Oh.
He has her against his chest again, her smaller frame held against his, and his brain registers just how good this feels, how right it feels - having her in his arms like this.
If she could just get her heart, that has randomly decided to beat out of her chest, to calm down, then maybe she’d be able to speak. She’s breathing fast, her heart beating a mile a minute against his chest.
Then, he does the stupidest thing in the whole world when she starts to speak, something he’s been silently wanting to do for months now. He bends down, ignoring her starting words, ignoring absolutely everything but the fact that he wants to do this, and finally closes the rest of the gap between them. His lips press against hers, silencing the rest of the words she’d been saying.
She’s stunned. Her brain is somehow working both too fast and not at all at the same time. What the fuck just happened?
She freezes in place, completely still.
He freezes as soon as he breaks the kiss, realizing in a flash that he just kissed her. His assistant. 
He kissed her. He had kissed the woman who basically helped run his entire life for the last two years, the woman who probably had no idea how he feels about her, and still thinks they’re just boss and assistant. Perhaps not his best work. 
His brain scrambles, trying to come up with some sort of an explanation, anything to justify what he just did.
Immediately, he’s desperate to hear her voice, to prove to him somehow that he hasn’t just ruined everything. He needs her to say something that will indicate that things won’t be horribly, terribly awkward between them after this.
She tries her hardest to come up with something to say – she really does. But she keeps coming up empty. So instead, she follows the next impulse her brain comes up with: she pulls him closer by the shirt and kisses him.
Oh. He sure as hell wasn’t expecting that. 
For a single beat, he’s frozen, stunned, like his mind can’t really comprehend what’s happening. Then, all at once, his whole body reacts. He responds in record time, calloused hands cradling both sides of her face as he kisses her back. He kisses her with fervor, with a passion that he’d been holding back for months, ever since he realized that he had feelings for her. The kiss is desperate, as if he’s afraid he’s going to never be able to kiss her again, as if this is his one and only chance at having her like this, in his arms, against his body.
She pulls away out of her body’s need for oxygen. Stupid oxygen.
When she does pull away, she looks up at him, tentative, hesitant – she both needs to and is scared to see how he will react.
He groans as she pulls away from him, and his lips automatically try to follow hers as she moves, as if he’s unwilling to let her move away from him, as if he needs her to always be this close to him. When she finally does move away from him, his arms automatically loosen their grip around her, though his hands stay on her. He looks down at her, his breathing coming in short pants, and he can’t help the look of awe that appears on his face.
She ends up being the first to speak. “That was-“
His brain automatically tries to finish her sentence for her - he’s spent so long with her, working with her, that it’s almost second nature to him now, to try and finish her sentences when she can’t find the words. 
“A mistake?” he supplies, his tone suddenly hesitant as he watches her. Part of him knows that it’s true, that this shouldn’t have happened, that he shouldn’t have kissed her. 
Another part of him doesn’t give a damn.
“Oh.” Truthfully, that wasn’t what she was going to say. In fact, if it were up to her, there was a high likelihood that she would have said it was nice. Really nice.
She had never kissed anyone before, but if every kiss was just as spectacular for everyone as this one was for her, then she could certainly see the appeal. That certainly doesn’t seem to be the case for Oscar, however.
Subconsciously, she pulls back, away from him.
“No,” he says, his hands immediately moving to grab her again, to stop her from pulling away. He gently tightens his grip on her, wrapping his arms around her, and pulls her back against his body. 
“It’s just that-“ he starts again, trying to find the right words, “You’re, well, you’re my assistant. You work for me.”
“Yeah,” she breathes half-heartedly. “Yeah, I’m aware.”
Oscar can hear the resignation in her voice, the disappointment. He hates that he put it there, but he can’t help the feeling of relief that washes through him as he realizes just how okay she is with the fact that he’s her boss. 
“I’m just saying that it’s-“
His brain scrambles for the words again, his mind trying to think of some sort of excuse, some sort of reason why she, his assistant, is here in his arms, why he’s holding her against him.
“It’s alright,” she says, trying to steady her voice as she slinks out of his arms. “I understand, it was a mistake for you.“
“No, it wasn’t a mistake!” he protests, his tone sounding more insistent than he’d intended it to. He mentally smacks himself - he’s the one who started telling her that it was a mistake, why in hell is he sounding so mad now that she’s agreeing with him?
He reaches out, wrapping a large, strong hand around her wrist.
“I’m trying to explain myself and I’m doing a shit job at it, aren’t I?” he says, his voice half amused and half frustrated.
“Yeah,” she laughs lightly, breaking some of the awkward tension. “Yeah, you kinda are.”
Some of the tension between them does ease - her laughter is a good sign, he thinks. She’s relaxed enough to laugh with him, and so he can breathe a little easier.
“It’s just-“ he starts, trying to think of the best way to try and explain. He can’t say I’ve had feelings for you for months because he’s not sure she feels the same way.
She watches him fumble over his words for a minute, first trying this sentence then that. After a moment, some deity has mercy on him, and she decides to help him out a little.
Her hand, gentle, barely there - goes to rest on his shoulder. She’d squeeze his shoulder reassuringly if everything wasn’t broken or bruised right now. Instead, she settles for rubbing it gently up and down against his arm.
“Breathe. Tell me what’s going on in your head,” she offers gently, her kind eyes looking up at his. 
She’s the only one who knows him like this, he thinks. The only person in the world who would know when and how to give him a moment to collect his thoughts, knows how he prefers green tea or energy drinks instead of coffee, knows what his tells are.
He looks at her and finds the same kind face that become an integral part of his life and function over the last two years. Sure, it looks a bit different, with the cut on her lip and the bruise peeking out of her hairline - but the face is the same one that’s been unbearably patient with him on hard days but also kept his ego in check on the good days.
God, the timing may be awful, but… it’s her.
Her hand, small and gentle, rests gently on his shoulder, rubbing it up and down to help soothe him and calm his mind, and it works. 
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he gathers his thoughts - he has to tell her something, something that’ll let her know that what just happened was more than just some sort of a “mistake”, that there was something behind it.
“Talk to me,” she prompts him quietly.
He takes another deep breath, opening his eyes to look down at her. Her hand is still on his shoulder and he lets the feel of it ground him. He hesitates for a beat - he isn’t sure how she’ll react to what he has to say - but he has to say something, and so he decides to just speak and not think. 
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he says, making sure to keep his tone firm, like what he’s saying is absolute fact.
“Okay,” she acknowledges, tone carefully neutral. There’s a pause there, a moment for him to think. A small, kind smile appears on her face, trying to reassure him. She can clearly see there’s something else he’s trying to say - he’s just having trouble finding the words.
“C’mon, you know the drill. Talk to me, even if it’s messy. And then…” she takes a deep breath, as if to steady herself. “And then we can figure it out from there.”
It’s what they always do - whenever he’s excited about an idea or rambling about a theory or trying to figure something out, this is what they do. She lets him ramble to her about it, no matter how disorganized or chaotic or downright crazy he feels he sounds. And then, they parse through the craziness together. It’s gotten to the point where people around the paddock joke that she’s the one who can understand what he’s saying when he’s like this - Lando will often drag Oscar over to her office before a meeting to have his ideas “translated from yapanese” for the team to understand.
He looks down at her, at that kind, familiar smile of hers, and he feels something in his chest relax and loosen. He knows how this works, how they work, and he lets himself fall into the familiar rhythm of it all, even if this is different than every other time they’ve discussed ideas or ranted about something - this is foreign territory, and that makes this all the more scary. 
He takes another deep breath, looking down at her, and he just… speaks.
“That thing that just happened,” he starts, his voice still firm and insistent, even though his heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest. He looks down at her, and he makes sure that she’s not just hearing his words, but also listening to them.
“It wasn’t a mistake. It was…“
He hesitates again, struggling to find the best words to explain why he did what he did.
“It was…?” she tries to prompt. However, she’d be lying if she said her heart wasn’t also frozen in anticipation.
“…A confession.”
He says the word with such finality, as if now that the word has been spoken, it’s the absolute truth - as if it can’t be denied. 
“A… confession?”
Her question makes him falter - he can’t quite read her tone, can’t figure out what that question means. 
She can’t be that stupid, he thinks - she’s smart, one of the smartest people he knows - there’s no way she’d be that confused by the concept of someone confessing to someone else, so he can only assume that she’s asking him why he’s confessing.
Instead, what she does say comes completely out of left field for him. 
“Look, it’s been a long night, and…” she trails off. It seems it’s her turn to search for the right words now. “And I get it. People do weird things when emotions or adrenaline is running high. I get it, I do.”
There’s a pause before she continues, finally settling on what it is she’s trying to say. “So I’d understand if that’s what this is. Was. Is. Whatever.”
His brain stalls when she speaks. 
No, he thinks, no. That’s not what this is, this isn’t just some sort of “adrenaline rush”, this has been building up between them for at least a few months now, if not longer. 
He stares at her, frozen as he tries to figure out what to say - how does he convince her that this is more than just a stupid thing caused by adrenaline?
“I- I’m giving you that out, I guess,” she finally says. “If that’s what you’re looking for.”
God, why the hell does it feel like her heart has suddenly forgotten how to do its job, beating irregularly instead?
She’s giving him an out - she’s saying that if he wants to just sweep this whole thing under some rug, she’ll believe him. She’ll believe him if he says it was just a moment of “weakness” or “high emotions”. That maybe that’s all it really was.
God above, that’s the last thing he wants - he’s spent the last month trying to keep his hands to himself, trying to keep his feelings in check…
“Hey,” she calls softly. Her voice sounds a lot less scared, a lot less uncertain than she feels. “I need you to talk to me, yeah?”
He looks down at her - her tone is still gentle and reassuring, telling him that she’s open to listen to him, that she wants to listen to what he has to say. It takes a lot for her to speak this clearly and calmly, especially given everything that’s happened, he imagines. 
He reaches up and gently wraps his fingers around her wrist again - he needs to touch her, needs to feel her, needs to know that this is actually happening, that this isn’t some weird fever dream. She winces as his fingers wrap perfectly around the hand shaped bruise that’s already developing around her wrist. She tries to bite back the grimace before it slips out, but it’s still there. He instantly notices her wince, her grimace barely suppressed, and his hold loosens on her wrist almost instantly. 
“Sorry,” he says quickly, his eyes scanning over the bruise that’s already forming around her wrist, anger flaring through him as he looks at the angry, dark mark. He gently prods at the bruise, testing to see just how bad it is.
“It- Shit- It’s okay, I should’ve been more careful.”
His jaw clenches when she winces again when he pushes against the bruise, and all he wants to do is go find her parents and beat the ever-loving crap out of them for having the audacity to put their hands on her like this. 
He’s careful when his fingers brush over the bruise, his touch light as his fingers ghost over the injury.
“…You were saying something?”
Damn. 
She’s so damn calm at the moment, and it’s making this all the more difficult for him. It would be easier if she was crying or yelling, because he knows how to handle those outbursts, but damn, she’s so put together right now. 
His gaze softens as he looks down at her, his hand moving from her wrist to cup her face. 
“You have to know,” he says softly, his voice steady, “that wasn’t a mistake.”
She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her eyes look up at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate.
He knows that he should probably take a step back, give her some space as he tries to find the right words to help her understand, but he just can’t make himself do it. He keeps his hand on her face, thumb gently stroking over her cheek. 
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he repeats again, his voice still soft and firm. “It wasn’t an adrenaline rush. It wasn’t a-“
He almost says he didn’t mean to do it, but the words feel like a lie. And he’s tired of lying.
“I- I’ve wanted to do it longer than I can remember,” he admits, his voice quiet. “And I don’t know if that makes me a horrible person or not, but that’s the truth.”
He watches her face, searching for a reaction, trying to figure out how she’s processing all of this. He hates the fact that she’s so stoic, so neutral - it’s not her. She’s expressive and animated and she’s always letting him know what she’s thinking. 
She leans a little bit closer to him. Her eyes flit upwards, meeting his, before looking back down again, to where they’re both standing just inches apart from each other. They’re now standing so close to each other that she can feel his warm breath mingle with her own.
Then, she kisses him.
He’s frozen when he feels her breath ghost over his lips. 
He’s not expecting her to kiss him, not after everything he’s just said. He’s expecting, if anything, for her to step back, to tell him to give her a minute to cool down. But, when her lips brush against his, it takes him a few seconds to register what’s happening. Once his brain does catch up, his reaction is immediate. His hand gently grabs her face, pulling her back in as he kisses her back.
The initial kiss this time is awkward, hesitant, clumsy. It has all the trademarks of someone who hasn’t really done this before. But it works nonetheless.
Her soft lips brush against his – once, twice. Right after is when she finally puts her poor heart out of its misery, and tilts her face ever so slightly so she can press her lips against his, her eyes falling closed.
The feeling of her lips against his is like electricity - he feels goosebumps erupt on his skin, and he lets out a low sound from the back of his throat as he responds to the kiss. He gently cups her face, tilting her face up more, wanting more - needing more contact, needing to feel her and taste her.
She can taste him. He tastes like saliva and jaffa cakes and that little bit of toothpaste from when he probably brushed before bed. It’s so uniquely him that she fears she could get high on it.
The sound she makes when he deepens the kiss a little, his tongue slipping into her mouth, is a muffled thing, almost a whine. His brain is struggling to process everything that’s happening - it almost feels like he’s drowning in her, slowly drowning in everything that’s her. When they finally pull apart for air, their gazes are immediately drawn to one another.
His hand lingers on her face, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip - he can’t help the way his eyes are glued to her face. He tries to sort through the thoughts in his head, but most of his brain is just completely shut down right now, trying to process the fact that she kissed him. 
She was the one that kissed him - she initiated, she made the first move.
“That was…” she trails off, breathless. Something akin to molecules of light dance in chest thrumming in her veins and tickling her fingertips.
He nods slowly, his lips curving into a small smile before he lets out a soft huff. “I didn’t expect you to make the first move," he admits, his voice quiet. “I actually thought you’d be mad as hell.”
“I kissed you back before too,” she reminds him.
He lets out a soft huff of laughter, his smile widening. 
His gaze is still focused on her face, and his thumb brushes over her jawline in a soft, soothing gesture. 
“That you did,” he agrees softly. “Why?”
“Honestly?” she asks.
“Honestly,” he affirms, his smile still on his face, his gaze still on her. He gently grabs her chin to ensure that she’s looking at him as he waits for her response - and so he can look at her.
“Because when you kissed me I was caught off guard, and so I just froze like an idiot,” she rambles. She takes a deep breath, trying to be a bit more calm and collected. “Because it felt like the right thing to do. And honestly?” she pauses. “Because it felt really, really nice.”
The confession makes his smile widen into a grin. 
“Oh did it now?” he asks, his voice quiet. His tone is teasing, almost sly as his hand moves from her chin to her neck, his hand wrapping gently around it. 
“It felt nice?” he repeats, his thumb gently stroking over her pulse point.
She hums thoughtfully. “Enough that I did it again.”
“You did,” he says, his grin never leaving his face. 
He takes a step closer, his hand on her neck gently pulling her closer, his body now pressed against hers. “I think you need more experience though,” he murmurs, his voice quiet. “You should probably… practice. Frequently, if possible.”
“Yeah? You think so?” Her smile is small and weak, but it’s there.
“Oh absolutely,” he agrees. He loves the fact that he’s the one who’s making her smile when a minute ago, she was trying so damn hard to stop crying. 
“I think it’ll help you… perfect your technique,” he says, his voice quiet as he moves his hand from her neck to her hair, playing with the strands of hair. She shuts him with another kiss - this time, her lips lock firmly against his, her hands splayed out flat against his chest.
This one takes his breath away.
His response to the kiss is immediate, nearly automatic. His hand in her hair moves to her waist, pulling her closer as her hands make contact with his chest. He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat - almost a moan - as she kisses him, as she’s pressed up against him. 
“…How’s that for technique?”
His brain takes a few seconds to turn itself back on - he’s practically stupid after that kiss - but he eventually manages to put together a response. He lets out a soft laugh, his hand moving from her waist to her hip, holding her close against him. 
“Oh yeah,” he agrees, his voice slightly rough. “That’s a good technique, yeah. But I think you might need a few more… practice rounds. To truly get a feel for it.”
“Oh? Sounds serious.”
“Very serious,” he says, his voice still hushed, his fingers now tracing soft lines up and down her hip. “It’s important to be well-practiced in this skill.”
His hand moves from her hip to wrap around her waist, grabbing her more intently, his hand spanning the entire width of her waist. 
“And I don’t mind providing the… equipment you’ll need for more practice.”
“Hmm,” she hums, pretending to consider it. “I could be talked into that. Maybe over coffee…?”
His grip on her waist tightens - just briefly, just for a moment - at her words. His brain is struggling to put words together right now, and the idea of coffee with her doesn’t help. He’s trying to get his head to stop spinning, and the last thing he wants to do is say something stupid, but all he can think about is her - the feel of her, the taste of her lips. 
“Yeah,” he manages, his voice still hushed. “Yeah, coffee. Coffee sounds nice.”
She gives him a small smile. It's faint, but at least it's there.
Standing close to him, she lets her bods lean in against him. Her head falls against his chest as the two stand there in his bathroom. Silence envelopes them, allowing her a moment to breathe. It's been a whirlwind of a night, with both highs and lows.
He lets her lean against him, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her tight against him, his other hand moving to gently cup the back of her head, his fingers gently stroking her hair. 
He’s silent as well, his chin resting on her forehead as his hand strokes her hair. He’s not thinking, not really. He’s just existing, just… feeling the comfortable weight of her against him.
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“Sit down on the counter, yeah?” he says, his voice still soft. “And take your shirt off, I need to see the damage.”
"No." 
His hand that’s been gently stroking her hair stills at her response. “Why not?” he asks, his voice still soft and gentle. “I won’t hurt you, I just want to check you over.”
"I'm not taking my shirt off," her voice shakes. Oh, right. 
He realizes the issue. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to,” he says quietly, his eyes focused on her face. “But I’ll have to patch you up, and I can’t do that with your shirt on. Just your top half, yeah? I won’t look at anything else.”
"I..." her voice quivers, as she tries to think of a way out.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed or scared,” he says quietly. “It’s just me. There’s nothing I haven’t seen,” he assures her. “I just want to fix you up a bit. That’s it. I won’t look anywhere else.”
"It- It's not that..." she eventually stammers out.
“Then what is it?” he asks, his voice still soft and gentle. “You can tell me.”
"I, uhm, can't?" she says awkwardly so it almost sounds like a question.
“You… can’t?” he asks, a frown settling on his face as he tries to work out what she means. “What do you mean, ‘you can’t’?”
"My left shou-" she grimaces in anticipation of what she's about to tell him. Fuck this.
His frown deepens at her grimace - a sense of foreboding and worry sets in. “What’s wrong with your left shoulder?” he asks quietly, dread already building inside of him.
"My left shoulder," she tries again. "I can't, uh, move it much."
It's dislocated, she should tell him, but she can't seem to bring herself to say the words.
His heart nearly stops in his chest at her words. God, what have her parents done to her?
He tries to keep his voice calm and even when he responds, but it’s a struggle. “You can’t move your left shoulder at all?” he asks quietly.
"Just this-" she says, demonstrating by moving her arm about four, maybe five inches off her side. She winces when her shoulder screams in protest.
“Your shoulder is dislocated, yeah?” he asks, trying to keep the worry and dread out of his voice. “That’s why you can’t move it?”
"Yeah," she answers..
“How do you know it’s dislocated?” he asks quietly, his voice still steady.
“Not my first rodeo,” she says, an attempt at humor to break the tension. He desperately wants to ask who did it, what happened. He doesn’t want to press her for the details now, when she’s in enough pain as it is. 
He’s silent for a moment, trying to figure out the best strategy to take her hoodie and shirt off. 
“Alright,” he says eventually, his voice soft. “I’m going to take your hoodie off, yeah?”
Hesitantly, she nods.
He hesitates for a moment himself, worried that he’ll do more damage to her shoulder - but there’s no way around it. 
