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greengoblinswifey · 21 hours ago

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Boss’ Obsession—Player 001/Hwang In Ho x Fem!Reader

summary— Young-il’s obsession with you reaches its peak and he takes you in the bathroom in the middle of the night. Based on this request.

warnings— praise kink, Somnophilia, Voyeurism, male masturbation?, oral(f!receiving), choking, mirror play, unprotected sex, creampie.

The poorly lit quarters was silent except for the soft snores and occasional murmurs of the others. The toll the games took was felt even in sleep, but Young-il’s mind was far from the anxiety of the competition. His dark eyes remained locked on you, his body leaning against the cold wall as you lay a few feet away, curled on your side, breathing softly.

He couldn’t stop himself, he never could. Since the moment he first saw you, you’d been a constant pull, something he couldn’t explain but didn’t bother questioning. You were his obsession. And now, in the quiet of the night, his infatuation consumed him.

A low moan rumbled in his chest as he shifted against the wall, his hand drifting lower. His palm pressed against his hard cock through his pants, seeking some relief as his eyes remained glued to you. He moved slowly, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to muffle any sound. The way your lips parted in sleep, the outline of your body under the thin blanket—it was too much.

But before he could finish, he clenched his jaw and stopped himself. Not like this. Not without you.

Getting up, he crossed the space quietly, crouching beside you. His fingers brushed your shoulder, a gentle nudge. “Wake up,” he whispered, his voice husky and low, “Come with me.”

“Young-il?” you murmured, voice heavy with sleep.

“Shh,” he said, helping you up. “We need to talk. Just come.”

Though confusion flickered across your face, you nodded, trusting him. He guided you toward the huge door, the guards barely sparing a glance as he led you out. You were so confused but your groggy state prevented you from even questioning it.

Once in the bathroom, he locked the door behind you both, the sound of the latch clicking echoing in the small space. You turned to him, still half-asleep but now more aware of something in his gaze.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice soft.

“You,” he said simply, stepping closer. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Fuck, not even for a second.”

Your breath hitched as he crowded into your space, his hands finding your waist.

“Young-il.”

“I mean it,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, “You’re all I see. All I want.”

You tilted your head, your lips brushing his, and that was all it took. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flat against him as his lips claimed yours. The kiss was fierce, needy, a testament to the obsession he had with you.

His hands roamed, finding the hem of your shirt and sliding beneath to grope your tits. You gasped against his lips, your fingers threading through his dark hair as he pressed you against the sink.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, his lips trailing down your neck. “Say it.”

“I— I’m yours,” you whispered, your nails digging into his shoulders as his kisses grew rougher, more desperate.

“Good girl,” he murmured, lifting you onto the edge of the sink as the room filled with nothing but the sound of your labored breaths.

Young-il’s hands trembled slightly as they gripped your waist. He had every intention of taking his time with you, savoring every moment, but the way you looked at him, slightly innocent, yet full of that same unrelenting desire he felt, had him weak.

His lips crashed against yours again, his control slipping. “I wanted to be patient,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough and low. “I really did. But I can’t, not tonight.”

You barely had a moment to respond before his hands were on the waistband of your pants, tugging them down with one swift motion. The sound of fabric tearing filled the small space as he discarded your underwear with little care. Your breath hitched, both in surprise and need.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his dark eyes devouring every inch of you. He sank to his knees, his hands sliding up your thighs as he pushed them apart. His touch was firm, possessive, and it sent a shiver up your spine.

“Young-il,” you whispered, your fingers finding their way into his hair.

“I’m going to make you feel so good. You won’t think about anything else but me.” he said, looking up at you.

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you, his tongue moving with purpose and precision. The pleasure was overwhelming, his lips and tongue working as if he was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his primal hunger. You bit down on your lip, trying desperately to keep quiet, but it was impossible. A soft moan escaped, and his eyes flicked up to meet yours, full of satisfaction and determination.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your pussy. “Don’t hold those moans. I want to hear you.”

Your hands tightened in his hair as he ravished your wetness, his pace relentless. The heat building inside you was unbearable, your breaths coming faster and more uneven. His grip on your thighs tightened, his thumb caressing your clit as his tongue slipped inside your hole.

“You taste so good,” he said between licks, his voice laced with desire. “You’re so perfect, all mine.”

The praise sent you over the edge. With a sharp gasp, your body tensed, and then the wave of release hit you, leaving you trembling, breathless and creaming.

Young-il didn’t stop until you were shuddering against his tongue, completely worn out. When he finally stood, his lips were swollen, and his smirk was self-satisfied. “Told you,” he said, brushing a strand of your curls from your face. “You’d forget everything but me.”

“Cocky much?” you said as you let out a shaky laugh, still catching your breath.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Only when it comes to you angel.”

You were still swooning from the intensity of how he ate you out but his hands on your hips told you he wasn’t finished. “I can’t wait anymore,” he murmured. His lips crashed onto yours as his fingers worked quickly, freeing his thick cock from his pants. Your eyes widened as he positioned himself between your legs, his size making your breath hitch.

“Y-you’re—” you started, but he smirked, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“You’ll take my cock, won’t you?” he whispered, his tone teasing. “I’ll take care of you, I promise angel.”

Your nod was all the answer he needed. His hands gripped your thighs, positioning you onto the counter as he guided himself into your dripping pussy. The stretch was burning, almost overwhelming, and your fingers clawed at his shoulders.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, pausing to let you adjust. “You feel so so good, better than I ever imagined.”

The pace he set was anything but slow. He thrusted into you with a raw, desperate need, his lips tracing your jawline before finding your neck. His praises spilled out in rough whispers, his hands keeping you steady as his cock slammed into you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re taking me so well. Just like that baby. Your pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

Your hands gripped the edge of the counter as waves of pleasure coursed through you. He tilted your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. “Cum for me,” he commanded, “I want to feel your pussy drench my cock.”

With a cry, you gave in, your pussy quivering against his cock. His name spilled from your lips as he buried his face in your neck, kissing you to ground you in the moment. Though, he wasn’t finished.

“Oh no angel,” he said with a smirk, pulling back slightly to look at you, “We’re not done yet.”

Before you could catch your breath, he turned you around, pressing your front against the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, fucked out and dazed, as he positioned himself to take you from behind.

“You look so good like this,” he whispered, his hand sliding up to rest lightly around your throat. His lips found the sensitive spot below your ear, trailing kisses down your neck as he started slamming into you.

Your fingers clutched the sink for support as his pace quickened, the roughness of it all leaving you breathless. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured. “So perfect for me. Look at yourself, see how good you’re taking my cock.”

The combination of his words, his hand around your throat, his cock slamming into you making your ass recoil, and your reflection in the mirror was too much. Your body tensed as you neared your end again, and he sensed it.

“Cum on my cock,” he urged, his hand tightening around your neck. “Come on angel, I’ve got you. Cum, now.”

And you obeyed. Your orgasm hit you harder this time, leaving you gasping as he followed right behind, moaning your name like a prayer, his cum filling you to the brim.

Young-il pressed a kiss to your shoulder before gently pulling you back against his chest. “That’s my good girl,” he whispered.

As he cleaned you up with surprising tenderness, you blinked at him, still dazed. “How—how did the guards even let us in here?” you asked, voice tired.

“Don’t worry about that angel.” His grin was smug, but his touch was soft as he helped you straighten your clothes.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the confusion and questions swirling your mind as he led you out of the bathroom, his hand warm and protective around yours, your legs wobbly.

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woso-story · 2 days ago

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Healing Love

Alexia Putellas x Reader

It was early in the morning when you stirred from your sleep, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in comfort. For a moment, you thought you might just drift back off, but then you realized something felt... off. You shifted slightly, blinking into the soft glow of the morning light creeping through the curtains. Alexia wasn’t next to you.

You frowned, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. 4:00 AM.

That was unusual. Alexia was always up early, but not this early. Even for her, 4 AM was pushing it. You turned over, stretching, and instinctively reached for her side of the bed. Empty.

A bit groggy, you swung your legs out of bed, rubbing your eyes. Something didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t like her to get up at such an early hour without saying anything. You pulled on a loose t-shirt and quietly padded down the hall, hoping to find her in the bathroom or the kitchen.

You checked the bathroom first, but it was empty. Confused now, you stepped into the living room, your footsteps barely audible on the hardwood floor. That’s when you saw her.

Alexia was lying on the couch, covered by a thin throw blanket. She had one arm draped over her forehead, her face relaxed, but she didn’t look comfortable. Her body was contorted in a way that made you frown—she usually hated sleeping in strange positions, always preferring the bed. You couldn’t help but wonder why she was out here.

Your thoughts raced. Had you fought the night before? No, everything had been fine. You’d spent a quiet evening together—no arguments, no tension. So why was she on the couch?

Before you could think too deeply about it, Alexia suddenly broke into a violent coughing fit, her body jerking with each breath.

Without thinking, you rushed to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. Your hands were steady, but a sense of dread filled you as you returned to her side. You kneeled down beside the couch and offered her the glass. She took it gratefully, drinking slowly, her coughing eventually subsiding.

It was then that you noticed something strange. You weren’t touching her, but you could feel the heat radiating from her body, the warmth almost palpable.

You gently placed your hand on her forehead, and the moment you made contact, your heart sank. She was burning up with fever. You immediately checked her face—pale, with a glossy sheen to her eyes, and her lips cracked from dehydration.

"Lex," you said softly, concern clear in your voice. "You’ve got a fever."

Her voice was raspy when she answered. “Thank you... for the water,” she murmured weakly.

You sat down next to her, running your fingers through her hair. “You should be in bed, not out here on the couch. What happened?”

She looked at you, her eyes a bit unfocused. "I didn’t want to wake you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I thought you needed rest.”

You raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “No, you need rest, not me. I’m staying with you.” You could feel the protective instincts kicking in, the same ones that always came when Alexia wasn’t well.

She tried to protest, her voice hoarse. “It’s not necessary. I have training soon... I’m fine, just a little cold, I’ll be okay.”

You frowned, not amused. "Training? You’re not going to training, Alexia. You’ve got a fever, you need to rest, not push yourself."

She tried again to argue, but you weren’t backing down. “The matches are coming up. I’m one of the captains, I can’t just skip out because of a cold. It’s nothing.”

You shook your head firmly, your voice growing more serious. “No, Alexia. You’re not going to training for the next few days. You’re staying home, and you’re going to get better.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but the look on your face was enough to make her pause. There was no room for discussion. You had made up your mind, and she wasn’t going to win this one.

With a long sigh, she nodded, clearly too tired to argue further.

You stood up, a sense of quiet satisfaction settling over you. “Good. Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

You left her on the couch and went to the bathroom. You quickly started filling the bathtub with warm water, adding a few drops of lavender oil for some relaxation. While the water ran, you returned to Alexia, helped her carefully to her feet, and supported her as she made her way to the bathroom.

She was weak—no surprise, given the fever—but she didn’t protest. You helped her undress and carefully guided her into the warm bath, the water soothing her feverish skin.

As she sank into the warmth, you left to prepare the bedroom, laying out fresh sheets and blankets. You set up a comfortable spot for her to rest, ensuring she would have everything she needed.

When she was done with her bath, you helped her out of the tub, drying her off gently before dressing her in soft, comfortable shorts and a hoodie. She looked exhausted, her movements slow, but you could see the slight relief in her face as the fever seemed to subside a little.

You helped her into the bed, making sure she was tucked in with plenty of blankets. You gave her some medicine to bring the fever down and checked her temperature. It was 39.3°C, still high, but a little lower than when you had first found her. You kissed her forehead, a soft and gentle touch.

“Get some sleep, Lex. You need it.”

She gave you a weak smile and nodded, immediately sinking into a deep slumber.

While she rested, you quietly texted the Barcelona staff, explaining that Alexia was sick and would be staying home for the next few days.

---

The next time she woke up, it was around noon. You were sitting next to her in the bed, reading a book, your hand gently resting on hers. She blinked slowly, rubbing her eyes.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, your voice soft and caring.

“Better,” she murmured. “But... I still have a headache.”

You smiled at her, standing up to get the soup you had prepared earlier. You helped her sit up slightly as you spooned the warm, homemade soup into her hands. After she ate, you checked her temperature again—it hadn’t changed much. You could tell she was still weak, but there was something comforting in the way she trusted you to take care of her.

“More medicine?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“Please,” she whispered.

You administered the medication, and she soon fell back into a restless sleep. The next few days passed in a blur of caring for her—checking her temperature, bringing her fluids, and making sure she was comfortable. You hardly left her side, even as the days grew longer and the fever began to break.

---

By the fourth day, Alexia was finally starting to feel better. She was sitting on the couch, a playful smirk on her lips.

"You know, you make a pretty perfect nurse,” she said, her voice still a bit hoarse but teasing. “Maybe you should get a costume to complete the role.”

You laughed, giving her a soft swat on the back of the head. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”

Before you could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. You opened it to find Mapi and Ingrid standing on the threshold, holding containers of food. Mapi barely spared you a glance, only saying a quick "Hola" before breezing past you to join Alexia on the couch.

Ingrid chuckled softly, shaking her head at Mapi’s antics. “She couldn’t stay away,” Ingrid said, stepping into the apartment. “She’s been worried about her.”

You nodded, letting them in. Ingrid had brought some cooked meals and snacks, clearly aware that you probably hadn’t had much time to go shopping during the past few days. You thanked her for her thoughtfulness, feeling a little overwhelmed by the care everyone showed.

As Mapi sat next to Alexia on the couch, chatting animatedly about what happened the last days at training, Ingrid stayed in the kitchen with you, the two of you talking about how Alexia was doing. Mapi, true to her nature, had made everything sound like it was a grand tale, even though most of it was just mundane updates. But Alexia was smiling, genuinely enjoying her best friend's presence. You could see the relief in her face as she laughed along with Mapi’s endless stories.

The rest of the afternoon passed with laughter and lightheartedness. When Mapi and Ingrid finally left in the evening, Alexia was back to her usual self—feeling much better and joking about how she had missed Mapi’s incessant chatter.

The next day, Alexia returned to training, but when she came home, she had a bouquet of flowers in her hand. She handed them to you with a soft smile.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice still tender. “For everything these past few days.”

You took the flowers, leaning in to kiss her softly. “You don’t need to thank me. I’ll always be here for you—especially when you’re sick.”

She smiled and kissed you back, pulling you into her arms as you both settled on the couch, a movie playing in the background. The world outside faded away as you simply enjoyed being in each other’s company again, both of you feeling content and at peace.

And for the first time in a while, everything felt just right.

#woso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas fanfic #woso community #barca femeni #woso fics #woso x reader #alexia x reader

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rose24207 · 1 day ago

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No, you’re not

Summary: You and Lando have been inseparable since childhood, both secretly in love with each other but too afraid to confess—he believes you deserve better than him, and you think his flings mean he could never see you that way, leaving your feelings tangled in unspoken fears of ruining your lifelong friendship.

Genre: angst, fluff

TW: None!

A/N: wow this is a long request! Thank you!! I really hope it’s like how you wanted it! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Based of this request

Masterlist

The Brazil Grand Prix had always been one of Lando’s toughest races. The circuit wasn’t just a test of his skill; it was a mental and physical marathon. This year was no different. After a grueling 71 laps that left him finishing far from where he wanted to be, he was wrung out, mentally frayed, and questioning every decision he’d made during the weekend. The lack of sleep afterward didn’t help, and by the time he boarded the flight back to Monaco, he was barely holding himself together.

All he wanted was to get home and shut the world out. No cameras, no engineers pointing out his mistakes, no fans bombarding him with well-meaning but exhausting messages. Just silence.

Except, as soon as he opened his front door, he realized he wasn’t going to be alone.

The lights in the living room were dim, but the faint glow of the TV illuminated the familiar figure curled up on his couch. You.

Lando’s heart squeezed at the sight of you, a feeling so achingly familiar it was almost painful. You were his best friend—the one constant in his life, the one person who saw him as just Lando, not a Formula 1 driver, not a public figure, just the boy you’d grown up with.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? You were his best friend. The girl he’d been in love with since he was sixteen. The girl who deserved better than someone like him.

You looked up when the door clicked shut, your eyes immediately finding his in the dim light. “Finally,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. “I was starting to think you’d sleep at the airport.”

Lando let out a breathless laugh, dropping his bag by the door. “Not sure I’d get much sleep there either.” He leaned against the wall, exhaustion radiating off him in waves. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” you said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I figured you’d be in a mood, so I let myself in.” You gestured to the half-empty bowl of soup on the coffee table. “I also raided your fridge. You really need to go grocery shopping.”

Lando shook his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “How’d you even get here?”

“I have a key, remember?” you said with a smirk. “And I used that thing called a car. Revolutionary, really.”

He rolled his eyes, but the warmth in his chest spread. You were always like this—casual, unbothered, always knowing exactly what he needed before he even realized it himself.

You stood and crossed the room, your smile fading as you got a closer look at him. “You look terrible,” you said, your voice dropping into that soft, concerned tone that always made his chest tighten.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“I mean it,” you said, tugging gently on the sleeve of his hoodie as if inspecting him. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“That’s because I haven’t,” he admitted.

You frowned, your eyes narrowing. “Lando...”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, though the hoarseness of his voice betrayed him.

“No, you’re not.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the couch. He let you, too tired to argue. “Sit. You need to eat something, drink something, and then sleep for about a year.”

He dropped onto the couch with a groan, sinking into the cushions. You draped a blanket over him before disappearing into the kitchen. He could hear you rummaging around, the sound of a kettle boiling, the clink of a spoon against a mug.

When you returned, you handed him a steaming cup of tea. “Drink,” you ordered, sitting beside him.

He took the cup and cradled it in his hands, the warmth seeping into his skin. He stared at the liquid for a moment before taking a small sip. It burned his tongue, but he didn’t care.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly, not meeting your eyes.

“Do what?”

“Take care of me.”

You snorted. “Someone has to. God knows you’re useless at it.”

He looked up at you then, and the small smile on your face made his chest ache. “I mean it,” he said, his voice low. “You don’t have to... be here. I’ll be fine.”

You frowned, your brow furrowing in that way it always did when you were worried about him. “Of course I do,” you said softly. “You’re my best friend, Lando. Where else would I be?”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? You were always there. Always caring, always looking out for him, always steady and dependable. And he was... what? A mess. A guy who jumped from fling to fling, trying—and failing—to get you out of his head.

He knew what you thought of him. You’d never said it outright, but he could see it in the way you’d roll your eyes whenever you saw another headline about him with some random girl. You thought he wasn’t serious. That he couldn’t be serious. And maybe you were right. Maybe he wasn’t capable of being the kind of man you deserved.

“How was the race?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“Bad,” he said simply.

“You want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, letting his head fall back against the couch. “Not really.”

You nodded, not pushing him. Instead, you shifted closer, your shoulder brushing against his. He felt your warmth seep into him, and for a moment, he let himself relax.

“Did you eat?” you asked after a while.

“Not really.”

You sighed and stood. “Stay here. I’ll heat up the rest of the soup.”

He watched as you disappeared into the kitchen, his chest tightening with every step you took. You were too good to him. Too good for him.

By the time you came back, holding a bowl of steaming soup, he’d convinced himself to push his feelings down again, to keep them buried where they couldn’t hurt you.

“Here,” you said, handing him the bowl. “Eat.”

He took the bowl and set it on his lap, picking up the spoon. “Thanks.”

