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halemerry · 10 months

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So there's a lot to unpack here but I want to start by talking about the ending and specifically about the Metatron and the calculating moves made at the end of episode 6.

Every single piece of what happened there was a manipulation technique being employed against Aziraphale to an almost brilliant degree and I'm honestly a little obsessed with what this says about the Metatron in particular.

Let's go in order.

First of all. We see him order coffee. In a human body. Something sweet and sugary. He talks to Nina and asks her about her shop name. Does anyone ever ask for death? And when she tells him no they don't his response is to say "so predictable". Our introduction to him here even when everything about him reads like a sweet old man is presented to show us someone who reads the world in terms of being predictable to him.

He then shows up in the middle of Aziraphale's existence being threatened. He immediately cuts down the threat's authority (using outdated language like Az himself would favor) and reemphasizes his own connection to Heaven. When Michael doesn't recognize him and he puts her down and then directly engages Crowley. Crowley who, to Aziraphale, has for centuries at a minimum been someone he thinks is smarter, better, more Good than these other archangels. The Metatron validates these beliefs. Crowley is more Heavenly than these archangels who couldn't even recognize the voice of God when he was standing right in front of them.

The Metatron draws attention to the fact he's in a human body. The kind of body Aziraphale has been in and loved for nearly 6000 years. He then banishes the archangels, implying their morality is in a gray space, and validates Muriel someone we have seen Aziraphale react positively to and someone outside the current power structure. Look at me, he's saying. I see and validate the little guy.

He then tries to talk to Aziraphale. Aziraphale says "I've made my position quite clear." And then the Metatron offers Aziraphale the coffee. This bartering chip, consuming sustenance, is a thing that Aziraphale and Crowley have used as their connective tissue for centuries. It's an olive branch for them. It's giving Aziraphale bodily pleasure and the Metatron implies that he himself has partaken also - a thing we know that Aziraphale has struggled historically with moralizing. He is seen by the closest thing he has left to his parent and he is having old fears validated as safe and old habits being played upon to make him feel secure

He then REMOVES Aziraphale from his home turf. Not only does he remove Crowley from the equation but he takes Aziraphale from the place that has stood as a place of sanctuary throughout the entirety of the season. The shop is Safe and Aziraphale is leaving it and he is leaving the one person who might be able to smell the bullshit coming from the Metatron. The music notably turns absolutely dire here.

The next time we see them the Metatron tells Aziraphale that he doesn't need to answer instantly. He can take his time, if he likes. All the time he needs. And then tells him to go tell Crowley. Once again bringing Crowley in as a valid part of this while manufacturing a scenario where he can't possibly be.

Az ends up in a place where he's overwhelmed and confused and he wants so badly to believe what he's being told. It's an appealing thing from his perspective! He feels off kilter like he's made a mistake in judging the Metatron. He can't even fully articulate what happened to Crowley at first and he's had absolutely no real time to actually think it through. He's running on sheer reactive energy.

The Metatron starts their conversation by asking Aziraphale's opinion. Who should rule Heaven? This is once again playing into making Az feel validated and like he's a part of this decision making process. The Metatron corrects him, complimenting Aziraphale and making him feel capable and in control. He reassures Aziraphale's bafflement. And draws attention to some traits that, while true of Aziraphale around Crowley, are not his defining traits in the eyes of Heaven. You don't just tell people what they want to hear I find particularly notable in this regard given Aziraphale spent most of his time on earth actively lying to Heaven and doing just that. But it fits into the narrative Aziraphale has built around himself, especially post Apocalypse. The Metatron then says I need you (a phrase Az will use much more painfully here in a minute).

And even after all this Aziraphale says no. He says flat out he doesn't want to go back to Heaven. He says this!!! And then the Metatron sweetens the pot. He swaps tactics. Not once has this come up until Aziraphale pushes back against the idea. If the Metatron could've gotten him without using it I have no doubt he wouldn't have bothered with it. Come to Heaven and we can save Crowley. Aziraphale loves Crowley. Aziraphale thinks Crowley is better than any of the angels he's interacted with. Crowley is Good and Nice and Kind and always saving him and now he's being presented with a way to return that. He can Forgive Crowley - a thing Crowley has always presented to Aziraphale as something he struggles with. All of these things Aziraphale has watched Crowley react to in a way that belittles himself or distances them from one another. Of course he wouldn't consider that maybe what he was actually saying is "I'm unforgivable and I don't want that forgiveness."

The Metatron offers Aziraphale a Dream Offer for the pre Armageddon Aziraphale. You can keep your Crowley. You can heal him like you have always thought he deserved. You can have power and control the people who for your whole existence has beaten you down. It can go back to how it was but BETTER.

When Aziraphale leaves he still hasn't answered. He goes and has the conversation they have. It's intense and emotional and the Metatron comes in after the Moment all casual and asks how it goes, knowing fully well the shitstorm he had just set up to get created. And then he turns around and says "always did want to go his own way" which is not only true of Crowley but framed as a bad thing despite the fact that he has just spent twenty minutes or so telling Aziraphale that he's done his own thing and that is Good. He is playing both sides of this perspective as it suits him. And then he cuts down Crowley asking questions, pressuring Aziraphale to avoid doing the same. He then proceeds to ask Aziraphale not if he's made up his mind but if he's ready to get started. He is one by one closing off exit routes to this thing as Aziraphale starts to look more and more panicked and indecisive. He makes sure the bookshop is in good hands and asks Aziraphale if there's anything he needs to take with him. Letting Aziraphale have the illusion of choice while cutting down "I don't want to" as an option altogether.

And Az, as soon as the Metatron is out of shot, tries to express this. And then he falls back right on old coping methods. The Metatron pats him on the head. Reassures that he's the right one for this. That he is Good. That his particular skillset is needed here.

It is a masterstroke of manipulation. A very dark twist on what we see Crowley do time and time again with Aziraphale throughout the millennia. Familiar in a way that makes Aziraphale feel safe. Except this time this is being used to put him back in line. It's brilliant and painful and it fucking hurt and I need a season 3 to see the Metatron get what's coming to him stat.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #Metatron #Aziraphale #Episode 6 #Every Day #good omens meta

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andvys · 9 months

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 3

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of emotional abuse (Chrissy’s mom), absent parent, daddy issues, jealousy. Billy being Billy… it’s not what you think

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Someone you don't want to see shows up at your doorsteps.

Word count: 6.7k

Note: @mysticmunson thank you for helping me as always, you're the best! @somethingvicked thank you for the idea with Billy, it's working perfectly for this story

series masterlist

Steve had been so on edge ever since he found out about you and Billy. He knows that Tommy and Carol aren’t the most honest people. They strive off of chaos, they live for the drama and the lies and constantly make up new things to gossip about but for some reason, he believes their words this time. Billy had been following you around ever since he broke up with you– he had been running after you for some time now but never like this. You always rejected him, you were taken and not interested but now Steve can’t help but wonder, were you truly not interested or were you just rejecting him because you were with him? Were you secretly into Billy all this time? The thought of it makes him feel sick.

He sits in his car, bouncing his knee as he stares out the window, waiting for his girlfriend. The parking lot is filled with students, he hears laughter and different voices. He sees Billy walking towards his car, the usual smug and arrogant look resting on his face. He straightens up, looking around to see if you’re around too, wanting to see if you will get in the car with him. What will he do if you do get into his car?

“Hey!”

Nancy’s voice startles him a little, he tears his eyes away from the blue camaro and turns to look at his girlfriend.

“Hey Nance,” he smiles. He instantly leans closer to her once she’s seated, she meets him halfway, kissing him on the lips. Her eyes are closed, his are open and they flash with curiosity when he sees you through his window. You look his way and it’s enough for him to tense up.

He expects you to get into Billy’s car but instead you go the other way, you pass by his car and look straight ahead, pretending to not see him or her. He breaks the kiss, Nancy doesn’t seem to mind, she leans back and puts the seatbelt on as she begins to talk about her project. Steve hums and nods along, turning his head to see where you are going.

Are you going to Heather’s car? To Chrissy’s car? It turns out to be neither of those, instead you leave the parking lot and walk into the direction of the football field. Where are you going?

“I figured that we could rent a movie tomorrow since we can’t hang out tonight,” Nancy says, “I really wanna get it done. It’s been nice to hang out with Jonathan again though, we should all go out together sometime!”

“Sure,” Steve mumbles and turns back to her when he no longer sees you.

Her brows are raised and a confused smile is on her lips, “were you even listening?”

He nods, “yeah, you want me to hang out with Byers,” he says with an eye roll.

“Hey,” Nancy mumbles, hitting his arm, “he’s nice, you just gotta get to know him.”

“Sure,” he chuckles, running his fingers through his hair, “nice.”

Nancy shakes her head at him, raising her arm, she pulls down the sun visor and flips open the small mirror, a piece of paper that was tucked into it falls into her lap. Her brows knit together as she looks down at it. She picks it up, it’s just a simple brown paper that was ripped out of a notebook, she turns it around. Annoyance bubbles inside of her when she sees the writing on the note. It’s not much but it’s from you, it’s not signed but she recognizes your handwriting and the little heart, only you draw it like that.

I love you

She presses her lips together and glances over at Steve who is staring into blank space.

How long has the note been here? Does he even know that it existed?

“Here,” Nancy mumbles and throws it into his lap.

Steve glances at her first, brows furrowed and lips parted, he notices the annoyed look on her face. He looks down at the note in his lap. Oh.

“I didn’t know you still kept her things.”

Steve blinks as he stares at your handwriting. You drew a little heart next to your I love you. He swallows harshly. The weird feeling in his chest returns yet again. He didn’t even know the note was there– you did things like that all the time, leaving little notes everywhere for him to find. He kept them all.

“I don’t,” he lies as he puts the note in his pocket after folding it, “I didn’t even know it was there. I’ll throw it away later.”

Nancy nods, eyeing him from the side. She doesn’t like the way he folded the paper so neatly. He should’ve crumpled it up and thrown it out the window.

“Okay.”

The scented candles in your room are lit, making the air smell like pumpkin spice and cinnamon. The light of your salt lamp makes everything appear softer, you never use the big light in your room, you hate it. The police’s every breath you take is playing in the background.

“Are you going to the winter formal?” Chrissy asks as she flips to the next page of her new fashion magazine. You are both laying on your bed, the decoration pillows all over the floor. You look at the pretty dresses in the magazine. You would be wearing one of those next Friday if Steve wasn’t such a cheating asshole.

“Nope.”

She glances at you with a sad look in her eyes, “we could go together.”

You give her a small smile as you shake your head.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, “I don’t feel like going anyway, he’s gonna be there with her.”

She sighs, her lips are set in a frown, “you know, I never liked him. As much as I hate to say it, I’m not surprised about his actions but Nancy?” She mumbles, “who would’ve thought that she’s such a.. bitch.”

“Yeah, looks deceive, huh?”

“Totally.”

You told your friends about what Nancy said in the girls bathroom when she didn’t know that you were there.

“She looks like one of those church girls.”

A surprised laugh leaves your lips, “a church girl?”

“Yeah, she wears those ugly long skirts and those preppy blouses that my mom forces me to wear when we go to church on Sunday’s,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes.

“Is she a church girl?” You ask.

She snorts and shakes her head, “I don’t think so, I’ve never seen her around.”

You nod.

She flips to the next page, eying all the dresses before her eyes land on the ugliest one, a giggle falling from her lips, she points at it with her pink nails, “looks like something she would wear.”

You can’t help but laugh.

“And that’s why she won’t ever be prom queen, that’ll be you,” you say, expecting to see a smile on her face but instead it falls and a frown settles in her features.

“It’s not prom yet,” she mumbles, “and I don’t really wanna be the queen to some asshole’s king.”

Raising your brows, you tilt your head as you look at her. Cupping your cheek, you lean your elbow on the pillow beneath you, “you mean, you don’t want to be Jason Carver’s queen?”

A look of disgust crosses her features and she shudders at the mention of his name.

“Mom forces me to go with him,” she says, looking like she’s ready to break down out of frustration, “I don’t want to go with him.”

Your gaze softens, you place your hand on her back, “then don’t go with him.”

She keeps her eyes locked on the magazine, “you know how my mom is, I can’t just not go, she’ll make my life a living hell if I don’t do what she says.”

You never liked Chrissy’s mother, she was always horrible to her. Always pushing her to do and be ‘better’, forcing her to associate herself with people who already climbed up the social ladder, like Jason Carver.

You sigh, wishing you could help her.

“What if you just stop doing what she wants you to do?” You shrug.

She sighs and opens her mouth to speak but you cut her off, holding your hand up, you sit up on your knees, “I know, I know, easier said than done but–” you pause, looking around your room, you eye the freshly washed and ironed cheerleader uniform, the cassettes in the little box on your floor, bands that are his favorites, singers that your friends love so much, you stare at the baby pink wallpaper and the colorful clothes in your messy closet– you should’ve closed the door, the sight of the mess makes you want to groan in annoyance.

“But?” Chrissy mumbles as she waits for you to continue.

You blink, tearing your eyes away from all the things in your room that you didn’t come to like on your own. You look back at your best friend.

“If you do things for others, if you do things because they want you to do them or because they expect you to do them, because they like those things– you will end up feeling miserable at some point, you will lose yourself and one day you’re gonna realize that you don’t even know yourself, that you don’t even know what you like, what you truly want or… who you even are..”

She lets your words sink in. For a moment it’s silent between the two of you. You look down at your hands while she stares at you. Sadness and realization crossing her features. You are trying to help, she knows it but you are also realizing something about yourself, she can tell by the lost look in your eyes.

“I know that things would be tense if you just started going against her stupid rules or wishes but you can always come to me if things get tough at home,” you say, reaching out to take her hand, “I’m here and you know my mom won’t mind you staying with us.”

Her eyes light up at your words, a smile tugs at her lips, she turns her hand around and squeezes yours, “you’re the best, you know that right?” She whispers.

You smile at her words, you tilt your head, “no, I’m not.”

She frowns and rolls her eyes, “yes, you are.”

“Says who?” You chuckle.

“I do,” she says, proudly.

“Oh,” you smirk, leaning closer to her, you don’t notice the way her eyes widen or the way her cheeks flush a little red, “you do, huh?”

She blinks, her lips part and she stares at your face. Your face hovers over hers for a second before you lay back down on your bed and reach for the bat shaped pillow, the one you excitedly bought for your ‘halloween’ decoration, hugging it to your chest, you stare up at the ceiling, not noticing her stare or her tense body.

“A-Are you sure you don’t wanna come to the winter formal?” She asks again.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

She looks down at her hands, “okay,” she frowns.

“Hey,” you whisper, glancing at her, “you’ll still have fun.”

“With Jason?” She mumbles, rolling her eyes, “I doubt that.”

“You can still go with someone else. If your mom is gonna act like a bitch, I’ll kick her ass for you.”

A giggle falls from her lips and she shakes her head as she looks at you with a smile on her face.

Rolling on your side, you prop your head up on your hand. Curiosity sparks inside of you.

“Who did you really want to go with?” You ask, “I know there is someone.” You notice the blush on her face and it only deepens the longer you stare at her.

“Oh uh–” she chuckles nervously, “n-no one, I just, I don’t wanna go with Jason.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She nods.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know that, right?”

“I-I’m not.”

“Good, we’re best friends, we tell each other everything, right?”

“Yeah,” she whispers and gives you a smile that doesn’t really reach her eyes. “I’m gonna go now, I still have to study for the math test tomorrow,” she groans.

“Oh.. yeah,” you mumble, trying to hide the disappointed look on your face. You hate being by yourself, there’s too much going on in your mind when you’re all alone in this house– you used to love it but ever since he left, it’s just been hard. “I gotta start working on the assignment.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes just the way she did when you told her about who you got partnered up with.

“You know, you could still take Billy up on that offer.”

You snort at her words, “I don’t think we need Billy to kick his ass, Heather will do.”

“Did you know that she accidentally bumped into him at Nick’s party last weekend? He was holding a drink and it got all over Nancy,” she giggles.

Your eyes widen, you can’t even fight the grin off your face, “no way?” You gasp.

“Yes way,” she laughs as she reaches for her backpack, “he got all pissed and looked like he was ready to fight but when he saw Heather, he got all quiet– he even looked scared.”

“He should be,” you chuckle.

“And Nancy got all hysterical and ran off.”

You snort, “she deserved it.”

“She deserves worse for what she did– they both do,” she sighs.

She never liked Steve, even before you started dating him, she couldn’t stand him. His presence annoyed her and more so when you two got together and she had to watch how he continuously messed with your feelings.

“Yeah well, I don’t care anymore, I’m moving on…”

She knows that there is no truth behind your words, you are not moving on. You still love him, she thinks that you always will. You always looked at him like he was the only light in your life, like he was the one who hung every star in the dark sky, it made her hate him even more because he never looked at you like that.

“I’ll walk you to the door–”

“No, it’s fine,” she smiles, “you don’t have to.” She walks towards you and pulls you into a hug, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She squeezes you tightly before she lets go, giving you another smile.

“Yeah, still gotta help you pick out the right shoes for your dress,” you say.

She nods, “and maybe I’ll manage to convince you to come, after all,” she says as she pulls away and begins to walk out of your room, “I’d rather go with you than Jason,” she says quickly before she turns around and leaves the room, saying ‘bye’ in a sing song voice.

You chuckle and throw your head back against the pillow.

“Jason Carver,” you mumble in disgust. Not a single person could ever force you to go to the winter formal with him but Chrissy’s mother is the epitome of an evil witch, you know that she will make her life more miserable if she doesn’t do as she says. You understand why Chrissy would rather suffer through the night with him than risk a fight with her mother.

Not even five minutes after she left, the doorbell rings. Looking around the room, you try to see if she forgot something, that’s what usually happens when she leaves, she rushes back in a few minutes later because she left her keys or something else. Sighing, you push roll out of bed and rush out of the room.

The doorbell rings again.

“I’m coming!” You call out, “since when are you so impatient..”