He gently grabs the hem of her hoodie, and starts to carefully pull it over her head. A slight gasp escapes his throat as soon as her bare arms and collarbone are revealed.
“Ahh!” She bites her lip, trying to muffle the sound as white hot pain shoots up through her shoulder at being moved.
His hands release the hoodie and pull back the minute he hears her gasp, his jaw clenching to stop himself from swearing. His eyes roam over her collarbone and arm, taking in the deep bruises and angry red scratches. 
She’s biting her lip so hard she’s worried it’ll split open again. Fuck, moving that shoulder hurts. She’s trying her best to contain it, but hot tears prick at her eyes.
Oscar’s gone concerningly still in front of her.
The moment the hoodie finally comes off and he’s left with the full view of her body, the breath gets stuck in his lungs. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t bruises and scratches and scars. God, the sight of it feels like a damn sucker punch to the chest.
He wants to say something, anything - but he’s so incredibly angry that words just don’t come. He’s paralyzed by anger for a moment, before he’s able to pull himself together - but the fury is still there. The sight of her bruised, cut and beaten body in front of him, her arms covered in scratches, her collarbone a mess of deep purple, and her lip split… it’s a rage he’s never really experienced in his life. He has to take a deep breath to keep himself composed. 
Once it’s finally off, she lets go of the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Immediately, her gaze goes to Oscar’s face to note his reaction.
He does his best to keep his face neutral, although his expression still betrays a hint of anger and outrage. He doesn’t want her to know how much it all angers him - because, knowing her, she’d try to say it wasn’t as bad as it looks or that it’s not a big deal. 
But to him it is. It’s the biggest deal in the world.
She sits before him now in just a bra and pants, and his eyes take the opportunity to scan over the upper half of her body. He takes note of each detail - the bruise beneath her hair line, her split lip, the one around her wrist. 
Scanning lower he finds more. When he finally takes a look at her torso, he has to try and force himself not to visibly react.
It isn’t easy.
There’s a nasty bruise on one side of her collarbone, he briefly wonders how much force it actually takes to bruise a person’s collarbone. He sees the shoulder he’d reset for her - it looks sore still, but it seems to be doing marginally better. 
But what his gaze lingers on is the parts he didn’t get to see before - the deep blue mark that blooms on the left side of her rib, the deep red scratches on her side and her forearm that were previously concealed by the hoodie. 
He lets his eyes linger over each bruise or injury that he finds. Every single one of them makes him angry again - that somebody put their hands on her body, left their mark on her skin, hurt her.
She can feel her heart rate spike when he moves closer, but she does her best to stay perfectly still for him. Seeing the way she tenses up and her heart-rate increases, he knows that she’s scared. 
This is why I hate your parents so much.
“Lean back on the counter,” he instructs, his voice still soft. “Let me look at your shoulder.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She pulls in a tight breath, like both inhaling and exhaling hurt too much with the pain shooting through her arm. 
He’s completely focused on her - all he cares about right now is getting her shoulder back in the right place and getting her patched up. He watches as she struggles to breathe through the pain, and it hurts him. It hurts him that he can’t do anything to help her, that he can’t take the pain away. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says quietly, both for his benefit and hers. “Just lean back for me, yeah? Don’t worry about anything else. Just let me look.”
She leans back - gradually, as if it hurts her to move every centimeter. A shaky exhale finally escapes her once she’s leaned all the way back.
He takes a moment to survey her collarbone - it’s even more bruised up than he had originally thought. His eyes linger on one particular spot that looks an awful mix of pinks and deep purples, and he wants to rage until his vocal cords give out. But she needs him to be calm and logical right now, so he pushes down the anger as much as he can. 
His eyes next move to her shoulder, and he grimaces slightly. The joint is visibly swollen, and it’s clearly out of place. A wave of nausea overtakes him as he thinks about how much pain she’ll be in when he moves it. 
“I’m gonna have to move it into the right place,” he says quietly. “It’s going to hurt - but try and relax for me, yeah?”
Nodding, she takes a shaky breath. It’s then that she speaks up, voice strained.
“Could you… could you talk?”
He’s a little surprised by her request, but he understands why she wants it. Any sort of distraction will take her mind off the pain, so that’s exactly what he’ll do - he’ll talk. “Yeah,” he says quietly, his eyes focused on her face. “What d’you want me to talk about, exactly?”
“Anything,” she mumbles. “Just… Just talk.”
He hates that he’s about to cause her even more pain, but he knows there’s no way around it. The longer they wait, the more it’ll hurt in the end. 
One of his hands reaches out and cups her cheek, gently stroking her bruised skin. “I’m going to count from one to three, yeah?” he tells her, his voice still quiet. “And on three, I’m going to move your shoulder back into place. Ready?”
She nods.
“Okay, here we go,” he says, his voice still soothing. 
He places his other hand on her upper arm to get a good grip.
“One,” he begins slowly, his eyes fixed on her. “Two…” 
He notices the way she’s tensed up against the counter, bracing herself for the pain. “Relax,” he instructs quietly, his thumb rubbing her cheek. “Just listen to my voice. Don’t think about anything else. One more counting till three, and then it’ll be done. Deep breath. Ready?”
Once he’s satisfied that he’s given her enough time to mentally prepare, and now it’s time to finally deal with her shoulder. 
“Just listen to my voice,” he tells her again, his hand still gently stroking her cheek. “Okay, one… two-“
She nods. She’s just begun to inhale, when-
Without any further warning, the muscles in his arm tense as pushes her shoulder back into place.
“Shit!”
He’s never heard her scream like that before. His heart clenches in his chest at the pain she’s in, the way she’s screaming, the way he’s caused her even more pain. 
“I know, I know it hurts but it’s done now,” he says quickly, keeping his voice soft. “It’s over, okay? You’re okay. Just breathe.”
She chokes out a dry sob, until it finally devolves into short whimpers of pain. He hates this so much. He hates the fact that her shoulder is in so much pain, that she’s sobbing, that he had to be the cause of it. 
“You’re okay,” he repeats again, trying to reassure her. “It’s over now. I know it hurts, but it’ll get better. I promise.”
She falls limp against him from the exertion, as the whimpers meld more into soft murmurs, her breath hitching as her body adjusts to the relocation of the joint.
As her body slumps against his, he brings his other arm around her, gently guiding her into his chest. He holds her against him, hoping that the physical contact will reassure her. 
“You’re okay,” he repeats again, speaking into her hair. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. Just breathe for me.”
She continues to whimper in pain, the soft whimpers being the only sound in the bathroom. Oscar feels as a few stray tears fall against the fabric of his shirt, wetting it.
His heart clenches in his chest at the feel of her tears. He can’t even begin to imagine how much pain she’s in. 
“I know it hurts,” he repeats quietly, bringing one of his hands up to gently pet her hair. “I know it hurts, love. But it’s almost over, I promise. You’re doing so good. Just breathe for me, yeah?”
She gives him a weak nod. Feeling a bit more settled at that, she resumes leaning against him. Eyelids droop, heavy with exhaustion - it has been a long night.
He feels the way she’s gradually going limp in his arms. He understands that she’s been through enough tonight. “Let’s at least get you seated, yeah?” He suggests quietly. “You look tired. We need to get you taken care of and then you can rest, alright?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs, nodding into his chest.
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Her voice is soft when she speaks, like a cool balm. “I am sorry.”
He almost laughs at the absurdity of that statement. 
“Don’t apologize,” he replies, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”
“For throwing this all on you, I mean. I… I should’ve thought twice before putting all this on you – I know it’s a lot. I didn’t mean to bring you into this mess when I called you tonight, and that’s on me,” she explains.
How is she even worried about him right now? How? He almost wants to laugh, she’s so ridiculous. “Don’t you dare apologize,” he mutters, gently tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Don’t- I- God, you have absolutely no reason to apologize, alright? So just... stop.”
“You’re upset,” she replies, observant. “Maybe I’d even say angry, if I didn’t know you any better.
He tries to find an argument against her claims - he tries hard. He tries to deny it, at least a little bit, to make himself seem better somehow. But he can’t, and she’s too observant to let him slip one past her anyway. “Maybe angry is a generous assessment,” he admits, his jaw clenching again.
Her eyes are drawn to his face, waiting for him to elaborate.
“I’m pissed,” he finally responds, his voice still somewhat restrained. “God, I’m pissed. I’m angry. At them - at your parents.” His eyes dart to hers to check her reaction, to see if he’s crossed a line.
“You have no idea how angry I am, actually,” he continues, his frustration rising more and more by the second. “I am… furious. They laid a fuckin’ hand on you.”
She listens to him while she reaches out to gently clasp his hand in her own, bringing it closer to her, guiding him to rest his palm in the space between her fractured collarbone and where her bra covers her chest. His hand is placed directly over where her beating heart lies. 
“Do you feel that?” she asks softly, looking up at him.
He nods wordlessly, his anger and frustration momentarily subsiding to give way to the feeling of her heart beating. Her pulse is thumping against his palm, her heart racing beneath the skin of her chest, and all he can do is watch her intently.
“I’m here,” she whispers, brushing a loose lock of hair back from his forehead. “I’m alive, I’m okay.”
He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until the moment she touches him. His shoulders sag as he lets out a breath, his hand gently rubbing the skin where her heart beats as if it would help soothe his temper. 
“You’re not okay,” he replies quietly. “You’re... the opposite of okay, Y/N. I don’t know why you’re trying to pretend like you are.”
“I’m alive,” she counters gently. He wants to argue - he wants to tell her that being alive doesn’t mean being okay. He wants to insist that she’s not okay, to try and convince her that she’s been hurt, that she-
But he knows that it’s a pointless exercise. She clearly refuses to admit there’s a problem. Instead, he shakes his head in frustration before gently shifting his hand to graze her injured ribs. 
“You’ve made your point, Oscar,” she concedes quietly, wincing at the contact - a very real reminder of the damage done.
He knows he’s won the argument, but he doesn’t quite feel victorious. 
“So why are you still pretending like you’re okay?” he asks, shifting to sit on the bed next to her. 
“I felt bad for making you worry. I feel relatively okay, I mean.” She pauses for a moment, and her voice gets quieter.
“When I called you tonight…” The way she suddenly drops her voice has his jaw clenching again. 
“What about it?” he asks, trying to keep his voice patient. It’s like he wants to hear what she has to say but is also dreading the answer at the same time.
“When I called you tonight…” she says, trying desperately to make sure her voice doesn’t shake. “It was because I thought I was going to die.”
There. It’s out in the open now.
“I called the front desk at MTC first, and then my friends, but it’s the middle of the night, so naturally, they didn’t pick up. Yours is the only other number I know off by heart.” She exhales, letting out a soft chuckle. “I guess I’ve had to call you so much for work that dialing your number was muscle memory.”
She takes a deep shaky breath, before continuing. “So yes, I know things are bad. God, you don’t think I know that? Of course I do. But right now I find it hard to throw myself a pity party when I’m so fucking grateful to be alive, to have gotten out, to be here.” With you. To be here with you, she was going to say.
“So, there it is,” she mumbles. It’s there, out in the open for him to hear and dissect and know. The confession is a lot to take in, especially coming from her. She’s always so collected, so composed, so good at keeping a cool head. He takes a moment to try and process everything she’s just told him, his mind struggling to grasp the reality of it all. 
“You-” he begins, still struggling to find the right words. How do you tell someone that you’re glad they’re not dead?
He eventually settles for reaching forward and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her to him gently for a careful hug. 
“I..“ he begins, stumbling over his own words as he struggles to get his mind to form a coherent sentence. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m so goddamn glad you’re here,” he finally manages to say, resting his forehead against hers.
Foreheads touching, his face so close to hers… the moment is quiet and intimate. It makes her glad she’s alive, that she didn’t die before she could experience this with him, that she’s here with him now. Her eyes are closed but a few tears of relief slip past anyways. The feeling of her tears against his skin nearly breaks him in half, and it’s everything he can do to reign in his own emotions right now. Just hold it together for her. That’s all he has to do - just hold it together long enough for her. 
“Hey, hey,” he whispers as her tears wet his skin. “You’re safe now. I’m... I’m here, and you’re safe.”
“God, I was so scared, Oscar,” she cries quietly, shaking against him. Her words and her sobs send a sharp stab of pain through his heart, his arms clenching a little more, holding her a little tighter. 
“I know, I know,” he mutters, his own voice shaking as he fights to maintain his composure. He can’t break down when he needs to be strong for her. “But it’s okay. You’re here, and you’re okay, and you’re safe.”
It takes a few minutes of reassurance before he feels like her crying is slowing. Her body is still shuddering in his arms though, and he lets her cling to him, letting her bury her face in his shoulder. His hand finds its way to the back of her head and he runs his fingers through her hair, trying to provide any comfort he can.
Finally, once she settles, her sniffles tapering off into what resembles normal breathing, Oscar tilts her head up to look at him. He notes the exhaustion in her face, in her body. It’s been a long night, for both of them.
“You need sleep,” he mutters quietly, his hand still tangled in her hair.
“Can’t,” she mumbles, giving him a small, lazy smile. “My really hot nurse won’t let me rest until he’s patched me up or something.” He rolls his eyes affectionately at her, unable to help a smile rise to his lips at her comment. 
“Very funny,” he mutters, shifting his hand around to rub her jaw gently between his fingers. “Let’s get you cleaned up, smartass.”
“Least m’your smartass,” she mumbles under her breath, before carefully sitting herself upright again so that he can finally finish patching her up.
“You think I’d let anyone else call me a hot nurse?” he retorts, pushing himself up and standing in front of her. He takes a moment to study her body – all of her body – in front of him, trying to take stock of the damage.
“Would you?” she asks curiously, her head tilted drowsily.
His eyes take in the way she looks; disheveled, he concludes. Her hair is completely ruffled, the skin of her stomach littered with scratch marks and bruises, and god, those dark blue marks on her chest and collarbones - he has to push down the anger that threatens to rise to the surface again. 
“No,” he replies after a moment, his eyes roaming over her body again. “Absolutely not.”
“Yeah?” she smiles softly, a glimmer of something sparkling in her eyes before she tilts her head back, closing them. He continues to work on her when he hears her mumbling.
“I think I like that.”
“Which part?” he asks, his voice soft as he wipes at a particularly bad-looking scratch. “Me not letting anyone else call me a hot nurse, or the fact that you’re the only one who does?” he teases a little as he continues to gently clean her.
She winces at the feeling of antiseptic against her cuts.
“Hmm, both,” she hums.
His heart leaps at her words, a little thrill of excitement rushing through his gut. He tries to hide the way his cheeks warm at that, busying his hands with  cleaning a particularly ugly scratch on her collarbone. “And what if I also said you’re the only one I’d call my smartass?”
She audibly hisses at that one, her collarbone sensitive from the fracture. Trying to relax a bit, she focuses her mind back to his question. “Yeah?”
“Mhmm,” he hums in agreement, gently pressing another piece of gauze against the cut. 
“I’ll be your smartass if you’ll be my dumbass,” she offers.
He actually laughs at that, a bright sound in the dark room. “I’m a dumbass, huh?” he asks, looking up from his work to smirk at her.
“My dumbass,” she corrects, “if this deal of ours works out.”
 A small, happy smile rises to his lips at her words. 
“Your dumbass,” he echoes, his heart fluttering again. 
Your dumbass. 
He could probably get used to that. He continues to work over her skin gently, carefully cleaning each bruise and scratch.  “You know I don’t like sharing, right?” he says after a minute, breaking the silence with a hint of possessiveness in his tone. His face is twisted in careful concentration as he works, only pausing to smile or laugh or react to her comments.
She likes his smile, she decides. And perhaps his hair, too.
“Good,” she replies. “Me neither.”
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 “Goodnight” he says quietly, before slowly taking a step back and switching off the lights. He heads towards the door, quietly switching off a bedside lamp on the way out. 
“If you need anything, just let me know,” he says, pausing by the door to throw a glance over his shoulder. 
“…Osc?” she squeaks out, voice small. At the sight of Oscar about to go, leaving her on her own in this dark and foreign room - even if it is Oscar’s -  has her heart beating a little harder in her chest. After everything that happened tonight, being left like this has something resembling fear melting her chest like hot wax.
This room is dark and foreign to her - she doesn’t have the layout memorized, or the exits, or hell, even the light switches. Which means that if she were to be in danger again–
“Yeah?” he prompts gently, his voice quiet in the dark.
“Do you…” she hesitates, before finally deciding to just do it. “…Could you stay?”
He pauses for a moment, the request taking him a little by surprise. “Yeah,” he replies, his voice quiet. “Of course I can stay.”
The anticipatory tightness in her chest loosens a bit at that.
He walks around to the other side of the bed before slowly slipping under the covers next to her. He tries not to think about the feel of her body heat next to his, as he adjusts his position slightly to try and give her as much space as possible.
She lays there for an unknown amount of time, but sleep eludes her. For some unknown reason, despite having the longest night of her life and being exhausted beyond belief, her body feels as taught as a live wire.
Still, she tries to even her breathing as a sleeping person would, making an effort not to keep shifting around. There’s a high probability Oscar’s asleep, and she doesn’t want to disturb him.
Oscar is, in fact, not asleep. 
He’s acutely aware of her body next to his, every little movement, twitch and twist of her body. She’s trying to stay as still as possible, and for a minute he wants to point out that she doesn’t have to, that she can make herself comfortable - but then she lets out a small sigh of frustration, and he decides to say something instead. “Can’t sleep?” he dares to whisper, breaking the silence.
She freezes at the sound of his voice. Shit.
“Yeah,” she admits, voice small. “You?”
He gives a small shake of his head, keeping his voice low like . 
“Nah,” he says, his voice a little groggy, “I’m awake.”
For a long moment, silence falls between them again. He can literally feel how tense she is.
After a long moment passes, she asks, “Why?”
That actually gets a small snort out of him. “Could ask you the same question,” he retorts quietly, shifting slightly in the bed. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Unh unh,” she tuts in denial. “I asked first.”
He chuckles quietly at her response. “Can’t shut my brain off,” he finally relents, keeping his voice quiet as he tries to answer her question. The comfort of night embracing them like a favorite blanket has a way of loosening people’s tongues. “Too much thinking going on up there right now.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
There’s a brief moment of silence before he speaks again, his voice soft and gentle. “Can I ask you something?”
She hums drowsily, granting him permission.
He hesitates for a moment, trying to find the right words to phrase his question. “Why did you ask me to stay?” he finally asks, not sure whether he’ll get an honest answer from her or not.
“You’ll think it’s stupid.”
“I won’t think it’s stupid,” he reassures her quietly, shifting in the bed next to hers. “Just… tell me, alright? Please?”
She’s grateful she’s still turned away from him at this point.
“It just…” she trails off awkwardly, unsure how to explain. “I dunno. Just thinking about being here, on my own, after everything that happened at home…”
She shrugs. “Even thinking about it made me feel… kinda like antsy? I don’t know how to explain.” She huffs in frustration, trying and failing to find words that sound more coherent than whatever the hell this response has been so far.
“You… you make that go quiet.” She mumbles quietly. And then, even quieter: “You feel like… like safe, I guess.”
Oh.
He’s honestly a little stunned, at both her admission and her choice of words. 
You make that go quiet.
You feel like safe. 
After silence takes the place of any audible response from him, she painstakingly makes the effort to turn over so that she can face him in the dark.
“Is that… weird?” she asks nervously.
“No,” he rushes to reassure her, his voice quiet and a little strangled with emotion. “No, it’s not - I just…”
He trails off for a moment, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “I just wasn’t expecting that to be your answer,” he admits hoarsely.
“Oh,” she replies dumbly.
He’s glad he’s lying in the dark right now. 
She’s turned over to face him, and the thought that she’s laying a mere few inches away from him, with a bruised and battered body and telling him that he’s her comfort, is both the most amazing thing he’s ever heard and also so painful his chest physically aches. 
He clenches a fist around the sheets.
“You want to know what I’m thinking?” he finally asks, taking the opportunity to shift the conversation away from her question.
“Always.”
“That if I ever met your parents,” he finally admits, his voice pained and his breath hot against her neck, “I’d probably break their goddamn jaws.”