You sat beside him again, watching as he ate in silence.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” he said after a while, his voice quiet.

“I’m not babysitting you,” you said with a shrug. “I’m being a good friend.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re too good at it.”

You smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in your eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The only sounds were the clink of his spoon against the bowl and the faint hum of the TV.

“Lando,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

He looked up at you, his heart skipping a beat at the way you were looking at him—like you could see right through him.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you said. “Whatever’s going on in your head... you don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

His throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. You always knew exactly what to say, exactly how to pull him back from the edge.

“I know,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks.”

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his.

And in that moment, he realized that no matter how much he tried to push you away, no matter how much he convinced himself that he didn’t deserve you, you would always be there.

And that terrified him more than anything.

Thank you for reading!

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando x you #f1 #fluff #angst #formula 1 #formula one

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luxerians · 14 hours ago

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The Last Mask (08)

Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader

Chapter 08 - Distance

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 09

PREV : Chapter 07

The dormitory buzzed with the sounds of light chatter and footsteps as players moved about, their voices mingling in an uneasy hum. You lay on your bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, eyes closed in a futile attempt to block it all out. Sleep was your goal, to escape the heavy thoughts weighing on your mind, even if just until tomorrow.

The faint voice of a guard announcing that dinner would soon be distributed echoed in the background, breaking through your quiet cocoon. Then, the sound of approaching footsteps reached your ears. You didn’t bother to open your eyes.

“[Your name], are you okay?” Dae-ho’s familiar voice called gently.

You kept your eyes shut. “I’m okay.”

Dae-ho sighed as well, the sound carrying his frustration. “I’m disappointed too. Jung-bae voting for O? I didn’t see that coming. I felt like screaming, ‘Sir, what are you thinking?’ at him. He agreed with us to vote for going back home just moments before the vote.”

“It can’t be helped,” another voice chimed in. You recognized it immediately as Young-il. It seemed Dae-ho wasn’t the only one who had come to check on you. Keeping your eyes closed, you listened as Young-il added, “People tend to change their minds once they’re standing at the voting counter.”

“Yeah, in a way, I kind of understood him. Because I felt that way too by the counter,” Dae-ho agreed.

A softer voice joined the conversation.

“Big sis, are you okay?” Jun-hee asked.

You finally opened your eyes, taking in the sight of Dae-ho and Jun-hee standing on the right side of your bed while Young-il lingered quietly on the left.

Turning your gaze to Jun-hee, you offered her a faint but reassuring smile. “I’m okay.”

“And we have a pregnant lady too,” Dae-ho continued, picking up where he left off. “She shouldn’t be here any longer.”

He leaned against the pillar of your bunk bed, sighing heavily. “I understood him but… what was Jung-bae thinking?”

The weight on your bed shifted slightly. You glanced down to see Young-il sitting on your bed at the far corner near your feet. His calm demeanor radiated reassurance as he addressed Dae-ho. “There’s no use thinking about it now. The votes are done. Let’s focus on staying together and winning the game again tomorrow.”

The three of them glanced in the same direction, momentarily distracted. You were about to close your eyes again when Dae-ho straightened up, his usual energy returning as he turned to you.

“Everyone is lining up to get dinner. Come on,” he said.

You shifted onto your side, pulling the blanket closer. “You guys go on ahead. I’m too tired right now.”

Dae-ho frowned, his tone firm. “You can’t sleep on an empty stomach. You need to eat. We did the hexathlon for who knows how long and didn’t even get breakfast. You must be starving, so come on.”

“But I’m so tired,” you admitted, your voice muffled against the pillow. “I just want to rest before the next game.”

“Don’t be like that,” he urged. “You’ll end up weak and all skinny tomorrow.”

A brief silence fell before you quipped, “I’m trying to go on a diet anyway, so it’s fine.”

Dae-ho scoffed, waving off your excuse. “Haih, you look beautiful already. Now get up-”

“It’s okay,” Young-il’s calm voice interrupted unexpectedly. “You two go on ahead. The queues are getting long. I’ll persuade her.”

The sound of retreating footsteps followed as Dae-ho and Jun-hee headed off toward the dinner queues. The dormitory buzzed with chatter and movement, but your focus remained on the quiet presence sitting at the edge of your bed.

“You really should eat,” he said after a moment, his tone gentle. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”

You sighed, not turning to face him. “I’m just so done to even think about food. I wanted to go home really bad but we were outvoted.”

There was a pause before the bed shifted as Young-il stood up. His footsteps faded into the background, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the strange ache in your chest – a pang of something like abandonment. By him.

You immediately shook off the thought. It wasn’t his fault. You were the one adamant about not eating, and he had respected your decision. You had no right to feel upset, and you certainly couldn’t blame him for the fact that you had a crush on him.

Maybe he just saw you as a friend. Someone to look out for, like Jun-hee. Nothing more. It was your own fault for letting your feelings get in the way, for reading into his kind gestures as something more than they were.

You tried to tune out the chatter and bustle of the dormitory, sinking into the quiet within your mind. For a fleeting moment, you felt yourself drifting close to sleep.

Then his voice broke through the haze. “[Your name].”

Your eyes fluttered open, the sting of fatigue making them ache. You turned your head and saw Young-il standing by your bed. In his hands, he held the evening’s dinner: a round bun and a small carton of milk.

You frowned, confusion overtaking your grogginess. You had thought he left for good after respecting your persistence.

Resting your cheek against the pillow, you mumbled, “I don’t want to eat your dinner. Don’t worry about me.”

“It’s not mine,” he said, his tone even. “It’s yours.”

Your gaze shifted to the food in his hands. He held two sets of the dinner: two buns and two cartons of milk. Surprise overtook you as you sat up slowly, your blanket slipping down. “You got two?”

“I took another set on your behalf,” he admitted, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Your eyes widened. “We can do that?”

His smile grew, and there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We can’t.”

You blinked, completely perplexed. “Then how did you get two?”

He extended the dinner toward you again, waiting patiently.

“I know what to say to the guards. My line of work taught me how,” he said simply, leaving the specifics a mystery.

You stared at him, caught between disbelief and reluctant admiration, before reaching out to take the meal he had gone out of his way to bring you.

“Now, come,” Young-il said, gesturing toward the corner where you always hung out with Gi-hun and the others. “Let’s sit with the others.”

You glanced down at the bun and carton of milk in your hands before nodding. As you got up from the bed, you spoke to him, “But is this really all we’re getting for dinner? I thought it’d be as much as yesterday’s lunch.”

Walking side by side toward the corner, Young-il replied, “It’s a way to weaken the players and increase eliminations.”

You turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you saying the longer we stay here, the less food we’ll get?”

Young-il met your gaze, his expression thoughtful. “It looks that way. Yesterday, we had a bountiful lunch. Tonight, it’s just a bun. The pattern isn’t hard to see.”

You sighed in frustration, the weight of his words settling in. “That makes it even more important to leave this place as soon as possible.”

Reaching the corner, you were greeted enthusiastically by Dae-ho. “You two, come sit down!”

Gi-hun had sat at his usual spot at the far end, and you settled down beside him. Young-il took the place on your other side. Dae-ho and Jun-hee were already seated on the lower steps in front of you both, their postures relaxed.

You glanced around and noticed that your group was missing one member – Jung-bae. A small distance away, you spotted him tucked between the bunk beds as though he was deliberately hiding.

You assumed he felt guilty for voting O, isolating himself from the group out of shame.

You and Young-il began eating your buns in silence. Everyone in your group was eating, except for Gi-hun. His posture – legs wide, arms resting heavily on his knees – spoke volumes about his disappointment over the recent voting results.

A loud sigh from Dae-ho broke the quiet. He stared at Jung-bae’s back for a moment, chewing on his bun, before calling out to him with the familiar hyungnim honorific. “Jung-bae!”

Meanwhile, you sighed at the meager dinner, placing your left elbow on your knee and resting your forehead against your palm. Your right hand held the bun, and you murmured, “Just this bun alone won’t be enough.”

Dae-ho suddenly stood and strode over to Jung-bae. “Hey, just come back here.”

“No, no, I’m good here,” Jung-bae replied, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, come on,” Dae-ho said, grasping his arm firmly. He pulled Jung-bae to his feet and dragged him back to the group. “You should’ve gone farther away, then. It bugs me seeing you sitting there all pathetic.”

Jung-bae froze when they reached the group. His eyes darted between the three most visibly stressed members of the group – Gi-hun with his somber stance, you with your hand still resting on your face, and Young-il sitting with his legs spread, elbows on his knees, chewing silently. None of you looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” Jung-bae said, fidgeting nervously with his milk carton. “Jun-hee, [Your name], Young-il, I’m sorry. Gi-hun, I’m sorry.”

When no one responded, he continued. “I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I’ll be able to settle my debt. So-”

“Jung-bae,” Young-il interrupted, his tone calm. “You of all people shouldn’t have done it. It’s not twice as righteous.”

Young-il’s comment was a pointed reference to the meaning of Jung-bae’s name. You removed your hand from your face, took a bite of the bun, and stayed quiet.

Young-il sighed, glancing briefly at the others before adding, “But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted.”

“Right?” Jung-bae said quickly, leaning toward Young-il with a glimmer of relief. “It’s not entirely my fault.”

Dae-ho placed a hand on Jung-bae’s shoulder, his tone lighter now. “Alright, to be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn’t enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game.”

Jung-bae’s face lit up with sudden relief, and before anyone could react, he lunged forward and hugged Dae-ho head-on. Startled, Dae-ho awkwardly tried to push him away.

“You did?” Jung-bae exclaimed.

“I said I get it,” Dae-ho replied, finally managing to pry himself free.

Jung-bae turned to Young-il, sighing deeply.