Your socks are a little slippery on the hardwood floor, careful not to fall, you hold onto the railing as you hurry down the stairs. Grabbing the doorknob, you are already smiling in amusement, “let me guess, you forgot–” with your words caught in your throat and your smile falling quicker than ever, you only manage to stare at him in confusion.

There he is, Steve Harrington, standing on your front porch with his hands in his pocket and an unreadable expression on his face. What does he want?

Even though it was him who came here to see you, he stands frozen in place. He stares at you and you stare at him. You are both frozen, time stops, everything stops moving, right now, it’s just the two of you in this world.

It’s the first time you look at him again, properly. All the sadness, all the pain and the longing comes creeping back. It was there all this time, hidden beneath all the anger but it was easier to deal with it when you started pretending like he didn’t exist anymore, when you forced yourself not to look at him anymore, when you threw all his things away, when you let go of him. How dare he show up here?

Steve watches the way your eyes flash with confusion, anger and sadness, they soften for a split second. This is the first time you actually look at him again. This is the first time you are forced to acknowledge his presence again. A feeling he can only describe as relief rushes through him when you finally look into his eyes again.

It feels like forever that you look at each other when in reality only a minute passed since you opened the door. You blink and take a step back, rolling your eyes, you go to shut the door without wanting to hear an explanation as to why he is here– “no.” Is all you say before slamming the door in his face but he is quicker than you, he always was. He places his palm on the door, stopping you from closing it, “wait–”

“Get lost, Harrington.”

He sighs, he didn’t expect anything else from you.

You try to close the door again but he doesn’t let you, keeping his palm pressed against the wooden door, he stares at you with a stubborn look on his face. God, you want to punch him.

“What do you want?” You ask as you finally give up and let go of the door, you cross your arms over your chest and take a step back, not looking into his eyes. You raise your brows and glare at him when he invites himself into your house, he shuts the door behind him. You shake your head in disbelief.

He is wearing the stupid flannel that you used to love so much, the one you always stole from him– does it still smell like you?

“We have to work on the assignment together.”

Is he serious?

“I told you, I’ll do it myself,” you snap at him before you turn around and make your way into the kitchen in hopes that he will leave but instead, he follows you into the kitchen.

“We’re partners, it wouldn’t be fair to let you do all the work by yourself.”

You clench your jaw at his words, how ironic of him to say that. Turning the light on in the kitchen, you walk towards the fridge and open it, distracting yourself from his presence by staring at all the food and drinks.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m used to doing all the work myself, my previous partner wasn’t much of a help,” you murmur, “in any way.”

Steve scoffs at your words, though he looks down in embarrassment, knowing exactly what things you are talking about. He places his hands on his hips and glances at you through his lashes, he eyes you for a moment before he speaks up, “listen, I-I wanna do better in school and I really want to work on this assignment.”

You close your eyes, shaking your head, you take a deep breath. Why did he have to sit next to you today?

“Since when do you care about being better in school?” You ask in annoyance, reaching for a water bottle, you close the fridge again and turn around to face him. He breaks eye contact the moment you raise your brows in question.

He shrugs, “I wanna graduate next year and Mr. Higgins said that I–”

“Don’t care,” you interrupt him and sigh of boredom.

He looks a little taken aback, furrowing his brows, he stares at you for a moment as he presses his lips back together. When he came here, he didn’t expect you to be so.. mean. Steve only ever knew you as the sweet girl, not once did you treat him badly in all the years he has known you. You never gave him the cold shoulder, not even when he deserved it. You were always kind, gentle and forgiving.

Heartbreak changes a person but not like this, right? What happened in those two months ever since he left?

While Steve tries to figure you out. You try to figure out how to handle this situation.

Should you curse him out and kick him out of your house and show him how hurt you still are? Should you really give him that satisfaction? Or should you pretend to be okay, give him the cold shoulder that you should’ve given him years ago and act like you are fine with this, with working with him?

You opt for the latter. You don’t want him to see the power he still has over you. You don’t want him to see how much you still want him.

You can feel his eyes on you, burning into you, it makes your skin crawl.

You take deep breaths before you look back up at him.

“Don’t you have better things to do on a Thursday night?” You scoff. You know damn well that he never worked on homeworks or assignments when he was still with you, he had ‘better’ things to do. You were the one that did all these things for him.

“Can we just work on this?” He sighs.

You roll your eyes and shrug, “yeah.”

Surprise flashes in his eyes, he didn’t think that it would be that easy to convince you to work with him. For weeks, you wouldn’t even look at him, you wouldn’t even glance into his direction. He figured that it was because of how hurt you were after the breakup but now he begins to doubt that that is why you stopped acknowledging him.

“Come on then,” you mumble as you make your way out of the kitchen, brushing past him. He nods, looking down at the floor, he turns around and follows you into the hallway, turning the light off on the way out.

It feels weird to be back in your house, it feels so familiar yet so… strange. There isn’t much in your room that has changed since the last time he had been in here– only the lack of his things is noticeable to him. The bottle of his cologne that used to be on your dresses is gone and so are the collection of polaroids. He frowns, a weird feeling tugs at his heart. You got rid of everything. It shouldn’t bother him as much as it does. He looks around the room that haunts his dreams– a piece of clothing that neither belongs to you or him is draped over the chair by your desk. It’s a black denim jacket. Clenching his jaw, he wonders if it belongs to Billy. The thought of you wearing his clothes, of you being with him makes him so.. angry.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” You mumble without looking back at him. You are already back on your bed with your notebook in your lap. He stares at you, the moment feels too familiar. He remembers climbing up to your window one night, he wanted to surprise you with flowers. You were sitting on your bed just like you do now but instead of the notebook you had a magazine on your lap and you were wearing pajamas. You looked so cute.

“We gotta settle on a topic,” you say and raise your head to look at him.

Steve’s brows are still furrowed, he still stares at you. He feels confused, irritated and a little hurt. You seem so.. okay. You look at him and talk to him as though nothing ever happened. Are you okay without him? Are you happier without him?

He blinks, snapping himself out of his thoughts, he walks towards your desk, he pulls out the chair and sits down.

“Yeah.. what do you wanna write about?”

You shrug, “I don’t know, we could totally write an essay about snakes, there’s one in my room, right now.”

His lips part and his face scrunches up in confusion, it takes him a moment to realize what you mean. His shoulders slump and he scoffs, “very funny.”

“I know,” you smirk.

“We could write about basketball–”

Your scoff cuts him off, causing him to roll his eyes.

“Or about cheerleading–”

“Are you crazy?”

“I think you know more about cheerleading than I do, you were the one who convinced me to do it after all,” you say, tilting your head at him, “remember?”

He leans back in the chair, spreading his legs, he nods at your words and clenches his jaw, “yeah..”

There is so much tension in your room, his presence makes you angry.

After the initial shock subsided and the sadness turned into anger, you began to curse him for what he did, especially when you found out that he had kissed her while he was still with you. That is something you will never forgive him, the lies and the cheating.

The anger makes you feel stronger, it keeps the sadness away, for the most part, at least.

“How about we do something more classy– although, you don’t do classy, so…”

Steve rolls his eyes at your words, “not like you do it either,” he mumbles.

You snort, not showing him the anger or the annoyance that you are feeling right now. You tilt your head and stare at him in question.

“I mean, given that you fucked Billy Hargrove out of all people,” he says with a looks of distaste on his face.

What?

You almost laugh in his face but you hold yourself back.

He eyes your expression slowly, waiting for a reaction. He expects you to scoff, to look caught, to look embarrassed, to blush or to deny it all– just the way you always denied your attraction to Billy every time he brought it up but he gets nothing from you. Absolutely nothing and it only fuels his anger even more. The burning in his chest and stomach worsens when you look at him with a straight face.

You look at him for a while, not moving, not saying anything, he can’t even read the look on your face. After a while, you sigh and look down at your notebook, “so how about we write an essay about Romeo and Juliet?” You ask, “you know, since it’s the only book you actually ever touched.”

His brows knit together, his cheeks grow red, “are you not gonna say anything?”

His irrational anger amuses you a little but you don’t show it.

You look at him through hooded eyes, not raising your head, “I just did?”

He rolls his eyes and stands up, walking towards you, “I mean about Billy.”

“What about him?”

“Did you sleep with him?” He asks.

His eyes flash with desperation. He wants to know, he needs to know.

How ironic it is to see him beg for an answer when he has no right to even get one. He never gave you the truth so why should you? You are not his anymore.

His eyes are pleading. Why does he want to know? Why does he even care? He has the girl he truly loves, why should it matter what you do or who you do it with?

“So, I’m not sure if you remember the story but in Romeo and Juliet, there’s obviously that tragic ending so–”

“Y/n,” he sighs.

You close your mouth and glare at him, you used to love hearing him say your name, now you hate it.

“Would you rather write an essay about Billy Hargrove?” You ask calmly, giving him a fake smile.

“No,” he rolls his eyes.

“Good, cause I don’t either.”

He runs his fingers through his hair and huffs in frustration, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“We could write about pride and prejudice.”

You lift your chin and look at him in surprise. You used to reread that book all the time, he knows it’s your favorite– he used to steal it out of your hands, reading some of Mr.Darcy’s lines in a mocking way, back then it made you laugh.

“You didn’t even read it,” you murmur.

“I can read it now,” he shrugs, “you still have it, right?”

“We got a week to finish the essay, Steve. It’ll take you days to even finish and understand that book so don’t even bother–”

“No,” he says stubbornly, “I want to.”

You throw your hands up, “why?”

‘Cause you wanted to choose the book for your next essay, you told him that weeks before.. her. ‘Cause you love it so much– or used to love it.

He doesn’t look at you, he stares at the ground and shrugs, “just let me do it, please,” he says, “I can get started on the essay while reading it.”

You try to figure him out. Why is this so important to him? He used to make fun of that book, of you reading so much. He would laugh whenever you offered to read it for him and now he suddenly wants to read it himself?

Sighing, you get up and walk towards your bookshelf. You bend down and reach for the book before you turn back to face him.

It feels weird to see him back in your room– a place he spent so many nights in, a place he used to kiss you in, a place he used to touch you in.

“Here.”

You hold it out to him, keeping distance between the two of you as though you are scared to come near him. His fingertips brush yours when he takes the book from you, warmth spreads across his skin and he finds himself looking at your face.

You quickly pull your hand back and cross your arms over your chest, avoiding his eyes, “well, you should probably get started then,” you mumble, nudging your chin into the direction of your door, subtly kicking him out.

“Yeah,” he breathes and looks back down, eying the cover of your beloved book, “what are you doing tomorrow night?”

Just leave, please. You think to yourself.

“Why?”

“Well, we could start working on it tomorrow,” he offers.

“Yeah sure.” You don’t want to work with him, you don’t want to see him but agreeing to it will get him out of your house sooner, “I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

You can feel his eyes on you, he is staring and it makes you want to both scream and cry. Leave, just leave.

“I’ll get going.” He steps away, taking one last look at you before he turns around, “good night, y/n.”

You don’t say anything back, you stay silent, refusing to even look at him. You don’t notice the way he halts in his tracks when his eyes fall on the picture on your wall, the only one left of him. Steve knows that you didn’t keep it up because of him but it still makes something inside of him burn. There’s no other reminders of him left, only this one. You could have cut him out but you didn’t, you kept him there. His eyes soften and he glances at you. You are still standing there in the same spot, with your arms crossed and your gaze stuck to the floor. The urge to– no. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to leave.

Your fingernails dig into your arms, you bite your lip as you feel the tears welling up in your eyes. The lump in your throat begins to grow. Why did he show up? You hear him walking down the stairs and it feels like forever until he reaches the door. The sob begins to threaten to escape.

You slowly make your way towards your bedroom door, shutting it quietly. You press your back against it and look up at the ceiling. Tears roll down your cheeks the minute you let your guard down.

“I hate you, Steve Harrington.”

Cold water dribbles down on him, making goosebumps rise up on his skin, he shivers at the feeling but sighs in content when he feels himself getting more energized again. Basketball practice tired him more than usual but that was probably because he stayed up all night, reading pride and prejudice. To his surprise, he ended up liking it more than he thought. Though he can’t stand Darcy for some reason.

Another thing that kept him up was you. Your indifference, your lack of emotions, the anger and the sadness he had seen in your eyes the last time you had looked at him was gone. There is nothing in your eyes now, just simply nothing. It shouldn’t bother him, in fact, it should make him feel relieved to know that you are not hurting anymore but somehow it hurts him to know that you just don’t care anymore.

He didn’t love you but you loved him, at least that’s what he always believed.

Did you realize that you never loved him either?

“What’s wrong, Harrington? Did you realize that you’re a shit player?”

He can’t even help but sigh in annoyance. His jaw clenches and so do his fists. He waited until everyone was done showering, not feeling like interacting with anyone, he didn’t know that Billy was still around, if he knew, he would’ve been the first in the shower.

He opens his eyes and glares at him.

Billy looks at him with a smirk on his face, he turns the water on and closes his eyes as he steps under the stream.

Steve decides to ignore him, turning his head away from him, he reaches for his shampoo with shaky hands. Just the presence of Billy is enough for him to shake out of anger. He hates him so much.

“Heard you were at y/n’s house last night.”

At that, Steve tenses up. How and why does he know? He keeps his eyes down as he begins to wash his hair.

“Yeah, so?”

Billy chuckles, taking a moment to reply.

“What were you doing there?”

“How’s that any of your business?” Steve mumbles in annoyance.

Billy shrugs, narrowing his eyes at him, “when assholes like you go to their ex-girlfriends house it’s usually to fuck,” he says, smirking.

Steve shakes his head, “we’re working on an essay together.”

“Mhm.”

To his surprise, Billy keeps quiet for the remaining time. Steve quickly finishes up and leaves the shower after wrapping a towel around his waist, wanting to escape him as quickly as he can.

Steve can’t stand to be in the same room as him for longer than a minute, he always felt that way about him but especially after hearing those rumors about you and Billy from Tommy and Carol. It still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Back in the locker room, he scrunches his face up in disgust, it smells like sweat, too much deodorant and cologne in here. No one is around anymore, everyone has already left.

Steve reaches for his dirty clothes and stuffs them into his duffle bag before he starts getting dressed. He puts on a pair of boxers and his jeans and reaches for his belt when Billy walks back in.

Steve’s jaw feels tense from all the clenching but he can’t stop it. Every time he sees him, he thinks of you and him together. He thinks of you being touched by him, of you being kissed by him, of you being– god, he can’t stand it. He can’t stand the thought of you being touched by Billy Hargrove or any other man for that matter.

He knows that there is a huge chance that you aren’t with him or with anyone else but he can’t be too sure.

“Did you fuck her?”

Billy smirks when the question finally tumbles out of Steve’s mouth, he knows that he has been dying to ask. He stays silent and puts his clothes on instead, taking his time with it.

Steve puts his sweater over his head and turns around to face Billy, who is already staring at him smugly as he dries his hair with the white towel.

Steve’s nostrils flare and he feels like throwing a punch at him already, he clenches his fists, fingernails digging into his palms.

“Why are you asking a question that you already know the answer to?” Billy smirks.

He stiffens a little, gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to do what he so badly wants to do.

“I don’t know the answer, that’s why I’m asking.”

“Why do you want to know?” Billy chuckles as he tilts his head to the side, he throws the towel back on the bench and puts his white tank top on, “you dumped her.”

Billy walks towards him slowly, he looks confident, he always does. He looks directly into his eyes, the smugness remaining on his face.

“Let me tell you something.”

Steve drops his arms to his sides and puffs out his chest, raising his chin slightly. His heartbeat quickens, not out of fear but out of anticipation.

“When you came to school with your new little plaything, she left. I found her behind the school, she was crying.”

Nothing good will come out of his mouth next, Steve already knows it. The thought of you crying over him does little to mend the anger in his chest.

“Wanna know what I did?” Billy asks, raising his brows. He licks his lips and grins a little as he steps closer.

Steve nudges his chin up.

“I took her home and I fucked her so hard that she forgot that you ever existed. In fact, I think a good fuck was all it needed,” Billy chuckles darkly as he looks him up and down, “‘cause you clearly never fucked her good enough.”

Steve is seething, burning and trembling with anger. The smirk on the blond’s face is only fueling his anger.

“Now I’m not the only one,” Billy smirks at the angry look on Steve’s face. His cheeks are red, the brown in his eyes vanished completely, all there is now is blackness. He is not just angry, he is in rage and Billy is loving it. “A little birdie told me that she’s been sneaking around with one of the stoners, so..” Billy laughs, turning around with satisfaction in his eyes.

Steve doesn’t know whether to throw a punch, to scream at him or at himself for feeling this way. He wants to throw up at the thought of you fucking Billy, of you sneaking around with some loser.

Billy grabs his stuff, he puts on his brown leather jacket. He can sense Steve’s anger and it makes him feel more satisfied than ever.

“Let me tell you a little secret, Steve. Girls like her, the ones who get left behind by their daddies, they’re a little damaged but they keep going. They still got a little hope left, but the moment they get their heart broken by some asshole they fall in love with, they’re damaged beyond repair. Even if you come crawling back to her and she ends up being stupid enough to take your sorry ass back, she will never be the same again. You crushed her poor little heart.”

Steve is breathing heavily, his knuckles are white from how hard he is clenching his fist. He would love nothing more than to finally throw that punch but he holds himself back, knowing that it will only make things even worse.

Billy slaps his hand on Steve’s shoulder, narrowing his eyes, he chuckles, “loosen up, King Steve, go and get your little geek. I’ll take care of y/n, I think she’s better off with me anyways. At least she feels something when I fuck her.”

And with that, Billy leaves him standing, knowing the damage he caused, it leaves him more satisfied than ever, to know that he messed with him— to know what it takes to mess with him.

next part

only tagging friends!