She winces at his words. She turns away from him.
He immediately grimaces at her reaction, sitting up slightly in the bed as he sees her turn away from him. “No, don’t turn away,” he says quickly, his hand reaching out reflexively to grasp at her nearest arm.
He gives her arm a little shake. “Hey. Look at me,” he instructs, his voice low.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she replies coldly.
He falters for a moment, taken aback by the coldness in her voice. “And why’s that?” he questions, still reeling from her immediate retreat.
“Because I am tired,” she deadpans.
There’s a long moment of stunned silence as he processes her response, and then she hears his bed creaking faintly before his voice rings out in the dark. 
“Come here,” he orders quietly.
“Why should I?”
“Because I said so,” he replies, his voice still quiet. 
He shifts on the bed, moving closer to her. “Come here,” he says again, a hint of gentle firmness in his voice. Disguising it as stretching, she moves marginally closer to him. The second she shifts closer to him, he takes action, moving until he’s directly behind her. He scoots closer to her, his body curled protectively around hers, and wraps an arm around her torso. 
“There,” he murmurs. “That’s better, right?”
She lets out a small huff. Just because being in his arms is surprisingly warm and comfortable and soothing doesn’t mean she’ll just forget what he said about her parents.
“It’s… fine,” she lies through her teeth. He needs to know that the matter isn’t resolved that easily.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it is,” he replies sarcastically, not falling for her half hearted attempt at indifference. 
“I know -” he lets out a quiet huff, his arm tightening around her before he even speaks. “- sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean to…”
“I- “
For once, he’s at a loss for words, his thoughts swirling around in his head. 
He did mean the words. They were true for a reason, after all. 
“Don’t -” he finally tells her. “- Don’t you dare feel sorry for them, you hear me? Just- just don’t, alright?” He shifts, moving his face away from her neck to speak. “You don’t need to feel guilty at all for the way they’ve treated you, and for the shit they’ve put you through,” he says fiercely.
She sighs exasperatedly, letting her eyes fall short for a moment. 
He knows she’s not as receptive as he’d hoped, but he can’t stop himself from spitting out the next few words like a curse. “I don’t care that they’re ‘family’, or that they’re your parents - because they’re abusing you. They’re hurting you in the name of ‘tough love’ or whatever shitty reason parents think they have for treating their kid like that,” he all but growls out in the dark.
After a beat of silence, she asks quietly, “…Would you ever like to hear me say that about your own parents?”
He opens his mouth, and then closes it again. Once, twice, and maybe even three times, until finally, he manages to force out a response. “…That’s not the same,” he tries, and immediately wishes he had just kept his mouth shut. He sighs, swallowing hard before mumbling out a confession - “It’s just…“
He presses his face into her neck again, his breath coming in heavy, uneven puffs as he struggles to keep himself together. “They’re supposed to protect you, goddammit,” he grits out against her skin.
“Yeah,” she agrees softly.
“They’re supposed to care about you,” he all but mumbles into her skin, his fingers tracing circles mindlessly against her stomach as the angry words spill out. 
“Okay.”
“It’s not ‘okay’,” he grits out. 
He tightens his arm around her, shifting slightly until he’s got a thigh over her legs as if he’s holding her in place. 
“You’re not the one who’s wrong here,” he adds, frustrated with the fact that she’s the one who’s bruised but he’s the one who’s getting choked up.
“Let it out,” she encourages softly, gently stroking her thumb across his cheekbone.
Goddamn it. Something about the way she says it, like she’d be willing to share the burden of the sky if that’s what he needs - it gets to him. He’s trying to be the strong one here, the one who’s supposed to be protecting her - not the one on the verge of a goddamn breakdown. But she’s just too damn sweet. 
He lets out a quiet huff and buries his face in her neck again. “Okay,” she agrees. “Whatever you need.”
“Stop with the agreement thing,” he mumbles into her skin, his voice frustrated even though it’s lacking the edge from before and more filled with emotion. 
He swallows hard, his hand tightening momentarily on her stomach. He’s angry at himself for so many reasons.
He’s angry that she got hurt and he can’t take away her pain. He’s angry that he’s got a goddamn lump in his throat right now because he can’t handle seeing her hurt. He���s angry that he’s the one getting emotional when she’s the one who’s supposed to be falling apart. 
“Hey, hey, hey,” she coos softly, using her hand to gently guide his face out of the crook of her neck so she can actually look at him. “What is it? What’s going on in that head of yours, hmm?”
Those eyes are really going to be the death of him. He swallows hard, shifting slightly so he’s facing her a little better. 
“I’m not supposed to be the one falling apart right now,” he admits, his voice coming out quiet - so quiet that he almost hopes she misses it. “It’s not… it’s not going how its supposed to go.”
“Oh?”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, his fingers tapping uselessly against her stomach.
“It’s not going how it’s supposed to - you’re supposed to be the one falling apart, and I’m supposed to be the one picking up the pieces,” he mumbles out, his voice still quiet. 
“But now I’m the one on the verge of losing it, and you’re being annoyingly sweet and supportive and nice and I don’t know what the hell to do with that.”
“Okay,” she tells him, her voice all level and sure and reassuring. “Okay, that’s okay.”
He takes a shaky breath, and it’s taking everything in his power to not bury his face back into the crook of her neck because the feel of her skin against his might actually help. 
“No-“ he shakes his head, his voice quiet again. “It’s not. It’s not okay. You’re supposed to be the one falling apart right now, but I’ve got… I’ve got this damn knot in my throat and I can’t tell if it’s anger or guilt or something else-“
“Breathe, Oscar. You gotta breathe for me, okay?” she says, gently rubbing her palm up and down his sternum in what she hopes is a soothing motion.
She doesn’t know that the gentle touch against his skin is a little too much right now, the feel of her palm across his bare skin and her voice in his ear and just the sight of her looking at him with that kind look in her eyes is making his head spin. 
But he does as she says - tries to steady his breathing, letting it out in slow, even puffs as her palm moves up and down his chest. “There we go,” she says, giving him a drowsy smile. “Just like that, yeah? You’re doing so well f’me.”
“Jesus,” he mutters, clenching his jaw for a moment because of the way her words make something in him flutter. “That’s not helping,” he grits out, his voice coming out a little rough as he takes another slow, shaky breath.
“Alright,” she says, her hand stopping its movements. “Okay, I’ll back off.”
“No, no-“ He shakes his head quickly, his fingers grabbing her wrist to bring her hand back down against his chest. 
“Just- Keep going,” he says, his voice coming out gruff and quiet. “Don’t- don’t stop that, just-“
He swallows hard, closing his eyes for a moment. She can probably tell he’s still a little shaky, but she listens to him as her palm tentatively starts moving over his chest again, and she lets out a soft exhale. He closes his eyes when he feels her hand on his chest, a slow exhale of breath leaving his lips involuntarily as her palm glides across his skin. 
He lets go of her wrist and moves closer, his head dropping against her shoulder, and mumbling into her skin. “M’sorry. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “This is dumb. I’m freaking out over nothing.”
“Is that what you would tell me if the roles were reversed?”
“No,” he responds, almost immediately. 
He would tell her that she had every right to feel what she felt, and he would pull her close and tell her that she should let him help carry the burden, and he would do anything to keep that sweet, broken look off her face.
“Then I need you to believe me when I say – I get it. I understand why you’re freaking out – anyone in your position would. You can’t be calm and collected 100% of the time, and no one expects you to. No one.” 
Her hand traces broad strokes around his body - across his chest, over his shoulder, up to his cheekbone. She finds herself playing with the locks of hair that keep flopping onto his forehead.
He tries to steady his breathing as her hand continues to glide gently over his body, the touch of her fingers against his skin and the feel of her body so close to his is making his head spin all over again. He feels himself shiver as her fingers brush over his cheek and through his hair, leaning into the touch. “How are you always so goddamn patient with me,” he grumbles, lifting his head slightly to look at her.
She shrugs.
In the sacredness of whatever this bubble is that exists here and now, the words slip past her lips before she can even think of stopping them.
“It’s like breathing.”
She’s really going to be the death of him one day. The fact that she doesn’t even need to think about it just makes him want to pull her close even more and press messy, thankful kisses against her skin. He swallows back the urge instead, trying to regain some of his composure. He lifts his head, taking her in as she continues to gently trace her fingertips over his face.
“You’re thinking something,” she notes, fighting back a yawn.
Her words drag his attention back up to her face, and he can’t help a small, lopsided smile at the fact that she’s tired right now because of how well she knows him. 
“Is it that obvious?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Maybe not to other people. But to me it is.” She gives him a small smile. “My whole life revolves around knowing you.”
He’s almost certain that he stops breathing for a moment, because her words are like a punch to the chest for multiple different reasons. Of course he knows how much of her work life centers around him, but it's the way she says it.
It means that she knows him better than anyone.
And, when paired with the fact that she’s half-naked - in his clothes, no less - and just inches away from him right now it just makes it even harder to control that flutter in his chest.
She brings him back to the present. “But I need you to talk to me,” she says, tentatively trying out the pet name again after he’d said no earlier. “Need you to tell me what you’re thinking so we can figure this out, yeah?
He pauses for a moment, then speaks, his voice low and coming out a little grumbly.
“If I tell you, you’re not going to like it.”
“Maybe. But keeping it in will only make it worse, won’t it?” she smiles sadly.
She waits for him to continue, her fingers slowly tracing the skin of his jaw. She can basically see the thoughts rushing through his head. He leans into the touch a little more than he means to, his eyes half-lidded as he tries to get the words out. 
“It’s just…” he repeats, his voice coming out gruff as he swallows again. “It was so hard to stay calm, alright? I was trying so fuckin’ hard to stay calm, but Christ, you just…” 
He takes a shaky breath. Before he can continue, she speaks.
“You did so well. You kept your cool, you were exactly what I needed when I called you to come get me tonight.”
“Oscar, you need to get it out of your system. I know you’re angry. Your allowed to be, as long as…” she pauses, taking a steadying breath. “Just… talk to me.”
He glances at her again, gauging how she’s reacting before he continues. He takes a shaky breath, swallowing hard. 
“It’s just…” he repeats, his voice coming out barely a whisper now. “When I saw you… and all the… the marks, and the cuts, and the… the scratches-“
He breaks off abruptly, trying to regain control of his breathing. His fingers start tapping restlessly against her stomach again, trying to soothe himself. 
“It just made me so… angry. And the fact that they left these goddamn marks on you- goddammit, you don’t understand how hard I had to resist just punching a wall right then and there.”
She nods in understanding, tucking herself a bit closer to him by leaning her forehead against his chest.
He lets out a shaky breath as she leans against his chest, his arms instantly wrapping around her, pulling her close - his grip isn’t hard enough to hurt her, but it’s tight enough that he has her completely pressed against his body. One hand comes up, reaching up to grab gently at her hair, guiding her even closer to him.
“I’m sorry I put you through that,” she mumbles, voice weary, against the fabric of his shirt.
He makes an instant noise of protest at the apology, shaking his head. 
“No,” he says, almost sternly. “No, don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, alright? None of it is your fault. ”
The emotions that have been curling in his gut like a hot coil fuel the stem of his words. “They’re idiots,” he continues, the word spoken fiercely. “They have no idea how goddamn lucky they are to have you as a daughter, and even less of an idea about what they’ve just done to you.” 
His hand in her hair continues to brush through it, almost on autopilot, trying to soothe her and him. Oscar is surprised when instead of staying silent or outright refuting what he’s said, he finds her mumbling against his chest.
“I guess so.”
He glances down at her when he hears her speak up, a little surprised to actually hear that she agrees with him. He pauses, then continues combing through her hair - she hasn’t complained yet, so he doesn’t stop. 
“You guess so?” he says, gently pushing her. “You guess so? You’re so goddamn good, you have any idea how many people would kill for someone like you?”
“It's not that big a deal,” she murmurs.
“It is,” he shoots back immediately, a fierce bite to his tone. “It is a big deal. Don’t- don’t do that, alright? Don’t try to brush it off and pretend like you’re not the best thing that’s ever happened to me - to anyone.”
“I’m your assistant,” she says with a small smile, as she tries to stifle a yawn. With each blink she sees less and less of Oscar’s silhouette in the dark of the room, her eyelids heavy with sleep as she’s trying her best to stay awake to listen to what he has to say.
Oscar’s jaw clenches at the sound of her holding back a yawn - she’s probably exhausted and in some kind of pain, and that’s not even considering the emotional trauma she’s just been through tonight - and yet here she is, still trying to stay awake. 
He glances down, noticing her eyes keep drifting closed, and he lets out a huff. “You’re much more than my assistant,” he mutters. “More than I deserve.”
He looks down to see what she has to say in response.
Only to find her fast asleep, passed out from exhaustion.
The warm cocoon of Oscar’s arm, the steady lull of his heartbeat, and the rhythmic feeling of his fingers running through her hair was enough to help her loosen up enough to finally fall asleep, it seems.
He looks down at her with a little smile - even asleep, she still looks like a goddamn angel. 
He’s not expecting to sleep any time soon, he’s had enough caffeine on top of the adrenaline still pumping for him to be completely wired. So instead he just holds her - her face pressed in between his chest and shoulder, his arms wrapped around her, his eyes focused on the ceiling.
Part 2
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a/n: if you stayed this far, thank you so much! i'd love to hear what you thought of it :) and credit to @saradika-graphics for the lovely dividers!!
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avenshine · 7 months
Text
“waiting on me?” + ( hsr penacony men )
waiting on your boyfriend to return home, you fall asleep.
warnings: spoilers for 2.0 main story quest. possibly ooc, trying to get a feel of their personalities to write, kinda rambled on dr ratio’s part sorry, lmk if i missed anything.
AVENTURINE
he had promised to bring home dinner for both, so you could enjoy it and just discuss whatever came to mind.
unfortunately, that’s not what the ipc had in mind. they had him in an unexpected, long meeting. the food had gotten cold, and by the time he returned home, you were already sleep.
he kisses your forehead softly, whispering into your ear, unsure if you’d remember or he’d just appear in your dream and say it.
“i promise i’ll make it home earlier, my luckiest charm.”
SUNDAY
as a member of the family, he’s constantly busy, but he always makes time for you. today was a tiny bit of the exception, though.
he had some rather difficult people checking in at the hotel, so dealing with them in the most polite way he could took more time than he imagined.
so when he returns back to you, he finds you sound asleep, letting out an apology and a promise to make it up to you.
he puts a blanket over you, wishing you a goodnight and a very, sweet dream of how he can make it up to you.
DR RATIO
dr ratio tries not to make promises he cannot keep. it doesn’t matter, big or small, time frame, if he feels he cannot do it — he doesn’t.
so when he’s late to your date, that you guys had planned months in advance, he feels terrible. he didn’t realize how much time had actually passed, the book he was reading wasn’t as important as you, this was just a simple fact. so how come he was so caught up in that he forgot the time?
at this point in time, he’s currently rushing over to your place, to apologize. he has a spare key, so when you don’t answer to his pleads, he figured there’s only one logical reason, you fell asleep. he opens the door, locks it and finds you still in your date night outfit, asleep like he figured.
“i’m so sorry, my love. i will spend as long as i need to, making this up to you.” and he carries you to bed, putting the covers over you; and wishes you a night well.
GALLAGHER
gallagher, like dr ratio, doesn’t want to make promises he can’t keep. he tries to stay on top of things, but how was he supposed to know he’d run into the nameless and their “friend?”
that definitely slowed down his journey, so when he finally makes it back to you— he spews nothing but constant apologises, and when you don’t respond— he figures he’s really pissed you off.
until he takes a closer look, and realizes you’re just sleeping.
he smiles at the sight of just you before he writes a quick note; leaving it beside you before he leaves again in the night to attend to his bartending.
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afewfantasies · 2 months
Text
Lucky Strike 🎯 🎱 - HISTORY- II
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PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Pairing: Benny Cross (Bikeriders) X Reader
Summary: Benny deals with the personal ramifications of his joyride & learns about the precincts unexpected guest after a night of being in the doghouse with Kathy.
Warning: Mentions of DV and substance abuse. Neither are descriptive or in the current timeline of the story they are reflections of the past.
Word count: 1.3K
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Getting to the house felt like it took twice as long while Johnny drive Benny home with Kathy in the back seat and Bruce following behind with Benny’s bike. The tension was getting to be too much for Benny and half of the reason he’d been going on a joyride. He’d grown up in a household that argued and it was why he shut down most times instead of going at it with Kathy. Johnny bids him a farewell with an apologetic look having not time to talk as Brucie puts the keys to his bike in Benny’s hands.
“Come by tomorrow we’ll talk” Johnny says with a serious tone.
“Ok, thanks guys” he nods before heading in with Kathy. He closes the door behind him and heads to the kitchen to find something to eat before Kathy really starts fussing. When it does start Kathy really does lean into it. Her points are valid but it wasn’t like Benny had become a bike rider after he’d met her. If that were the case she’d be on a solid foundation. But she’d fallen in love with an outlaw and then tried to change him. 
“And who was that woman there with Johnny? Never see you fellas with them kinda real fancy women” Kathy snaps. Benny hadn’t returned home to peace but all out war for the stupidity of his deeds and disregard for his lady and the family they were building. Kathy’s words not his.
“I was locked up how should I know?” Benny asks thinking of heading to stay with his father tonight as a means of stilling the argument.
“Fancy broad, all done up” Kathy explains as he gets a cigarette. “No smoking in my house!” She snaps.
“What am I locked up in here too!?” Benny snaps finally.
“You comparing my place to a jail after I just put all I had towards your bail? I’ll be eating from cans for the next two weeks” Kathy snaps.
“I didn’t ask you to do that Kathy and you should’t of if you’d resent me for it” he snaps lighting up as he exits the house. He sees her in the doorway as he revs his engine heading back to his father’s house. The drive is long and allows him to clear his head. When he gets out he sees people up playing cards in the middle of the night and nods a greeting before getting his keys. A foul smell hits him as he enters to find his father in a worse state than last time.
“Hi son” Mr. Cross says to his son.
“Pops” Benny nods heading into his bedroom. Sitting in his room be breathless fresh air opening the window and lighting another cigarette. His eyes hold your old window. No one hand heard anything about you since you’d left with the exception of one letter from your mother to Benny’s with a check for the money she’d borrowed and a note telling her that you and your mom were safe and doing well. There was no return address. Teaching over to his nightstand Benny opens his book of children’s stories to your favourite, a photo falls out. Looking at the old photo Benny smiles at your toothless grin. It was one of very few keepsakes he kept from childhood. The two of you had walked for miles on tiny legs to the fair. One of the carnies took pity on the two of you, fed you and gave you enough cash to do one thing. After an hour of contemplation you both decided on the photograph. It was a miracle you’d survived at all. He couldn’t think of things being any worse for children. 
He didn’t know why his mind was on you that night but people say when you dream of someone they’re thinking about you. Benny was the main character in tonights dream of yours as you reimagined a colourful life for him. Based on the news reports and his new friends. He was so handsome from the picture he gave James Dean a run for his money. Wherever you were he hoped you were happy, hoped things were going well and that one day he could see you again. Tomorrow he would to to see the guys and straighten out everything to do with his bail, then he’d find a way to repay Kathy. Maybe even leave her alone for awhile.
Benny feels more eyes on him than usual. Tensing he prays Kathy didn’t carry on too badly about his jail time. He finds Johnny across the room and heads over. Brucie gets up and Benny sits down unnerved, looking at Johnny.
“How fast were you going kid?” Johnny smiles. His demeanour is a shift from Benny’s expectation.
“I don’t know but I’ll pay the club back” Benny says ready to stand up. 
“No need kid, it was taken care of here, have a beer” Johnny says putting one in front of Benny. It’s surprising he’d seen what a bailout could do to the clubs treasury and with so many lately he knew the coffers were probably nearing empty.
“How? Kathy says you called up a woman?” Benny says describing you from Kathy’s recollection.
“Handle your old lady Benny, I don’t need the headache at home.” Johnny snaps. Not wanting the untrue tale to get back to his wife. Johnny hadn’t called you, he didn’t know you.