“Thank you for understanding,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. He settled on the lower staircase next to Young-il and continued, “But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn’t we? If we stick together one more time, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

He turned toward Jun-hee, his voice brimming with confidence. “Jun-hee, I’ll make sure we survive the next game-”

“The next game?”

All of you froze and looked at Gi-hun. His tone was dark. “In the next game, we might have to kill each other.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. You stared at him, horrified. Could it really come to that? Could there be games where you’d have to compete against your friends? The thought made your stomach churn. You’d barely eaten, and now even the bun in your hand felt like a weight.

Young-il’s calm voice broke the silence. “Gi-hun, that’s a bit much. There’s nothing we can do now, so let’s try to stay positive.”

Despite his attempt to ease the tension, Jung-bae had gone pale as well. He swallowed nervously, his hands fidgeting with his milk carton.

Young-il continued, his voice steady, “We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again.”

But Gi-hun’s words lingered, casting a shadow over the group. Everyone, including you, sat in heavy silence, lost in their thoughts. The idea of being pitted against your teammates felt unbearable. Your appetite vanished completely, and the bun in your hand now seemed like an impossible task to finish.

Could Gi-hun have experienced such a game in his previous run? Had he been forced to turn on a friend here? The questions swirled in your mind, filling you with dread.

Then you felt it – a hand gently resting on your knee. Startled, you looked down and saw Young-il’s hand. When you glanced up at him, his expression was warm and reassuring. He gave you a small nod toward your unfinished bun and said softly, “Eat it whole. Let’s do our best again tomorrow.”

Young-il withdrew his hand from your knee and held out his milk carton to Jun-hee. “Here, Jun-hee. You can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game.”

Jun-hee hesitated. “No, it’s okay.”

“Take it,” Young-il insisted gently. “I don’t drink plain milk.”

After a moment, Jun-hee finally accepted the milk, though her reluctance was still evident. You couldn’t help but smile warmly at the gesture. The way Young-il looked after Jun-hee was heartwarming. He must’ve been a good husband, you thought.

“Thank you,” Jun-hee said softly.

Jung-bae suddenly held out his bun to her. “Have my bread too. I don’t deserve to eat.”

Dae-ho immediately pointed at Jung-bae’s milk. “I’ll take your milk then.”

Jung-bae shot him a pointed stare, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and annoyance.

You had just exited the women’s restrooms and stepped back into the dormitory when you saw them. Lingering near the door that connected the restroom to the dormitory stood Lee Min-jae and his two friends.

Min-jae noticed you immediately and waved. You hesitated for a moment before offering a small, uncertain wave in return. Hoping to avoid further interaction, you continued toward the corner where the rest of your group was seated.

However, your heart sank when Min-jae and his friends moved deliberately to block your path. The dormitory was vast, filled with hundreds of players, so you didn’t feel afraid. Still, you silently hoped they wouldn’t press you again.

Min-jae greeted you with a bright smile. “Hey there. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Oh,” you replied, feigning innocence. “Hi, Min-jae.”

He stepped slightly closer, his tone friendly. “So, are you free to hang out with us now? We’ve got a spot over there.”

He paused, gesturing vaguely toward a corner of the dormitory where his group had set up.

You hesitated, searching for a way out without offending him. “I… uh, I need to get back to my group first. They’re waiting for me.”

Min-jae’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a hint of frustration in his eyes. “It’ll just be for a little while. You can catch up with them later. Come on, I just want to get to know you better in a private spot.”

“I… I don’t know. I really should-”

Min-jae’s tone grew firmer, though he kept up his friendly demeanor. “Don’t be like that. Just for a bit. It’s just us hanging out. No harm, right?”

Min-jae’s friends were watching you intently, though their expressions remained neutral. You forced a polite smile, knowing that one wrong word or tone could create a vengeful enemy in this precarious game.

You said carefully. “Maybe later. I just need to check on my group first.”

But Min-jae’s grin didn’t waver. If anything, it grew more hardened and insistent as he stepped closer to you. “Please? Just a quick chat with us. You’ve been hanging out with those uncles all day. Switch it up for a bit.”

Before you could respond, one of his friends – the tall man with number 277 – joined in. “Yeah, come on. We’re not asking for much. Just a little time to get to know you better.”

“Exactly,” chimed in the other friend, player 304. “It’s not like we’re asking you to stay forever. Just stop by. We’ve got a good spot over there.”

Their persistence made your chest tighten. You forced another smile, trying to remain composed. “I appreciate the offer, but really, I need to get back. Maybe another time.”

“Why not now?” Min-jae pressed, his tone still friendly.

As you searched for another polite excuse, a cold, steady voice cut through the conversation.

“She said no.”

You turned quickly, your eyes landing on Young-il. He was striding toward you. His gaze was fixed on Min-jae, sharp and unyielding. Although his expression seemed calm, a quiet intensity simmered beneath the surface. The restrained fury in his eyes made you speechless. It’s like he was ready to act the moment it became necessary.

Min-jae’s smile faltered slightly, though he tried to recover. “Oh, hey. We just want to have a chat with her. It's okay, right?”

Young-il moved deliberately, stepping between you and Min-jae with an air of quiet authority. His back faced you, shielding you from them. Though his expression remained calm, there was a palpable edge to his presence that made the air feel heavier.

“You’re pressuring her,” he said evenly, his voice carrying a subtle warning. “That’s not how conversations work.”

Silence settled over the group like a heavy weight. Min-jae’s friends exchanged uncertain glances, their earlier confidence clearly shaken.

You couldn’t help but stare at Young-il’s broad shoulders, struck by the way he carried himself. He didn’t need to raise his voice or show aggression; the calm intensity in his posture spoke volumes.

Min-jae hesitated, his expression flickering between defiance and calculation, before forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. With a mock gesture of surrender, he raised his hands and said, “Alright, alright. I get it. I apologize. I didn’t realize I was being forceful.”

His attempt to glance past Young-il toward you betrayed his unease, though. He called your name softly, adding, “Sorry about that.”

Young-il held his gaze, the silence stretching as he stared at Min-jae with deliberate calm. Then, with a slight turn of his head, his expression softened as he looked at you. He gestured subtly, his voice steady. “Let’s go.”

You followed Young-il as he led the way back to the corner where your group had gathered. His stride was steady, and though he didn’t say anything, his presence alone made you feel a little more at ease. You glanced back briefly to check if Min-jae and his friends were following, but they were nowhere in sight, already lost in the dormitory’s usual buzz of activity.

Just as the two of you were about to reach your group, Young-il gently grasped your forearm, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

You nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you.”

His gaze lingered on you, his tone shifting slightly as he asked, “How does he know your name?”

There was an edge to his words, though it didn’t feel like it was directed at you.

“He asked during the voting earlier,” you explained simply. “We were in the crowd, and he came over and introduced himself.”

Young-il’s eyes studied yours, moving from your left eye to your right, then briefly to your lips. You froze under the intensity of his gaze, unsure of what to make of it. After a few seconds that felt much longer, his focus shifted back to your left eye.

He finally lowered his gaze and said firmly, “If those boys bother you again, tell me.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. His gesture sent a wave of warmth through you, and you felt that familiar flutter in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach. He is really worried about you.

But even as you stood there, you couldn’t forget the fact that he was married. As close as you two had become, he’d never once mentioned it to you.

You averted your gaze, creating a small but deliberate space between you and Young-il.

“Thanks, but don’t worry. I can take care of myself,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. The pause lingered, and though you didn’t look his way, you could feel his confusion, as if he was trying to make sense of your sudden distance. Without waiting for a reply, you joined the group, sliding into the spot next to Jun-hee. Behind you, Young-il remained standing, silent and likely still perplexed.

As the group fell into casual conversation, you focused on Jun-hee, Jung-bae and Dae-ho, purposefully keeping your interactions away from Young-il. Whenever he made a comment directed at you or tried to reassure you about something, you responded with a polite smile but didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, you turned your attention to someone else, engaging them in light talk to avoid any further connection.

This is for the best. For you, for him, and for his wife.

“Lights out in ten minutes,” the announcer informed, the voice echoing through the dormitory. “Please prepare for bedtime.”

Your group was in the middle of executing Gi-hun’s plan. The idea was to claim four beds in one spot to create a secure sleeping area underneath the beds and on the floor between them. Everyone had agreed to the plan, though not without a few questions.

The men were handling the heavier tasks, carrying and arranging the mattresses and securing the area, while you and Jun-hee carried pillows and blankets, standing off to the side as they worked.

“Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there,” Jung-bae said, his tone doubtful.

Gi-hun explained, “Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us.”

Dae-ho, crouching beside Jun-hee, looked over with wide eyes. “What? Who?”

Meanwhile, Young-il approached you and gestured for the pillows and blankets in your arms. You handed them to him one by one, watching as he placed them on the mattresses.

“The prize money still goes up if we kill each other,” Gi-hun continued. “It’s part of the game they designed.”

Young-il, now standing after arranging a mattress on the floor under one of the beds, spoke up, “Gi-hun, I think you’re overreacting. Even if that were true, people wouldn’t do that.”

Gi-hun’s gaze sharpened as he stared at Young-il. “In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here.”

He stepped closer to Young-il, his tone firm. “You have no idea how people can change in this place.”

You stared at them, noticing the tension in Gi-hun’s face and posture. Young-il paused before nodding apologetically. “Alright. I guess I didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m sorry.”

Gi-hun gave Young-il one last look before turning back to address the group. “We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out. I’ll take the first watch. The rest of you should decide the order.”

You exchanged glances with the others. Dae-ho was the first to speak up. “Other than that, we have to figure out who’s sleeping where.”

Jung-bae pointed to the floor between the beds. “Jun-hee should sleep here, near the wall, surrounded by beds. It’ll be safer.”

“Then I’ll take the spot under the bed beside her,” Dae-ho said, glancing at Jun-hee for confirmation. “If that’s okay with you.”