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things angst

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asmosmainhoe · 5 months

Text

Mammon, Asmo & MC sneak Diavolo out for the night

This is looooong, but I had SO MUCH fun writing it

Mammon Asmodeus Diavolo Barbatos Lucifer

Gender: neutral

Warnings: heavy language, alcohol consume

Actually the plan was for only you, Asmo and Mammon to go out tonight, but you invited Diavolo to join you guys. It's because when you told him about it he got so excited for you three in a way that made you sad which lead you to what you did

You send Diavolo a quick text that the small group is coming over to his castle for some "tea" in his private chambers

Asmo packed some stuff like makeup, accessories etc for everyone to get ready at the castle. Since it's a lot to carry you and Mammon put some in your own bags after Asmo threatened you to take good care of his stuff

Everyone starts getting ready after successfully getting past Barbatos who found it more than odd that the tea would be served in the Lord's bedroom instead of in one of the usual rooms, but oh well. Diavolo is known for doing strange things from time to time

"I'm done!"

"Uh..."

"Lord Diavolo..."

"No you're not done."

The demon prince is standing there in full royal attire. You, Mammon and Asmo aren't sure where exactly to start the list of things that are wrong about his appearance

"Everyone will recognize you like this, Dia. Don't you have anything that screams less royalty?"

"What do you mean? This is my most casual outfit."

"Oh hell no."

Asmo gets immediately to work by removing the jacket and tie and continues his work by unbottoning Diavolo's black dress shirt

"What are ya doing, Asmo?! You can't undress Lord Diavolo like that!"

"Calm down! As much as I'd love to do that, I'm only opening up the dress shirt a little bit. See? It looks way more casual like this."

The beautiful demon managed to change Diavolo's entire presence with only a couple small adjustments, but there is still a tiny problem

"How do we cover his face?"

Again Asmo comes to the rescue! Without any hesitation he combs the Lord's hair back to expose his entire face and puts a very real looking fake mustache over the top lip

Wait what?

"Why do you own that, Asmo?"

"And why did ya bring it with you?"

"Instead of questioning me you should be thankful that I have this thing in the first place!"

Diavolo looks nearly unrecognizable unless someone would stare at him real intense

Even if you might not be a big fan of mustaches you have to admit that he kinda looks attractive that way. Mammon finishes the look by handing the Lord his sun glasses

"Are we all feeling sexy?"

"Yes!"

"Perfect! Let's go!"

Who knew that climbing down a balcony located on the highest floor of a castle could proof to be so difficult? Especially when one is all dressed up!

The first destination is a restaurant where you lay out your plans for the night to Diavolo and have a quick meal before the fun starts

Throughout the entire time the demon prince looks as excited as a child who's allowed to stay up longer than usually

"And you really don't mind the risk that comes with it?"

"Oh I'm not worried at all! Asmodeus did such an amazing job that I didn't even recognize myself in the mirror!"

"I made reservations for a small VIP area at the club. It's nothing too fancy so we won't attract much attention, but it's enough to give us some peace."

Mammon and Asmo exchange disappointed looks with each other when you mentioned the part about not attracting attention, but they're staying quiet

"Thank you so much for letting me be a part of this. It's my first time going out like this and you have no idea how grateful I am for you three to risk your lives like this."

"No problem Lord Dia- wait what was that with riskin' our lives?"

"Oh, you know in case Lucifer or Barbatos find out about it."

The tension in the air is so thick it could be cut with scissors. None of you have even thought about the obvious possibility of the first born or the royal butler to find out about your doing. Now that Diavolo mentioned it this might as well be the last night you three are alive

If Diavolo catches onto the fear building up inside you guys then he sure as fuck doesn't seem to mind. Instead he's digging into his meal with a wide grin while your appetite has vanished into thin air

After the awkward last supper you slowly make your way to the club and with some light hearted conversations the worries quickly fade away and get replaced by a more relaxing mood

The demon at the entrance let's you pass almost immediately upon hearing your name

"Before you four enter the area, can I get the names of your friends first? We've had some issues lately and need them for security reasons."

"I'm the great Mammon, this is my brother Asmodeus and this is our...uhm...Stephen."

"Your Stephen?"

"...yes."

Much to your relief the demon doesn't question you any further and let's you in, but not without giving you all a skeptical side-eye

"Shit, Mammon, was that seriously the best you could come up with?"

"You could have taken over if you wanted to, ya know!"

"I'm Stephen."

Once your group falls down onto a couch in a more secluded area you start to think about what to drink

"They have a Merlot! I might take that."

"No, we're doin' shots tonight!"

The two boys stopped addressing Diavolo with his title a while ago and he looks anything except bothered by it. In fact his grin has gotten even bigger over time and you notice how much more comfortable everyone is now than at the beginning of the night

Everyone is having a great time and everything seems to go smoothly even though you lost count of the amount of drinks your small group has ordered

Until your D.D.D. lights up from a call

"Guys, it's Lucifer."

"Don't answer! We texted him that we're sleepin' over at Diavolo's so if you don't answer then he might think we're asleep!"

"My name is Stephen."

Drunk Mammon is surprisingly reasonable so you decide to go with his suggestion and ignore the call

Just as your anxiety retreats Asmo gets a call from the first born as well. That can't possibly be a coincidence right?

You all receive at least one call that none of you answers. After a while there's nothing happening and you're starting to imagine Lucifer bursting through the ceiling to give you the beating of a lifetime

But your phones stay silent and you collectively let out a sigh

"We're safe."

But then your D.D.D. lights up again from something far greater than the threatening call of Lucifer. It's a message

"Where are you?"

Your mouth dries out completely and you're unable to form a coherent thought. Mammon takes the phone from your hands to see what got you so petrified just to turn into a living statue as well

One by one you all freeze. Luicfer is easy to avoid and it wouldn't be the first time you become the target of his wrath, but angering Barbatos is a whole other story

If the royal butler comes for you then all that's left to do is lay down and pray that he'll have the mercy to make your death go by fast

"You have to answer him, MC."

You're simply texting him that you guys are on the way to the castle

This is where the fun ends. The walk home consists of Diavolo apologizing every five minutes and you telling him that it's not his fault. It was your idea after all and you'll be the one to take full responsibility

"Ya can't do that, MC!"

"Right! There's no way we will let you take the fall for us."

"No, I was the one who came up with this thing so I will be the one to take the hit. Besides, Lucifer and Barbatos are going to go easier on me than they will on you two."

The royal butler is awaiting you four at the entrance of the castle with a smile cold enough to freeze over the entirety of hell

No one dares to say a word as you enter and Barbatos lifts his hand when you open your mouth to say something

"I want you to know that I'm not mad."

Phew

"Just disappointed."

"Barbatos, you have to know that this is completely my fault. Mammon and Asmo didn't have anything to do with it."

He ignores your words

"Lucifer asked me to send you back home. I brought it upon myself to pack your belongings so you don't have to stay longer than absolutely necessary."

This is the politest way someone has ever kicked you out, but it still hurt like shit

Diavolo puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes it lightly which provides you with a little bit of comfort. The kind smile on his face tells you that he will do his best to set this right for you and the brothers

You squeeze his hand back with your own and with your bags you, Mammon and Asmo leave for the house of lamentation where the upset first born awaits you

Lucifer's lips are a thin line and his eyebrow can't seem to stop twitching. Judging by the dark aura around him he's barely holding himself back from throwing every curse known to mankind at you

"I don't expect much from my brothers, but I do expect more from you, MC"

"We wanted to have fun!"

"By kidnapping the prince?"

"Lucifer, please-"

"Get out of my sight! All three of you! We'll continue this tomorrow morning before I can't control myself and rip you all to shreds."

BONUS:

(Group chat with you, Mammon, Asmo & Diavolo the next morning)

Diavolo: I'm sorry that you guys got in trouble. I'll try to sort this out as quickly as possible

Mammon: Can ya do it before Lucifer kills us?

Asmo: Yes, it would be much appreciated

MC: Either way, thank you for trying

Diavolo: It's the least I can do

Diavolo: And Asmodeus? What glue did you use for the fake beard?

Asmo: Why?

Diavolo: The mustache won't come off...

---

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me brothers #obey me diavolo #obey me dia #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me mc #obey me brothers x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo x reader #tw alcohol #tw alchohol mention

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writingforstraykids · 2 months

Text

I owe you a kiss - Pt.6

Pairing: Minchan x femReader

Word Count: 5362

Summary: Once you're back home, your husbands try their best to support you, but the circumstances are taking their toll on you. It all goes well until you find out who was the one driving that night...

Warnings/Tags: mention of amnesia, angst, tiny mention of blood, fluff, cuddles, anxious!soft!min, caring!soft!channie, domestic stuff, husband!min, husband!chan

A/N: I know, I know it looks like shit in the beginning but trust the word count, it'll get all good, soft and domestic🖤

PART FIVE | PART SEVEN

Minho slips out of his shoes and stands still for a moment. Chan closes the door and hesitantly slips his hand into Minho's. “Kitten?” he asks quietly but gets no response. “Min, look at me, please.”

Minho does, looking at him with wet eyes, still not saying a word. Chan gently rubs his shoulders before cupping his face and flashing him a small smile. “I know I should be happy,” he finally says. “I know I should be relieved that she's awake and talking. I know I should be happy that we finally got her back. I know I shouldn't still be feeling like shit,” he rambles, and Chan soothingly fondles his cheeks. “But you know how much she hates losing control. You know how scared she gets of change,” he hiccups helplessly, and a few hot tears slip down his cheeks. “Once it'll all settle in, she'll hate me, and I-I can't even blame her because I did-didn't do anything else those p-past two months a-and-.”

“Hey,” Chan says so softly it makes him shut his mouth. “I won't let that happen, baby. It was an accident and there was nothing you could've done,” he says firmly and pulls him in close. “I'm so thankful you're both alive, you know? I don't know-” his voice breaks, and Minho's heart sinks at the sound. “I don't know what I would've done if…,” he stops himself, not daring to put his deepest fear into words. “I get it, Minnie because it would've been a lot easier without the memory loss. I'm terrified of hurting her because I'm not fully feeling well yet. But as long as you won't let go of my hand in all this, I know I'll be okay.”

Minho carefully pulls Chan's hands off his face and intertwines their fingers. “I won't let go,” he says.

“I'll always have your back, okay?” Chan asks timidly, and Minho nods quickly.

“And I'll have yours,” he promises and squeezes his hands.

“I could really use a hug,” Chan admits, and Minho doesn't hesitate, pulling him close and kissing his cheek. He gently sways them from side to side and exhales softly. “I love you, Min.”

“I love you too, Channie,” Minho whispers back and squeezes him tightly.

Minho gently helps you out of your jacket and hangs it up for you. Neither Chan nor Minho had remembered that you only moved in here one and a half years ago, so the house was another factor. He watches you glance around the hallway timidly and swallows softly. “Anything familiar?” he asks gently.

You swallow hard and shake your head. “Not besides…some of the interior,” you tell him.

He notices how anxious it makes you and carefully slips his hand into yours. “Let me give you a tour, come on.”

You follow him through the house and recognize some bits of your old home. He tells you where to find the most important things, and seems like he's afraid to say anything wrong. It makes you sick seeing your husband try so hard to make you comfortable in a suddenly so unfamiliar place. “I-I'll go use the bathroom real quick,” you tell him, and he nods, telling you again where to find it.

You close the door and take a deep breath, hugging yourself tightly. “Fuck,” you whisper and sit down heavily at the edge of the bathtub. If you wouldn't know Minho and Chan had been your boyfriends for four years and then husbands for another five you would've freaked out at the hospital. You couldn't remember the past two years of your marriage, but the seven years before are enough to trust them. Still, it all feels so weird. You don't notice how much time has passed until Minho gently knocks at the door and lets himself in. He sits down next to you, and for a moment, you're both quiet. “Minho?” you ask timidly.

“Yeah?” he asks gently, turning to look at you.

“Have I been a good wife to you and Chan? Did we have fights? Did I hurt you? Did you hurt me?” you ask, and he inhales deeply. “I know this sounds weird, but…I have no idea where we left off.”

Minho fidgets with his wedding bands and hums thoughtfully. “I can't remember anything big concerning the two of us, we usually get along very well,” he tells you, a small smile on his lips. “We were on a date before the accident. I was very tired, was fighting with Chan over the phone, and…you said you'd take me out for dinner. You were trying to cheer me up, and you did, you always do,” he says and gently clears his throat, pushing away the images of what happened after.

“What about Chan?” you ask timidly, sensing something off.

Minho straightens up and pinches his nose, trying to figure out where to start. “About…six months ago, Channie wasn't feeling very well. He was overwhelmed with work and had no resources left for either of us, including himself. He pushed us both away, and one night, when I was abroad, he called me, saying he got into a fight with you and something was seriously wrong,” he tells you and chews on his lower lip. “I called you, asking you to go back and check on him as I flew back home. Chan was feeling numb for quite some time, and we did our best to support him figure out ways to make him feel again. After a while, he decided to visit his family in Australia, take a break, and everything. I stepped in for him at work, and it was killing me,” he admits. “I missed him like hell. I had to lead our team, and I felt lost without him, but you never gave up on me,” he says and his hand subconsciously slips into yours. “He caught me on a bad day, we got into an argument, and well…then we had that accident. Channie got onto the next plane and came back home as fast as he could.”

“Is he still struggling?” you ask hesitantly, and Minho smiles weakly.

“I don't know, Y/nnie. This whole thing has taken a huge toll on me. I broke down repeatedly and Chan took care of me as best as he could. He even got me a therapist, imagine that,” he laughs, and you can tell he's not really doing well with any of this. “I don't think he had much time to figure out how he truly feels. I should've been there for him more, but I…I could barely get myself out of bed sometimes.”

“I'm sorry,” you apologize timidly, squeezing his hand. “I'm so sorry, Min.”

Minho shakes his head firmly. “None of this is your fault,” he says and searches your eyes. “None of it, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod hesitantly.

Minho inhales shakily, a suspicious shimmer covering his eyes. “I know this whole memory thing is shit, honey. I feel selfish for saying this, but I'm just so glad you're alive and back home.”

You smile weakly and squeeze his hand firmly. “As long as I have you two, I'll be okay sooner or later.”

Minho gently squeezes back and looks up as Chan steps into the doorframe. “Oh my, am I interrupting something?” he chuckles.

“Hey, Channie love,” Minho says softly and Chan leans down to give him a kiss.

“Hey, kitten,” he smiles, gently caressing his cheek. Chan turns to you and gently brushes back your hair, kissing your head, unsure if you feel like kissing. “You're okay?”

“More or less,” you nod, and he sits down on your other side.

“We're always here if you need someone,” he tells you and gently pats your knee.

“Thanks,” you nod tiredly. “I really appreciate it, this can't be easy for you either.”

Minho remains quiet this time and glances at Chan. “We're just glad to have you back. The rest we can figure out together,” he assures you. “Just let us know, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod gently.

You turn onto your side heavily and are met with a sight that used to bring a smile to your face. Minho's asleep next to you, his hair hanging into his face, lips parted, and his bunny teeth showing a little. His lashes throw their shadows on his cheekbones and you once more notice how beautiful he is. You've been home for a week now and Minho took another two months off to keep an eye on you. You like being home with Min because he's there when you need him but lets you be when you don't. He doesn't push, he doesn't talk your ears off, and he tries his best not to handle you like you're made out of glass. Still, you can tell he doesn't see you when he looks at you. He doesn't see his wife. He sees the accident and the woman he lost due to the memory loss, and the guilt in his eyes suffocates you sometimes.

You haven't dared look up the accident yet, but slowly, you can't fight the urge to see what really happened that night. Minho doesn't like talking about it, and Chan wasn't there.

You slip out of bed and grab your phone, leaving your husband on his own. Locking yourself in the bathroom, you start researching and soon find article over article. Pictures of the crashed car send shivers down your spine. Investigating some further you can tell how worried your friends were about Minho during their interviews, who looks nothing but truly exhausted. You can tell he hasn't been sleeping much; his eyes look glassy in most of them, and Chan never leaves his side.

Minho looks up as you come downstairs to join him for breakfast and gets up, putting some waffles on your plate. “Thought you'd like something sweet,” he says and flashes you a smile.

“Who was driving?” you ask, making him freeze for a second.

“What do you mean?” he asks, but the slight tremble in his voice tells you he knows exactly what you mean.

“The accident. Who was driving?” you ask again, stopping in front of the table.

Minho carefully puts the plate down in front of you. “Does it matter?” he asks timidly.

“It does,” you nod, tilting your head at him. “Will you be honest with me, or do I have to ask someone else?”

He stares at you, wondering what you're aiming at with that question, but gives himself a push. “I was.”

“Were you drunk?” you ask, and Minho's frown deepens.

“No.”

“You said you were tired, was that it? Was that what made you miss something?” you ask, and he subconsciously takes a step back. “Were you so upset about Chan that you weren't paying attention?”

“Y/nnie,” he pleads quietly. “Don’t do this.”

“Min,” you say firmly. “I can't remember the past two years of my life. I don't know what happened and no one can tell me because that'll only be your version of every day,” you say and take a shuddery breath. “Chan hasn't kissed me once since I'm back home, and you look at me like I'm something broken you're too attached to to get rid of. That hurts, Min. I just want my fucking life back!”

Minho raises his hands in defense and steps closer to you. “Honey, I'm sorry, you're right. I can't make up for all that time. But she said they'd come back to you in a few months, at least that the chance is very, very high,” he tries, but the way your eyes darken, he knows you don't want to hear any of it. He tries to brace himself for the emotional outburst that's about to happen, but he can't prepare himself for what you say next.

“No, you really can't make up for it. Not if you're the one causing this whole mess,” you say, noticing the fear flickering in his eyes, but you don't care. “You were the one driving, you're the one feeling guilty, and now I know why. My whole life went to shit because of you!” you snap at him. Minho doesn't say anything, simply stares at you as your words sink in. His body trembles, his stomach tightening painfully, and his eyes filling with tears. “You fucked everything up, and you're trying so hard to make up for it by staying home with me. Now I know why you so desperately try to make me feel better, and I thought it was because you loved me!”