“Alright” Benny nods sharply.
“Besides, she wasn’t there for me, she was there for you.” Johnny tells Benny.
“I don’t know any women who dress that well” Benny mumbles lighting a cigarette. He’d been underprivileged before he’d become an outlaw. 
“Yeah? Well she knows you.” Johnny responds taking out the two day old paper, handing it to Benny he points to the death announcements. Skeptical at first Benny goes line by line stopping at a familiar name. A man whose death he’d prayed for often as a kid. Emotions overtake him and suddenly he feels like the chair he’s sitting in is unsteady and the clubhouse is spinning around him.
Sitting back Benny recalls the last time he cried. It had been a tearful goodbye because of the very name he was looking at. The two of you were holding onto each others hands for dear life, with fear for the unknown as your mothers pulled you apart. Your mother trying to get you to the car before your dad returned home from 60 days in jail, while Benny’s mother tried to get him back inside. You were only kids and you were both wailing. Your father had gone on a tear and really did damage to your mother before nearly turning on you. It had been Benny screaming into the phone like a void that made the police rush over to avert a homicide. It was the first and last time he called them. He’d been trying to save your life and had lost you anyway. Once separated you both watched each other tearfully until you were no longer in each other’s sights as the taxi cab drove away. The memories flow in and he remembers how powerless the two of you had been. Remembers that you were the only person that ever really fought for him. Swallowing he gets goosebumps, he’d just been thinking of you last night.
“Y/N?” Benny asks, your name carrying with it a ghost of hope.
“Y/N, where’d you meet a dame like that?” Johnny asks making Benny smile.
“You sure?” He can’t hide his excitement.
“I’m sure Benny, she came in all done up” Benny smirks recalling the somewhat wild and unkept child from his memory. “The guys were nearly drooling, she’s a looker with good instincts.” Johnny says. Leaving Benny to ponder those thoughts.
“She married?” Benny asks.
“I didn’t look at her hands” Johnny admits as Benny tries to visualize the new image of you in his mind. He was relieved that you seemed to be alright, thriving and beautiful but his heart hoped against hope that you’d found forgiveness for such a sorry excuse of a man.
“How do you know her?” Johnny repeats drawing Benny from his thoughts.
“Neighbours, as kids” Benny mumbles getting up. “Gotta run” he says getting back on his bike suspended license and all.
________
NEXT CHAPTER
Authors note:
Thanks so much for reading🩵 🎆 ! Don't forget to comment, like and reblog.
FOR FUN i'm curious to see what you think. Respond without reading the other comments:
Where's Benny headed next do you think?
Who's death announcement was in the paper?
Would you bail Benny out no questions asked, no resentment?
Tags: @mrsalwayswrite @ughdontbeboring @astrogrande
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gh0stsp1d3r · 11 months
Note
I just discovered your blog and OMGGG I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE!!!
Sooo is it possible a part 2 of your William fic "unemployed" please? I can't sleep without knowing what happened next !!!
Have a nice day/evening! 🫶
Thank you!! I’m glad!! (: and I’d love to
𝒰𝓃ℯ𝓂𝓅𝓁ℴ𝓎ℯ𝒹 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝓌ℴ
Warnings- yandere themes, drugging, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, William is enforcing gender roles…(kinda..?) read at your own risk
Part 1
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“William?”
He nodded, he liked the sound of it coming from your mouth.
You were scared, not sure how to respond.
He sighed at your face, he could see you were terrified.
“We’ll have so much fun.” He said, standing up and making his way behind you.
“You want coffee? I know how you like it.” He locked the door, and picked up two mugs.
He handed one to you, which you shakily took and then he sat back down. He smiled as he took a sip, staring at you and waiting for you.
“Drink it.”
“I’m fine. I actually-“
“Drink. It.” He said, serious this time.
Your hands trembled, as you put the cup to your mouth and drunk it.
“Good girl.” He purred out, his eyes turned to something sinister, looking like he had more sinister intentions.
It didn’t take long for the drugs to set in, soon, you felt sluggish. And nauseous.
You tried to get up, which he ‘tsk’d at. He stood up in front of you, and your body fell to the floor. He watched you as you crawled at his feet, as you reached up to him before your body fell limp.
“Sweet dreams, darling:” he mumbled, taking another sip of his black coffee.
———
“Oh, you’re finally up.” He said. He checked his wrist watch. “Been a couple hours.” He sat with his legs crossed on a chair in front of you.
You looked down and saw yourself tied up into another.
“Steve, what the hell!-“
“It’s William. Not Steve. But I guess you forgot that.” He sighed. “What do you remember?”
“I remember… I went to your office, and we…” images flashed in your head.
“That was last week. What do you remember from today?”
“You drugged me. In the coffee.” You realized.
“Now you’re getting it! Alright. So, let me start off by some rules. I already have stuff for you in your room, I will choose out clothes. You won’t leave this house, I have cameras all around. Every room, and in the shower.” He smiled at the mere thought of watching the water run over your body.
“You will cook, clean, other wifely duties. If you break any of my rules, there will be punishment. You got it?”
You started to cry, was this really gonna be your life now?
“Oh, don’t cry.” He mumbled, giving you a pout. He went over to you, untied you, and just as he had hoped, you fell into his arms. Sobbing into his shoulders, gripping onto him for dead life.
“It’s okay. I’m here.” He rubbed your back soothingly, his plan was already in motion, and you were already falling for it.
When you calmed down a bit, he looked at you. You were so beautiful when you cried.
He put a hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing it. “Don’t even worry about a thing with me, love.” He laid a kiss on your forehead, and disturbingly enough, a small part of you loved it and wanted more.
—————————————————————-
That night, he’d picked out a nice dress for you to wear, it sat on the desk. You woke up with his face buried in your neck, his arms around your waist. It felt disgusting. It felt wrong.
He breathed in your scent. Today, was his day off. He wanted to relax with you all day, he wanted you to realize that he loved you more than anything.
Experimentally, he moved his hands on your waist further down. You tensed, and he realized. So he took them away. The last thing he wanted was for his darling to feel uncomfortable.
That made you relax some more again, you made yourself more comfortable now, wiggling around slightly.
He held you closer, tighter, now. He was scared that you would try to leave on him.
He kissed the back of your neck.
“Good morning.” He mumbled against your skin.
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samiswifey · 11 months
Text
Back To You
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Parings: Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Warnings: none.
Summary: it's been six years since Sam has seen you and the moment you lock eyes feelings immediately come rushing back.
A/N: this is going to be a short mini series that I want to do.
It was Sam's turn to do the grocery shopping this week. She was given a list of what each of the kids liked and not a single thing was healthy. They wanted all the sweets they could have and although she didn't agree she also couldn't control them. She could always make suggestions but she didn't want to control them. She wasn't her mother.
After checking out she quickly grabbed her phone to tell Tara that she was on her way home. As she was typing she accidentally bumped into someone and dropped her phone. She quickly picks it up and goes to apologize.
"I am so sorry. I wasn't paying - Y/N?"
You looked at her with blank eyes and a set frown on your lips as she looked at you with wide eyes. "Samantha. I didn't expect to run into you here." You said. Sam nodded as she tried to hide her nervousness. "Y-yeah. I live here now, with Tara and the twins." She said softly. You nodded but held back your surprise at her mention of her little sister, because last you heard Sam left and hadn't talked to Tara or anyone after she left.
"Well, Sam it was nice seeing you but I have to go." You said as you walked away from her.
Sam waved bye as she watched you leave the store. She felt everything coming back to her the moment she saw you. She knows that you've probably moved on but she never did. She still loves you and in her heart she hopes that you might still love her too. She didn't think so but it's not wrong to dream.
Walking inside Sam barely had time to close the door before Tara, Chad and Mindy were reaching for and grabbing bags out of her hands. They only took the snacks and left everything else before running back to sit on the couch and eat what they each had asked for. Sam shook her head but smiled a little as unloads the bags.
"You will never guess who I ran into at the store today." Sam says, trying to start up a conversation. "It was Y/N."
The moment your name was said the three of them came rushing into the kitchen asking questions by the minute. Like how are you? Do you remember them? Are you still as pretty as they remember? All sorts of things that Sam did not have the answer to just yet.
"I didn't actually have a conversation with her. We only said hi." She said softly.
Tara looks disappointed with her sister. "Sam, Y/N was your best friend so I don't really understand why you didn't catch up with her." She said. Before Sam could answer that Mindy scoffed with a small chuckle.
"They weren't just friends, T. They were girlfriend." She said bluntly.
While Chad agreed with Mindy, Sam was actually pretty shocked that she knew that. "How did you know that?" She asked nervously. Mindy became a little more serious as she looks at the older Carpenter sister. "You guys didn't necessarily hide your attraction to one another. You cuddled, held hands and I saw you kiss her one time when she left." She said. "You guys made it pretty obvious that you were in a relationship together."
Sam blushed at the reminder of her relationship with you. "I didn't know we made it that obviously." She quietly said. Tara looks at her with curious eyes. "Why did you guys break up?" She asked. Sam hung her head in shame when she remembers how she ended things. "The night before I left we got into a huge fight. She was begging me to stay and I desperately wanted her to come with me but neither of us were seeing eye to eye. So I ended it. I broke up with her because I felt like she didn't care about me enough. I broke her heart that night, while also breaking my own when I left her house." She explains.
Mindy took it all in as she looks right at Sam. "So how are you planning on winning her back?" She asked. "Yeah what ideas do you have to get Y/N back?" Tara asked also. Sam frowned at that as she shakes her head. "I'm not trying to win her back. There is no way Y/N wants me back after how we broke up." She said. "I'm pretty sure she hates me."
Mindy nor Tara was going to accept that. "How are you so sure? I mean you didn't really talk to her when you saw her so you can't possibly know that." Mindy says. "Yeah! Maybe things will be different if you actually talk to her Sam." Tara adds. Sam thought about it and wanted to dismiss it, but a part of her was very curious to know if you still liked her. So she agreed with them. "I guess you're right."
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The next day Sam was dragged back to the store by Tara and Mindy with Chad coming along because he didn't want to be left out, in hopes that they would run into you. Sam didn't have high hopes of seeing you again but Mindy and Tara did. They had a very good feeling about seeing you again and hopefully fixing things between you and Sam. At least that's their plan.
"Oh there she is!" Mindy practically yells.
Before Sam could gather herself she was pulled in your direction by both Mindy and Tara. She tried to get them to stop but it was too late and they were already in front of you.
"Y/N! Hello how are you?" Mindy and Tara said in unison.
You looked between both of them, a little surprised that they were with Sam, but smiled nevertheless. "I'm good. I'm really good." You said. Sam couldn't help but smile at that, knowing that you were doing good.
"Are you seeing anyone?" Mindy asked bluntly.
You shook your head as you looked right at Sam. "Nope. I'm still waiting for the right one to come back." You said softly. Sam felt her heart speed up and couldn't stop herself from speaking.
"Would you like to grab lunch with us?" She asked quickly. "If you have time that is," she adda softly.
You looked at her and smiled a little. "Uh, yeah. Yeah I'll join you guys for lunch." You said kindly. Sam lit up as her, Mindy and Tara headed towards the exit. You stayed back for a moment as you thought about what this could led to. You never admitted it but you still love Sam and a very big part of you really hopes that maybe you guys could try again. However with how much she changed you weren't holding out hope.
"So Y/N how have things been?" Mindy asked.
You smiled a little. "Things have been good. I just got a promotion last week." You proudly said. Sam smiled at that as she looks at you. "That's really great Y/N." She said honestly. You smile when she said that. "Thank you Sam."
The lunch went great with laughter of old memories and filled with new stories as you each told the other about your lives. How many things have changed since the last time you saw each other. You both realized that neither of you are the same and things could be different now. You just have to start slow.
The lunch ended as you got up from the table the same time as Sam did. You smiled at her. "We should do this again." You said. Sam smiled at that. "Definitely."
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For the last month you and Sam, along with Tara, Mindy and Chad, have been meeting up at least twice a week. They were fun two to three hours hang outside that you always found yourself looking forward to. You loved catching up with them and hearing about everything going on in their lives. It was nice just hearing about their day, honestly. You missed this.
Today it was just you and Sam. You both had the day off and decided to just hangout and take a walk around the city. Sam was showing you all her favorite spots and you found the whole thing endearing. Sam was a completely different person from the girl you dated back in high school. She seems so much stronger and lively that you found yourself just smiling at her.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Sam asked.
You looked into her eyes as you continued smiling. "It's just really nice to see you smile Sam," you gently take her hand. "I've missed this Sam. I've missed seeing you happy and just smiling at anything because it feels like after thirteen you just stopped feeling. Yeah you were physically there but mentally you were gone and I missed you." You told her softly.
Sam looks at you and gave you a small grin. "Things haven't always be easy for me and I didn't always handle things great, but I'm better now. I understand myself better and I really hope you give me the chance to show you that." She said. You smiled "you already have."
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fuzzythoughtsblog · 4 months
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So I'm in love with the BFFs sister Troup. Especially in a omegavere scenario.
I imagine my beta best friends alpha sister get handsy when BFF's not looking. Like placing her hand on my thigh under the dinner table or hugging me for way too long after sleepovers. It's not that she's a bad person just a little inappropriate when it comes to me. Which is weird because she not like that to any other Omega.
Despite this I'm not afraid of her, so when my friend texts me a invite to a sleepover I agree with out thinking. I'm surprised when her sister opens the door.
"Hiiii, Omega. Whatcha doing? "
I try to push her out of my to look for my friend. I go up to my friends room but she's not there. I check my phone for any cancelations but their are none. When I walk out of my friends room I question her sister and where she is.
"Oh yeah I think she's in my room looking for a jacket I "apparently" stole from her. "
I go to look for my friend in the room she pointed me to but no ones in there and the place is a mess. I then hear a click of the doors lock and turn around to see my friends sister practically panting. Then it hits me the smell of an alpha in rut. How did I not notice? Then as I look around the room I see packages of scent blockers. My brain tells me to run and she seems to notice.
"H-HHey don't panic I... I just want to talk okay. "
I look at her and nod. She slowly stocks towards me. " Good, Good Omega. Do you realize what's going on? " I say yes. She continues to move closer. "G-good so you know this isn't me. (Pants) Fuck, I made a really stupid, rut filled decision. " she continues closer and closer with her hand over her nose. "Fuck your just sso pretty. Have you ever been fucked by an Alpha?"
I wince at this question knowing where it's leading. She seems to notice. "I'm sorry that's, such a stupid fucking question. I just... you smell so good ... even from here. Just so good." I back away from her causing her to lung forward but I dodge out of the way. And now our positions change. Only one problem the door is key locked. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that it's just hard doing these things alone. And toys they don't help. "
I continue to look at her trying to anticipate her next move. Looking around the room for a weapon but all that's on the ground is scent blocker wrappers and broken cum filled toys " My sister hasn't fucked you yet right? " to this I stumble back in utter confusion and surprise."Oh, she hasn't told you yet? Fuck, yeah you have two sisters fantasizing over you little Omega." I think about escaping through the window but it's to high up.
"But I was first, I had feelings for you long before she did! I remember when she introduced you to me and I felt so bad attracted to my little sisters friend. Dreaming ever other night of sinking my teeth into you. Imagining it was you instead of some flimsy toy every rut. And then I saw my sisters old phone in her room after searching for clothes that smell like you in her room. I just... "
She begins to shake and pant more and more. And I can see the bulge of in her shorts from here. I'm so fucked, I think as she continues to take small steps towards me.
"I know that look Omega, please don't try to fight me. I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to hurt the girl that's going to be carrying my pups. " after this statement she pounces on me again this time I don't dodge it. She knocks me down full force and holds my hands down with one hand. The sight of this only increases her panting. "Fuck I can't believe this is actually happening it's not a fantasy. Your below me, smelling delicious and no ones home. "
As she speaks I feel her grind into my thigh. I try to think of how I'm going to get out of this. Fighting her isn't an option, she's strong enough to have both my arms pinned with one arm. And she's to far in to be reasoned with. I scrap my mind for something anything that will save me and then I feel it her hand ripping my skirt and panties in two.
"You smell so good. " she says as she bites her lip and pants. "Fuuck, what will you smell like when your filled with my pups?"
I keep trying to tell myself to think but it's so hard when you have a hard pulsing clothed cock rubbing against your folds.
"I shouldn't be doing this god it's so wrong. " she say as she grinds harder tears falling from her eyes.
I try to take this moment to my advantage. I tell her that I'll forgive her if she just stops. I wipe away one of her tears with my thumb. Before telling her that I wouldn't tell anyone not even her sister. I feel as she slightly let's up off of me before pulling me towards her bed as I scream.
"Why do you always have to talk about her! Why can't you just look at me? " she yells as she throws me on to her bed standing over me but not touching yet. I look around for something anything to defend but on the bed I see photos of me. So many ones of me in my bathing suit, ones of me get out of the shower, ones of me sleeping and the creepiest of all ones from outside my bed room window.
She breaks my concentrate as she begins to speak "I love you, not her. She doesn't crave you like I do. She doesn't think of you everytime she closes her eyes. She wouldn't fuck you like I would. She doesn't ... I'm sorry omega but I won't let her have you. Your mine. "
She then gets on top of me and tries to kiss me. I try to move away but she grabs my chin and forces her tongue down my throat with a growl. I start to feel as she rips my shirt and bra off and grabs my chest.
"Your so fucking soft and you taste as good as you smell! Gods I need you now! "
I begin to feel myself slip into fear as she holds me like a toy. It isn't until she plants a kiss on my cheek that I look up.
"Please don't look at me like that, stop please. I promise I'll make you feel so good, just stop smelling like that. I... why can't you just love me?" She begins to wrap a hand around my throat her claws daring me to move. "Say it please, just say it tell me you love me. "
I try to compose myself as the fear of being broken spreads through out my whole body. "I... Love you. " she moans and let's go of my throat.
"Good, good girl, so fucking good. Now tell me you don't want her, say you only want me. "
I nod and begin to mouth the words back to her. She growls before letting go of my waist in exchange for my legs. Holding me up to her and looking down.
"I want to taste. I need to know. I want your scent dripping down my chin. So be a good, pup and don't fuck this up. I don't know what I would do in this state and I really don't want to hurt you. " she says before shoving her tongue into me.
She eats me out like its her last goddamn meal. Fucking me on her tongue in and out while pulling me close as I cry. It feels good. It shouldn't feel good. She's taking me, I'm not enjoying it not even as she begins to lap and suck at my clit. A sensation that's just to much. I try to pull away from it but I feel as her teeth ghost on my clit.
"Don't fucking, move away you can fucking into to it, but the next time you run from the pleasure I'm giving you I'll bite this off. After all you don't need a clit to have my kids. " she threatens before sinking her face back down as I squeak.
She takes to nursing my clit more and kissing my thighs. I feel my self shake and whine. As I start to get closer and closer to the edge, I look down and she's starring at me. She then let's up of my cunt with a pop.
"I'm sorry baby, I don't want to threaten you I just... I need you to be good. Obedient, for this to work safely. I'm really trying to be gentle. It's just I want you positively dripping of my cock and I can't control it. But I prepped you so your ready now. "
I feel my eye's go wide as she pulls down pulls down her shorts and it falls out. I know I can't take that it's going to break me, even the knot is bigger than my hand. I have to run, I don't even care if the windows to high at least it freedom or a painless way to go. As I begin to bolt up she slaps me hard against the face.
"No No No, your are not going to ruin this for me! Your going to take me whether you want it or not. " she pants as she lines up "Your going to take me until your properly breed! "
I feel as she pushes in and I begin to cry. "So just enjoy it, enjoy your purpose! "
I try to stay positive as this happens. Think thoughts like at least she prepared me, maybe her seed won't stick and my friend will be home any momment. But I can only think that way for so long as she holds my legs up and starts pounding into me like a animal. Panting "tight" "warm" "love" "breed" over and over again as she uses me like a toy. One that she going to leave broken and cum filled like all the others.