Jun-hee nodded. “I’m okay with that.”

“I’ll take the spot under the bed on the other side of Jun-hee,” Jung-bae added. “It’s best to have two ex-Marines covering your sides.”

Jun-hee smiled in response.

Young-il turned to you, his voice soft. “Which spot do you want to take?”

You paused, glancing at the arrangement before pointing to the space directly under Jun-hee. “I’ll take the middle floor.”

That left the beds on either side of you empty until Young-il spoke up. “I’ll sleep under the bed on your left. That means Gi-hun will take the one on your right.”

“Now we just have to decide the order for keeping watch,” Dae-ho said, looking around the group.

“I’ll take the second watch, after Gi-hun,” Jung-bae said quickly.

Dae-ho raised his hand. “Third watch here.”

You spoke up just as Young-il reached to grab the leftover pillows and blanket from your arms. “Can I keep watch too?”

All eyes turned to you, surprise clear on their faces.

“How about the last watch?” you added. “I can wake up early.”

Dae-ho was the first to respond. “Ladies don’t have to. You and Jun-hee should take a full rest.”

“Yeah, no need for you to worry about keeping watch,” Jung-bae chimed in. “We’ve got this.”

You hesitated, feeling their protective tone press against your resolve.

“But it’s fine if I take the last watch,” you said, lowering your gaze briefly. “I want to freshen up before the next game anyway.”

Dae-ho and Jung-bae exchanged glances, clearly about to argue, when Young-il’s calm voice cut through. “Okay, you take the last watch.”

Everyone turned to him in confusion, while you blinked at him in surprise. Young-il glanced at the others briefly before settling his gaze on you.

“I’ll take the fourth watch, after Dae-ho,” he said evenly. “Then it’s your turn. But I’ll keep watch with you. It’s not safe for you to do it alone.”

The group nodded in agreement and that was the end of discussion. You, however, stayed quiet, your thoughts swirling. Young-il’s calm decision left you unsettled. The idea of him accompanying you brought a flutter of nerves you couldn’t quite suppress. You’d been trying to create some distance, to remind yourself of his marriage. Yet here he was, volunteering to accompany you.

It left you torn. A part of you appreciated his thoughtfulness. But another part of you couldn’t shake the complicated feelings his actions stirred, leaving you wondering how you’d handle the quiet hours of your shared watch.

A few minutes passed as the six of you settled into your designated spots. The announcer’s voice broke through the murmurs in the dormitory to announce bedtime. Moments later, the lights switched off, leaving the soft golden glow of the half-filled piggy bank overhead to dimly illuminate the vast room.

Dae-ho and Jung-bae were already lying under the beds, while Jun-hee rested on the mattress positioned on the open floor between them.

“This sucks,” Jung-bae muttered from his spot. “Feels like I’m hiding under my old desk at school.”

Dae-ho chuckled softly. “Pretend it’s a fun sleepover. We’re just missing the snacks and ghost stories.”

As their quiet exchange continued, you glanced over and noticed Gi-hun was sitting at the front, keeping watch.

Then, you felt a presence close beside you. Turning your head, you saw Young-il crouched beside you on your mattress on the open floor. He paused, glancing at you apologetically as he moved to sit down.

“Sorry,” he muttered, referring to him intruding your space.

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

Young-il shifted onto the edge of your mattress before sliding onto his own spot under the bed beside you. You watched as he settled in before you finally lay down and pulled the blanket over yourself.

The space felt smaller now, the awareness of his presence lingering. You never thought you’d be this close to him, sharing such confined quarters. But as the thought crossed your mind, you pushed it away quickly. He’s married. You shouldn’t let yourself think about him like this.

You closed your eyes, wishing for sleep to come quickly and pull you away from your restless thoughts.

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mattsobvimyfav · 2 days ago

Text

neighbors (Matthew sturniolo)

pt 7

The morning sun streamed through the curtains as I stirred awake, the warmth of another body beside me pulling me out of my haze. My heart stopped when I realized it was Matt, his arm draped protectively around my waist, his face peaceful in sleep.

Panic coursed through me. What the fuck?

Slowly, carefully, I untangled myself from his hold, making sure not to wake him. His arm tightened for a brief moment before falling slack, and I slipped out of the bed, holding my breath.

Once I was free, I grabbed a hoodie from the back of a chair and pulled it on as I tiptoed toward the door. I paused for a moment, glancing back at him. He looked so… calm. Almost vulnerable. Shaking the thought away, I turned and hurried out of the room.

The second the door clicked shut, I bolted down the hallway, making a beeline for Charlie’s room. I didn’t even knock. I burst through the door, ready to vent—but what I saw stopped me in my tracks.

Charlie and Chris were curled up together, both stark naked under the covers. My jaw dropped, and without thinking, I stormed over and yanked the blanket off them.

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?” I yelled, my voice echoing off the walls.

Chris shot up, his eyes wide as he scrambled to grab a pillow to cover himself.

Charlie groaned dramatically, burying her face deeper into the mattress. “Too early for this,” she muttered, her voice muffled.

“Y/N!” Chris groaned, glaring at me. “Again? Really?”

“Someone tell me why the fuck I woke up laid up with Matt!” I demanded, crossing my arms and pacing in front of their bed.

Charlie peeked out from under her arm, her voice groggy. “You’re too loud.”

“What?” I snapped, my patience wearing thin.

She groaned again, flipping onto her side and propping herself up on her elbow. “Matt carried you to bed, duh.”

“Why?!” I demanded, throwing my hands up. “What even happened?”

Chris sighed heavily, flopping back down onto the bed and staring at the ceiling like he was summoning patience from another dimension. “You barged in here, again, while we were—”

“—mid-stroke,” Charlie added unhelpfully, grinning wickedly as she watched my face contort in laughter.

“CHARLIE!” Chris barked, shooting her a glare.

She just shrugged. “What? It’s true.”

“Oh my god I am so sorry, tell me the details later though. Okay, but what happened after I apparently ruined your nut bust?”

Charlie snorted. “Well, you cried about how Matt wouldn’t touch you, talked about how much you miss him whimpering under you, then flopped on our bed and passed out halfway through telling me about the TSA taking your rose toy.”

My face flushed instantly. “I… what?”

Chris sat up, propping himself on his elbows. “And since you were busy traumatizing us, I went out and told Matt to come deal with you because you clearly weren’t leaving until someone did.”

“Wait,” I said, blinking at him. “So Matt came back in here? Why?”

“To pick your drunk ass up and take you to bed,” Chris said flatly. “Which, by the way, you owe me for. I could have ignored you and stayed in bed, but nooo, I had to play hero.”

Charlie smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s just mad you walked in before he could make me finish.”

“CHARLIE!” Chris groaned, turning bright red.

I groaned too, my hands covering my face. “I don’t remember any of that, I remember telling him at the bar we could fuck on this trip.”

Charlie sat up fully now, her grin growing. “Oh, honey, that’s not even the best part. Apparently, you begged Matt to touch you all the way to your room.”

I froze, my stomach twisting. “No.”

“Oh, yeah,” Chris chimed in, his smirk matching Charlie’s. “You kept telling him how badly you wanted him and how the whole trip you’d been thinking about sleeping with him.”

“Stop,” I whispered, my face burning. “We’ve been here one day.”

“And you even said something about how he could replace your rose toy,” Charlie added, laughing now.

“STOP!” I wailed, burying my face in a pillow.

They both laughed for a moment longer before Charlie scooted closer, rubbing my back. “Relax, babe. Matt didn’t do anything. He just spooned you until you passed out. Honestly, kinda cute. He’s a gentleman.”

“Yeah,” Chris said, his tone suddenly serious. “He told me he wasn’t gonna take advantage of you. Said he’d wait until you were sober and clear-headed.”

I peeked out from behind the pillow, my heart doing a weird flip-flop in my chest. “He said that?”

Chris nodded. “Yeah. He’s mad at you for trying to use him, though but hes not an awful person. Said you’ve gotta figure your shit out before he’ll touch you again.”

I groaned, falling back onto the bed. “Why am I like this?”

Charlie laughed, flopping beside me. “Because you’re messy and chaotic, and we love you for it. But seriously, next time, just get a replacement rose toy before you start drinking.”

Chris stood up, ruffling his hair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go fix my morning wood, since someone ruined last night.”

“Okay at least make her cum this time” I groaned as I walked out.

After walking out of Charlie’s room, I found myself wandering back to my own. My heart raced as I cracked the door open, peeking inside. Matt was still in bed, sprawled out on his back, one arm draped over his stomach, the other resting beside him.

Without even thinking, I stepped in and quietly shut the door behind me. My pulse quickened as I approached the bed, climbing up and straddling his waist. Slowly, I leaned down and started pressing soft kisses along his neck, trailing my lips to the spot just beneath his jaw that I knew would stir him.

Matt stirred beneath me, a low groan escaping his lips as his eyes fluttered open. His hands instinctively came to rest on my hips, his voice husky and groggy.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he murmured, still half-asleep.

I leaned up, my eyes locking with his, my heart pounding but my voice steady. “I meant what I said last night at the bar.”

His eyes widened slightly as my words sunk in. “You’re serious?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and something else I couldn’t quite place.

“I am,” I replied firmly. “Just this trip, Matt. No strings, no expectations. When we get back home, it’s over. But here, I want this.”

He let out a shaky breath, his hands tightening slightly on my hips. “Y/N… you don’t know what you’re saying… don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” I whispered, leaning down again, brushing my lips against his ear. “Do you care about my boyfriend? We are on a break anyways”

Matt’s eyes darkened at my words, his jaw tightening. For a moment, I thought he might push me off, but instead, he let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

“No,” he murmured, his voice low and raspy. “I don’t care about your boyfriend. You know where home is.”