Minho looks at you as if you just hit him right in the face. A soft whimper leaves his lips, snapping you out of your rage, before tears start running down his face, and his body shakes with a sob. “I know, okay?!” he snaps right back at you. “I know it's all my fault! I-I know I fucked up, and I-I'm the one to b-blame,” he hiccups helplessly, taking a few steps back as you reach for him timidly. “I'm sorry, Y/nnie, I swear, I did-didn't want this.”

“Min,” you whisper guiltily, but your husband shakes his head firmly, biting back a sob. “I'm so sorry, darling, I didn't mean it.”

“Don't lie,” he says, voice cracking.

“I'm sorry, please,” you try, but Minho pushes past you and goes back upstairs. You let him, knowing he can't handle you, seeing how badly you just hurt him. Helplessly, you grab your phone and call Chan.

“Hey, baby girl, I'm on my way home. Is everything-.”

“Channie,” you whimper.

“What's wrong, baby?” he asks worriedly, putting you on speaker.

“I hurt Min,” you tell him, hugging yourself tightly and sitting down on the sofa.

“Hurt him how?” he asks nervously, taking a turn left.

“I said some dumb stuff about him being responsible for my life turning to shit and that the accident was his fault,” you say, and it's quiet for a moment. “Chan?”

“Ynnie…please tell me you didn't,” Chan says lowly, heart sinking to his stomach. “Please tell me you didn't.”

“I'm sorry, Channie, I didn't mean it,” you whisper timidly. “I was just…I don't know what got into me.”

“I…fuck, okay, I'll be home in a bit,” he tells you, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat.

“Thank you,” you sniffle.

Chan stares at his phone as you end the call and slams his hand on the wheel. “Fucks sake Ynnie, not when I finally convinced him otherwise,” he curses and finally reaches your street. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Chan quietly pulls the front door closed behind himself and swallows hard as he meets your anxious eyes. “Where is he?” he asks.

“Upstairs,” you tell him. “Channie, I'm sorry,” you tell him, tears filling your eyes. “I'm so sorry.”

Chan sighs softly and opens his arms for you, pulling you into a tight hug as you get up. “I know you are. I know you're struggling, and I know we can't take that pain away,” he says, soothingly rubbing your back. “But baby girl, you can't forget Minho is a victim here too. He might have been the one driving, but he's also the one who saw you unconscious, covered in blood, and not knowing if you'd ever wake up again,” he tells you gently, without sounding like he's blaming you even a little. “He still feels guilty because he'd rather be the one getting hurt. He's been having nightmares and panic attacks and had a really hard time believing that it isn't his fault, you know?”

“I just fucked that up, didn't I?” you ask timidly.

“I don't know,” he answers honestly.

“I asked him if he was drunk,” you admit shamefully.

Chan bites back a sigh, trying to be patient with you. “Okay, come on,” he says and pulls you to the sofa. “The police provided us the security camera footage, where you very clearly see who's at fault,” he says and grabs his phone, showing you the clip.

You can see your car pulling up at the crossroads. Suddenly, a car races down the street from the right and crashes right into your side. It's raining heavily, making the road slippery and causing both cars to slide to the side a few meters. Once the video is over, you look at Chan horrified.

“That other driver was drunk,” he tells you gently. “He was speeding, ignored a red light, and honestly, looking at this, it's a miracle you two are still alive. So please, don't blame anyone else but that guy, hm?”

You nod quickly and chew on your lower lip anxiously. “Channie angel?”

“Yeah?” he asks gently.

“Can you tell him I'm sorry? I don't think he wants to see me right now,” you say timidly.

Chan nods and kisses your temple. “I will. We'll fix this, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, relieved.

“I'll go check on him, alright?” he asks, and you nod bravely. Chan grabs a blanket and wraps you up in it, flashing you an encouraging smile. “We'll be okay.”

You timidly grab his hand and search his eyes. “I love you.”

Chan's face softens. “I love you too, baby girl.”

Chan opens the door to the room he uses to work from home, suspecting that's where he'll find Minho. His heart breaks a little as he sees him sitting on the small sofa there, his legs hugged up to his chest. Minho's wearing a sweater of his, burying his face in its sleeves as he takes shaky breaths, clearly trying to calm down. He silently closes the door and walks over, kneeling down in front of him and soothingly rubbing his thighs. “Bunny?” he asks so softly Minho looks up with wide, teary eyes. It's a term reserved for their most private, intimate moments and it never fails to make Minho feel so safe and loved.

He doesn't say anything, body moving on its own as he slips from the sofa and crawls right into his lap. Chan welcomes him with one of his most loving and healing hugs, nuzzling his nose into his hair.

“I love you,” Chan whispers, cradling his head. Minho slumps against him, burying himself into his arms as deeply as he can, growing so small it breaks Chan's heart.

“I'm so tired, Chan,” Minho says, voice raspy from crying. “I'm so fucking tired.”

“I know,” Chan says and turns with him in his hold, leaning against the sofa. “How can I help?”

“There's nothing you can do,” he answers quietly. “She hates me. I fucked up her life.”

“You really think that?” he asks patiently.

“Doesn't matter. She does,” he says.

“Do you?” he asks. “You think you fucked up her life?”

“Apparently, I'm not exactly making it easier,” he answers. “Since I'm the drunken, heartbroken, distracted fuck who got us into that accident.”

Chan mindlessly rubs his lower back. “Apparently…so you don't believe it.”

“I-” Minho grows quiet before pulling back and searching his eyes timidly. “Does that matter if she does?”

“To me, it does,” he nods. “You've been blaming yourself for months, saying the most hurtful shit about yourself…I think you made some progress,” he says calmly.

“Not really,” he shakes his head. “The minute someone throws it at my face, I agree with them.”

“Bunny, can I tell you something?” he asks, and Minho nods tiredly. “She called me the minute you left, saying she fucked up. She asked me to tell you she's sorry because you probably wouldn't want to see her now.”

Minho's eyes fill with tears. “Really?” he asks timidly, and Chan nods. “I really thought she hated me now.”

Chan gently cups his face and plants a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose. “She doesn't, I promise.”

Minho messily wipes his cheeks with the sleeves before stopping in his movement and groaning at himself. “Fuck, I completely messed up your sweater.”

“That's okay,” Chan giggles softly. “We can wash it.”

Minho hums and smiles shyly. “Just really needed you close after that,” he tells him.

“You're so cute,” he smiles happily. “Also-” he gets interrupted by the door opening. The two of them look up and see you standing in the doorframe, shaking with sobs.

Minho moves before Chan can fully comprehend the sight and wraps you into a tight hug. “Shh, honey, it's okay.”

You hug back tightly and shake your head. “Nothing is okay,” you sob. “I hurt you. Just be-because I can't cope with what's happening.”

“It's okay,” Minho whispers gently, caressing your head. “I promise we're okay.”

You timidly grab his sweater a little tighter and bury yourself into him. “I'm sorry, Min. You didn't fuck up anything,” you hiccup. “I love you so much.”

Minho buries his face in your shoulder and shakes his head. “I know,” he whispers and squeezes you gently. “I love you too, my pretty girl.”

“I just wanna feel normal again,” you whimper, and Minho's hold on you tightens.

“Try and give yourself some credit, honey. You went through some shit, and you're still dealing with the aftermath,” he says softly and kisses your hair. “Try being a little more patient with yourself.”

Chan smiles sadly, remembering himself saying something so similar to Minho only weeks ago when they went for a walk. So he did listen.

Two weeks later

You anxiously meet your reflection in the mirror before staring down at your products on the sink. Chan said he'd take you both out to dinner, and you just wanted to look nice but you had trouble remembering your routines. You talked to your doctor about it, and she told you it's completely normal to get confused easily by those things at the moment.

Minho walks into the bathroom, buttoning up his shirt, and flashes you a gentle smile. “You're alright, beautiful?”

“Yeah,” you nod quickly and stare back down at your things. “I…I think I need help,” you tell him, glancing up at him as he fixes his hair.

“Sure, what do you need?” he asks, not quite picking up on your struggle yet. Minho grabs your concealer and carefully hides the dark patches beneath his eyes. He's still not sleeping well, and it shows.

“I uh, I forgot what I usually do,” you tell him, waving at the various items displayed at the sink. “Like…did I have some sort of routine? Because if I did it's nonexistent in my brain right now.”

“Oh,” he nods and puts your concealer back down. “Uh, I'm not sure, but I can still help,” he tells you, and you smile relieved. “One second,” he winks at you and leaves the room, coming back with a chair. “Alright, take a seat, honey.”

You giggle softly and do as you're told. Chan joins you, chuckling in confusion as he sees you. “Min's helping me, my brain is letting me down right now.”

“Oh,” he laughs and watches Minho grab some of your things. “Yeah, it's good you asked him and not me.”

“I had a feeling,” you tease him lovingly.

Chan chuckles and turns back to the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He fixes his hair that frames his face in those beautiful curls you love so much and you can see the frown forming on his face before it’s fully there. It’s beyond you how both of your husbands were this stunningly pretty and still had their trouble believing so, Chan much more than Min. “Channie?” you ask gently, and he hums in response. “You look very handsome.”

Chan meets your eyes through the mirror, face softening. “Thank you, baby girl,” he says with a sweet, shy smile. Minho turns around, taking in the sight of his husband, and hums agreeingly before slapping his bum. Chan snorts and fondly rolls his eyes. “Typical.”

“That’s your own fault wearing those trousers,” he smirks before getting started with helping you. “Who even allowed you to leave the house in those, huh? Surely not me. No one else should be allowed to see how well-.”

“Minho,” Chan whines in protest, blushing heavily. “Shut up, will you?”

Minho smiles softly and then you realize he must’ve noticed Chan’s insecurities getting the better of him as well. “Only because it’s you,” he tells him fondly. “So, I think you started like this,” he tells you. He talks you through it, checking in with you if what he’s doing makes sense, and tries his best to make you satisfied with the result. Only a little later you’re ready to go and thank him happily. “Always, princess,” he assures you kindly. “You need help with your hair as well?”

“No, thank you, darling,” you smile at him. “I’ll be done in a bit.”

“No rush, honey,” he tells you and kisses your cheek before leaving you some space. He joins Chan downstairs, who’s standing at the kitchen island, bent forward on his elbows as he checks his phone. Minho smiles at the sight and steps behind him, wrapping his arms around him. Chan gently intertwines their hands on his stomach and finishes his message to Lix with one hand. “You’re alright, kitten?”

“Yeah,” he nods and nuzzles his face into his neck. “Ah, you put on my favorite cologne,” he smirks, burying his nose deeper into his skin.

Chan hums, agreeing, and turns off his phone, turning in his hold. He smiles as their eyes meet and gently nudges his nose with his own. “Pretty boy,” he whispers, and Minho blushes softly. “I miss you.”

“Miss me?” Minho frowns gently. “I’m right here, love.”

“No..like,” he leaves the sentence unfinished, gently squeezing Minho’s hips.

“Oh,” Minho laughs brightly and kisses him sweetly. “I can stop by the company tomorrow, just make sure Sungie and Binnie aren’t around.”

“I think I can arrange that,” Chan chuckles, gently cupping his face.

“Don’t start anything you can’t finish now,” Minho warns him, and Chan rolls his eyes, kissing him lovingly. Minho kisses back sweetly and pulls back soon, knowing Chan could get lost in kissing way too quickly. They really didn’t have time for this now. Not with you coming downstairs any minute, still finding your way back into your marriage. “Channie…is that place you picked in walking distance?” he asks.

“I figured there’s a chance she doesn’t feel safe to drive yet, so yes,” he nods, and Minho hums, relieved. “Also, you aren’t exactly keen to sit in a car yet, either.”

“Not really,” he chuckles agreeingly. “Thank you, Channie.”

“For what?” he frowns softly.

“For being so considerate and caring,” he smiles, shaking his head as Chan is about to respond. “Don’t you dare say it’s nothing now, I will kick you.”

“Oh,” Chan nods, holding back a laugh.

“Idiot,” he giggles fondly, poking his side.

“I’m ready,” you interrupt them gently, standing a little away from them.

Chan smiles at you sweetly. “You look beautiful, baby girl,” he tells you, and you mirror his smile.

“Our beautiful girl,” Minho agrees proudly, taking your hand and pulling you closer. “We should probably leave, right?”

Chan checks his watch. “Yeah, we should.”

You swallow softly and glance at them timidly. “Can I sit in the back?” you ask.

“I thought we could take a walk, it’s close by. If we’re lucky, we can see the stars on our way back home,” he says, watching your eyes brim with tears. “Or we can take the car?” he asks nervously.

“No,” you shake your head and laugh weakly. “I would prefer walking,” you assure him. “Thank you, Channie angel.”

“God, you two sometimes,” he breathes out, squeezing Min’s and your hand. “It’s nothing, really an-ey!” he breaks off in protest as Minho punches his shoulder.

“I told you, it’s not nothing. It means a lot, my love, and we’re very happy to have you,” he says. “Also, be glad I didn’t kick your pretty a-.”

“Okay,” Chan laughs and pulls you both with him. “Enough of this now, you’ll make me get all sappy, let’s go.”

You enjoy your first evening out immensely. It makes you feel less like something’s wrong with you. Both Chan and Minho focus mostly on you, making sure you’re alright and comfortable. The many smells and loud noises are overwhelming at first, and they try their best to distract you. Once you allow yourself to relax, things get easier. Dinner is delicious, but what truly makes your evening is the laughter, gentle touches, and the way they make sure you’re part of the conversation.

On your walk home, you indeed see the stars painting the dark canvas of the night sky. You’re walking between them, holding onto their hands, and feel a lot closer to Chan as well. Minho occasionally points out constellations, sometimes playfully bickering with Chan about the correct name. You find yourself smiling, genuinely smiling, for the first time in a while. You think about your day and suddenly stop in your tracks, leading to your husbands turning in confusion.

“Y/nnie?” Chan frowns as your eyes fill with tears. “Are you okay?”

“I remember that place,” you breathe out, and they both stare at you with wide eyes. “We had dinner there the week we moved in, didn’t we? Channie, you spilled your drink all over Min’s pants. Min, you wouldn’t stop cursing because it got all sticky and-” you break off in wonder as your mind forms such vivid pictures of that day.

Minho laughs wetly, a hot tear falling down his face. “Yeah, yeah, that’s exactly what happened.”

Chan still stares at you in wonder before laughing weakly. “You remember?”

You nod happily, messily wiping your cheeks. “Yeah, I know that’s not much, but-.”

“No, baby, this is huge,” Chan smiles through tears, wrapping you into a tight hug. “That’s your first breakthrough after only three weeks, baby.”

You giggle happily and beam at Minho, who’s still frozen in place. Reaching out for him, he takes your hand and lets you pull him into your hug. Minho cups your cheek and kisses your forehead softly. “I’m so happy for you,” he tells you genuinely.

Back home, as you prepare for bed, the weight of the day slowly settles on your shoulders. For the first time since you got back home it doesn’t feel like the burden of another wasted day but a blanket of comfort. It reminds you of the love and care that surrounds you in the presence of your husbands. Minho brushes your hair as Chan takes off your makeup for you, both as gentle as they can get.

As you lay in bed between them, the events of the past few weeks replay in your mind. The argument with Minho feels like a very distant memory now, simply a hurdle you’ve all overcome together. His forgiveness, his understanding, and his undying love for you feel like a balm for your wounded, anxious heart. Chan’s patience, kindness, and unwavering support for the two of you remind you of the strength of your bond.

In the quiet of the night, with Chan’s steady breathing on one side and Minho’s warm presence on the other, you feel a sense of peace lull you in. The road to your recovery would still be a long one, and you weren’t naive enough to believe that there wouldn’t be any more challenges.

You whisper a quiet “I love you” into the darkness, and in the soft murmur of their responses, you find a promise—a promise of healing and a love that will never leave you. You don’t know why, but right here, you understand that no matter what comes your way, you’ll face it together as a family. With that thought, you drift into a peaceful sleep, knowing that with Chan and Minho by your side, you’ll be okay. You would talk to Chan about the distance you feel another day, and you’d work through your shared trauma with Minho another time, supporting him through his share of the deal as well. For today, you’re glad to be able to fall asleep between the loves of your life.

PART FIVE | PART SEVEN

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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vettelsvee · 1 month

Text

YOU WROTE A SONG ABOUT ME? | Oscar Piastri

f1 one shots masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

oscar piastri x singer!reader

requested by anon: x singer!reader, maybe Oscar and his family going to her show and she sings a song about him

word count: 2402

warnings: none of them! use of y/n and y/l/n

posible part 2 if you like it and ask for it!

you can send your one shots requests here!

Oscar was nervous. Very, in fact.

It wasn't the first time he attended a concert of Y/N, his girlfriend, but every time he did he ended up getting more nervous than he should.

Perhaps the fact that today was his twenty-third birthday and he hadn't received any kind of congratulations from her had a lot to do with it.

The Australian took a deep breath and continued on, trying to catch up with his sisters and parents as quickly as possible, who had barely noticed that the boy had fallen behind, immersed in his thoughts.

Nicole quickly turned around, going to where her son was as calmly as she could, and above all making sure not to do or say anything she would regret, especially not something that would ruin the surprise her daughter-in-law had been keeping so well.

"What's wrong, honey?"

Oscar slightly startled as he felt his mother's hand on his shoulder, even letting out a small scream that startled the woman.

"Yes, of course!" the boy hurried to say, trying to calm down. "Just... I'm a little nervous, but that's all, really."

Despite the Australian's efforts to sound as calm as possible, it was in vain. Nicole could see his anxiety in his gaze and, above all, in his gestures. His hands were barely still, and every time she tried to walk beside him, he ended up putting a little more distance between them.

"I'm your mother, Oscar, you know I can catch any lie like I've done so many times before. Why are you so nervous?"

He sighed. He didn't want to share his concern, especially when they were heading to see the main reason of it.