Then I think about how she going to break me by the end of the day and how she'll leave my cunt a gaping mess in the shape of her knot. God no the knot, she hasn't even pushed the knot in and it feels like agony. Despite me thinking that there's the smallest voice in my head telling me it feels good and to rock back into it.
I ignore it, especially as she goes hard and harder fucking me slower but so much deeper. I hear as she moans and grunts and takes what she wants. Fucking me with reckless abandon as she chases her high dragging me along with her. And then I feel it. The burn of being stretchered more and more as she desperately shoves her knot all the way inside before final shoving it all in and bitting. It all happens so quick first I'm in pain from her tearing me open and then from her sharp teeth being buried into my kneck.
She let's out a sharp growl as she keeps moving her hips before spilling into me sending me falling down the ladder of pleasure and pain along side her. My vision goes white and I hear panting it takes me a minute to realize it's my own. I try to wiggle around but all I feel it taunt of her knot a her cum sloshing around painting my womb even further.
She growls "Don't move. Let my knot go down and then we're going again and again until it's not possible for you not to be pregnant. "
I begin to cry and then I realize it's not just going to end after today, it takes the average Alpha a week to go through their rut cycle. I begin to sob as I think 7 more days of this. Then I realize not 7 every day she mated me which means every day she's going to... She mated me and breed me. Which means I'm hers I begin to shake and have a coughing fit.
She then rubs a hand through my hair "Ssh it's ok our children are going to look so beautiful. Our little litter. " she says kissing our mating mark as I continue to sob.
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roosterforme · 1 year
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Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 9 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: It took ten years, but Bradley finally gets to have both of his dreams. Taking you to the Hard Deck shows him how perfectly your life and his still blend together. And if you want to take a marker to his door and claim him permanently, Bradley will hand you the Sharpie. 
Warnings: Fluff, smut and swears
Length: 3400 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)
This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!
Check my profile for my masterlist
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Bradley still couldn't believe you were in his house waiting for him. He scooped you up in his arms and held you tight in his lap on the couch. 
"You've been here for three days?" he asked, shocked that Nat had been able to play it cool while she drove him home. And now he understood that you were the something sweet that Nat had left for him. His best friend was far superior to anyone else's best friend, and he'd sing Nat's praises for the rest of his life.
"Yes," you confirmed, running your fingers through his hair and kissing his cheek, "I've been here for three days, all thanks to Natasha. She promised me you wouldn't mind."
"Mind? Baby, you can stay forever. I want you to. I'm just kind of shocked you've been sleeping in my bed without me."
You smiled at him and straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Are you sure you want me here? Your house is immaculate." 
When your lips met his jaw, Bradley softly said, "No, you're a slob. This is never going to work." But his hands were sliding up your bare thighs and under your dress. "You can mess the place up, I don't care, Sugar. Now are you going to tell me more about the schools?"
You settled against him, kissing him between sentences as you played with his hair and told him everything. "The labs at Miami were incredible. And my office would have been huge, but there was one huge drawback."
"What's that?" he asked, rubbing the soft skin of your legs. 
"You don't live there." Your face was calm, and a soft smile was touching your lips, but Bradley let his head rest on the back of the couch."Sugar, you can't make this decision for me," he whispered, and your fingers tightened in his hair.
"Listen to me, Beer Boy," you scolded, and Bradley couldn't help but imagine that this was your lecturing voice. "I didn't make you part of my future plans when we graduated together, and I regretted it. I'm not going to do that again. There's nothing Miami could have offered me that can compete with being in San Diego, working at a great university, and getting to be with you. I went to visit Miami just like I promised you I would, but I made up my mind about us before you left Virginia after the reunion. So you're just going to have to get over the fact that you made my decision easier, not harder."
Bradley just looked at your determined features and squared shoulders. "You really liked San Diego State? And you think you'll be happy there?"
"I loved it, Bradley. And I already accepted the position, so get used to me being here." 
He knew he was grinning like an idiot while you pushed his hair away from his forehead with your soft touch. "Did you visit the study rooms yet?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed next to his ear. "They are very nice."
Bradley closed his eyes as your lips found his Adam's apple. "So you got a little solo action in the library then?" he asked with a smile. 
"No. I was waiting to go back with you. The doors have locks, and the lighting is adjustable. Ten out of ten. I would love to take you there."
When you repositioned yourself so you were straddling his right thigh, Bradley groaned softly. You were running your fingers along all of the insignia pins on his uniform shirt, and he could feel your warm core pressed snug up against his leg. You started rocking your hips against him slowly, and Bradley hiked up your dress to find you skipped underwear. "Feel good, Sugar?" he groaned.
But now you were tracing his nametag with your fingertip. "Bradshaw," you muttered. "Hmm, I never pictured myself as a uniform chaser, but here we are, Beer Boy. You look good in this."
He held your hips in his big hands as you circled them a little faster. The sight of your pretty pussy already making his khakis wet had his full attention. Every time your knee nudged his erection, he wanted to be inside you, but he'd wait until you were done with his leg. Because he'd been thinking about this so frequently at night while he was deployed. He thought about taking you in every position. His mind had covered all the bases while he looked at his Sugar photo folder and jerked off.
You moaned and kissed him, your fingers gently dipping into his collar and withdrawing his dog tags. "Oh, yes," you hissed, grinding down harder on him. "Definitely loving the uniform."
Bradley wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and devoured your mouth as you got close. "If you're a good Sugar, you can mess up my dress blues and dress whites later."
"Oh god," you moaned, fisting his dog tags and pulling him so he was kissing you as you came. 
He could feel the warm wetness through his khakis as your movements slowed and your kisses became languid. As your lips dragged across his mustache, Bradley stood with you in his arms. "Can I take you to bed? Our bed?"
You moaned and nodded as he guided you to the bedroom. "Our bed. Because I live with my boyfriend now," you whispered with a little smirk, running your fingers over the wet spot on his pants.
"I missed you," Bradley promised when he had you sprawled out on the bed. 
You nodded at him, running your thumb along his mustache. "Yeah, deployments are going to suck, Beer Boy."
But he just shook his head. "No. I missed you for ten years. The deployments will be easy. You'll be here when I come home. And I'll love you the whole time."
Your eyes closed at his words, and Bradley kissed every inch of your face. Then he pulled your dress up high enough to get his lips on your tattoos. "I love you, Sugar." 
Eventually you got his zipper down, and Bradley was fucking you while you were both clothed. Your fingers were wrapped around his dog tags as he leaned down to taste your mouth. You held him close by the chain, but Bradley didn't want to be anywhere else.
"I want you." The desperate gasp against his lips as you pulsed around him made him dizzy. "I love you."
"I'm all yours, baby," he promised, slowing his strokes as you clenched harder. "You're so good."
You bit your lip and tipped your head back, looking like the vision of his fantasies since college came to life once more. When your back arched off the bed, Bradley took you hard by the hips and bottomed out, holding your tight pussy around him as your gasps got louder. 
"Feels so good," you whimpered, fluttering around his cock buried deep inside you. When your fingers started to tremble on his dog tags, releasing the chain and going for his hair instead, Bradley started fucking you again. You came with his name all over your lips, and Bradley watched his tags hit your neck and chin as you squeezed his release from him. 
"God damn," Bradley moaned when your lips parted, and you took his dog tags gently between your teeth as he filled you up. You were still moaning softly, your hands warm against his biceps and forearms. "God damn, Sugar."
He snuggled up with you, his cock still deep inside your wet pussy, and he looked at your sated expression as his tags rested on your slightly parted lips. 
"I got both of my dreams," he whispered, running his fingers along your cheek as you turned toward him. "Finally."
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You fell asleep with Bradley's dick inside you. That's just how right he felt. That's just how happy being with him in San Diego made you.
He had been talking about taking you to his favorite beach and all the best restaurants. He was waxing poetic about a pizza place that kind of reminded him of the one he liked at UVA when your eyes drifted closed. The last thing you remembered was the prickle of his mustache against your temple as you sighed into a blissful nap.
When you woke up with the afternoon sun on your face, you sat up in bed alone. You could hear the distant sound of the washing machine running, and when you went into the living room, Bradley was folding and sorting his laundry, along with the things you'd left in the dryer, in just his khaki uniform pants. 
"Beer Boy," you whispered, and he was instantly off the couch and wrapping his arms around you. You rested your cheek against his bare chest and kissed him. "I could easily get used to this."
Bradley chuckled. "You made out a lot better in this deal. I have a new roommate who is a slob."
You glared up at him, but he was smiling brightly. "Come here, let me show you what I did," he said, taking you by the hand and leading you into his office. The desk was empty except for your purple notebook, a single black sharpie and the Navy desk lamp. "You can have the office. You'll need it for correcting exams and lesson plans and whatever else you'll be doing that I won't be able to understand."
You picked up the sharpie and turned to look at him. "Am I allowed to write on the door?" All of Bradley's doors were white, including his front door.
"You can do anything you want, Sugar. And when your boxes arrive, you can have half the closet in the bedroom. And you can use as much of the bathroom counter as you need." You hugged his naked torso as he said, "Nat wants us to go to the bar tonight."
"We can go," you whispered as he rubbed your back. "I love Nat. I'm going to steal your best friend."
"I'm telling you, she's usually terrible. You'll change your mind soon." He dug in his pocket and handed you a keyring. "This is for you, too. A house key."
You took it in your hand, and turned it over. It was a beer bottle opener that said I LOVE CHICAGO and had one key on it. "Where did you get this?" you asked with a smile. 
He shrugged and kissed your forehead. "I found it at a flea market ages ago. It made me smile. It's been living in the kitchen drawer."
"You really missed me," you whispered, clutching the marker and the key. You felt tears in your eyes. 
"I'm not going to miss you anymore. You're mine again."
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Bradley gave you a neighborhood tour, taking you on the scenic route to the Hard Deck. Your fingers were laced through his and his Grateful Dead playlist was playing and he was so in love. Fuck, earlier this morning, he wasn't even sure where he stood with you. He thought maybe you had chosen Miami and left him floundering. But now he had a girlfriend who lived with him in the house he owned in Coronado. 
He started laughing. 
"What's so funny, Beer Boy?"
He kissed your knuckles as he pulled into the parking lot. "You live in San Diego now, Sugar."
"Beer Boy, you absolute dunce, I live in your bedroom now."
He laughed harder as he parked his Bronco, and then you were crawling across the seat and onto his lap. "Yeah, I guess you do."
"And you know what else?" you asked, running your fingers along his mustache and making him smile. 
"What?"
You licked the side of his neck, and Bradley held you close as you whispered, "I'm taking you to visit the study rooms tomorrow."
He let his head tip back against the seat as he groaned. "You're too good to me, Sugar."
"And once I have an office, I'll take you there, too," you added, running your hand down his chest to his abs. Bradley was wearing the tropical print shirt you'd had on in the hotel room when he fucked you on the desk. He was greatly looking forward to putting it on you again tonight and fucking you next to his Navy desk lamp just like ten years ago.
"Sugar, I got plans for us. So let's get inside, get a drink, and then go back home."
You climbed out of the driver's door and asked, "What kind of plans? I thought we were going to hang out here for a while so I could meet your friends."
Bradley wrapped his arm around you and kissed your forehead. "My plans involve the desk at home and minimal clothing."
"Oh! Then yes, let's make it an early night."
Bradley was antsy to introduce you to the guys, but as he held the door open for you, letting the noise spill out into the evening air, you paused. When you pulled your phone out of your pocket, you made a surprised noise. "It's Veronica calling me back, but it's late in Virginia! Let me answer so I can tell her I'm moving in with you and get my stuff shipped out."
Bradley nodded and you kissed his cheek. "Come find me by the pool table, Sugar." He heard you answer the phone as he strolled inside and ran right into Nat at the bar.
"Well? Where is she?" Nat asked him, glancing all around. "Shit, did she remember how ugly you are when you got home and decided to move to Miami instead?"
"You're fucking hilarious, Nat. She's outside talking to her friend from UVA who is shipping her boxes out for her." Then Bradley smirked and added, "She agreed to move in with me."
Nat squeaked and threw her arms around him. "I am honestly so happy for you Bradley! You've been in love with her for longer than I've known you!" She released him and patted his chest.
He rubbed his hand through his hair and held up two fingers for Jimmy to get him two beers. "You're right. I wish you had let me know I never got over her. Maybe I could have made this reunion happen sooner."
"Nah, the timing was just right," Nat told him and he followed her to the pool table with both beers. 
"Did you tell the guys she's here?" he asked, knowing he was about to get hugged several more times. 
"No. I haven't told them anything," she replied, and as soon as Fanboy saw Bradley, he was cheering. 
"Rooster's back!" Bradley had them all slapping his back and giving him awkward hugs, and then he had a pool cue in one hand. 
"Good to see you," Hangman drawled. "Next drink is on me." Bradley was just about to thank him, when he saw Jake looking longingly across the room. "Unless I can manage to pull her. Then you're on your own, bird brain."
Bradley couldn't keep the grin off his face when he realized Jake was looking at you as you made your way inside. He couldn't blame Jake; you were gorgeous, your jeans were hugging your body, and your top made your tits look extra amazing. 
You spotted Bradley and moved through the crowd with a soft smile touching your lips, and Bradley knew he was going to love you forever. 
"Damn," Payback sighed, looking right where Bradley and Jake were both looking. "Anyone know who she is?" 
"Never seen her before," Jake answered. "She's beautiful."
Bradley heard Coyote and Fanboy add their two cents about how they'd love to be the one to take you home, and Nat was doubled over in silent laughter next to Bradley. 
"Nah," Bradley said, "she's all mine."
"Put your money where your mouth is, Bradshaw," Jake said. 
"Two hundred bucks," Bradley replied, trying not to laugh. 
He heard Jake agree just as you dodged around a waitress and smiled at Bradley. Then all the guys gaped in wonder as you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around him.
"She's going to ship the boxes out tomorrow," you told him with a smile, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mustache. "She said she can't wait to come visit and go to the beach."
"Sounds good," Bradley said, kissing the top of your head before you released him to give Nat a hug. He turned to the guys who all looked shocked. 
"What in the Twilight Zone is going on here?" Jake asked. "Since when do you have a girl?"
"Since this morning," Bradley answered with a smirk. "But we've been together for a long time. Kind of."
"That doesn't make a damn bit of sense," Jake replied, but then Bob was looking at you with a smile. 
"You're Sugar, right?" he asked you quietly. "You look familiar."
"It's nice to meet you, Bob," you said with a bright smile. 
"Holy shit," Fanboy muttered, and then he was smiling. "This is the famous Sugar!"
"How did this happen?" Payback asked Bradley. 
"It's a long story," you told them with the kind of smile that Bradley knew would have them eating out of your hands from now on. "But I took a job at San Diego State so I could be near the love of my life."
Bradley leaned down and kissed your smiling lips before handing you one of the bottles. "Have one of the good beers, Sugar."
The evening passed in a blur of excitement, and you were never far from Bradley's side. In fact, he made sure he was touching you as much as possible even though everyone wanted to talk to you. When it was time to leave, he guided you toward the door, turning back to yell at Jake. 
"You owe me two hundred bucks!"
Jake just groaned and flipped Bradley the middle finger. "I'll bring it to work."
"Why does he owe you money?" you asked, lacing your fingers with Bradley's as you stepped out into the cool, night air.
"He made an error in judgement," Bradley told you with a straight face.
When he pulled the Bronco into his driveway a few minutes later, your lips were all over him as soon as you unbuckled your seatbelt. When you both stumbled to the porch, unable to walk correctly as you were halfway in his arms, you made a big production of taking your key out. 
"Allow me to unlock our front door," you said, dangling the Chicago keychain in the moonlight before opening the door. Bradley couldn't keep his hands off you as you led him down the hallway to the office. 
But when he tried to lead you inside and over to the desk, you took his hand and kept him in the doorway. "What's wrong?" he asked, brushing his fingers along your cheek.
"Nothing," you replied, the light filtering down the hallway illuminating your face. "Everything is perfect."
Then Bradley's eyes caught on the office door and his lips parted in awe. You had taken the black sharpie to the pristine, white surface, the same way he had done to his bedroom door in his fraternity house so long ago. Back then, he was desperately trying to get you in his life. And repainting his door for you had been the only way he knew how to show you he was serious. Writing the nickname he had given you on his door and begging you for your phone number seemed silly now. But somehow it had worked.
So if you wanted to walk around his house, live with him, and make him this happy all the time, he didn't mind if you took a permanent marker to every surface. 
"Sugar, I love you too, baby," he promised, already considering all the things you and he would do together in the future. Already thinking about how much he wanted to marry you. 
With a smile, you let Bradley lead you into the room, past the door that now said SUGAR LOVES BEER BOY in your handwriting. He would never paint this door.
----------------------------
Part ten will act as an epilogue of sorts! That will be posted in a few days. Thank you for reading along with Beer Boy/Man and Sugar; I've been smitten with them since day one! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
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danisdistant · 3 months
Text
sunday - your past sins are meaningless now - part one
[intro blog] | [taglist] | [masterlist] | [table of contents]
»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««
sunday x stellaronhunter!reader
although it was only three days, it felt almost eternal when you’re locked up in a dark room. it doesn’t help that hunger has been gnawing away inside his body.
jade had been checking up on him periodically from time to time to remind him that her offer still stands. even hours before the trial was in preparation, she gave him one last chance. granted, her patience was growing thin.
“are you really going to die like this, sunday?” she said, walking up to him as she lifted his chin. he was already pale-skinned, but even in the dark she could tell he was almost as white as a ghost.
even with this confrontation, sunday refused to maintain eye contact with her. “i’ve told you, for the past three days. i do not want your pity.”
“…well then.” jade sighed, releasing his chin and turned around for the last time. “i’ll go ahead and let the rest know that the trial is still under way.”
“you should already know that your death won’t be quick and painless.”
and just like that, the door shut once more, sealing his faith. sunday felt numb. he knew he could’ve accepted her offer in the first place, at least for robin. but right now, he couldn’t bare to see her face again. not after what he’s done.
he can’t run away from his sins, after all.
»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««
“wow, golden hour is so… golden.” you mumbled, walking around the hustling and bustling city. “it almost makes me feel like i wanna spend all my money on the casinos.”
“yeah yeah. do that and you’ll get caught by the bloodhounds.” silver wolf spoke through the hologram as she crossed her arms. “oh yeah. kafka told me to remind you about her gift. seems like she really wants some new shades.”
“shades huh?” you placed your hand on your chin. “doesn’t she already have like fifteen pairs of them?”
“well yeah, but i’m sure she’d like some from penacony.” she looked around before pointing at a store on the side. “over there, they’re selling some sick looking things.”
“wolfie… that’s a game shop.” you stared at her in disbelief before shaking your head. “unless you want me to get kafka some shades based off some paper birds.”
“anyway, how much time left do i have till i have to break a bird out of its cage?”
“three system hours and twenty-five system minutes.” silver wolf typed something in the air before her relaxed expression turned slightly more serious. “you better start moving [name]. some bloodhounds are getting close.”
“alright. i’ll move and get something for kafka. and a new console for you.”
“haha, that’s what i’m talking about, [name]. alright, i’ll get back to you once you break in. try not to get spotted. i hope you maxed out your stealth points.”
“yeah yeah…” you muttered, turning off the hologram before placing the device into your pocket.
as you set your eyes on the game store, you wondered what kind of games they would be selling in a dream?
»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««
“thirty system minutes.” silver wolf said in your headset as you started to walk to sunday’s supposed location. “apparently, his trial is in about an hour, so security in the area is a lot more tight.”
“should it really matter if i make a big scene or not when i break in?” you mumbled quietly into the mic as you passed by some people. “i mean after all, we’re here for one person. break in, save him from the cage or whatever, and leave.”
“eh, if you’re all in on min-maxing your bounty when you’re caught, i’m fine by it.”
“what?! no way, i’m stuck on 6.9 billion credits.”
you could hear silver wolf’s smirk over the mic. “nice. well, it doesn’t matter anyway. it’s about to go up to 7 billion.”