Before I could respond, Matt’s hands slid up to cradle my face, and he smashed his lips onto mine. The kiss was intense and unrelenting, sending a jolt of electricity through me. My fingers threaded into his hair as I pressed myself closer, matching his urgency.

His hands roamed down to my waist, tugging me against him as his tongue slipped past my lips. My heart was pounding so loudly I thought it might burst out of my chest. One of his hands crept beneath the hem of my shirt, as I grinded into him.

Just as he started to lift it higher, the door suddenly flew open.

“Well, well,” Chris’s voice broke through the haze, his tone dripping with amusement. “How does it feel to get interrupted, Matt?”

I tore myself away from Matt, both of us breathing heavily, my cheeks flaming as I whipped my head toward the doorway. Chris and Charlie stood there, arms crossed and grinning like they’d just won the lottery.

“Seriously?” I snapped, trying to compose myself as I tugged my shirt back down.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing. “Oh, don’t stop on our account. It’s just… payback feels so good.”

Matt groaned, dragging a hand down his face before shooting his brother a glare. “Get out,” he growled.

Chris let out a laugh, slapping the doorframe. “Alright, alright. We’re leaving. But man, this is gold. I’m telling Nick.”

“Don’t you dare!” Matt yelled after them, but they were already cackling as they disappeared down the hallway.

I flopped onto my back, staring at the ceiling and covering my face with my hands. “Kill me now,” I muttered.

Matt chuckled softly, leaning over me. “Well, that was...”

I peeked through my fingers, catching the amused glint in his eyes. Despite my embarrassment, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Next time, we'll lock the door.”

“Next time?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes, shoving him playfully. “Don’t push it, Matthew .”

Charlie and I were standing side by side in the bathroom, both of us running through our morning routines. She was blending her concealer while I curled the ends of my hair, the two of us talking about what we wanted to do for the day.

“Beach first, then maybe lunch at that little spot by the water,” Charlie suggested, adjusting her hair in the mirror.

“Sounds perfect,” I replied, reaching for my mascara.

The bathroom door opened suddenly, and Matt leaned against the frame, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Hey, Charlie,” he said casually, his eyes flickering toward me. “Can I borrow Y/N for a second?”

Charlie frowned, her gaze darting between us. “Um… sure, I guess.” She gave me a pointed look before shrugging and slipping out of the room.

I turned to Matt, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up—”

Before I could finish, he stepped closer, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck as he tilted my head up toward him. Without a word, he pressed his lips to mine in a kiss that left me breathless. It wasn’t rushed or desperate like the night before, but slow and deliberate, making my heart pound all the same.

When he pulled back, I blinked up at him, trying to process what just happened. “What was that for?” I asked.

Matt smirked, his thumb brushing against my jawline. “Just getting it all in before the trip’s over.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets again like nothing had happened. “See you out there,” he said over his shoulder before leaving the room.

I stood there, frozen, my lips still tingling from the kiss. A second later, Charlie peeked her head back in. “What the fuck was that about?”

I shook my head, snapping out of it and reaching for my brush like nothing had happened. “Nothing,” I said quickly. “Just Matt being Matt.”

Charlie squinted at me suspiciously but didn’t press it. “If you say so.”

I turned back to the mirror, trying to focus on finishing my hair, but my thoughts were consumed by Matt’s words—and the kiss that still lingered on my lips.

Once Charlie and I finished getting ready, we headed out to the living room, both of us feeling the anticipation of another perfect day in paradise. As soon as we walked in, Chris pulled Charlie toward the fireplace, grinning at something he whispered in her ear. She laughed, swatting his chest playfully before letting him guide her toward the fireplace area.

Meanwhile, I felt Matt’s hands find my hips, pulling me onto his lap on the couch. “Come here,” he murmured, his voice low as his lips found mine.

I didn’t resist. His hands gripped my waist as he deepened the kiss, his touch igniting a familiar heat. I was so caught up in the moment that I barely noticed the faint sound of a TikTok audio playing in the background. I figured it was Charlie and Chris scrolling through their saved sounds, as usual, and didn’t think much of it.

By the time we made it to the beach, the sun was high in the sky, and the sand was warm beneath our feet. We set up blankets and towels and Matt and I sat side by side, sharing a quiet moment as we looked out at the water.

It was peaceful—until all our phones started buzzing at once. I furrowed my brow, pulling mine out to see dozens of notifications lighting up the screen. Confused, I unlocked it and immediately saw the chaos.

“Are you seeing this?” Nick asked, holding up his phone.

Charlie and Chris had posted a TikTok an hour ago—a seemingly innocent montage of clips from our morning. But at the end of the video, there was a brief shot of Matt and me kissing on the couch in the background. It was subtle, but not subtle enough for fans to miss.

The comments were already flooded:

“WAIT WHAT???? Y/N AND MATT??????”

“Girl just had a boyfriend two weeks ago… yikes.”

“She’s the problem, clearly. Poor Matt.”

“Slut. Do better, Y/N.”

“Okay but why do I secretly ship it again?”

“Matt deserves better, tbh.”

My stomach churned as I scrolled through the reactions. Most were negative, accusing me of being unfaithful or jumping back to Matt too quickly. I felt my face flush, the weight of the judgment pressing down on me.

Charlie looked up from her phone, her face pale. “Oh my God, Y/N, I’m so sorry. We didn’t even realize—”

“It’s fine,” I muttered, though my voice was tight. “It’s not your fault.”

But their words echoed in my mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. The peaceful beach day I’d been looking forward to now felt tainted by the storm of online opinions.

The buzzing of my phone pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. I glanced down to see Leo’s name flashing on the screen, accompanied by a flood of text notifications.

“You should probably answer that,” Charlie said cautiously, watching me closely.

With a sigh, I hit the answer button and put it on speaker, figuring Charlie might as well hear this too. “Hello?”

The screaming started immediately.

“Are you serious right now, Y/N?!” Leonard’s voice boomed through the speaker. “You’re a fucking whore! What the hell is wrong with you?! Making out with your ex—and on TikTok no less? You’re embarrassing me, you know that?”

I froze, the words hitting me like a slap in the face.

Charlie’s jaw dropped as she sat up straighter, glaring at the phone. “What the fuck, Leo?” she muttered under her breath.

Before I could gather a response, Matt snatched the phone out of my hand. His jaw was clenched, his eyes burning with fury.

“Listen up, you piece of shit,” Matt growled into the phone, his voice low and venomous. “Don’t you ever talk to Y/N like that again. Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can call her names because you’re upset? Grow up and use your words like a big boy.”

“Stay out of this, Matt,” Leonard spat. “You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side since I met her. You ruined everything!”

“Oh, cry me a fucking river,” Matt shot back, his voice dripping with mockery. “Newsflash: if you were half the boyfriend you thought you were, she wouldn’t even be here with me. So, take your tantrum and shove it up your ass.”

Leonard stammered, clearly at a loss for words. “You—she—”

“She doesn’t owe you anything,” Matt cut him off sharply. “You don’t own her, and you sure as hell don’t get to scream at her like some entitled little brat. Grow the fuck up.”

Leonard’s voice was shaking now, either from rage or humiliation. “This isn’t over,” he hissed before hanging up abruptly.

Matt tossed the phone onto the blanket with a huff, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm down.

I stared at him, equal parts stunned and grateful. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said softly.

“Yeah, I did,” he replied, his tone softer now. “No one talks to you like that, Y/N. No one.”

Charlie nodded firmly. “He’s right. Even though you were on a break he had no right to speak to you like that. Fuck him.”

I let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the blanket. As much as Leo’s words had stung, Matt’s defense of me left an unexpected warmth in their place.

The sun was setting as we headed back to the house, the warmth of the day replaced by a cooler breeze. After hours on the beach, everyone was tired, but the plan was to regroup, clean up, and head out for dinner.

As soon as we got inside, Charlie grabbed my hand, pulling me toward my room. “We need to talk to him now,” she whispered.

I hesitated but nodded, grabbing my phone and dialing Leonard’s number. Charlie sat beside me on the bed, her hand on my knee for support as the line rang.

He picked up after a few seconds. “What do you want?” His tone was icy, his earlier rage still lingering.

“You wanted a break,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. “You told me to take time to figure things out, so how is this fair? How is any of this fair, Leonard?”

There was silence for a beat, and then he scoffed. “You figured things out by making out with your ex? That’s real classy, Y/N.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, muttering, “Oh my god.”

“That’s not the point,” I said, my voice firmer now. “You can’t just�� blow up on me when you’re the one who told me you needed space. I’m trying to respect what you asked for.”

“I’m coming to LA as soon as you get back,” he said abruptly, his tone sharp. “We’re going to talk about this in person. You owe me that much.”

I froze, panic creeping in as his words sank in. “Leonard—”

But he’d already hung up.

I stared at the phone in my hand, my chest tightening with fear and nerves. “What the hell?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Charlie frowned, pulling me into a hug. “That wasn’t okay,” she said softly. “You don’t owe him anything, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to deal with this,” I mumbled, my voice cracking as tears welled up in my eyes. “I don’t even know how to handle this. What if he actually comes? What if—”

The sound of the door creaking open made us both look up. Matt stood in the doorway, his brows furrowed in concern. “What happened?” he asked, his eyes flicking between the two of us.

“She called Leonard,” Charlie said quietly, rubbing my back as I tried to hold back my tears. “He’s being an ass. He said he’s coming to LA when we get back, and now she’s freaking out.”

Matt’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “He’s what?”

“He said he’s coming to LA,” Charlie repeated, glaring at the floor. “It’s just… too much.”

Matt crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. He gently reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’re not dealing with this alone, okay? If he shows up, I’ll handle it. You’re safe here. With us.”

I nodded, biting my lip as I wiped at my face. His words were comforting, but the knot in my stomach refused to untangle.