"Well..." he tried to find the right words, finding it quite difficult. "It's just that I haven't received any message from Y/N today. Today, of all days, you know? On my birthday."

"Oh, what a shame..." the woman replied, feigning surprise. "She must have forgotten or had some problem. Have you talked to her?"

Was she really asking him that? He just told her he hadn't received any message from the brunette...

"Yes, but she hasn't replied."

"Don't worry! I'm sure there's a reason for it," assured the Piastri matriarch. "Don't let this ruin your day. If that girl doesn't call you as soon as it strikes twelve, I promise she'll have to deal with me."

"Mom..."

"No mom, Oscar," she scolded him in an ironic tone, making him laugh. "Now try to enjoy her concert and have a good time with us, okay?"

The brown-haired young man nodded, grateful for his mother's support, and continued on his way to the Rod Laver Arena, now a bit happier than before.

After passing through security checks and receiving the VIP accreditations reserved for the Piastri family, and the occasional stops for the pilot to take some photos and sign autographs with fans who recognized him, which were quite a few, they made their way to their reserved spot, located in the lower side stands just a few meters from the main stage.

"Wow, I didn't know you were so famous to have so many people following you," joked his father, making his sisters laugh.

"You should take a break!" shouted his mother, hugging him and making his cheeks turn red. "You're at your girlfriend's concert, not at one of your stupid races."

"They're the ones who make me who I am, Mom. Besides, I'm a public figure," added the brown-eyed one. "I can't ignore them and act like nothing, you know? It's not that easy."

Oscar said that, but he still felt uneasy. As he looked at his family, already occupying their seats as there was still about half an hour before the concert started, the need to see his girlfriend or at least hear some news about her was taking over him more and more.

"Mom, I'm going to see if I can find out anything about Y/N," he said impulsively, interrupting himself with his own words. "I'll be right back."

Nicole looked at him with surprise, telling him no, to wait there, and they would see what to do after the concert. But the young man had already gained some momentum and was navigating through everyone in his way around the stands, seats, stairs, and multiple corridors until he reached the place where, supposedly, his girl was.

Once he reached the supposed dressing room, a perfectly uniformed black security guard, with a completely serious expression and crossed arms, stood in front of the door.

"Um... I'm Oscar," he greeted with a wave, trying to curve his lips without trembling. "I'm Y/N’s boyfriend," he timidly pointed to the door behind him with his hand. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Piastri, but Y/N has agreed that there are no visitors before the concert today," the man responded firmly, still looking at Oscar seriously and shaking his head.

"It's just a moment. I want to wish her good luck before she goes on stage," he insisted, hoping the guard might make an exception.

"I'm sorry, sir. Rules are rules, and if the young lady said no, then it's no. I can't make any exceptions, even for you."

The Australian thanked the unfriendly man with a slight nod and, feeling defeated, made his way back to where his family was. As soon as he arrived, he had his sisters pestering him:

"Did you see Y/N? Did she say anything to you? Did she leave you wanting something, and that's why you look so depressed now?"

The eldest sister's insistence was making him feel even worse than he already did; having the other two join in the sudden conversation with curious faces and even more unsettling questions made him want to leave the place.

The young man simply remained silent. He sat in his seat and kept his gaze fixed on the stage, waiting for the lights to go out and the concert to begin.

It was a matter of the singer stepping onto the stage for the crowd to rise to their feet, applauding and chanting her name, shouting compliments and praises of all kinds.

"Good evening, Melbourne!" exclaimed Y/N, who was on a platform that had risen from the bottom of the stage. "I hope you all have a great time with me tonight because I assure you that today will be full of surprises!"

Nicole Piastri got up from her seat, as did the rest of the family, and told Oscar to do the same. He refused, remaining seated with his arms crossed, but unable to stop a smile from appearing on his lips.

He might be upset with his girlfriend's behavior for who knows what reason, but it was impossible for him not to look away from her while she danced, sang, and interacted with the audience.

It was too difficult for him not to feel proud of her and everything she had achieved.

The show continued as Oscar knew it would, having memorized it from the numerous times he had not only attended various concerts of his girlfriend's tour around the world but also from the countless rehearsals he had accompanied her to.

However, Piastri did not expect that suddenly the lights would go out and an orange glow would begin to emerge everywhere, especially illuminating the stage.

Y/N appeared again, now wearing an orange bodysuit with perfectly placed blue tones that accentuated her figure.

"Do you know what day’s today?" asked the brunette, looking with wide eyes at the audience.

"April 6th!"

She nodded, a playful smile forming on her lips more and more as she was about to reveal, and trying not to turn her head towards where her boyfriend was, whom she had deliberately avoided all day and who, possibly, would tell her to screw off after all the ghosting she had done to him on his birthday.

"And, by any chance... do you know what happens today?"

There were a variety of responses. A large part of them answered that it was Oscar's birthday, her partner's. Others were somewhat wild, as if she was about to reveal that the couple was expecting a baby, or that the young woman was going to announce her retirement from the stage after her very short musical career.

"No, it's none of that," the Australian ended up saying. "I am pleased to announce that today, here, right now, I am going to debut my new single, 'Throttle Hearts'!"

The stadium erupted in cheers and applause once again. No one, not even Oscar, expected this revelation from the girl, so it was completely normal for people to ask her to sing the song already.

Y/N, however, asked them for a moment with her hand.

Quickly, she ran to her cell phone and, secluded in a small corner of the stage, tried to make sure that the camera recording to broadcast her image on the large screens captured nothing.

At that very moment, Oscar's phone vibrated in his pocket with a notification from the same girl who was on stage:

"Happy birthday, my love! I'm so sorry for ghosting you all day, but I hope it was worth it. If you understand any references in the song, it's normal bc it's based on our story. I hope this is the best gift you can receive, at least for now, in your life. I can't wait to get off stage and give you the biggest hug in the world <3"

And there was Y/N, making eye contact with him, having a minimal interaction with her boyfriend for the first time all day. The girl had her arm raised, waving enthusiastically and making heart gestures with both hands that ended sooner than expected as she went to the piano to play the first chords of the song.

Oscar found himself trying to hide some tears, which were forming in his eyes not only as Y/N’s voice adjusted to the melody but throughout the rest of the concert.

The only thing the boy could reply to that message was whether she had really written a song about him, receiving as a response during a break between songs a large number of heart shaped emojis.

When the show came to an end and the singer disappeared beneath the stage, the Piastri family quickly grabbed their belongings to leave the venue and go to where the boy's girlfriend was. The same security guard who had previously denied him access to see the singer to the Formula 1 driver was now standing next to them, telling them to follow him.

Obviously, they didn't hesitate to say yes and followed his steps to the young woman's dressing room, who allowed her boyfriend's family to enter, welcoming them with a radiant smile and hugs that had been delayed all day.

The only thing the young couple did as words were exchanged was to look at each other, shy to show their love in front of others, as it had always been with them.

"I think we should leave the lovebirds alone for a while," Nicole began as she headed towards the exit of the room. "Don't take too long, the reservation for dinner at Oscar's favorite restaurant is at ten fifteen, and you know we take quite a while to get there."

Both of them thanked her shyly, unsure of what to do or say beyond being unable to stop smiling.

When they were alone, facing each other, they didn't know what they should say to each other. Oscar Piastri didn't know if he should reproach his girlfriend for not speaking to him all day despite preparing a surprise for him. Y/N Y/L/N was aware that perhaps she should apologize for not having done things quite right and for keeping the brown-haired boy on edge by maintaining some sort of no-contact for the past 24 hours.

Finally, it was the McLaren driver who broke the not-so-uncomfortable silence:

"Y/N, that song..." He was at a loss for words. He didn't know what else to say other than that he had loved it.

The girl smiled shyly, grateful not only that he had liked the composition she had kept to herself for the past seven months, but also for seeming to have understood.

"I've been wanting to sing it to you for a long time, but I didn't know if you’d like it," the young woman admitted. "It has had a couple of important modifications since the first draft, and since the record label wasn't cooperating much when I wanted to release it initially, I thought it would be a good birthday gift for you," she explained. "Hey, and I'm sorry if this whole game of ignoring you all day has offended you. I feel really bad, and the last thing I want is..."

"Shut up, silly!" Oscar interrupted her, approaching her to wrap her in his arm and give her a tender kiss on the forehead. "At first, I thought you wanted to break up with me, but then seeing how my mom was acting, that gorilla you have as a bodyguard denying me access, and above all you ignoring me all day..."

"I'm good at keeping secrets, and I'm absolutely in love with you, Oscar Piastri," Y/N declared, mock-offended. "Do you really think I would ignore you all day?"

"Not a chance. I know there's a good intention behind everything you do," agreed the Australian, earning himself a hug and a kiss on the lips from his girlfriend. "Did you know that I'm also good at keeping secrets?"

"Oh, really? And are you absolutely in love with me like I am with you, Piastri?"

Oscar grinned mischievously, an idea starting to appear in his mind like a flash that was making more and more sense.

Obviously, the driver was a tad resentful, and the girl wasn't going to get away with it no matter how good the intention was behind Throttle Hearts and its surprise presentation.

Now, Oscar had to prepare a surprise for the girl's twenty-second birthday that would match, or even surpass, the one she had prepared for him.

"I don't know," he shrugged, laughing more and more emphatically and perhaps frustrating his girlfriend, "I guess now you'll have to wait for your birthday to find out."

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri one shot #request #anon #requests open #oscar piastri x yn #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x singer reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri one shots #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 one shots #formula 1 x reader

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theres-a-body-here · 7 months

Text

Scumtober- Day 9 (Monsterfucking)

The Demogorgon x Reader

Sequel post

The Demogorgon was acting strange.

.......

Stranger than usual.

It seemed to be actively avoiding you in trials. This made you.... Well, you weren't sure how to feel about the situation. On one hand, it means one less killer to worry about in trials. On the other hand, you really miss him.

He wasn't like this before. You two had a "healthy" trial relationship. He tried his best to kill you, and you tried your best to escape. However, unlike most killers, you sometimes gave him treats and pets. He returned the favor by taking the longest paths to a hook or even "accidentally" picking you up under a pallet when he knew your teammate was nearby.

You don't know what happened. And you were hellbent on figuring it out.

Strange(r) things were happening

You wait for your next trial with him. You wonder if you are going to get any grief for this since you casually let your teammates die. But now you can have some alone time with Demo and get this mess sorted out.

You slowly explore the trial grounds, listening for any sounds that could indicate his location.

It takes a while, but you eventually find the Demogorgon hunched within one of the "jungle gyms". You step forward and wince as you step on a twig. The Demogorgon snaps its head towards you. He seems ready to bolt.

"Hey......it's me," You whisper as you get closer. You knew he could recognize you, but you didn't want him to run off and hide. At the sound of your voice, the Demogorgon seems to relax slightly, though it doesn't fully let down its guard.

You slowly step closer. "You've been avoiding me, Demo," You mention softly as you get right in front of him.

Demo whines softly, his head facing downwards as he shuffles his feet awkwardly. His petal-like flaps open and close weakly, almost like he's ashamed. He then begins to drool as it dribbles onto the ground.

You aren't sure what's happening. You look at the Demogorgon as he drools a lot. Like a lot. Come to think of it. It seems....wetter? Wait no, it seems more liquidy than his usual slobber.

If you didn't know any better, you'd probab- OH SHIT HES CRYING!

Your panic is instant. "No, no! I am sorry! Please don't cry!" You reach out tentatively, hesitant despite your desire to comfort him.

You pet him gently in hopes of soothing him. You can feel him trembling. You feel terrible.

After a while Demo seemed to have stopped crying. You gently nudge him so he can sit against the wall. You sit next to him. There's silence as you think of anything to say.

"I'm not mad," you whisper as you pat his head. "I just want to know why you've been ignoring me".

Demo's petals scrunch inwards as if thinking. He raises his head and looks around. He then weakly raises his claw to vaguely point in the direction where Ace was moried. Now that you have time to think, you've noticed how vicious and brutal Demogorgon has been towards Ace these past few months.

"Ace?" You mumble to yourself as you try to recall any instance involving Ace and Demogorgon. And then the realization hit you harder than The Oni's Kanabo. You didn't think that would be the cause.

Demogorgon caught you and Ace making out during a trial.

It was right before Demo started to avoid you. Honestly, it was out of impulse. You were tired of getting off to the porno mags you snatched out of the Legion's realm. You probably should have waited until the trial was over, but you were horny and Ace was.....there. It was a moment of weakness.

You should have put two and two together. You felt dumb. You facepalm and you groan.

Demogorgon was jealous.

You clear your throat awkwardly. You had to set the record straight. You couldn't let Demo think you had the hots for the gambler.

"Me and Ace aren't together," You slowly, hoping Demo understands human relationships.

At your words, Demo's expression shifts from relief to confusion. Well, at least you think so. His flaps went from scratched to relaxed. He tilts his head curiously, seemingly waiting for further explanation.

"Well, um... we were just messing around. Nothing serious," you clarify hastily, waving your hands dismissively. "We both kinda got carried away in the heat of the moment."

Demo processes this information silently for a few moments before seeming to accept it. He relaxes slightly, lowering his head to lay it on your lap. You let out a sigh of relief. The misunderstanding has been rectified.

As you continue to pet Demogorgon's head, you notice him start to sniff around your crotch area. You freeze, unsure of how to react. Is he sensing something? Does he need help? Before you can figure out what's going on, he suddenly licks your inner thigh, causing you to jump in surprise.

"What the hell, Demo?" You exclaim, pushing him away playfully. Your heart races as you try to regain composure. Despite the unexpected move, there's also a hint of curiosity stirring inside you. What could possibly have caused such a reaction from him?

As you ponder over Demo's sudden behavior, you begin to wonder if he's attempting to make a move on you now that he's confirmed you're single. The thought sends a wave of mixed feelings coursing through your veins; part of you feels flattered, while another part is taken aback by the idea of getting intimate with a creature like him.

And another small part of you is a freaky bitch who grew up with unsupervised access to the internet.

With slow deliberate movements, you unbutton your pants. Demo watches with curiosity as his flaps wiggle softly in what you could guess is anticipation. You decide to skip the foreplay and remove your pants along with your panties. You shiver as the cold air of the realm makes contact with your cunt.

As you expose yourself to Demo, he takes in the sight before him. His petals open slightly as he sniffs at your exposed folds, taking in your unique scent. Without warning, his petal flaps open wide and envelop your entire pelvic region. You're startled for only a second before you relax into the sensation.

Demogorgon's clawed hands wrapped gently around your thighs as he opened them up even more, his cold flesh brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Ahh..." You moan softly, arching your back in response to the stimulation. You can feel every inch of his flaps' insides licking your lower body. It was strange.

His slimy tongue bathes your swollen folds, teasing and stimulating every sensitive spot. You arch your back, moaning softly as you surrender to the sensations coursing through your body.

Despite the primal urges pulling you deeper into the encounter, a small part of you remains aware of the absurdity of the situation. Here you are, having sex with a creature from another dimension, all while wondering if your friends think you're having the longest chase ever.

Suddenly, Demo pulls away. You whine as you wonder why. Your eyes widen as you spot the reason. Demo has a slit. You never really noticed it before, but it seems swollen due to his arousal.

As Demo's member starts to emerge from his slit, you can't help but stare in amazement. The organ is unlike anything you've ever seen before – elongated and serpentine, almost alien in appearance. It writhes and squirms as though alive, dripping viscous fluid onto the floor.

Eagerly, you position yourself accordingly. Leaning back against the wall, you spread your legs wider to give him better access.

As Demo positions himself between your legs, his elongated member pressing against your opening, you brace yourself for what comes next. The anticipation builds within you as he rears back and thrusts forward, impaling nothing but air. Still, despite the lack of actual penetration, the animalistic nature of his movements makes you whimper.

You find yourself matching his rhythm, rocking your hips upwards to rub your swollen pussy against his length. You moan loudly, unable to contain yourself any longer. Your fingers dig into Demo's smooth grey skin, drawing lines of red across his shoulder blades.

Your breath hitches as you feel the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance once more. With a final forceful push, he breaks through your barrier, filling you completely. You cry out in ecstasy, the feeling of being stretched beyond capacity combined with the intense pressure building inside you too much to bear.

As Demo begins his rapid thrusts, you find yourself caught in a confusing mix of pleasure and discomfort. Each time he plunges into you, he manages to penetrate only a couple of inches before pulling out again. The inconsistency adds an unexpected element to the experience, leaving you both exhilarated and frustrated.

As Demo finds his rhythm again, you feel him sink deeper into you with each thrust. He holds this angle steadily, allowing your body to adjust gradually to the size and shape of his member. The feeling of fullness grows stronger with each passing moment, reaching new levels of intensity. But then he suddenly stops and pulls his cock out until his tip is pressing against your entrance.

At Demo's unexpected stop, you tense instinctively, preparing for whatever comes next. Just when you think he's about to fully pull out, he slams his hips forward violently, driving his massive member deep into your core as it completely disappears into your pussy. The sheer force behind the motion causes you to gasp in pain and surprise, followed quickly by a rush of pleasure as he fills you completely.

To your confusion, he's deathly still. You whimper as you try to move a bit, but his hands are still gripping your hips, keeping you in place. Demo seems like he's in a trance. Like he's taking in the feeling of his entire cock deep within your pretty cvnt.

Without warning, Demo pulls you inwards and moves into a position you've seen in porn. You think it's called the mating press. It seems fitting.

When he finally begins to thrust, there's no denying the incredible power behind each stroke. His extradimensional dick stretches and fills you entirely, hitting every sensitive spot along the way.

You cry out in delight as he picks up speed, driving deeper and harder into your wet heat. The sensation is overwhelming, bordering on painful – but in a good way. Every muscle in your body tightens involuntarily, holding you together as Demo takes complete control.

As Demo continues his relentless pace, you feel him hitting your cervix with increasing frequency. The sensation is intense, causing waves of pleasure mixed with just enough pain to keep you on edge.