“hey! you aren’t authorized to enter here.” an ipc guard blocked your way to the entrance of an ipc building. “turn around, or i’ll have to resort to force!”
“7.1 billion. sorry, miscalculated.” silver wolf replied as you pulled out your weapon. “don’t worry, i have the screenshot of your bounty, and i’ll share it with the others. anyway, the guard just called back up. good luck.”
“thanks wolfie. i’ll take it from here.”
»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««
sunday sat still. he was counting the seconds, minutes, and hours, he had left once jade closed the door. he had been stuck in complete silence, minus his own heartbeat and breathing, for four hours now.
as soon as he heard footsteps, he knew that his time was up. he stopped counting. at this point, he wondered if he should finally look at jade in the eye.
“dang it, it’s locked!” an unfamiliar muffled voice came from the other side. his wing twitched, suddenly curious at the foreign voice.
that’s… not what he was expecting at all. was someone else besides jade going to escort him? or is it someone unauthorized trying to break in?
“ugh, i’m just going to brute force it.” the voice said before a loud audible thud filled the room. sunday noticed only a small dent appeared on the metal door.
“dang it, it’ll take me forever to open this!” you groaned as you looked around for some kind of lock or code. you weren’t tight on time, but you did wish to get out of the creepy dark hall and room as fast as possible.
“tsk.” silver wolf clicked her tongue after a brief pause. “if you’d wait a second, you wouldn’t have made yourself noticeable to five other ipc guards. anyway, the code is six-nine-four-two-zero.”
“ok- got it.” quickly, you punched in the numbers and the door opened before you.
you weren’t exactly sure what you were expecting when you heard that sunday was locked up in a room. but, you certainly weren’t expecting him to be chained up in a chair.
“jeez.. the security on you is quite impressive.” you mumbled, causing sunday to finally look at you confused.
“…you’re not the ipc..” he muttered, trying to recall where he has seen your familiar appearance before.
right, you’re a stellaron hunter, specially [name]. he had seen you on the ipc broadcasting channel here and there after your interference with the company.
but, what exactly are you doing here? what exactly are you going to do with a man who’s going to be dead soon?
“nope, not with those suckers.” you smirked slightly, partly listening to silver wolf’s keyboard as she tries to find a way to release the chains. “i’m [name], one of the stellaron hunters if you haven’t heard about me before.”
“right now, your trial is upcoming in a couple of minutes, but i’m here to get you out.” giving a thumbs up, sunday shook his head.
“…don’t. i deserve what i’m going to be charged for, even if it means death.” he muttered, turning away as you looked at him surprised. you were honestly expecting him to be ecstatic to leave.
well, it doesn’t really matter how he feels. after all, the script did say to free him from the chains.
“uhuhh..” you said, listening to the footsteps outside that seem to be getting closer. “well, a little birdie told me to get you out of your chains, is to just snap them.”
“wait- you’ve.. disabled them??” sunday looked at his wrists to realize that the dull purple glow was gone. at a slash of your weapon, both of the chains snapped off his wrists.
he gasped, although he wasn’t sure why. surprise that the chains actually broke? relief that he’s free? or infuriated that a stellaron hunter is helping him?
“alright bird man.” you turned around as more ipc guards appeared at the door, aiming their weapons as you prepared to attack. “i’m going to save you, whether you like it or not.”
really, sunday himself wasn’t sure if he did mind being saved or not.
»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««
“alright, that’s the last guy.” you huffed as the final body fell to the ground with a satisfying thud. “we’ll be leaving penacony as soon as we wake up.”
“and if you’re thinking about running away, i have a small bird keeping my eye on you.” you glared, causing sunday to respond with a small nod.
so, it seems she really is serious about breaking me out and taking me hostage. it’s no secret that the stellaron hunters are planning something.. yet, i’m in no condition to fight and resist. sunday said mentally as he followed you out of the area. although, i wonder who’s the other stellaron hunter she’s referring to as her bird…?
despite his suspicions, sunday believed that the best course of action is to do as you say as the two of you break out.
“alright wolfie, we’re at a safe area. get us out of the dreamscape before more ipc guards catch up to us.” you placed two fingers on your headset as silver wolf gave you the clear.
[previous] | [next]
»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««
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svltzmans · 7 months
Note
could you do fiona taking reader with a strap for the first time? 🙏
meddle about - f.g.
fiona gallagher x fem! reader
warnings: smut (18+), strap on use, dirty talk, nipple play, mommy kink if you squint really hard, this is so smutty lmaoooo
a/n: i'm back with a bang (literally lol). this has been in my drafts for so long 😶 but i'm obsessed with this request. i'm also writing this and posting without proofreading but i might check it later lmao
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fiona kicks her shoes off, relieved to finally be in her apartment.
managing a diner is surprisingly difficult, and she had found that out the hard way.
despite the aches in her knees and ankles, she was quick to make her way home. she knew her girlfriend, y/n, had stayed over.
fiona makes herself blush, thinking about how thrilled she is to get home to y/n.
hearing the door close and fiona's shoes drop to the floor, y/n practically jumps out of bed, making her way to the foyer.
"hi baby," y/n coos, pulling fiona into a welcoming kiss.
fiona finds herself melting into y/n, her thoughts escalating despite the innocence of the contact.
"someone missed me, huh?" y/n teases, noticing fiona's change in reaction.
"just been thinking about you all day," fiona responds, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend.
"c'mere."
y/n extends her hand to fiona, encouraging her to follow.
fiona does so without thought, allowing y/n to guide her to their bedroom.
y/n sits on the bed, beckoning fiona to sit on her lap.
fiona wraps her legs around y/n's waist, resting her arms on her shoulders.
y/n instinctively leans in to kiss fiona, her fingers in her hair.
the kiss escalates quickly, fiona letting her hands roam over her girlfriend's body.
hearing y/n's quiet whines and feeling her start rocking back and forth flips a switch in fiona.
"lay down, baby girl," fiona mutters, gently pushing on y/n's chest.
y/n does as she's told with no hesitance, letting her body sink into the mattress.
fiona hovers over her, finger rested below her chin. she leans in to kiss y/n again, the closeness to her girlfriend's body driving her crazy.
y/n can't help but frown when fiona pulls away, only for her face to change immediately when fiona starts kissing her chest.
fiona stares up at y/n, her piercing eyes locked into hers.
she starts licking cirlces around y/n's nipple, her fingers rubbing the other.
"fi..." y/n moans, throwing her head back at the sensation.
hearing her girlfriend moan only turns fiona on more, and she can't help sucking harder to elicit a louder reaction from y/n.
"fiona!" y/n almost screams in pleasure, her body instinctively jerking upward.
hearing these sounds from her girlfriend practically breaks fiona. she pulls away, looking into her eyes.
"wanna try something new with you," fiona coos, running her finger along y/n's chin.
"new how?" y/n responds, growing more excited.
"you'll see. close your eyes for a sec."
y/n feels the bed rise and fall as fiona stands, retrieving something from the drawer.
a few seconds later, fiona stands at the foot of the bed.
"you can open 'em now."
when y/n takes her hands off her eyes, she has to blink a few times to ensure she's not dreaming.
her girlfriend had put on a strap, tightly affixing it to her waist. the sight put y/n in a daze immediately, her eyes instinctively rolling to the back of her head.
to y/n's surprise, fiona sits at the edge of the bed next to her waist.
her hand quickly makes it's way to y/n's underwear, their lips touching once again.
"gonna get you ready for me, use my fingers first," fiona mutters between kisses, her fingers hovering over y/n's clit.
y/n nearly screams when fiona puts two fingers inside of her, slowly pumping them in and out.
"fuck, faster baby. do it faster," y/n chants out, craving more of the feeling.
fiona hovers over y/n once again, slowly sliding her fingers out.
"think you're ready baby? i'm gonna fuck that pretty pussy of yours," fiona teases, putting a coil in y/n's stomach.
"please, oh god," y/n instantly responds, her desperation growing by the second.
"spread your legs for me."
fiona taps y/n's clit with the strap, earning sharp whines from the girl below her.
"holy shit, you're so wet already y/n," fiona praises, still lazily rubbing against her.
"are you gonna fuck me or wha-"
before y/n can even finish her quip, fiona pushes herself into y/n, the tip of the strap inside her.
"oh," y/n sighs, adjusting to the new sensation. she had never felt so full, even though fiona was far from all the way in.
fiona pushes deeper, burying half of the strap into y/n's pussy.
y/n lets out a guttural moan, the sensation driving her crazy.
"don't know if i can take it all, fi," she moans, hands laced in fiona's hair. "it's so big."
"i know you can take it baby. wanna fuck you so deep."
fiona is shocked by how good wearing the strap was making her feel, the base of it colliding with her clit with every movement.
they both moan loudly when fiona pushes all the way in, their waists colliding.
fiona starts slow, y/n quickly adjusting to the feeling.
"faster, please," y/n begs, desperation growing in her stomach.
fiona picks up her pace, moaning at the feeling of the strap against her body.
they both moan loudly, sloppily kissing as fiona hovers over y/n.
"that's my girl," fiona praises, feeling herself already growing close.
y/n feels like she can't stop making noise, her body out of her control.
"don't stop mo- m' getting close," y/n manages to save her slip up, not knowing fiona's thoughts about being called names like that.
fiona doesn't seem to notice, her body overtaken by such intense feeling.
"fuck baby, gonna cum with you. feels so good to fuck you like this," fiona breathes out, throwing her head back.
"need you inside me more often," y/n smirks, more whines escaping her lips.
"oh my god, i- i'm right there. cum with me, please," she cries out, grabbing onto fiona's shoulders.
"god baby, i'm cumming," fiona sighs, her body shaking as she struggles to stay up.
soon enough, she can't, and collapses next to y/n, starting to giggle.
"that was one hell of a surprise," y/n smirks, kissing fiona gently.
"wait, what did you call me before?" fiona sees y/n turn beet red, smiling at the shyness of her girlfriend.
"um, that's a tomorrow conversation."
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Text
Out of Darkness - Chapter Nine: Deal - Alastor x human!fem!reader
Go to: Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | 6.5 (NSFW) | Seven | Eight Hello! Sorry if this chapter is not very good. I got a bit lost while writing it and the last days were a bit rough, so I didn't get the chance to go through it again. This is also my second attempt at writing it. However, my boyfriend, who absolutely detests Alastor, said it was “actually good” so I’m hoping it’s decent. I hope you enjoy it! <3 Words: ~4200 TW: angst, mentions of blood and wounds, swearing
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Muffled voices echoed in (y/n)’s ears as her body fought to wake up. Everything hurt: her body was on fire, feeling like thousands of knives pierced through her skin. Her head felt like it was about to explode as her eyes squinched in pain. The voices were still unclear, as painful static sounds would easily overcome the words.
Her eyes sting as she tried to open them, thankful that there wasn’t any light in the room she was in. It took a few seconds for her vision to become somewhat clear, as she was looking around the room, scanning it.
The bedroom looked fine as if nothing really happened. She was covered with a blanket that smelled like flowers, a sign that it was freshly washed, exactly as everything that surrounded her – pillowcases, her pyjamas, even the room smelled clean.
(Y/n) tried to get up, but pain shot through her like a dagger, making her hiss and lay back, engulfing herself in the warmness of her bed. If everything was just a dream, why was she in this state? She couldn’t even remember what happened, but she knew it happened. It was weird. Just like when you jump in the middle of the night, knowing you had a nightmare, but can’t quite remember what it was.
As the voices became clearer, she started to recognize them. It was her parents, probably coming to check on her, but the third voice made a shiver run down her spine.
“Oh, don't worry about her! I'm sure she'll be good as new once she gets a proper sleep!" Alastor's muffled, cheerful voice filled the house.
She didn’t quite know why her body responded in such a way to his presence, but she knew he was dangerous. She knew he did something, but there was nothing that could make her remember right now.
"We can stay here for a few days if it would improve things..." she heard her mother's voice. She wanted to scream, hoping they might hear her, but her throat hurt. And then, what could they do against him? Something told her to stay still, to protect them for whatever he could do.
"Oh, no, no, dears... No need to bother! She's in good hands! You are welcome to come whenever you want, but please, trust me when I say I will make sure she's safe and sound!" Alastor assured them.
Shortly after, (Y/n) heard them leaving, the door getting locked behind them. A moment of painful silence made her heart stop, adrenaline rushing through her as she heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door. She turned away from the door, burying her face into the pillows and pretending to sleep. Dream or reality, she wasn’t ready to face him.
Alastor slowly entered the room, his footsteps heavy and cautious as he approached the bed. Her heart was pounding in her chest, threatening to explode as she heard him sitting on the bed. He said nothing, but she knew he was watching her, feeling his smile radiating. It was too much, a tear falling from her eyes despite her best efforts to stay still and her breath started shaking.
Her heart sank when she felt his hand caressing her cheek, trying to wipe her tears, a low hum feeling the room.
He leaned in closer, his eyes tracing the contours of her face, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know you're awake, darling," he murmured. "You don't need to pretend to be asleep."
(Y/n) started sobbing, hiding her face in the pillow. "Please... don't hurt me..." she begged, her voice raspy and weak.
Alastor watched her as she sobbed, her voice pleading and weak. He leaned closer, his lips slowly touching the back of her neck, the sensation making her body shake. He smiled at her reaction. "Don't worry, dear," he said, his voice soft but firm. "I won't hurt you. That was never my intention."
He sighed at the sight of her ignoring him, his smile faltering, replaced by a frown. "Look at me," he instructed, his voice firmer now. It took her a while, but eventually, she slowly turned. Her eyes were red and puffy, her flushed cheeks stained with tears. Even though she was slightly relieved to be met with an appearance she once loved to wake up to, the reality was still terrifying. His eyes softened as he saw her face. Yet, he kept his calm demeanour, his smile still plastered on his face. "There you are, darling," he said, his voice softer now. He reached out, gently wiping away the last of her tears. "You shouldn't cry. It doesn't suit you."
(Y/n) analyzed him. It was him, after all… But something about it felt wrong. Like a dark aura engulfed him, making her stomach twist. The room was still dark, the only source of light being the little light that came from the living room. Her eyes fell on something shiny in his hands, her mind trying to understand what it was.
As the realization kicked in, she started shifting, trying to get away from him, but the pain stopped her from moving too much.
"Don't kill me please!" she pleaded, still trying to move away as the pain pierced through her.
"Doll," he said, his voice sharp, a firm grip on her arm stopping her attempts, "stop moving. You're only hurting yourself." He moved closer, his other hand gently grabbing her chin to force her to look at him. "And I'm not going to kill you," he said firmly, "I just need to change the bandages."
She calmed down, laying back on the bed, a satisfied grin on his face. Alastor gently unbuttoned her shirt, helping her take it off. A sense of nausea took over her as she watched the bloody bandages covering her entire upper body and one of her shoulders.
“Don’t worry, dear. It looks worse than it is, trust me.” Alastor assured her as he carefully took the bandages off. He took a moment to look at the wounds, inspecting them. They stopped bleeding, which was good, but he still had to take care of them and avoid an infection. A hospital was the last thing he would need now. Fortunately, he was skilled in taking care of wounds, as he would usually end up with a lot of them whenever one of his victims fought back.
With a wet cloth, he tried to clean the wound, a hiss of pain escaping her from time to time.
“Sorry, dear… It must be done…”  She looked at him, trying to find the words, but failing every time. “What is it?” he eventually asked.
“What… What did you tell them happened?” her voice almost a whisper.
Truth was, she still wasn���t sure if anything that happened was real. Maybe she was attacked or perhaps it was a side effect of a pill she took recently… She didn’t know, but she wanted to make him tell the truth.
"I assured them you'll be fine," he began, his voice calm. "That you needed rest."
"No..." she interrupted, her voice a bit louder. "What did you say happened?"
Alastor didn’t answer, as he reached for one of the bottles of medicine on the nightstand and poured a small amount onto a cotton pad. "This might hurt a bit, darling," he warned softly, his voice gentle. "Just try to stay still, alright?"
She wanted to protest, but a sudden pain made her jump, Alastor's hand quickly grabbing her, trying to make her stay still. "I know, I know... I'm sorry," he murmured. "Just hold on for a few moments more, alright? It'll be over soon."
It felt as if her whole chest and stomach were on fire, as the medicine dripped over the wounds. Without realizing it, she gripped his arm, her nails digging into it, trying to cope with the pain. He didn't wince, he didn't even flinch. Instead, he continued gently dabbing the medicine on her wounds, his other hand holding hers tightly, providing some comfort.
"You're doing great, darling," he murmured, his voice soft yet soothing. "Just breathe. It'll be over soon."
Alastor worked methodically, swiftly moving from one part of her body to another, each stroke of the medicine a reminder of the pain she must be feeling. He could see the exhaustion in her eyes, her body becoming more and more still as the pain eased.
"All done," he said, his voice gentle and tender. Alastor took the fresh bandages and covered her wounds.
“You didn’t answer my question…” she whispered.
His expression darkened a bit, his voice firm and assertive. "I told them you were in a car accident," he began, his words slow and deliberate. "That you got hurt and needed time to recover."
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But the car is fine?” she said, knowing that the last time she drove was a few days ago.
“I took care of it…”
Her brain started making connections. If this wasn’t the case, what really happened? She propped herself up in bed, taking her shirt back on. “Alastor… what happened?” she asked, watching him as he got up, putting the medicine back in the drawer.
“There are things you're not ready to know... For your own protection."
“For my own protection?” she repeated, a bit of anger biting at her. "This happened because you tried to "protect" me?!" she asked, gesturing at her body.
He clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting. He didn't want to yell back, to escalate the situation, but her accusation stung. He could feel his frustration mounting, his patience wearing thin.
She looked at him, her frustration growing with every second, as he gave her nothing. She knew this feeling. This happened to her before, back on that night at the club. She saw things, her reality distorting because of the drugs. But how could he let this happen? Did he do it?
She got up, walking through the pain that engulfed her body. She started packing her things, not wanting to spend another minute in that house.
"What are you doing, doll?" he asked, his voice strained as he took a step towards her.
"I know you did it! You drugged me or… God knows what you did and why. You did this!" she accused him, her mind racing to that night in the club, a night she hoped she would never get to live again.
Alastor couldn't help but chuckle, the irony of the situation was not lost on him. He could almost feel the gears turning in her head as she tried to deny the reality before her. It was both sad and amusing, in a twisted way.
"Doll, doll," he said, his voice a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "You really think it's all in your head? That everything that happened is a mere hallucination?"
She stormed past him, getting out of the bedroom, as Alastor quickly followed her, his long legs easily keeping up with her hasty movements. He reached out, grabbing her arm, trying to stop her.
"Wait a damned moment, darling," he said, his grip firm. "Where do you think you're going?"
She shook her hand away from his. "I am not staying here one more moment." (y/n) threatened and turned around to take her shoes on.
A cold shiver ran down her spine, as the lights in the room started flickering, the terrifying sound of bones crackling echoing in her ears.
“You are not going anywhere, dear.” A demonic voice, filled with static came from Alastor, as his shadow on the wall in front of her began contorting in horrible ways. The sudden change in the room was stark and disorienting, the shadows around them twisting, the air thick with static energy.
She slowly turned around, taken aback by the sight in front of her. That’s when all the memories rushed back to her: the demon who attacked her, Alastor’s fight with it and eventually… this. This monstrosity was supposed to be the man she was engaged to. That’s when it struck her: everything was real.
His eyes were dark, almost abyssal, his grin wider than ever. A hint of satisfaction played across his face as she realized the truth, the horror dawning on her.
"Now you see, doll," he said, his voice deep and chilling. "Now you understand who I truly am."
Her legs went numb, making her fall. As she attempted to crawl away, the shadows ensnared her limbs, their grip firm and unforgiving, holding her in place. She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her mouth, the terror silencing her. Alastor chuckled at her desperate attempts to escape, his demonic form towering over her.
"Nowhere to run, dear," he said, his voice dripping with sadistic delight. "You're mine now." (Y/n) forced her eyes shut, praying, a desperate attempt to be helped by some Divine force. Despite her efforts, the static from Alastor's form grew louder, drowning out her thoughts, and her whispers. The shadows continued to hold her tight, unyielding.