Once we finished getting ready for dinner, Charlie flopped onto my bed, smirking at her phone. “Okay, I have an idea,” she said, holding it up.

I raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

“You and Matt should make a TikTok,” she said casually, scrolling through sounds. “Just… clear some stuff up without actually explaining anything.”

Matt leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “What kind of TikTok?”

Charlie grinned, clicking on a sound. “This one.”

She played the audio: ‘Oops, got your girl, should’ve treated her right. Now she’s with real, she love it over here. Yeah, I love it over here!’

Matt snorted, looking at me. “You’re down for this?”

I hesitated but ultimately shrugged. “Why not? If it gets people off my back, sure.”

We set up my phone on the dresser and rehearsed it once before recording. Matt took the first line, pointing at the camera with his usual smirk: ‘Oops, got your girl, should’ve treated her right. Now she with a real, she love it over here.’

Then Matt turned around with me over his shoulder and I leaned closer and finished: ‘Yeah, I love it over here.’

We watched the playback a few times, laughing at how ridiculous it felt but my ass looked good. “Okay, it’s perfect,” Charlie declared, taking the phone. Matt grabbed it back before she could post anything.

“I got this,” he said, typing in a caption. A second later, he showed it to me: ‘She’s been single. And she knows where home is.’

My jaw dropped, and I lightly shoved his shoulder. “Really?”

He grinned. “What? It’s true.”

With a tap, he posted it, and within seconds, the notifications started rolling in.

Charlie and I sat on the couch, scrolling through the comments.

“Wait, they’re back together?!”

“Home? GIRL, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!”

“The way this is so messy, I love it.”

“Poor Leo, but Matt’s always been endgame.”

“Y/N a whole clown for going back to him 🙄.”

“She needs to stay away from him.”

“He don’t even want her he prolly just feel bad.”

Some comments were sweet, but others were downright brutal. Charlie nudged me with her elbow, giving me a reassuring smile. “Don’t let the haters get to you.”

I shrugged, leaning back into the couch. “Im the one fucking him, theyre just mad.”

Matt walked into the room, leaning over the back of the couch to peek at the screen. “Oh, yeah?” he said casually. “Wanna prove that to me later tonight?”

Charlie laughed and stood. “Alright before yall rip each other's clothes off, go put on something that’s not a T-shirt, and maybe we’ll believe you’re classy enough for dinner.”

Everyone was dressed and ready for dinner, piling out of the Airbnb earlier than planned so we could explore the area before eating. Nick had his vlogging camera out, already recording as we strolled down a cobblestone path lined with shops and palm trees.

Matt walked up to Nick showing the camera, a glass soda bottle. Without missing a beat, he tilted his head, clamped the bottle cap between his teeth, and popped it off effortlessly.

Chris froze mid-step, pointing at him dramatically. “Woah, he can do it with his mouth?!”

The group burst into laughter, and before I could stop myself, I smirked at the camera Nick was holding. “Trust me, he can do a lot with his mouth,” I quipped, throwing in a wink for good measure.

Nick immediately turned the camera to capture everyone’s reactions. Chris keeled over, laughing, while Charlie joined him.

“Y/N!” she laughed.

Matt, however, seemed unbothered. Instead, he just raised an eyebrow, smirking as he took a long sip from the bottle. “She's not wrong, She knows all about it” he smirked, making Chris and Nick howl louder.

Nick turned the camera back to me. “This vlog just got demonetized, thanks to Y/N!”

I shrugged, grinning. “What can I say? I like to brag”

As we strolled toward the restaurant, the golden glow of the setting sun bathed the streets. Chris had his arm slung over Charlie’s shoulders, their fingers intertwined as they walked hand in hand. Naturally, Matt grabbed my hand too, lacing our fingers together with a smirk that said he was trying to get a reaction out of me.

Nick had his camera out, panning from Charlie and Chris to us. “The happy couple…” he narrated dramatically, pausing before turning the lens toward me and Matt. “…And then there’s Matt and Y/N.”

The group erupted into laughter.

“Oh, fuck you, Nick,” I said, grinning as I playfully shoved his shoulder with my free hand.

Nick laughed harder. “What? I’m just saying what the people are thinking!”

Charlie wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “He’s not wrong.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at my lips. Matt, however, played along, pulling me closer and wrapping his free arm around my waist.

“Jealous, Nick?” Matt quipped, raising an eyebrow at the camera.

Nick gasped in mock offense. “Yeah, Y/n is sexy.”

“Fair,” I chimed in, earning another round of laughter.

The restaurant was tucked into a corner of the waterfront, its warm glow inviting as the waves lapped against the nearby docks. The host led us to a private outdoor patio strung with fairy lights, giving the space a magical ambiance. We slid into a large round table, Matt sitting beside me and Chris on Charlie’s other side, with Nick opposite us.

The night started lighthearted.

Nick had his camera set up discreetly on the table, catching candid moments of us all. “Okay, before we even order—best and worst moment of this trip so far. Go.”

Charlie grinned, leaning back in her chair. “Best moment? Definitely the beach yesterday. Worst moment? Trying to wrangle all your suitcases into the car at the airport.”

“You’re welcome,” Matt cut in, sipping his drink with a smirk.

Nick rolled his eyes. “What about you, Y/N?”

“Best moment?” I tilted my head, pretending to think. “Probably cock blocking Chris by accident… Twice.”

“Yeah fuck you big time for that.” Chris laughs. And Charlie nudges him.

When the server arrived, we placed our orders. Charlie and Chris shared appetizers, their playful banter a steady hum throughout the table. Nick teased Matt mercilessly, accusing him of only ordering steak to seem manly.

“Please, hell probably cut it with his teeth like the bottle earlier,” I joked, earning another round of laughter.

As the night went on, the jokes gave way to deeper conversations.

Chris shared a story about a prank he’d pulled on Charlie during one of their earlier dates in college, leaving her laughing so hard she nearly peed her pants. Nick talked about his upcoming projects and teased us about featuring heavily in his vlogs.

And then Matt turned to me, his voice softer as he leaned closer. “What about you? What’s been on your mind?”

Caught off guard, I hesitated before answering. “You.”

Matt nodded, his gaze lingering on me. “Can confidently say you’ve been on mine the past four years.”

As his words hung in the air, something inside me snapped. Four years. Four fucking years. My chest tightened, and I felt my heart pounding in a rhythm that matched the anger bubbling beneath the surface. He said it so easily, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it didn’t matter that he’d been living rent-free in my head for just as long—except, for me, it wasn’t some sweet little daydream. It was a goddamn battlefield.

How dare he? How fucking dare Matt think about me like that—like it was some wistful memory or a quiet longing—when he was the one who left me to pick up the pieces? When he was the one who wrecked me and walked away like it was nothing? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair for him to sit here, leaning closer, saying words that had no right to sound so soft, so genuine, when they came from him.

I stared at him, my jaw tightening as I fought to keep my expression steady, even though my mind was spiraling. I wanted to yell at him, to ask if he’d even considered what those four years had been like for me. Did he ever think about the nights I spent trying to forget him, trying to piece myself back together when he was the one who broke me in the first place?

And now he says this—like it’s supposed to mean something. Like it’s supposed to make up for everything.

I felt my nails dig into my palm beneath the table, grounding myself in the pain because it was better than the storm brewing inside me. This wasn’t reality. It couldn’t be. I’d told myself I wasn’t going to let him—or anyone—pull me back into that. Not after everything I’d done to move on, to be okay again.

But fuck, it felt good to hear it. And that’s what scared me the most.

I had to remind myself that this wasn’t real. That whatever moment we were living in now would dissolve the second this trip ended, and I promised myself I’d stick to that, no matter how good it feels now because he doesn’t deserve me that easily.

I swallowed hard, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. My voice was steady when I finally spoke, but there was no softness left in it. “Must’ve been nice,” I said, meeting his gaze with a sharpness I hoped would cut through him. “Thinking about me for four years. Too bad I didn’t get that time in real life, huh?”

Matt’s jaw tightened, and I could see the flash of surprise and frustration in his eyes as I threw the words at him. He leaned closer, closing the distance between us, his voice low and sharp as he spoke through gritted teeth. “Don’t do this now.”

Before I could respond, his hand gripped my thigh under the table—not hard, but firm enough to send a jolt through me. His touch burned, the contrast between his tense grip and the slow, almost absent-minded way his thumb started rubbing small circles against my leg making my head spin.

I glared at him, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I hissed, my voice low enough that no one around us could hear, but filled with the venom I couldn’t keep in anymore.

Matt’s other arm came around me then, pulling me closer, almost as if he were trying to shield me from something—or maybe himself. His grip on my thigh didn’t loosen, but his body pressed against mine, warm and steady even as tension radiated off him. His jaw clenched, and I could see the way his chest rose and fell, like he was trying to steady his breathing.

Matt’s grip on my thigh stayed firm, his thumb brushing slow, deliberate circles against my skin. His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, as he leaned in even closer. “Stop,” he said again, through gritted teeth. “Just… cut it out. Please.”

The word "please" hit me harder than anything else he’d said. It wasn’t just the frustration in his voice—it was the way it cracked slightly, like he was holding something back. It was enough to snuff out the fire in my chest, leaving behind a heavy ache that I couldn’t push away.

I didn’t fight him this time. I couldn’t. My shoulders sagged slightly, and I let my gaze fall to the table, avoiding his eyes. The weight of his hand on my thigh, the slow, steady rhythm of his thumb, and the warmth of his arm around me all worked together to chip away at my anger.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. But in that moment, I didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. So I stayed still, letting the tension hang between us like a fragile thread, waiting for it to snap.

By the time dessert came, the energy shifted back to playful despite me and matts moment of tension.

Nick ordered the largest slice of cake on the menu, claiming it was “for the table” but proceeding to eat most of it himself. Matt stole a bite, earning a loud protest from Nick, and Charlie and Chris were too wrapped up in their own world to notice.