"S-Slow down......Demo," you plead between gasps for air. But Demo seems oblivious to your words. In fact, he's been staring at the brick wall in front of him and you could see he's starting to drool. It's clear that his sole purpose right now is to fuck his cum into you.

As Demo's cock begins pounding at your cervix like an angry Avon lady, you think about how you'll be out of commission for a couple of days.

Despite the increasing discomfort, you cannot help but revel in the sense of being claimed so thoroughly. Moaning softly, you reach between your bodies and begin rubbing your clit, hoping to lessen the pain using pleasure.

As Demo nears climax, you watch in anticipation as his digits dig deeper into the ground, clawing furrows into the soil beneath them. The sight alone sends fresh waves of arousal coursing through your veins.

As he reaches the peak of his climax, Demo lets out a shriek-like roar. You feel his member pulsing inside you, forcing hot streams of cum deep into your womb. Your body convulses uncontrollably, milking his cock as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you as you reach orgasm as well.

After Demo's explosive release, he collapses onto you, his weight pinning you to the ground. Despite the initial discomfort, you can't help but smile at the sight of him clinging to you like a needy pup. You close your eyes as you cuddle up to him, absentmindedly wondering if the Entity has any Plan B.

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dbd #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #scumtober 2023 #scumtober #the demogorgon #Demogorgon x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #monster fucker #teratophillia

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grandlinedreams · 7 months

Note

Hii I just found out about your blog today! I really like your writing 🤭 Can I request a straw hat reader and law trying to keep their relationship a secret but they failed. Then the reaction from both crews! Thank you!

Hi bb!! Thank-you, I'm honored!! 🥺💖 but oh absolutely!! I hope this is to your liking, bb! (Ig this is a little non-canon? indeterminate setting)

Palm up, you stare at the little square of white that inches across your skin at a steady pace. There are limits to vivre cards, you know that ㅡ but you can't help but silently will everything involved to move faster.

"You're not sneaky, you know." You whirl, finding Nami leaning against the doorway with an amused look on her face, arms folded across her chest.

"I don't know what you mean," you say warily, mentally kicking yourself for pulling the paper out without making sure you wouldn't be spotted with it, even as your fingers close around it protectively.

Nami's head tilts. "That secret candy stash," she says, "you're not very good at hiding it. You're just lucky that Luffy hasn't figured out where to look yet."

"Oh," you answer, trying not to sound too relieved that she doesn't mean the vivre card you've been watching for the last ten minutes. "Right. I'll have to move it around, then."

Nami studies you silently for a moment in which you're almost certain she knows, but then she pulls from the doorway with a sigh. "We're supposed to be meeting up with the Heart Pirates, so you might want to come out and join us before Luffy figures that something is up."

"Right behind you," you answer, waiting until she turns to put the vivre card away and moving to follow. Outside, you're just in time to watch the swell of waves break, exposing gleaming yellow metal.

"There they are!" Luffy crows excitedly from where he's perched atop his usual seat, waving to the Polar Tang despite the fact that nobody can see him yet.

"Remind me why we're still letting them hang around?" Zoro asks and you turn towards him, though Robin answers for you.

"Because it's important to keep good relations with our allies." She glances towards you. "You agree, don't you?"

You swear there's something in her gaze, a glint of amusement that runs deeper than watching you fumble to agree.

"Whatever," huffs Zoro. "Still think that guy's full of himself."

You bite your tongue, waiting until you're certain you won't say something you regret. "Luffy is our Captain, Zoro. If he trusts them, then we should too."

You feel a lot more than trust towards Trafalgar Law. But though it's gotten easier to keep those feelings under lock and key, it's still hard to not want to bounce forward and fling your arms around him the way Luffy does.

"Traffy!! Good to see you!"

"I've told you to stop calling me that, Strawhat," Law grouses, struggling to free himself from the rubber man's grip. "And get off me!"

Luffy seems far from upset by Law's greeting, cheerful grin still wide and bright as he lets go to offer the same greeting to Bepo, just a few feet behind his Captain.

You pretend not to notice when Law glances at you, your own attention pointedly fixed on some obscure point until you can't feel the weight of his gaze anymore. Only then do you lett yourself look back at him, fingers twitching at the memory of his vivre card on your palm.

ㅡ

Luffy's plan for the ally rendezvous ends up being to anchor both the Sunny and the Polar Tang at the back coast of a nearby island with the intent to keep either crew from being spotted and recognized. (It's more Law's idea, but all he does is roll his eyes when Luffy repeats it with much more enthusiasm.)

After that it's a blur of cooking food in the kitchen, platters laden down with piles of food and lowered down onto the beach, where a bonfire (small and carefully contained) is going at Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper's request.

"Is there a reason you're avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you," you say from where you're picking up dry kindling for the bonfire. "Didn't we agree not to tell either of our crews we're together?"

"True," Law agrees as he approaches, "but I hardly think pretending that I don't exist at all is going to work either. They'll think you hate me."

"I think Zoro has that covered," you mumble. "But you know I don't hate you, Law."

"I do?" There's a hint of amusement in his tone, smirk tugging at his lips. He's teasing you, the jerk. "Could have fooled me."

You roll your eyes. "What if you're the one who hates me? Hm?"

He approaches, the height difference all the clearer for how he seems to tower over you, even as he leans down. "Hate is the furthest word from how I feel about you."

You've only shared a handful of kisses with Law and each time, you've been the one to initiate them. Perhaps a testament to how he's missed you, Law leans in, lips pressing against yours.

Your eyes close, and you're tempted to drop the bundle of wood in your hands in favor of curling them into his shirt ㅡ only to break apart at the same time as Law at the sound of your Captain's voice in tandem with Bepo's.

"Hey Traffy!! Where'd you go?"

"Captain? Captain!"

Law sighs. "So much for that," he says, pulling away from you completely and turning back in the direction that he'd come from. "Don't take too long coming back either, or they'll think you got eaten by a Sea King."

Watching his back, it's only then that you realize he's somehow eased the bundle of sticks from your grip and walked away with it ㅡ effectively leaving you with zero reason as to why you'd left in the first place.

"Jerk," you mutter, but you're smiling, bringing a hand up to trace your lips and the lingering warmth.

ㅡ

Sunset is a milky blend of reds and oranges, vibrant against the deep blue of the sea, inciting a deeper sense of contentment that makes you dig your feet into the sunwarmed sand.

"Comfortable?" Law seats himself beside you without preamble, the brush of his arm against yours intentional. You debate for a moment before you lean against him, gaze flicking upward to watch his lips curve into a softer smile when you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I am now," you mumble, let your eyes drift shut as you try to commit this to memory. "I wish we saw each other more."

There's a deeper meaning to it, a wholly selfish want for something more stable than what you have ㅡ going months at a time without sreing each other, vivre cards the only way of guaranteed safety. (It isn't safety, not really. Just the reassurance that the other is still alive.)

"I know." Law answers. "...every time I hear about whatever stunt you lot have pulled, I check your vivre card." Another deeper meaning, vulnerability where he usually can't afford it. "We could tell them, you know."

You snort. "Tell them what? 'Sorry, we've been dating behind your back for the last two years?'"

"You're dating Traffy?"

You feel Law tense under your head at Luffy's voice, and you turn to find him staring at the two of you.

Shit.

"Luffy, I, uhㅡ"

"Yes," Law cuts in, "we are." It startles you, how freely he's admitting to it now when he's the one who wanted to be so damn careful about it.

"Oh," Luffy says. And then he grins. "That's so cool! I mean, as long as you're not gonna steal [Name] and make them join you all the time."

You wonder if somewhere down the line, you've hit your head and entered a different dimension. Surely you have, for Law to be so blasé in admitting to your relationship and Luffy ㅡ well, that's on par for him.

Luffy takes it a step further, however, turning and cupping his hands around his mouth. "You guys!! Did you know Traffy and [Name] were dating?"

You flinch, Law's expression unreadable as there's an answering call ㅡ Shachi.

"No offense Captain, but we figured it out last year!"

"I thought they seemed awful chummy! Congrats, you two!" Nami.

And then Luffy is bounding off back to the others, and your shoulders slump. "Well, that was a lot of worry for nothing," you lament, though you reach for Law's hand, lacing your fingers before you stand, tugging him to his feet. "Come on, boyfriend. We have some explaining to do."

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous #–ml: law.

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cradle-quill · 1 month

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Forever - AB/DL Story by CradleQuill

This content is intended for consenting adults aged 18 and older. All characters depicted within this material are fictional and at least 18 years of age. _

I'm done letting you fool yourself. I mean, who are we kidding? We both know you can't keep your pants dry. You wake up in soaked sheets most mornings, and now you're having your little "accidents" during the day as well. Whatever semblance of an adult life you once had, it's quickly on its way out.

Soon enough, you won't even recognize your old life. You'll just be my little baby, ready to accept your place. You'll be beneath me, just where you belong. I mean, who would respect an "adult" who can't even make it to the potty on time? That's right, I don't consider you an adult. You're nothing more than an overgrown baby who's failed at potty training and who needs to be reminded who's in charge.

That's right, kiddo. No more big kid underwear for you. In fact, I think we should throw all your undies away. Or maybe I'll even cut them up while I make you watch. You won't be needing them anymore, after all. We might as well make use of them. I can use them as rags to clean you up during diaper changes.

Yes, that's right. I'm putting you back in diapers, full time. I don't want to hear any more fussing, I won't tolerate it. Keep it up and you'll find yourself over my knee with a very red bottom. Little babies who can't stop wetting themselves need diapers, and that's just what you are, isn't it? A little baby.

Go ahead. Admit it. You want me to treat you this way. You get off on it. And the more I mock and humiliate you, the tighter my grip on you will become. Because you crave this. You need it. You need to be dominated completely—mind, body, and soul. That's what you really want, deep down.

Did you think I didn't realize it? That I couldn't tell, just from looking at you, what a pathetic baby you are? I mean, honestly, I don't know how everyone else around you doesn't see it. The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you'd end up like this. I knew you'd be on your knees at my feet, begging me not to tear you down and make you even more pathetic than you already are.

But it's too late, honey. This is your life now. And there's no going back. Maybe at one point you could have undone all this, salvaged what little adulthood that was left, but I'm not letting that happen. I'm going to see that you are treated exactly as you ought to be, like a helpless little infant who can't do anything for themselves.

There will be no more big kid potty. No more "adult" activities. And don't think I'm letting you hide this from your friends. Everyone is going to know what I've reduced you to, and how much you like it. Anyone who wants to play with the baby is going to get a chance to, whether that means your friends or mine. I'm sure they'd all love to see what you've become, what you've always really been.

I can see those tears welling in your eyes. The red-hot embarrassment on your cheeks. Better get used to it, baby. There will be a lot of this in your future. I mean, you might as well wet yourself right now, sitting there on the floor. It's going to happen sooner or later anyway. And I bet the store clerk will think you're so cute in your soaked pants. Come on, be a good baby for me. I want everyone to see exactly why I'm putting you back in diapers forever.

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 14 days

Text

You are not poison here (and you never really were)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.6k

genre: fluff, comfort for the hurt

warnings: slytherin reader, quidditch player reader, bestie peter is back, good feels all around

a/n: the promised happy ending of Is there hope in us, still? (is there something worth believing in?)

You're already in the Great Hall when they come down for breakfast, Peter chatting animatedly with them while Sirius sulks behind, his hands shoved in his pockets. James and Remus don't have to think about slowing their pace to match his - it's second nature, at this point, to be so in sync.

James stutters to a stop in the entryway though, Peter slamming into him and making some quip about James needing to turn his break lights on if he's going to keep doing that. James isn't really listening to him, though, his eyes trained on where you're sitting at the Slytherin table, shoving Evan Rosier lovingly while he laughs.

"Oh," Peter says when he follows James's gaze. "That's nice, isn't it?" Remus smiles and bumps his shoulder against Pete's. Even Sirius looks towards you, leaning slightly as if he's being pulled in your direction. James puts his hand on Sirius's shoulder gently, slowly, walking with him to the Gryffindor table.

"Maybe they'll come and join us, yea?" He says gently, but he recognizes the long-suffering look in Sirius's eyes. You're getting better. You're getting better but it's not with them. It's not with him. Maybe the only thing you needed was to be somewhere he's not.

Sirius, thankfully, doesn't get much further than that, his spiralling making his legs heavy as he sits down with the others, Peter on his left while James and Remus sit across from them. Peter slides a plate towards him and Sirius wishes desperately that he was a better person.

You're standing up from your table as they sit down, though, clapping Evan on the back as you leave. Sirius finds himself holding his breath as you slide into the seat next to him, ruffling Peter's hair on your way past and letting a small smile grace your lips as he grumbles and smoothes through the mussed strands with his fingers. Sirius thinks maybe if he doesn't move, maybe if he doesn't breathe, you won't notice him - won't notice the damage he does to himself and others, the poison that leaches from him and spills out.

But you just smile at him, a tentative, unpracticed sort of thing, and he exhales deeply and lets his shoulders drop while you turn to greet the others as well. Your leg brushes Sirius's under the table and someone cracks a joke he half hears and he thinks maybe there's something other than venom running through his veins - maybe there has to be for him to have something as good as this.

"Rosie thinks he and I should get some extra practice in before the first game of the season - you know, just to make sure we beat Gryffindor again." Your voice doesn't have quite it's usual haughty, teasing lilt, but getting closer, and James lets out an unflattering sound of betrayal at your words.

"Again?" He says indignantly. "We've beat you lot our fair share of times, alright? And besides, you two cheat." He says it loudly enough that your fellow beater can hear from the Slytherin table, Evan turning to glare at James while you huff out an almost laugh. The sound is enough to make them all soften, Remus smiling at you gently as Sirius stares. Maybe, he thinks, there is hope in me after all.

The steps are slow, after that, but they are steps nonetheless. Another small smile, another quiet laugh - another bit of weight lifted off James's lungs, another whisper of insecurity silenced in Remus's mind. The two of them are lounging in the common room, Remus trying desperately to finish his essay while James talks about god knows what, when you and Sirius come in. He's got a scowl on his face, stomping across the floor as you clamber in after him, talking desperately.

"You are so wrong about this, Sirius," you say breathlessly, willing yourself to keep up with his long strides as he marches up the stairs to his dorm. "This is a bad idea - You know it is. No, don't look at me like that, just listen -"

The sound trails off as you disappear up the winding staircase and James, now silent, looks at Remus with a pout. Remus just smiles quietly in response - they both know what this is about.

Sirius comes back downstairs with his arms full of records, thumping the stack down on one of the common room tables and sorting through them. You stand opposite him, arms crossed and nose turned up.

"This party is going to suck because you have horrible taste in music -" Sirius makes a wounded sport of noise at your accusation and places a hand over his heart.

"Horrible taste? That's not what you said when we were in Moony's bed the other -"

"Alright!" You announce. Remus has looked up at the two of you with mild amusement and James doesn't even attempt to hide his laugh. "Not always. But this time, you do - this time, it's music for the first Gryffindor party of the new school year. Is this what you want everyone to remember from it?" You pick up a record, making a bemused face that they all know is just for show. "Your weird music?"

"Snakes don't get opinions on Gryffindor parties, doll," he says as he snatches it back from you. "And just because you insist on playing the Bee Gees at every Slytherin party doesn't mean we have to follow suit."

"Do not say anything about the Bee Gees. I swear to god, I'll��" You watch him sort another record into the yes pile and your mouth drops open. "Anyway, we're together. Your reputation is my reputation. James faceplanted off his broom last week and people have been doubting my quidditch skills ever since."

"Not to mention doubting our taste in partners after seeing it," Remus adds. You smile triumphantly as James slides off the couch and onto the floor dramatically, burying his face into a pillow. Your joy is interrupted, however, by Sirius apparently being finished with his sorting, hauling the no pile into his arms and moving to bring them back upstairs. You make an indignant, panicked noise as you snatch a record off the table and chase after, him, stepping over James so that you can clamber over the back of the couch.

"No, I'm serious -"

"No, I am." Sirius doesn't break stride as he begins up the staircase again.

"I'm just saying - Waterloo? Really? Because Angel Eyes is such a good song and it's obviously better and - what? Don't look at me like that. I mean, if you're going to play ABBA, you might as well play a good one and -" Your voice trails off up the stairs again while James peaks out from under his pillow.

"Come back up here, love." Remus pats the space next to him on the couch, his eyes still focused on his essay. James spends a great deal of time grumbling and whining about the humiliation of it all, insisting that his fall in that quidditch game wasn't even that bad. By the time he's climbing into his lap, disrupting Remus from his studying as he plants himself firmly in the boy's field of vision, you and Sirius are coming back downstairs.

You sit on the other end of the couch, your pout prominent as Sirius dips down to press a kiss to your cheek, one hand raking through his now disheveled hair.

"You forgot to fix your tie after," James says cheerily, his face smushed against Remus's neck.

"You're one to talk," you grumble, reaching up to fix your tie, nonetheless. You don't get very far, though, as Sirius plants himself next to you, rearranging you so that your legs are thrown over his lap before he bats your hands away.

"We're all finished with classes for the day, lovely, you might as well take it off," he says as he loosens your tie until the knot comes undone, throwing it over one of his shoulders, instead. His one tie is nowhere to be found, the collar of his shirt hanging comfortably with the first two buttons popped open.

"Careful, Sirius." You poke at his cheek and he snaps his teeth at your finger playfully. "Someone might think you're in the wrong house if you go around with those colours on display. They might get the wrong idea about you."

"Well," he sighs, throwing his arm across the back of the couch so that he can smooth a hand over Remus's hair before settling his fingers at the base of his neck. "Your reputation is my reputation, pretty thing. It's probably a little too late to worry about people thinking the wrong things."

He grins as he says it, a pretty sort of look flashing across his face that has you leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek before you let your forehead rest against his shoulder. He smooths the hand that isn't preoccupied with Remus's hair down your back and James reaches forward to trace idle shapes over Sirius's thigh.