He chuckled again, his voice carrying a dark amusement. "Pray all you want, darling. There's no God here to save you now."
She clenched her teeth in pain, as the shadows dragged across her wounds. “Alastor, please… you’re hurting me!” she cried, hoping the Alastor she knew was still there.
Alastor’s eyes glinted with an unsettling amusement as he observed (Y/n)’s desperate pleas. The shadows around her twisted and writhed, their grip tightening with each attempt she made to escape. He savoured the fear in her eyes, relishing in the anguish that permeated the room. The static crackle of his demonic form pulsed rhythmically, an ominous symphony of torment.
Alastor's gaze shifted to the ring on her finger as if noticing it for the first time in the commotion. His expression softened a bit, the realization hitting him. The shadows around her loosened, but still held her, preventing her from trying to run away again, as Alastor knelt to look at her, concern flashing in his eyes as he saw the fresh blood seeping through the fabric of her clothes.
“What did I ever do to you to deserve this…?” she said between sobs, as torturous pain engulfed her body.
His demonic facade faltered for a moment as he watched her sob. A hint of regret flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly masked once again by his usual nonchalance. He reached out his hand towards her, but hesitated, his fingers hovering millimetres away from her skin.
"Darling, you don't understand..." he said, his voice cold but filled with what sounded like a hint of despair.
“Then fucking tell me already!” she shouted, hissing at the pain. “We were fine! We were perfect! Why are you doing this?”
Alastor let go of her, his form becoming somewhat more human. He knew it was a mistake. He knew she was going to be a problem the moment he saw her. He hated her. He hated that he grew fond of her… That he cared.
“They know now…” he whispered, his smile still on his face, but his eyes hid something else – despair, fear.
“Who are they?” she asked, massaging her wrists, trying to ease the pain the dark shadows caused her.
“Valentino knows… And so will the others… I tried to keep you away from this world, but everything is now gone.”
She looked at him, her mind trying to understand what was happening. “When would’ve you told me?” She asked, feeling betrayed because of his lies. “Was everything a lie?”
Alastor’s heart sank as he looked at her, the hurt in her eyes cutting through him like a dagger. He knew he had gone too far, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth, to risk losing her.
“I wanted to kill you… many times…” he admitted.
(Y/n)’s eyes widened at his confession, not really knowing what to do. She had nowhere to run, no one to save her.
“But I couldn’t…” he said, his head in his hands. “You… You were everything I never had or deserved… And I can’t let you leave now…”
The tension was heavy in the air as the confession hung between them. Alastor’s regret and desperation were palpable, and (Y/n) could feel the weight of his words sinking in.
“You can’t keep me here against my will…,” she said, trying not to sound too angry, but failed.
Alastor chuckled, looking up at her. “And what are you going to do?” he asked. “They will hunt you down, torture you, tear you apart limb by limb, my dear… Just to get to me…” he said, coming closer to her. She crawled back, until her back was against the door, keeping her in place.
“I am the only one who can protect you…” His voice became more demonic with every second, static becoming louder, as his eyes turned to radio dials. “How about a deal?”
“What… What deal?” she stuttered.
Alastor leaned forward, his face only inches away from her face. “Stay with me here, and I promise, no harm will ever come to you… You will have everything you could ever want or need…” he said.
His eyes moved to the ring on her finger, which was now glowing a green light. “But in return… I own you…”
In a matter of seconds, Alastor's form returned to normal, his eyes fixing on the ring on her finger. The shadows around them slowly dissipated, giving her more space.
"So... What do you say, darling?" he asked, his smile widening. Out of thin air, a contract appeared in front of her, engulfed by green flames.
“I-“ she started, his eyes widening in anticipation. “I want to read it first.”
He chuckled at her demand. “Ah, always the attentive one, I see. Go ahead, darling.” He said and sat down on her couch, watching her.
As (Y/n) unfolded the parchment, the dim lights flickered, casting long shadows on the words. The contract wasn’t written in elaborate legalese but in a straightforward, almost casual tone that felt eerily fitting given the nature of its author. The ink seemed to shimmer slightly as if it were alive and aware of the gravity of the promises it contained.
Her eyes traced the neat, looping script, absorbing each clause with growing clarity. Alastor’s promises, as mentioned, were simple but potent:
The Radio Demon shall ensure the protection of (Full Name) from any situation or demon that may pose a fatal threat to her life.
The Radio Demon shall not be held responsible for minor injuries sustained by (Full Name) provided that such injuries do not endanger her life.
The Radio Demon shall not be liable for any illness affecting (Full name) that may jeopardize her life, nor for her death, unless directly attributable to his actions.
The Radio Demon is expressly prohibited from causing physical harm to the other party for the duration of this contract.
The Radio Demon shall ensure the safety of [Full Name]'s family with the same level of care and protection as is afforded to [Full Name].
The additional assurance that her family would be shielded from these monsters was reassuring. The commitments she was required to make were also equally clear.
[Full Name] shall obey every command issued by The Radio Demon without question or protest.
[Full Name] shall not disclose any information about The Radio Demon to any third party, except when expressly instructed to do so by The Radio Demon.
Both parties are expected to act with mutual loyalty throughout the duration of this agreement, maintaining their dynamic as it was prior to Valentino’s attack.
The demand for her complete devotion, both during her lifetime and beyond, was stark but unmistakable. It was a bond that extended into the afterlife, a tether that promised entanglement in every conceivable way.
“Wait… You expect me to act as we are… As if nothing happened?” she said, her tone hiding a hint of anger.
"Of course, darling," he said, his tone casually. "You will act as if nothing happened. "You will play your role perfectly.” His eye started glowing a bright red. "And besides, dear," he said, his voice dropping to a mere whisper. "Pretending nothing happened is your speciality. Isn't it?"
She frowned at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Alastor chuckled again, a sly smile creeping across his lips. "Oh, dear. Don't play coy with me," he said. "We both know that you enjoy playing the role of the blissfully ignorant one." He leaned in, resting his elbows on his knees. "But I see through the act. I know what you suppress. The thoughts you push away in that pretty little head of yours."
Alastor leaned to the small table in front of him. He took a picture of them, the only one he ever accepted to be taken of him. "You're smart, dear... You think I don't know you figured something was wrong? With me? With my story? But did you run away? Did you tell anyone... no..."
(Y/n) looked at him, a look of shame on her face. He was right. She's always been thinking about this... About the whole story, about how weird it felt sometimes... But she knew she loved him and left everything be just a thought...
Alastor's smile turned into a satisfied smirk as he saw the shame on her face. "Ah, I see I've struck a nerve," he said, his tone mocking. "You've had your suspicions, haven't you? You knew something wasn't right. But you didn't want to face it. Because in the end... We're not so different, aren't we?"
"The same? We are not the same, Alastor!" (Y/n) protested.
Alastor raised an eyebrow at her outburst, his smile turning sinister. "Oh, but we are, doll," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "We are more alike than you care to admit. You may not want to acknowledge it, but I know your thoughts. I know your desires. We just wanted to feel normal, right? And I must admit... I kind of enjoyed it. And now… I give us both the chance to continue doing so. Keep reading, darling!” he demanded, his voice almost like a growl.
(Y/n) continued reading. The consequences of breaking the agreement were serious: If Alastor failed to uphold his end, the contract would be nullified until she decided whether to renew it and he would not be able to hurt her in any way after the end of the contract. If she breaks it, the demon had the right to inflict harm during the suspension of their agreement, a suspension that would last as long as he would want to.
"So... What is your decision, darling? Will you accept my deal?"
(Y/n)’s desperation grew with every moment, as she read it again and again, almost memorizing every word. Alastor's patience was wearing thin as the minutes ticked by without a response. His smirk turned from amused to annoyed, his claws almost ripping the material on the couch.
"Are you so deep in thought that you can't even give me an answer, dear? It's a simple question." He said, his voice growing more impatient with every word. “Yes or no?”
(Y/n) looked at him and got up, stumbling a bit, her legs still soft. “I want to modify something.” She said, her voice a bit more reassured.
Alastor raised an eyebrow, a hint of intrigue flickering in his eyes. "Oh, really now? And what is it that you want to modify, my dear?" he asked, his patience somewhat restored.
“You cannot force me to kill or harm others,” she insisted, her voice firm despite the fear. “Any such action must be my choice alone.”
Alastor let out a bemused chuckle. "Ah, a moral stance, how noble of you. You're truly one of a kind, darling," he said, his tone filled with sarcasm. "Of course, I will not force you to kill or harm someone else against your will.”
“And…” she continued. “You cannot forbid me to do something that I want to do if it doesn’t put me in danger.”
Alastor's smile widened even more as he nodded. "Oh, you're quite the negotiator, aren't you? Very well, I'll keep that in mind. Anything else, my dear?" He asked, his tone almost mocking.
She thought for a moment. "The clauses of the contract can be changed... if we both agree."
Alastor's eyebrow raised in surprise. "Oh? Changing the clauses, you say? You're a smart one, aren't you?" He chuckled. "Very well, we can amend the terms of the contract on mutual agreement. Though, I must admit, darling, you're pushing your luck a bit here."
Alastor extended his arm, green flames engulfing it. "So... Is this a deal?"
She looked at his arm, weighing her options as the green flames flickered in the dim light. She knew that she was at this monster's mercy, and accepting his deal meant submitting to his will. But the alternatives were far worse. After a few seconds, she took a deep breath and reached out her hand, firmly grasping his.
"It's a deal."
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daichiduskdrop · 1 year
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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Chapter 09
Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader
Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,
Warnings: mentions of criminal activity
Words: 3457
Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou
Previous:
⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *
Your cheeks heated up, warming up to a sweet pink colour. Yoongi's fingers rubbed over your skin gently, and his soft chuckles were warm.
„Hm.. aren't you just the cutest thing? So soft, baby.” His voice was as sweet as ever, calming your nerves like a dream. He was very proud of you for opening up and telling them about your past.
The alpha realised more than well that he wasn't that good at comforting anyone, and in front of his packmates, he felt a bit shy about showing a lot of affection. But still, he felt the need to show how much he appreciated you opening up to them.
You really made him proud.
„Hyung, we have to go; others are already waiting in the car!” A distant shout rang through the small apartment. Looking up, Yoongi sighed in disappointment. He wanted to hold you for a little longer, but sadly, it wasn't possible.
„Come on, kitty, let's go, or Jimin-ah will rip my ears off with his screaming.” Giggling at the distaste in his voice, you allowed the older man to pull you by your hands until you were standing up before the bed.
Picking up your stuffed backpack, Yoongi threw it over his shoulder before you even had time to take it from him. Clicking his teeth together at your attempt to carry it, he walked towards the entrance, pulling you behind him.
Zipping his jacket up, he watched over you as you pulled on your snow boots and coat. Just as you were about to walk from the door to your apartment, his warm palms softly nudged you back in.
„Wait kitty. Let me tie them better for you; you'll trip like this.” Kneeling on one knee, the man held the shoelaces, tying them up in a tight knot.
He didn't allow you to go right after he tied the first one; feeling like he needed to be assured of the strength of the other knot, he re-tied it fully.
Finally standing up, Yoongi was about a head taller than you. Bending his face a little, he zipped up the zip all the way to your neck before he helped you tie the scarf.
Nodding to himself, he took a hold of your palm, intertwining your fingers with his once again. Squeezing them, he led you out, letting you lock the doors after yourself before walking with you downstairs towards the opened parking lot.
The car wasn't parked anymore; with the engine already running and the lights shining through the dark night quickly approaching, it stood right before the entrance of the apartment complex you resided in for the time being.
Ushering you towards it, he pulled the doors open, letting you climb in first. There wasn't much space left; the seats were already rearranged so all the packmates would fit comfortably.
With a walkway going through the middle of the van, there were three seats lining the back. With two seats on each side in front of those, the car could comfortably host nine people.
Walking in, you noticed one of the seats left for you, right in the middle of the back row. With lights shining in the car, you easily walked over towards where Taehyung and Jungkook were motioning.
„Come here, sit down, baby. It's going to be a while before we arrive.” Handing you the seatbelt, the two alphas on either side of you watched as you clicked it in securely.
With Yoongi also climbing in, sitting opposite Hobi, and Jimin in the first row alone, Namjoon turned in his passenger seat to check on everyone. After Jimin pulled the doors shut, and also buckled in, Jin started driving to their packhouse.
It wasn't much longer than 18.30, but since it was winter, the sun has gone down earlier than usual. The snow has stopped coming down for a few hours today, but by tomorrow morning, the height the snowflakes will cover should only grow.
The city has grown a little quieter since they chose to go through the less crowded streets on the outskirts. It felt warm in the vehicle; the heater turned on, allowing you to unzip your jacket a little.
„What songs should we play, little cub? What do you like to listen to?” Turning from the window, you were watching the passing streets, and you looked at the pack alpha.
He smiled at you softly, and the search bar turned on the flat touch screen before him. After thinking for a second, you decided that one of the older albums from Coldplay was music that suited the situation well.
You always loved the band; the songs from their old albums like Parachutes or A Rush Of Blood To The Head were ones you held closest to your heart. Shuffling the playlist, Namjoon turned on the speakers, a soft background noise filling the car.
„You like Coldplay cub?” Jin asked, keeping his eyes securely on the road. It was dark by now, and some of the streets could be very icy and slippery. He was already more than careful on the roads, but with you in the car, no added precautions were unwelcome.
„Yea, I really like some of their songs. They are very calming for me; do you like them too? We can listen to something else if you want.” Your eyes grew bigger with a hint of worry. Did they not like what you chose?
„Nonsence princess. We are just interested in what you like. Coldplay is a really nice band; we made a song with them; did you ever listen to it?” Jimin said, casting you a quick glance.
„You met them? Really? You actually met up with them?” It was hard for you to hold the excitement in; your curious and happy scent came out of you in strong, urgent waves.
Chuckling, the alphas smiled at how sweet you were. „Of course we did, bub; how else would we be able to make the song?” Hobi answered your questions, smiling from ear to ear. You were just too cute for your own good.
Throwing your head back, you sighed in amazement. „That's so cool though!” Showing you his phone screen, Taehyung scrolled through a few selfies with them and the band, taken by him or the other packmates, shared together in their group chat earlier.
Taking his phone from his outstretched hand, you couldn't help but whine a little. You've wanted to listen to their music live for a long time by now, and the pack got to make a full-on song with them too? How amazing was that?
„Me and Chris still keep in touch from time to time; would you like to also meet them sometimes, cub?” Looking up abruptly in shock, you watched the eldest. Your eyes were blown wide, most definitely shining in the street lights.
„What? Is that even possible? That must be hard to manage. Don't worry, it's alright.” You voiced it, your voice calming down quickly. Sure, you would love to go, hell yeah, but you didn't want the pack to go through any more trouble for you.
„Kitten, it's alright. Jin Hyung and Chris just bonded honestly; they still chat now and then. It will most definitely not be an issue for us to manage. Do you want to go to a concert too, kitty?” You watched the cat-like eyes of the alpha with amazement. This was just too good to be true.
„Really? You would be able to do that?”
„Baby, we can and will do everything for you. You want to go to their concert, then? Come here, sweetie, and let's look at some of the dates together. I'm not sure when they are in Seoul again.” Pulling you closer by your shoulder, Jungkook lightly pushed his palm against your temple, settling your head against his shoulder.
Quickly typing on his phone, he googled the upcoming tour the band will be attending, scrolling until he saw Korean cities come up.
„Do they have any concerts coming up?” The pack alpha asked, already going through his contact list to select one of the band members.
Humming in reply, the youngest alpha clicked on a link for a concert that would come up in Busan in just about three months.
„Yea, there is one in Busan and Seoul during March." Where would you like to go, baby?”
You weren't to Busan basically ever; even when you visited Korea for your grandparents funeral, it wasn't a destination you were to.
„I wasn't ever to Busan, plus I bet it would be too much of a hustle to go... It's really okay; we don't have to go at all.” You said it, your voice growing softer and quieter with every passing word.
Hearing a loud gasp coming from next to you, the wide-eyed eyes seemed surreal with how big they appeared.
„You were never to Busan? Baby, no! We have to go then; Namjoonie Hyung will text them about it, don't worry.” Jungkook gasped, his voice surprised.
„Absolutely! She has to visit; we can take her around the city too. Princess, you'll like it a lot. Trust Alpha now.” Jimin proclaimed loudly and turned in his seat to look at you.
„I bet kitten will find Daegu better. There are a lot of pretty parks and art museums; you'll love it there. Alpha will take you soon, okay, kitty?” Yoongi too looked over at you by the end of his sentence; with his head rested against his palm, he looked calm.
„Yah, Hyung, don't say that! You know well that Busan has beautiful museums and-”
Before any more discussion over who's home city was the best, Namjoon was quick to end the upcoming argument.
„Okay, okay, everyone calm down! Just let me text them in peace, please. Gosh.” He mumbled the last part to himself, earning a snicker from his left.
„No, it's really okay; we don't have to go if it's a bother."
„Not at all, pup. We all want to meet up with them too, so don't worry about a thing. We can make a reservation for some hotel in Busan too; would you like to have a nice weekend there? We can go look around some spots; I'm sure Kookie and Jiminie would love to show you around.”
Realising that any discussion you attempted to have around the matter had ended, you only nodded softly.
„My final exams are scheduled for the start of February. By March, I'll have my lessons again as usual, but hopefully getting a free weekend won't be so complicated. I'm very happy and excited. Thank you so much.” Your smile was bright; you were already happy about the upcoming trip you had just planned for yourself.
„It's okay, sunshine. We are happy too, but just for the record, Gwangju also has a beautiful national park and a-” 
„Okay, okay, Hobi! Shush now; we can take Y/N around all of our home towns. Don't start an argument now; I can already hear the maknaes.” The packalpha quickly interrupted him, his fingers texting quickly over the message screen he had opened.
Stopping the car, Jin turned off the engine. With the packmates suddenly realising that they were home, the doors opened quickly, with them pillaging out one after another. Helping you step down, Taehyung took a hold of your palm.
Smiling up at him, you let him lead you towards the entrance, stepping into his footprints so you wouldn't get your feet too wet. With Yoongi carrying your stuff securely, the whole pack got into their packhouse.
Turning on the lights throughout the houses, all the alphas were quick to disperse after shuffling off their shoes and coats and hanging them up properly.
Doing the same, you slid off your boots. Hoseok took them from you and placed them underneath the heater, making sure they would be nice, warm and dry for you by tomorrow morning. They didn't want you to get sick.
Picking up the backpack Yoongi placed by the entrance doors, you turned to Jungkook, his hand already outstretched to you.
Letting him lead you through the house, he walked with you up the stairs, where all of their personal rooms were. With two guestrooms upstairs too, one already occupied by you the night before, the pack decided that would be your room from now on.
They will get you furniture to suit your taste soon too, allowing you to personalise the room however you want. They weren't expecting you to move in immediately, but the alphas hoped that maybe in a few days you would consider spending the nights here more often.
For now, they are more than happy with the occasional stays you might be interested in sharing with them in their packhouse.
Opening the door to you, Jungkook was quick to slide off the backpack from your back, placing it at the foot of the bed. Taking a seat next to it, you watched as he unzipped it and helped him pull out some of the stuff you took with you.
Plugging the charger in, you also took your phone out of the small pocket, turning it on.
„Can you put your contact information in, please?” You asked, staring up at the alpha. He faced you immediately, his nice-looking bunny smile greeting you back.
„Of course, baby! Here, let me type my number in. You want the other alphas there too, right?” You nodded, a little shy with your sudden request. You hoped you weren't stepping over any set boundaries, but with how happy Jungkook looked, you mustn't have.
After copying the other man's numbers from his screen, he handed the phone back to you. Be no fool, he noticed well how slow and beaten up the device was; the screen cracked in a few spots. Your phone case must have been clear at some point too, but by now it was an odd shade of yellow that didn't look too nice in his eyes.
Smiling at him, you unconsciously ran a hand over the brown hoodie Hobi so kindly gave you the first night you spent there. When you came into your room tonight, it was neatly folded by the pillows of the bed, and a faint smell of the eldest alpha covered it.
„Come on, baby, let's see what Jin's cooking. I'm so hungry!” The alpha, he said, ushering you back downstairs before him. He watched closely over you as you stepped down the stairs. He wasn't too worried necessarily, but he knew that the steps were a little slippery from time to time, and he didn't want you to fall down by accident.
Walking towards the living room connected to the kitchen, Jin was truly making dinner, just like Kook predicted. With a few of the alphas resting on the couch and the soft audio of the TV playing in the background, you went after the youngest and the eldest.
„How can I help Hyung?" The alpha asked, already washing a few of the vegetables in the sink. With Jin looking up only for a small second, he noticed you standing next to Jungkook, unsure of what to do.
„Baby cub, here, go to the other alpha's bub. They are watching the news; go look with them, sweetheart.” His voice was soft, but the slightest bit of command was in its undertone.
Not daring to argue, even if you wanted to help at least a little, you allowed yourself to walk back to the soft, plush couch.
Jin wouldn't mind you being around him, and by no means will the other alphas; they will always enjoy your company. But still, the kimchi-jjigae included quite a bit of cutting, and he didn't want to take any chances of you getting injured.
Taking a seat, you were next to Jimin and Taehyung, who made a spot for you immediately after seeing you approaching. Settling in, you let them drape a soft blanket over your front. Pulling your knees up to your chin, you focused on the television.
The main news channel was playing, the daily news report going as a nice-looking woman spoke, her hair cut short in a styled bob with a few wrinkles here and there. She wore a clean-looking suit that fitted her great, her shoulders looking sharp and high.
„...ently experiencing a relentless snowfall that has blanketed cities and towns across the nation. The inclement weather has led to disrupted transportation services, road closures, and power outages in some areas. Local authorities have advised residents to avoid unnecessary travel and to stay updated on official announcements regarding safety measures.
Citizens, brace yourselves, as a powerful snowstorm is expected to hit the country. Meteorologists have issued warnings for heavy snowfall and strong winds across various regions. Citizens are advised to take necessary precautions and stay updated with weather bulletins to ensure their safety during this inclement weather.
The Ministry of Interior advises residents to stock up on essential supplies such as food, water, medication, and batteries. Homeowners are urged to clear their walkways and driveways of snow promptly to prevent accidents or injuries caused by slippery surfaces.
Flights have been cancelled or delayed at major airports across the country due to poor visibility and unsafe runway conditions.
Public transportation services, including trains and buses, have also experienced disruptions, with reduced schedules or route diversions being implemented. It is advisable for commuters to stay updated with the latest information before planning any journeys.
As South Korea battles the snowfall, authorities are tirelessly working towards capturing escaped prisoner Min In-Su to ensure public safety. Citizens are reminded to stay vigilant, follow safety guidelines, and cooperate with law enforcement agencies.
Stay tuned for further updates on both the ongoing snowstorm and the search...” 
„Did you hear about him, Hyung?" Min In-Su? I read about him in the newspapers; he is a terrible, terrible person.” Taehyung murmured, hoping not to peak at your attention too much.
You were interested in what he was saying already, though. Even if he wished for you not to have to worry about this type of stuff, sometimes it was just inevitable.
„Yeah, I read some stuff too. For an alpha that had a pack omega at one point too, I didn't expect him to do so much stuff. It's disgusting.” Jimin answered, and you could sense how he thought of the criminal, with the despicable acts throwing him straight into the alpha's bad books.
You could sense how he didn't want to talk about this at the moment. Sure, he wouldn't mind having a conversation on this matter with his packmates, but you were an omega, and it was impossibly easy for you to get nightmares about this type of stuff.
He didn't want that to happen, and with the storm that was expected to go down during the night, Jimin already knew that you wouldn't be able to sleep that well tonight.
„Come eat!” Jin shouted from the kitchen, the sound of dishes ringing against one another louder than earlier. Sighing, Taehyung stood up first, picking you up before you even had the time to get up yourself.
Struggling a little in his arms, you didn't want him to strain himself to have to carry you, but with him softly tutting in your ears, you allowed him to. Gently patting you on your shoulder, the alpha placed you in your seat.
„There babycheeks. Let me pour you a bowl; what would you like to have for drink?” The man said this while filling the ceramic bowl to the brim with the orange stew.
Jin already stood by his side with a freshly cut spring onion on the cutting board, so when Tae went on to fill his own bowl, he was quick to throw a few greens in.
„What can I have?” You asked softly, stirring the soupy mixture, helping it cool down from how steamy it was at the moment.
„We still have some juice left, or there's some vanilla and almond milk, or we also have just some soda, but I don't think that's the best for the evening, my little pup.” Namjoon said the large fridge opened before him.
„Can I have some of the peach juice? Like last time?” You mumbled, keeping your hands between your tights, as more of the packmates shuffled in to eat. Nodding at your request, the packalpha allowed himself to be pushed to his seat, letting Yoongi pour you a glass.
They didn't need to have any broken glass lying around tonight.
„Here, sweet kitty. Go on, eat up before it gets cold.” Watching your reaction to the stew closely, they all waited until you swallowed your first bite. Humming to yourself, it tasted well, just like all the food they have prepared for you so far.
„Good. Alpha is very glad you like it, baby peaches.” Jin said, smiling at you.
⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *
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makeitmingi · 7 months
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The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 22]
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Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy
Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)
Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho
Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?
Word count: 3.2K
You didn't know where Yunho had dinner reserved. He didn't tell you anything too, no matter what kind of questions you asked. He insisted on keeping it a secret to surprise you. Jongho sent you a check in text while you were in the car.
"What are you laughing about?" Yunho asked when he heard a small chuckle escape you.
"Jongho texted me. He wanted to make sure you didn't kill me and dump my body." You informed, still chuckling slightly. He could be just as dramatic as Wooyoung and Seonghwa sometimes.
"What?! Is that what he really thinks of me?" Yunho scoffed in disbelief.
"He's just protective. And you were the one who argued earlier that you could be mean if you wanted to." You defended.
"I- Okay, now you are being mean to me." He whined. You giggled and shook your head. As Yunho drove, you cast occasional glances at him to properly study his face.
"Take a picture. It'll last longer." Yunho said, teasing you. Your eyes widened and your cheeks heated up, knowing you've been caught. Clearing your throat, you quickly turned your head to look out the window instead. You heard him chuckling behind you, floored by your adorable reaction.
"Alright, we're here." Yunho parked the car and jogged over to open the door for you.
"Come on." He held his hand out to you, a charming smile on his face. You looked up at him with a small smile and slipped your hand into his, getting out of the passenger seat.
"Just where are we?" You asked, looking up at the grey building. Yunho zipped his lips and locked the car.
You followed Yunho into the building, hand in hand. There was a doorman there to open the door and welcome you in with a smile.
"Reservation?" The hostess lady asked. Yunho gave his name and reservation ID. The hostess cross checked the name on her list, just like Hongjoong does.
"Right this way." She smiled, leading the both of you in. There was a table right before a huge, floor to ceiling window.
"Wow..." You were speechless, looking down at the nightlife of Seoul city before you. The view was unreal.
"This is amazing, Yunho ah." You turned to look at him. Yunho smiled softly, pulling the chair out for you to take your seat. You bowed your head and sat down. He took his own seat across you but you just couldn't take your eyes off the view.
"I'm taking your reaction as a good one? That the surprise was successful?" Yunho chuckled. You nodded with a small hum, resting your head on your hand to look.
"Are you going to be able to tear your eyes away to eat?" He joked. You finally turned back to him and rolled your eyes.
"What's special here?" You asked as you picked up the menu.
"D-De-Degustation?" Yunho tried to remember the fancy word that he came across when doing research on the restaurant. But you knew what he meant.
"Alright. Let's go with that then." You closed the menu. Of course, Yunho wasn't even surprised that you knew what he meant.
"Do you know what degustation is?" You asked him.
"Like you said, I did research on this place. I may not know how to pronounce it but I know what it is. It's like a tasting menu with portions of the chef's best dishes and flavours. A curated experience to appreciate the flavours, presentation and the cuisine." Yunho said like he was reading off the dictionary definition.
"I'm actually impressed. Did you memorise the whole definition?" You laughed in surprised. His ears got red in embarrassment and he rubbed the back of his neck.
"I didn't say it to embarrass you, Yunho. I'm really touched and honoured that you went through all this trouble." You clarified.
"Like I said, I just want this to be as perfect as possible. I want you to have a good time." He said.
"Well, so far, do you think it has gone perfectly?"
"Yes. Although I didn't have a plan on where to go, I enjoyed my time at the aqaurium with you." He confessed. Now it was your turn to get flustered and embrassed.
"I've been having a great time, Yunho. Thank you for doing all this." You smiled softly. Yunho smiled, he was happy to hear that.
"May I take your order?" The waiter came over. You both went with the degustation menu.
"I'm driving but feel free to have some wine if you'd like. The degustation apparently goes well with their house red, according to the reviews I read." Yunho informed. You shook your head, you didn't need to have a drink.
"It's okay, I'd rather drink with you. Next time." You giggled. Yunho brightened up at the prospect of there being a next time and nodded his head excitedly.
"Enjoy some homemade bread." The waiter brought a bread basket. The smell of freshly baked warm bread filled your nose.
"Could I have some flaky salt and freshly cracked pepper, please?" You requested.
"Of course." The waiter smiled and bowed before leaving. Yunho squinted his eyes, he didn't like the smile the waiter sent you. It was a little too friendly for his liking. He brought the items to your table.
"So, after dipping your bread, sprinkle a little. It opens up the flavours of the olive oil and balsamic vinegar." You demonstrated.
"I'll try it." Yunho grabbed a piece onto the small side plate and copied your actions.
"Mmm, that's so good. I love warm bread." He nodded his head in satisfaction as he chewed and went for another bite. You made a mental note, Yunho likes bread. Then you remembered how Mingi likes bread too, it was one of the first things he told you. It was funny how both best friends liked bread.
"What's so funny?" He blinked in confusion.
"One of the first things Mingi told me was that he loves bread. It's just cute that both of you love bread. I guess you're best friends for a reason." You laughed.
"He's so random... Why would he tell you that when he first met you?" Yunho mumbled.
"Well, I helped you out of a walk in refridgerator when we first met." You tilted your head. Yunho's eyes widened.
"Please forget that. I was nervous and-"
"Yunho... It's okay and completely normal to be nervous. I would have been too. You were really adorable hiding in there though. And it'll always be one of the first memories I have of you." You smiled.
"Your first impression of me should have been that I was tough, not... like that..." He pouted.
"Then it wouldn't have been genuine, not the real you. I much prefer seeing and knowing the real you than a tough guy." You said.
Yunho was touched by your words. You were right, he was glad that you weren't scared or weirded out by his genuine self. It seemed that you actually liked it. If he had put on a facade and distance between the two of you from the start, maybe he wouldn't be here now.
"Here you go. The first course." The waiter brought two plates, serving you first then Yunho. You both listened to the way he described the dish and how to eat it.
"Enjoy." He bowed and left the two of you. You and Yunho held your cutlery and dug in.
"This is good." You nodded your head.
"You have no idea how hard it is to pick a restaurant when you're going on a date with a chef." Yunho snorted before he let out a sigh of relief, that you liked the food.
"Hey, I'm always appreciative of good food. I never expect high end dishes. I'm happy with simple dishes." You said.
"Exactly. Good food. Your definition of 'good food' is vastly different from mine." He chuckled.
"I guess this is the part where we kind of ask each other questions to find out more about each other right?" You suddenly asked after wiping your mouth with your napkin.
"We don't have to." Yunho assured. He didn't want to push you, he was afraid of asking the wrong thing or asking something that was too sensitive. The whole point of this was for you to be more comfortable around him and come to trust him more. But he wanted it to happen at your pace.
"Don't look so scared. I'll try my best to answer what I can. You don't have to tell me everything too." You smiled. Yunho nodded, putting his hand over yours to ground himself.
"Why don't you start? We'll just carry on from where ever, we don't have to go back and forth like 20 questions." He encouraged.
"Alright... Hmm, since you're not that good at cooking, who usually cooked for you?" You asked.
"My grandmother. She's the reason I have such a big appetite and love food. Only when I moved back with my parents, my mother cooked more. When I got my own place, it was take out."
"You lived with yourgrandmother? Is that why you're so close with her?" You blinked.
"Yeah. My parents had very busy jobs so Gunho and I lived with her. When my parents' jobs slowed down, we moved back." He replied.
"What about your parents?" Yunho asked. Even if you faltered for half a second, you recovered almost immedaitely and kept your demeanour. At your silence, Yunho greatly regretted asking, his fear came true.
"I was close with my mother, you know that. We spent a lot of time in the kitchen. But she got sick and passed away. Then my father remarried." You informed, feeling the lump form in your throat.
"I'm sorry." Yunho grew sad.
"Nothing for you to apologise about. There was no way you would have known. But yes, I have a stepmother and older stepbrother."
"Are they... nice?" He winced, mentally scolding himself. He didn't meant to ask that out loud, it was more a rhetorical question that he had in my brain.
"Television has some truth sometimes." Was what you said. So the answer was no, they weren't nice.
"But it's okay, I have another family. A chosen one." You smiled. Yunho wished to be a part of that family, the ones that make you happy.
"You and Seonghwa hyung have known each other for a long time, right? I think Wooyoung told me you've known each other since you were kids." Yunho tried to steer the conversation to another topic. Also, he was curious about your relationship with Seonghwa, how far the two of you went back.
"Yes, our mothers were close friends so we met through them. I can't even remember what age we met. And we've been together ever since. Seonghwa's been with me through everything." You said.
"Wow. That's even longer than me and Mingi. We met in elementary school. Stuck together from then on." He smiled.
"What about the others?" You asked.
"Oh, we met San in high school. Then Yeosang and Hongjoong in college. I guess we just all got along despite having difference interests in life." He shrugged.
"That's nice. Wooyoung joined us first. Then Jongho. All met through different kitchens." You said.
"You're like the 'it' crew or something. The popular kids in school." Yunho pointed out.
"Not at all! We just... work well together. We understand each other and have working styles that compliment each other. I don't usually stay at restaurants for a long time, I like to change my environments and gain exposure. I'm just grateful the 3 follow me." You said.
"Is this the first time you've stayed at a place for so long?" Yunho asked. You nodded your head. Usually by now, you would have left. But you didn't feel the urge to leave yet.
"I hope you don't leave." He said honestly, squeezing your hand. You merely smiled in reply.
"Don't worry about that now." You said. You didn't want to make promises that you were unsure of.
The rest of the courses came and went. You and Yunho got to know each other more, chatting every now and then about the most random topics while enjoying the delicious foods.
It felt like time had stopped and you were just in your own bubble with him. That feeling was so unfamiliar to you but you liked it.
"Thank you for the amazing dinner. It was really good." You smiled as Yunho opened the car door for you.
"You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed the food. Although, I wish the portions were bigger." He complained with a purse of his lips. You laughed and sat inside while he ran to the driver's seat. Yunho was like Seonghwa in that aspect, they both had big appetites and were never easily satiated.
"You know what? I think I'm going to name my manatee, Yunnie." You smiled, lifting the stuffed manatee in front of your face. Yunho burst out laughing.
"Are you naming a manatee after me?!" He asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, it's only fitting. They can't be mean. Plus, you're the one that bought him for me." You giggled.
"I told you, (y/n). I can be mean. I just can't be mean to you." Realising what he said, Yunho slapped a hand over his mouth. You started laughing, seeing his ears turn red.
"Ignore what I just said."
"You're cute, Yunho." You smiled. If only Yunho wasn't driving, he would want to look at the expression on your face.
When Yunho pulled up to your house, he was about to say something to you; to thank you for coming out with him and spending practically your whole day with him.
"Still hungry? Are you up for supper?" You beat him to it. However, it wasn't what Yunho was expecting. He thought you would just thank him and leave for the night, going to see him the next day. Not once did he think you would invite him upstairs.
"What? You said the portions were small right?" You chuckled, finding his confused face so adorable.
"I-It's okay, you know? If you're tired, you don't have to-"
"If I was tired, I wouldn't have offered." You cut him off. Yunho nodded, turning out of the driveway and going to the carpark instead. You headed upstairs with him.
"Make yourself comfortable." You said as you opened the door, putting your bag aside and heading straight for the kitchen.
"Anything I can help with?" He asked, locking your front door for you. He didn't want to sit and wait for you to cook, preferring to cook with you.
"Is a frittata okay? I have goats cheese, bacon, tomatoes and spinach." You scratched your head.
"Sounds good." He smiled. Yunho cracked the eggs while you prepared the add ins, chopping up the vegetables and bacon into smaller bits. When Yunho was done, you beat the eggs with some creme fraiche, seasoned with salt and pepper before adding the tomatoes, spinach and bacon.
"Careful, it's hot. But we're going to dot the goat's cheese around." You said. Yunho nodded and put the goat's cheese over the top together with you.
"Time for the oven." You put the hot pan into the oven to continue cooking the middle of the frittata.
"I'll set a timer." You put the timer on your phone and went to sit on the couch with Yunho to wait for the frittata to cook.
"I should put these in water." Usually Seonghwa settles the flowers for you, putting them in a vase. But now that he wasn't here, you had to do it. Grabbing the same vase he uses, you put water in.
"Here, let me help." Yunho unwrapped the tulips for you and put them into the vase with water.
"Thank you." You smiled as he put the vase on your counter. Yunho looked at Yunnie, the manatee, who was now perched in your lap. Was it weird or creepy of him to be jealous of a plush? He kind of wished that he was able to lay in your lap.
"(y/n), what did you think of today?" Yunho asked. You did say you liked it but he wanted to be sure again. You thought about it for a while, humming as your hand stroked the manatee plush.
"It was great, Yunho. I loved the aquarium and dinner. I enjoyed spending time with you." You said shyly.
"I'm really happy to hear that. Thank you for coming out with me. The aquarium was fun but being with you made it better." He smiled.
"Does this mean you'll go out with me again?" He asked with hopeful eyes. You teased him by looking like you were contemplating it, tapping your chin.
"Stop~" He whined, pressing himself against your shoulder to hide his face from you.
"Yes, I'd love to go out with you again." You said between your laughs, your hand coming up to stroke the back of his head.
When the frittata was done, you and Yunho sat at the counter to eat together. Well, Yunho ate most of it. You assured him that you only wanted a few bites, unlike him, you were rather full from dinner already. Although, you still sat with him even if you were done eating just to spend time with him.
"Don't fall asleep now." It was his opportunity to tease you back.
"Stop! I was embarrassed enough. I was the one who invited you over and yet, I fell asleep before you left the house." Your hands flew to your warm cheeks.
"Don't worry, it was cute." Yunho sent you a smug smile, patting your head like you usually did with him.
"Now you admitting to watching me sleep is creepy." You laughed, jabbing him back.
"I didn't watch you sleep!" He exclaimed. After the food was done, you and Yunho did the dishes together. He knew he shouldn't stay any later, you both needed rest before work tomorrow.
"I'll see you tomorrw, (y/n). Thank you again for coming out with me." Yunho smiled, looking down at you as he leaned against the door frame.
"Please, Yunho. There's nothing to thank me for. I enjoyed myself, genuinely. I should be the one thanking you. You brought me for my first aquarium experience. You planned and paid for everything too." You laughed.
"As long as you enjoyed yourself." He whispered, holding your hand and rubbing the back with his thumb.
You smiled up at him, moving closer until you wrapped your arms around him. At your actions, Yunho wrapped his own arms around you, engulfing you in a big hug.
"Goodnight." You wished as you pulled away.
"Goodnight." He bowed his head and walked down the hall. As you closed the door, you leaned against it with a smile on your face.
"Next time." You said, eyes casting over to the manatee plush that was on the couch. Heading over, you picked it up and hugged it to your chest, a smile slowly forming on your face.
For some reason, you were looking forward to the next occasion you were able to spend time with Yunho.
~
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