There's a silence that overtakes you all then, a comfort that blankets you as you quiet down. Remus, his hand rubbing up and down James's back as he leans his head into Sirius's touch - his hands helping, his soul healing. James, pressed as much as he can against the people he loves - the desperation to make it all right quelled by the love that sits so prominently in his chest.

And then there's Sirius, safe and whole and pressing a kiss to your forehead while you relax against him. There's a peace that overtakes the two of you, something kind and gentle that feels a lot like hope. A stability feels a lot like love.

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justhereforthemeta · 9 months

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Crowley and the Fall: Looking where the furniture isn't

Furfur, 1941: "We were in the same legion. Just before the fall. Doing dubious battle on the plains of Heaven. Remember?"

Crowley: "I remember going into battle. I don't remember being there with you."

Um... does Crowley's professed memory track with what we know about his fall? Setting aside for a moment that he doesn't remember Furfur - I mean, who just casually *saunters* into battle, really? In theory, it sounds like Crowley must have, but that's not what his "I remember going into battle" sounds like. It's been said before, but something about the circumstances of Crowley's fall (what little we know of it, at least) doesn't smell right. What we know is:

First, Crowley asked questions.

These questions antagonized the Metatron.

At some point, having gotten no satisfactory answers, Crowley began "sauntering vaguely downward," hanging out with the wrong crowd out of...boredom? Boredom with making nebulae? Nahhh. "Food hadn't been that good lately" (ahem, angels don't eat) sounds a lot like a euphemism for not enjoying the things you used to enjoy anymore. Ennui, maybe depression. Comes of your work feeling pointless, when you think you've been contributing to something big and meaningful that turns out to just be fancy wallpaper, something that was always meant to get torn down eventually anyway (ugh, Crowley, you and I should go get a whiskey after work sometime).

Eventually, that "wrong crowd" becomes a legion marching into battle on the plains of heaven.

Lucifer's side loses, and Crowley finds himself "suddenly doing a million lightyear freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur." Funny that whilst talking to no one but himself in the bar in season 1, Crowley characterizes his Fall as "sudden" with no mention of a precipitating rebellion or battle at all. Either way, it seems like there'd be a lot of distance for him to cover to get from "I'm feeling profoundly disappointed; what once sustained me has lost its flavor" to "I'm going to violently overthrow the system and put these other guys in charge." Especially for the one demon we know of who still appeals directly to God.

Anyway, that half-baked word casserole is my basis for theorizing that Crowley did ask questions, but he never violently rebelled. "Going into battle" is the sort of thing one does with some conviction, not in an attitude of casual, sauntering disaffection. And even if he was hanging out with the wrong crowd, Crowley has never been a mindless follower: he'd be just as likely to question and critique Lucifer/Satan as the Almighty Herself. If Crowley did fight in the war (big if, if you ask me), I suspect it was on the side of Heaven. Then at some point his memory was tampered with to make him forget which side he'd been on. The fog of war and all that...

One last thought on this topic: Saraquael. She claims to have worked with Crowley on the horsehead nebula; moments later, we see on heavenly instant replay that she was the angel tapping at their phone to look for Gabriel's memory so that it could be wiped. Was her question actually meant to test Crowley, to see how much he'd managed to remember?

Saraquael, only angel to recognize Metatron when he strolls into the bookshop - are you the one who performed the wipe of Crowley's memory on Metatron's behalf?

I haven't learned yet how to get good screenshots, but if you can, hit pause on Crowley's face just before the electrical sounds go off in heaven after Aziraphale has blown up his halo. He's turned around from the screens to look directly at Saraquael in this shot. His eyebrows are raised and we can see his narrowed eyes clearly through his sunglasses. He KNOWS.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens meta #pushed not fell

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unbidden-yidden · 3 months

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Ever since October 7th, the amount of misinformation and disinformation about Jews, Israel, Judaism, and even just like, basic facts about reality have been so intense that it's really dredging up a lot of my gaslighting trauma.

(No, not in the memic sense that it's been distorted into, but the kind of gaslighting that leads you to detransition and think it was your choice despite drowning in dysphoria, the kind that warps and changes and erases memories, and makes it so that you dissociate for literal months at a time to escape the pain. That kind.)

And I recognized this because I keep finding myself arguing facts and trying to reason with people who say that they're part of the compassionate left and care about working on antisemitism but yet spew the kind of antisemitism that would be totally at home on Stormfront.

It's that first arguing stage of gaslighting, where the abuser keeps saying outrageous, untrue things and you're still fighting to try and get them to empathize with you and seek mutual understanding. This:

A gaslighter does not simply need to be right. He or she also needs for you to believe that they are right. In stage 1, you know that they are being ridiculous, but you argue anyways. You argue for hours, without resolution. You argue over things that shouldn’t be up for debate — your feelings, your opinions, your experience of the world. You argue because you need to be right, you need to be understood, or you need to get their approval. In stage 1, you still believe yourself, but you also unwittingly put that belief up for debate.

(bolding mine) (source)

This is a pattern I recognize in myself in personal relationships and even within communities, but what's happening right now is a lot bigger and more diffuse. It's not one abuser or even a shitty cohort of abusive people who are monopolizing a community space. This is being encouraged in a frighteningly large number of non-Jewish progressive spaces. In the same way that stochastic terrorism adds up very quickly, this type of cultural gaslighting and stochastic emotional abuse feels like a deluge.

But if you look at history, this is not new, for Jews. This is but the latest version of a very long game of Why Won't You Just Give Up and Assimilate or Die that Jews have thus far prevailed on at great cost to ourselves.

Anyway I'm done arguing with goyim about things that absolutely should not be up for debate: Jewish history, Jewish culture, what certain religious concepts in Judaism mean, Jewish lived experiences, what is and isn't antisemitism. If you aren't willing to engage in a genuine way that seeks mutual understanding, I'm not interested. I'm done.

You are engaging in violent behavior and lying to yourself about it and calling it activism. Well I am no longer going to participate. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you are a bad person and I don't forgive you, and you can do that alone.

You are acting from a mob mentality and a mob cannot be reasoned with. You are drunk on your tiny bit of power and social capital, and years down the line you'll lie to yourself and pretend that you cared about us.

You didn't. And deep down you know it, too.

Instead of arguing with people who refuse to see facts or reason and put our experiences up for debate, I am going to work on compiling a resource for people who want to actually learn.

Everyone else can fuck off.

#fuck around on this post and find out

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xerith-42 · 3 months

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I was wrong

It takes a lot to admit that, even more for me to admit that about MCD, but I was wrong about something in regards to this series. In a previous post I said that the worst episode of MCD was Season 2 Episode 95, because it was the culmination of the absolute failure that was Laurance's character arc. And I wasn't wrong about that, S2E95 is an objectively bad episode and I stand by it being one of the worst. But it's only one of the worst episodes of this series. Probably second or third worst.

The actual worst episode of Minecraft Diaries happens far earlier in it's run time than I anticipated. The actual episode that begins the degrading of every single main character happens within it's first season. The worst episode of Minecraft Diaries is Season 1 Episode 65, Our Fears.

For those of you who haven't watched MCD in a minute, or aren't insane like I am and recognize what happens in an episode from just a number and a thumbnail, this is the episode where Aphmau and Dante get chased into Malachi's abandoned castle and fall victim to his uncontrollable magic. A magic that shows people their greatest fears.

Now the concept of a ghost that forces the audience and the characters to come face to face with the leading characters greatest fears is a fantastic idea. I'm serious this is one of the best concepts for character work in the entire Aphverse. This is great, this can go so many good ways.

Aphmau's fear is pretty weak mostly because it shows her house on fire, nobody hurt, and Malachi comments that she's "Scared of losing the ones you love." My honest reaction to this was "She lost her house in episode 36 and didn't seem to care because her loved ones are safe. You wanna communicate that she's scared of people dying just show Zoey lying on the ground or something smh." It gets the job done, but not very well.

Dante's fear is the only one that's well done because it's an image of Gene about to rip apart the realm barrier in the Nether. This works surprisingly well despite only being one shot because it gets across Dante's connection to Gene and the Nether pretty well, setting up for the reveal later on. Dante's existence is this episode's single redeeming quality. And as much as I like the guy, he's not enough to hold up the episode after what happens next.

Now, dear viewer who presumably knows the plot of MCD because you've read this far into a post about this single episode, you know that at this point in the series Garroth has been found out by his brother and has the looming threat of the entire O'Khasis military on his mind all the damn time. Zane has already hurt members of his village in direct ways, and only didn't do more damage because he was called away for an emergency. Garroth has already failed to protect one lord, and he's nearly failed to protect another.

Laurance is a shadow knight. And even though the lore of shadow knights is still flimsy at this point, we know that they are very prone to killing lords, it's why Laurance renounced his position as head guard of Meteli and refuses to return. But that doesn't mean his desire for blood is gone. It just means it has a new target. Like say, the lord he comes to the castle in search of? That he has explicit romantic feelings for?

Again, this idea of forcing the audience and the characters to face their greatest fears is such a good idea, especially with these three, because they can all be interlinked. Aphmau fears losing her loved ones, Garroth fears failing to protect his people, and Laurance fears that he'll give into bloodlust. Are you picking up what I'm putting down? I don't know if I can make it anymore obvious where the show should have gone from here.

But, no, unfortunately Jesson wrote this series. So what could have been one of the best moments of character work in the entire series, instead became the beginning of the end for our would be love interests. I'm of course referring to how it's revealed that their actual "worst fear" is Aphmau getting with... Another guy. Not even her picking one over the other, just her holding hands with and kissing some guy that Garroth and Laurance DON'T EVEN KNOW!

And despite Laurance saying he's happy as long as he has Aphmau in his life, he starts getting enraged that another guy would have the audacity to kiss her. Even though the scene he's shown seems to be entirely consensual. And in response to this, BOTH OF THEM DECIDE TO TRY AND KILL THIS ILLUSION OF DANTE JUST FOR KISSING THE GIRL THEY LIKE!

AND THIS IS SEEN AS A GOOD THING BY THE SHOW!! Attacking this illusion breaks the barrier around the real Aphmau and Dante, and Garroth and Laurance are never punished for their actions here. Aphmau is barely concerned that her guards, the men she's willing to trust with her life, were willing to kill someone for the crime of kissing her. Hot fucking take, Aphmau maybe shouldn't trust these people after seeing that they're willing to kill a man over the crime of loving her when they want to.

And even hotter take, GARROTH AND LAURANCE WOULDN'T DO THIS! Both men have been shown to be highly protective over Aphmau, which makes sense it's literally their job to keep her safe, but that protective nature shouldn't cross over into actively interfering with her romantic life. They're fucking lucky it was just an illusion, what would have happened if Malachi used mind control? What if he was using Aphmau and Dante's bodies as puppets? What if Garroth and Laurance just killed an amateur guard whose only crime was being forced to kiss the girl they liked?

This is one of those writing decisions that truly baffles me. It was RIGHT THERE, HOW DID YOU MISS, IT (the perfect piece of character work) WAS THREE FEET IN FRONT OF YOU! The answer is that Jesson don't really care about the interesting character work, they care about tropes. They care about the main character being in a love triangle with two guys who equally suck but in different ways. They care about fans getting excited and debating over which ship is better. They care about pushing this love triangle onto viewers regardless of what makes sense for the characters involved because the writers fail to see the nuance of the characters that they fucking wrote the nuance of.

I fucking hate Episode 65. Easily the worst episode of MCD. Any episode after this when Garroth and Laurance act horrendously out of character in service of this love triangle (I'm looking at you episode 77, and episode 90, and season 2 episode 95, and season 2 episode 98), know that it started here. It started with episode 65.

Fuck this episode.

#I love being a hater #minecraft diaries #mcd #text post #aphblr #aphverse #laurance zvahl #garroth ro'meave #mcd aphmau #episode analysis #fuck episode 65 #me and my homies fucking hate episode 65 #actually despise this episode

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 1 month

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Dark Moon | Chapter Thirteen

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 2,7k

Warnings | +18, angst, blood, risk of death, Jimin is absolutely beside himself, lots of tears and guilt, kissing and promises, mention of rape, mentions of kidnapping and past abuse, mention of murder, feeling of shame, Stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, triggering content

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys ❤️ This is one of the chapters I loved writing about Dark Moon, I hope you will like it too! Always let me know what you think, I love your comments ❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling, @namjoonsbuspass, @darkuni63, @xicanacorpse, @jiminismine4ever, @btssimpjaneth, @antisocial-mochi267, @reallygenerouskoala, @velvet-stardust2002

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Previous - Next

Everything around him was smeared with blood and dirt, gunpowder shrouded that mansion in the open country that was teeming with Choi's men, but Jimin crushed their heads with ease, he would have eliminated them all, from first to last.

He struck the side of yet another idiot who thought he could confront him and ran toward the dungeon; Hoseok had told him that was most likely where they kept Y/N, because in checking the main rooms he had found no trace of the girl.

At his side Taehyung pinned a man by the arm and with a kick to the throat threw him lifelessly to the ground.

Even with confusion like the clash that was raging it was easy to find the room, although there were many only from one came the inhuman screams of a woman.

With icy chills on his neck he knocked down the door following a violent and desperate shove, freezing in front of that macabre sight.

Y/N was completely tied to a table with her legs shamefully spread wide open, her naked body was littered with bruises and cuts, and she was shaken by violent sobs, not to mention the blood, there was blood everywhere and the sight made Jimin lose all glimmer of reason. What the hell had they done to her?

He sprinted toward her, whose increasingly dull face was stained with terrible purplish marks and red splashes, "Y/N?!" was that his voice?

The voice so shrill and distraught, he himself did not recognize it as his own, Taehyung wordlessly observed the scene before him, he was breathless, Jimin cradled the girl's head in his arms, shaking her hair away from her face.

"Taehyung, help me!" he shouted in his direction, causing his friend to recoil, who retrieved his gun and fired accurately at each handcuff that held the young girl still bound, the skin around her wrists and ankles was now gone, the handcuffs had as if given her burns as a result of the excessive rubbing.

Jimin slowly took her in his arms, trying to figure out where the spillage of blood was coming from, and clutched the girl spasmodically to him, his face a pure picture of shock, he left her just long enough to take off his shirt and press it firmly against the girl's chest, there was only one hole, the bullet had passed through her chest and most likely got stuck inside her, he instead used his jacket to cover his nakedness, Y/N looked at him with wide, vacant eyes, as if she was no longer there but somehow still recognized Jimin's figure.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he said between trembling lips, "I made you wait too long," he found himself crying, crying like a child at the miserable sight of that girl who had fought him so hard, lying in a sea of blood. She didn't even look like her anymore.

He had not protected her, he lacked air, he had not protected her.

"Jimin..." she gasped instead, reaching out a hand to the face of the man who had made her suffer so much, "Are you... fine," she sighed through the unbearable pangs of that torment. He was alive, he was well, and he was there, there with her.

Seeing him in that place, to save her, made her inexplicably emotional, even though that made no sense.

Jimin tenderly grasped her hand, kissing it and shaking his head, "Don't talk, don't waste your breath," he raised his face toward Taehyung who was looking at them with a bewildered and guilt-filled expression, "Go get help, Tae, please!"

The friend revived and nodded hastily and rushed out of the room, leaving them alone.

"You're here," sobbed the girl softly, sinking her head into the young man's bare chest, Jimin kissed her forehead trying to comfort her somehow, just imagining what had been done to her destroyed him.

"Of course I'm here, did you think I wouldn't come for you?" he asked in despair in the face of her physical and mental torment, he pressed harder on her now-primed shirt with vermilion liquid, hoping Taehyung would hurry up, "You're mine, Y/N, you mustn't forget that."

"But you hate me," was the only response he received, at which Jimin growled.

"I already told you I don't hate you!" he exclaimed bringing his lips closer to hers, "Would I hold you close to me like this if I hated you?"

Y/N slowly closed her eyes, her conscience screaming at her to stay awake, to listen to Jimin as her increasingly tired body demanded rest.

"Y/N!" he cried anxiously, pressing their lips together for a few seconds, it was a gentle touch as quick as a flap of wings, but it was enough to make her open her eyes again, "Stay with me, baby" he said in a sob.

"I've missed you" she whispered with little breath, it cost her effort in every sense to admit it aloud, but it was so, she must have been crazy for a long time now, but in Jimin's arms, she told herself, she could die with peace of mind.

"I've missed you," he repeated with a strange emotion in his eyes, he looked at her with such a gentleness that she had never noticed in her regard, it contrasted so much with those piercings that adorned his angular and massive body and gave him a dangerous air, "I won't let you go again, Y/N," he said quickly, the girl nodded slowly with a small smile, shortly afterwards her vision darkened.

Their story was strange, inconsistent. A lot had practically changed in just a year, who knew her tormentor would hold her like that? Who knew she would let him, surrendering to his grasp?

A bud had managed to bloom into a beautiful rose, nurtured by the sweet blood and bitter despair that cradled the existence of both of them.

Jimin counted every second that he spent in that house.

Y/N was almost always in bed, even two weeks after the shooting, at first he thought it had something to do with what Minho had done to her, but it wasn't just that, he knew it well.

He had promised not to let her go again, but instead he was a shadow of himself and did not dare to get too close to her. He was ashamed, not because of the desperate and frightened words he had whispered to her in that place, but because he had not been able to protect her, she had almost died and he could not find peace, he was always thinking "What if...?".

He hadn't gone to work anymore, he knew Seokjin would give him a hard time, but he couldn't do it. Every night with his heart in his throat he feared she might disappear again, that house didn't make him feel safe, not anymore.

He shrugged his shoulders closing his eyes bitterly, he had been wrong again.

Ever since he had met Y/N it seemed that the only certain thing he knew how to do was to be wrong again and again, never learning from his mistakes.

Then his ears picked up something, it was Y/N's faint voice calling him, and he jumped up from the sofa, running into her room.

"Did you call me?"

The girl was half stretched out on the bed, wearing a nightgown over the chest bandage she still had to keep for safety, she was so small and delicate that it seemed to Jimin that he was facing a tender fairy.

"I'd like to take a bath," she said shyly, avoiding his gaze.

"I don't think that's a good idea, the wound might leak more blood."

"Please... I feel dirty," she begged him with doe eyes, the man found himself sighing.

"Wait for me here."

The attitudes of both of them had changed, it was different from just tolerating each other, there was a gentleness never seen before in the way they both spoke to each other, it was pleasant and not only for Y/N, even Jimin wondered why he hadn't done it before.

He prepared her bath and then returned to her, took her effortlessly in his arms, and the young woman breathlessly admired the sensual features of his relaxed and masculine face, but adorned with wonderfully swollen lips, to be kissed countless times.

He helped her undress without taking his eyes off her body, but not out of lust.

He wanted to thoroughly scrutinize those marks that invaded her body disrespectfully over and over again, he fed on them to fuel the svisceral hatred he felt for Minho, they were still looking for him but soon they would unearth him, Jimin was sure of it.

When he accompanied her to the water the girl sighed contentedly, she made to loosen the bandages, but there too Jimin stepped in, gently removing everything and revealing the hole just above her right breast, he couldn't help himself, he reached out slightly to kiss gently that still young scar, lifted his eyes to her and found her staring at him with sympathetic blush on her cheeks.

Their new intimacy was strange; the abduction had changed something in their relationship.

He went back to soaping her body, occasionally leaving more kisses on her soft skin, kissed a spot just below her ear and slowly brushed his hand over her belly, the desire to make her feel good was there, pressing into his chest where his heart was pounding, but Y/N shivered and closed her legs instantly.

"I... sorry," she said squeezing her eyes shut to chase away the tears, but Jimin shook his head.

"Take it easy, I don't want to do anything," he tried to reassure her, going back to cleaning less intimate areas to let her know he meant what he said, that he didn't want to force her into anything, but Y/N swallowed a knot in her throat.

"No, you wanted me here to give you pleasure, I'm here for you, but I can't for the moment, not after that..." she froze trembling, remembering all too well Minho's painful and brutal thrusts, as well as Minhyun's thrashing as his boss panted on her like a pig, she covered her face in shame.

Jimin had also hurt her, but there was something different between him and Minho, she was more familiar with Jimin, she ventured to admit that ... somehow he had always attracted her?

She could not reflect objectively, but she was sure that for her Minho had simply been a horrifying and terrifying nightmare experienced with open eyes. Remembering the sadism with which he invited Minhyun to strike her and hurt her as he forced himself inside her would haunt her forever.

"There are so many reasons behind my decision to bring you here, Y/N, that was just one of many, but now it's different, you don't have to if you don't want to" the boy's sincere voice brought her back to the present, Jimin was really trying to make her understand, "And you don't know how much I regret what I did that last night, I was a monster" he said taking it out on himself and once again the girl found herself split in two.

"I... I thought you were, but after Choi Minho and his henchman...after they..." god, she couldn't even complete the sentence, "I understood who the demon was between you and him, believe me Jimin" she preferred to end the speech like that, clutching herself with embarrassment. She wasn't saying that Jimin hadn't done anything to her, but the thought that he was finally by her side calmed her down and she felt a pleasant warmth surface inside her, she was crazy and she was also accepting it.

The boy understood her shame and with a weary sigh began to lift up the light T-shirt he was wearing, the woman looked at him strangely and interestedly, his defined and luscious abs bewitched her, but Jimin pointed to the numerous piercings and dark ink lines on his arms.

"You don't have to feel ashamed of what happened to you, you were a victim, just like me."

Y/N widened her eyes in shock, what did he mean?

With indifference in his eyes, Jimin began to explain.

"In the past I met a young girl, it was night and she was coming back from an evening spent having fun with her friends, a drunk man had attacked her and I stepped in to save her.... I didn't know that my action would also doom me, I just wanted to do a good deed.... but she was part of the wealthy Choi family and was convinced that she could have it all, and by everything she meant me too, she was obsessed and I at the time was a kid committing a few petty thefts here and there, nothing too serious, but it was enough to be labeled as society's trash, no one would notice I was missing, and it was all too easy for her to convince her rich and powerful father to kidnap me and make me her prisoner," the boy's jaw tensed at those memories, "I was under that woman's power for four years, like a toy."

"Jimin, you don't have to do that," she pleaded in a broken voice.

"I don't want there to be any secrets between the two of us, Y/N," he smiled slightly, wiping away a tear from her eyes, "She used to keep me tied by one ankle at the foot of her bed, said I was her prince in a cage, at other times she would call me a dirty dog and I would pray that she would finally let me go free, but she would always burst out laughing... she didn't smoke, but she would always light a cigarette and put it out on me when she wanted to punish me or just vent about something, I was her outlet, I was instead taken to the dungeon when I behaved "badly," she would order her father's men to beat me and sometimes I wouldn't eat for days."

The girl gently brushed all those piercings, each of them hiding that kind of wound, Jimin closed his eyes under her gentle touch.

"Her cravings eventually matured and she forced me to have intercourses with her, but I never came, she blocked every sensation, she made me disgusted," he hissed, "I hated all Choi and all women looked like her to me."

He inhaled softly, wiping his sweaty forehead, something in those memories - his demons - made him react that way.

"Seokjin had some things to settle with Choi Senior and when he saw me, he asked for me as payment to settle what Choi still owed him, it was a lie, he saved me and then exterminated everyone in that house, seeing what he had managed to do only because he had wanted it that way, he convinced me to join his family, I began to have real sex with all the prostitutes who roamed the Dark Moon, the only difference being that I was the one with the upper hand now, I used them to unload my lust and I treated them badly because they reminded me of her all too well, that bitch, I could see it in their eyes the desire to use me to live a more comfortable life," he chuckled without amusement, "Then you came along and turned my world upside down, you unnerved me with your purity, you rejected me and I wanted you instead, it was frustrating, with you I wanted to do everything I had always recommended not to do with anyone and I hated myself."

"What do you mean?" she now stared at him with fascination, in front of her was a man who could finally understand her.

"Love you. I wanted, no… I want to love you."

"Jimin, I-"

"Don't answer me now," he shushed her by pressing his soft, irresistible lips to the girl's sweet ones, "Whether you love me back or not, just wait a little longer, even if it takes fifty years if necessary, just...don't ask me to give you freedom, I can't do that."

That was the love Park Jimin could and wanted to give her; passionate, tender ... possessive, selfish.

As she watched the boy leave the bathroom she found herself longing for that sick love, but one she absolutely needed to feel safe.

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kookwashere · 7 months

Text

Can we get over it?

Summary: You and Jungkook grew up together, you ate from the same lunch box, rode the same bus, cried on each others shoulders, until his new girlfriend came in between you two and you both got into an argument and began to hate each other, but can you guys just get over it?

Warning: Contains fluff (my baby 😭), smut (yeehaw bois) oral (f&m), soft AND rough sex, riding, OC is a virgin, Jungkook is experienced but still gentle with OC, breeding kink, petnames (Baby, my love) language (Obviously) Aftercare, smut with very little plot 😋 This is my first ff so please don't expect it to be good 😔

Pain. That's what I felt as I laid in bed, curled in a ball, with dark chocolate and a heating pad on my stomach.

I didn't feel like going to school today, why? Well, what a very "lucky" day to be a woman, right? This period seems to be worse than some of the other ones i've had.

I groaned in pain as the cramps kept pulsing in pain, it felt like a knife was in my uterus and it was being twisted.

I managed to pick up my phone from my nightstand, I got a text from my friend Eunhye.

Eunhye: gurl u good?

Me: hell no, cramps 🤧

Eunhye: aw im sorry, anything i can do for u?

Me: no, it's ok, did you finish the project for art?

Me: it's due soon

Eunhye: uhhh abt that...

Me: wat?

Eunhye: jungkook is in our group 😭 but don't get mad at me!! i tried to tell the teacher to switch him out

Me: r u fr.

Me: time to switch out of that class

Eunhye: listen, maybe it's not the worst thing, i mean, he is a good artist? it could get us a decent grade

Me: yea but it's HIM and that's the problem

Eunhye: just pls give it a try, why can't yall js get over it?

Me: i wish it was that easy, i gotta go eunnie, love ya

Eunhye: ttyl girl, love u lots

You sighed as you put your phone down, maybe you should just sleep, you got tucked in your burrito blanket and fell into an abyss of darkness.

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

"Hey ____" You sighed and looked up, immediately recognizing the voice. "What is it, Jungkook?" You looked back down at your paper, trying to ignore him. "Why weren't you here yesterday?" He pulled out the chair to take a seat next to you.

"Why does it matter to you?" You said and rolled your eyes mentally "I'm just curious, calm down girl," He chuckled "You know, it's cute when you are annoyed." He smiled a bit, "Jungkook? Where's your girlfriend?" You started to become flustered so you changed the topic

"Oh, we broke up." Your jaw dropped, Mimi and Jungkook were basically like the golden couple, the couple that everyone wanted to be, they were like in love with each other, what happened?

"You and Mimi broke up? Why?" You put your pencil down, now stopping your work to listen. "She was just to controlling, she didn't even let me hangout with any other girls, I couldn't do it, plus, there are plenty other girls that are way better than her in this school." He explained, "Oh yeah? Like who" You said and crossed your arms looking at him. "Hm, well," He looked up thinking while leaning back and crossing his arms too "Bomi's pretty hot, so her...Your friend Hannie, and well..." He put up fingers naming the girls and then paused, "Well.." He chuckled once again "You."

"H-huh? Me? What?? Why?" You were shocked "Calm down, ___. You are just...like the perfect girlfriend, I mean, you are smart, you have a good sense of humor, you are drop dead gorgeous, what else can I say?" He smiled to himself, looking down.

"I-I'm what? Gorgeous?" You turned away, flustered again. "Have you seen yourself, ___? Every boy in this school wants you are has wanted you, no exceptions." You felt your breathing getting faster, as well as your heart beat. "Every boy...does that mean you too?" You whispered, he went silent and looked down "I have to go now, bye loser" He teased you and smiled.

"Why can't we just get over it?" You mumbled under your breath, playing with your fingers.

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

Okay, okay, Jungkook is coming over today for the project, Jeon Jungkook, my enemy, my first crush, my only crush.

I wish Eunhye was here but she got the cold, fuck you cold weather.

You were getting a snack and then you heard the door knock, you took in a deep breath and opened the door, seeing one of the most handsome man you have ever seen.

"Hi, Jungkook."

"Hello, ____."

"Come in, it's cold outside," You moved out of the way so he could come in, "Ah, so you do care about me." He smiled "Shut up or i'll lock you out instead." You closed the door.

"Where are your parents?" He asked while taking his jacket and shoes off "Out of town, my aunt died so they are at her funeral." You said while getting everything ready "I'm sorry for your loss, why aren't you there with them?" You sat down next to him on your bed "I wasn't very close with my aunt, I didn't know her that well.." You said and played with your fingers again

Jungkook went quiet, we both sat in silence for what felt like forever. "____, that fight that we had that night, I never wanted that to happen, you were the only good thing in my life and I just let you go." He was still looking away from you, you looked up at him. "Then why? You knew what she was doing to me, and still, you always picked her...it's like I didn't even exist to you anymore or I was just a burden in your life." He finally looked up at you too, looking in your eyes.

"You never have, never was, and never will be a burden in my life...I guess I was just scared." He laughed at himself. "It's silly, I know..." You licked your lips "Scared of what, Jungkook?" You scooted closer to him. He took a deep breath in and out, "I was scared of my feelings, I mean, fuck. You were the most beautiful, caring, funny, smart girl I have met, I guess I was scared I couldn't ever admit my feelings for you..." Your eyes widened "____, I don't hate you, if anything, those feelings never changed, I don't like you anymore, I love you, I'm sorry if that was sudden but I-" You cut him off.

"I love you too, Jungkook."

"You what?" His jaw was dropped "I said I love you too, I don't care if it sounds selfish but you don't know how long i've been waiting for you two to break up." You giggled a bit "I've liked you sense we were kids Kook," You smiled at him "I really really-" This time it has his turn to cut you off, but not with words, his lips were tangled with yours, one of his hands on your cheek and the other one on your waist.

"You don't even know how long I have wanted to do that..." He whispered and pulled you into a kiss again.

The kiss got more intense and he pushed you down onto the mattress and came above you"

"Mmh" He groaned into the kiss and pulled away, "Do you..do you want to?" He asked still hovering above you. You nodded and pulled him back down to kiss.

He started unbuttoning your blouse as you guys were kissing, you sat up to let him slide it off, then he pulled away from the kiss to slide the shirt over his head.

"Can I?" His fingers fiddled over the top of your panties "Yes." You whispered softly

You lifted your bottom up off the bed so he can pull your panties off, he threw them somewhere across the room, and let his fingers slide all over your body to your back, he undid your bra, letting it slide off your shoulders.

He takes a moment, taking in a deep breath, eyes scanning over your body, taking it in "Fuck, you're so beautiful...most beautiful girl in the whole world, my pretty baby..." He rubbed his hands on your legs, brining your feet up on his shoulder, he gave a soft gentle kiss against your foot and set it down

"Jungkook..." You whined "What is it baby? How do you want me? Hm?" His eyes still taking your beautiful frame in

"I want you here..." Your hand resting ever so gently over your mid section. "I'll get there my love, just be patient." He said while kissing down your thighs, going in a zigzag line between each thigh until his mouth was over your pussy.

With one lick against your clit, you developed goosebumps over your body "Kook- Mmh" You moaned softly.

His long tongue went over your clit, kissing, licking, sucking, with his mouth over your clit, he shook his head side to side to get you closer to your high.

"Kookie...I-I'm gonna...mmm- cum.." You said and gripped his hair "Yeah? let go for me baby, cum all over my face, you can do it baby, let go..." He mumbled, sending vibrations through your whole body starting on your mid section.

You released over his face, wetting it, soaking your bed sheets. "Good job baby, good girl..." He whispered while coming back up to kiss you so you can taste yourself.

"Jungkook, I want to help you too." You said softly. "Baby...you really don't have to, it's okay." He looked down at you

"No, I want too. Please?" You pleaded "Fuck, alright, yeah." He breathed out

He layed on his back, head resting against the pillows, you kissed down his chest, defined abs and toned body, reaching his jeans, sliding them off, then the exact same with his boxers, his cock hard and leaky, veins running his big length.

"Can you take it baby?" He asked teasingly "You know I can." You whispered before grabbing his length in your small hand. "Mmm, oh fuck...s-shit..." He moaned gently.

Jungkook was very vocal in bed, sometimes when he had girls over you could hear him, sometimes even louder than the girl, that was very rare though.

"A-ahh, baby, can you take it in your mouth? Please...I need it.." He whined, you slowly enveloped his cock with your mouth, gagging noises filled the room, your eyes getting teary.

"Oh my god...like that babygirl..." He tilted his head back, your hands caressed his balls and he whined at that, moving your head faster with his hand.

"B-baby, I need to cum...where c-can I?" He stuttered because he was about to see stars. You didn't answer so he presumed down your mouth, and he was right.

"O-oh yeah...shit! Oh my fucking god baby..." He cummed down you're throat, you tasted the salty liquid and swallowed it like the good girl you are for him.

"Can I fuck you now? Please.." He practically was begging "Yes, take me, im all yours Kook." You layed your back on the mattress again.

He put hands on each of your knees, slowly spreading your legs apart, seeing your pink pussy dripping with need for him, that only he could make happen.

"You are all mine, my girl, my princess, my pretty baby, my little cum slut." He said while looking down at your cunt, giving it a slap, making you jolt.

"Can I put it in now baby? I'll go slow...I promise." He said and grabbed his shaft in his hand "Yes, oh god please Jungkook."

He moved his hand up and down, getting on his knees while the top of his hand was filled with his pre-cum that had leaked out.

He slowly slide in with easily, your wetness helping both you and him to feel more comfortable. "I-Is this okay?" His breathing quickened and you nodded.

"I-I'm gonna move now, okay baby?" He slowly moved his hip back so only the tip stayed in, then slowly pushed it forward, you were already addicted to the feeling it gave you, and he felt the same way.

"Fuck, you're so tight...such a good fit for my fat cock." He breathed out, face stuffed in your shoulder and neck.

He started slow at first then started going faster, the headboard was rocking against the wall, you were pretty sure you were going to receive noise complaints.

"Ride me." He said out of breath. You winced when he pulled out and flipped you on top of him, he helped you guide him in and you sunk down, moaning loudly and throwing your head back.

"Come on babygirl, show your boyfriend what a good girl you are...only for me, no one else." You slowly moved up and down, gaining a steady rhythm, his hands were all over your body, your ass, waist, hips, your breasts that were bouncing right in front of him.

"That's a good girl, that's a good fucking girl..." He growled out "Nobody in this fucking world gets to have this cunt, just me, just your boyfriend." You whined again "You like that huh?" You nodded fast, still riding him hard, his hands intertwined with yours and you rode him faster.

He threw his head back and his eyebrows furrowed, biting on his bottom lip. "Shit, I think i'm gonna cum baby..." You nodded "I-I am too..." You whimpered feeling a knot in your belly, trying to chase that feeling.

"You gonna let me cum in you? You gonna let me fuck a baby into you? Let you be my baby mama?" He growled and flexed his hips up to meet you in the middle.

"Oh yes! I will Jungkook, take all of me.." You moaned out.

"I-I'm cumming..." He moaned and came inside you, just a few seconds later you came, your legs shaking and back arching.

You rolled off of him, onto the side right by him, and he slowly pulled out of you. He kissed your forehead and got up to clean the mess. When he was done he joined you back in bed and cuddled you.

"Fuck, that was amazing, you're amazing.." He whispered while playing with your hair "Thank you Kook, the feelings mutual." You giggled

"I love you so much, ____, words can't even describe it." He whispered "I love you too, Jungkook." You smiled, and he smiled back sighing contently, but also while wondering,

"Why couldn't we just get over it?"

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