As we left the restaurant, the night air was cool and refreshing. Charlie hooked her arm through mine as we walked back to the airbnb.

“This trip’s been pretty great so far,” she said quietly, glancing at me with a smile.

I nodded, my thoughts briefly flickering to Matt walking a few steps ahead, laughing at something Chris said. “Yeah,” I agreed. “It really has.”

When we walked up to the house, everyone dispersed quickly. Charlie and Chris headed for the kitchen, Nick grabbed his camera, and Matt… Matt grabbed my wrist as I tried to follow Charlie.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice hoarse. “Can we talk? Upstairs?”

I hesitated, the lump in my throat making it hard to answer, but I nodded.

Matt led the way, his steps heavy as he climbed the stairs. He didn’t say a word as he opened the door to his room, holding it for me before shutting it behind us. The click of the lock sent a shiver down my spine.

I stood awkwardly by the bed as he ran a hand through his hair, pacing a little before sitting heavily on the edge.

“Why do you keep doing this?” he finally asked, his voice cracking on the last word. He looked up at me, his eyes red-rimmed, and the sight made my stomach churn.

“Doing what?” I asked softly, though I already knew.

“This… this thing where you pull me in and then push me away,” he said, his hands gesturing helplessly. “Where you make me feel like maybe, just maybe, I didn’t fuck everything up, and then remind me that I did.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers fidgeting at my sides. “I’m not trying to—”

“Yes, you are!” he interrupted, his voice louder now. “You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t see the way you look at me, the way you let me touch you, like I still mean something to you? And then you say things like… like what you said at the bar. Like it’s just some vacation fling, like none of this matters.”

“Because it can’t matter, Matt!” I snapped, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions. “It can’t. Not after what you did.”

His face crumpled, and he pressed his palms to his eyes, his shoulders shaking. “I know I hurt you. I know I left. And I’ve spent every single day since then wishing I could take it back. But I can’t, Y/N. I can’t change what I did. All I can do is try to make it right, but you won’t let me.”

Tears blurred my vision as I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hold myself together. “You don’t get to just come back and act like everything’s fine. You left me, Matt. You broke me. And now you want me to forget all of that because you’re sorry? That’s not how it works.”

He stood abruptly, his chest heaving as he closed the space between us. “I’m not asking you to forget. I’m asking you to let me prove to you that I’m not the same guy who walked away. I’m asking you to give me a chance to fix this.”

I shook my head, a sob escaping my lips. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust you again.”

Matt’s face crumpled, and for the first time, I saw tears streaking down his cheeks. He reached out, hesitating before his hands landed gently on my shoulders. “Please,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please, Y/N. I don’t care if it takes years. I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as it takes because you’re it for me. You’ve always been it.”

His words broke something inside me, and before I could stop myself, I was crying harder, my hands clutching at his shirt as he pulled me into his arms. His sobs mixed with mine, and we stood there, holding onto each other like we were the only thing keeping the other from falling apart.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, The funny thing is I would have married you if you had stuck around.” I whispered into his chest.

“I’ll never stop trying.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @sturnsvelocity @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend

#matt sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #neighbor #sturniolo triplets

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mattyriddlesbitch · 2 days ago

Note

ive been sick like all week😭can i have fluff with enzo taking care of yn😭

ALSO HEYY ILY MWAH I HOPE UR HAVING A HAPPY HOLIDAY XOXO😘

Sorry for how long this took. I hope you're feeling better by now and you had a happy holidays too!

Nurse

Enzo Berkshire x Reader

Merlin, you felt awful. You were sick, your nose was all stuffed, you felt hot and cold at the same time, you kept coughing until your throat hurt. One of your friends took you to the infirmary to be seen by Madam Pomfrey after a coughing spell when you were on your way to breakfast. You insisted on going to classes, but your friend wasn’t having any of that.

You were only in the infirmary for about 15 minutes, waiting to be seen when the doors flew open. You looked over, the sound catching your attention, only to see your boyfriend Lorenzo rushing towards you.

“What happened? Are you okay? Pansy said she saw you going to the infirmary. What’s wrong?” He asked as he crouched in front of you, one hand cupping your cheek and the other grabbing your hand as he looked you over, like he was looking for any injuries.

“I’m fine.” You said, sighing softly at his touch, leaning your head into his hand.

“They’re sick.” Your friend said beside you. “Coughing and all that.”

“You should be in bed, sweetheart.” He said, looking back up to your face, his hand moving from your cheek to your forehead. “You’re burning.” He said softly, frowning.

“I’ll be fine.” You said, but even with those words, your voice was hoarse from all the coughing and your sore throat.

He was about to respond when Madam Pomfrey called you over. He stood up and offered you his hand, walking you over to her office, making you sit down in one of the chairs as he stood behind you, brushing your hair from your face.

The matron checked you over before giving you a vial of medicine, directing you to take it a few times a day and to go get some rest. Enzo helped you back to your dorm before forcing you out of your school uniform and into pajamas and back into bed.

“It’s like a furnace with all of this.” You gestured to all the blankets he threw over you.

“You gotta stay warm.” He said as he grabbed the vial Madam Pomfrey gave you and poured out the amount she recommended into a cup and offered it to you. You reluctantly took it and grimaced at the taste. You guessed even magic couldn’t make medicine taste good sometimes. “Go to sleep and I’ll get you some food when you wake up.” He said, taking the cup from you and setting it aside, sitting beside you on the bed and running his fingers through your hair.

“You should be in class.” You mumbled, getting comfortable under all the blankets.

“Not when my girl is sick.” He shook his head.

“You’re gonna get sick, too.”

“Then it’ll be your turn to nurse me back to health.” He mused with a small smile.

“I didn’t sign up for that.” You joked back, closing your eyes. He knew you had a weakness when it came to playing gently with your hair and used it to his advantage to get you back to sleep.

“I know you’ll do it anyways.”

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#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire fluff #enzo berkshire fluff #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire

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onebadassunicorn · 2 days ago

Text

All I Want Is You

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: pregnancy, premature delivery, fluff

word count: 1.3k

Taglist: @firefly-forest @salvatoresister1 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @batboyslutt @tiredsleepyhead

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

******

Chapter 9

Azriel POV

Y/n’s third pregnancy had been more difficult than they ever anticipated. The healer had warned them early on that this one would be harder on her body, that there were risks involved. But Y/n, his mate, ever fierce and full of hope, had insisted they could make it through.

Azriel had tried to stay optimistic for her sake, but deep down, fear gnawed at him. He saw how pale she’d become, how carrying the child sapped her energy more than her previous pregnancies. He stayed by her side constantly, his shadows curling protectively around her as if shielding her from the invisible threat.

But nothing could have prepared them for the night she went into labor far too early.

It began with a sharp pain that woke her from a restless sleep. She gasped, clutching her belly as Azriel bolted upright beside her. “Azriel,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Something’s wrong.”

His shadows flared around him as he moved quickly, helping her sit up. But when he saw the blood staining the sheets, his heart stopped.

“No,” he whispered, panic rising in his chest. “No, no, no.”

Her face was pale, her breathing shallow as she looked at him, fear flickering in her green eyes. “Azriel, the baby…”

He didn’t waste another second. He called for Madja immediately, his shadows flying out to summon her and the rest of the family.

Within moments, the room was a flurry of movement. Madja arrived, her calm but firm voice taking command of the situation. Y/n was placed on the bed, her breathing labored, the pain written all over her face.

“Azriel,” Madja said, her tone sharp but steady, “I need you to stay calm. This is going to be difficult, but I will do everything I can to save them both.”

Azriel nodded, though his hands trembled as he gripped Y/n’s. “I’m not leaving her,” he said fiercely.

She reached up, her hand weak but determined as she cupped his face. “I love you,” she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. “No matter what happens, I love you.”

“Don’t,” Azriel said, his voice breaking. “You’re going to be fine. Both of you. Do you hear me, baby? You’re going to be fine.”

The hours that followed were some of the longest of Azriel’s life. She fought through the pain, her cries breaking his heart as he held her hand, whispering reassurances that felt hollow even to him. Blood continued to seep from her, and Madja worked tirelessly to stabilize her.

When the baby finally came, her cries were faint but present—a tiny, fragile sound that made Azriel’s chest tighten.

“She’s so small,” Madja murmured as she wrapped the baby in a soft blanket. The tiny baby girl was barely the size of Azriel’s hand, her wings delicate and trembling as she let out another weak cry.

“Y/n,” Azriel whispered, his eyes flicking between his mate and their child. “She’s here.”

The baby was so small, so fragile, her wings delicate and trembling as she let out another weak cry. Azriel’s breath hitched as he looked at her.

“She’s early,” Madja said, her voice careful. “But she’s fighting.”

Azriel’s throat tightened as Madja placed the baby in his arms. She fit in his hands like she was made of glass, her dark curls already unruly, her green eyes, the same color as her mother's, fluttering open for a moment before closing again.

Y/n’s head turned weakly toward him, her eyes fluttering open as she tried to focus. “Let me… see her,” she whispered.

Madja hesitated for a moment before nodding and he brought her to Y/n’s side.

Azriel moved carefully to her side, lowering the baby so she could see. Y/n’s breath hitched as she reached out a trembling hand to touch their daughter’s tiny cheek.

“She’s beautiful,” Y/n murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

Azriel nodded, his gaze never leaving the tiny bundle in his arms. “She is,” he said softly. “She’s so small. She came so early, we haven’t even decided on a name yet.”

He glanced out the window then, where the faint, shifting hues of the aurora borealis shimmered across the night sky. It was rare to see it here, but tonight, the lights danced as if celebrating the arrival of their daughter.

“Aurora,” Azriel said suddenly, his voice steady despite the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “Her name is Aurora. For the light in the darkness.”

Y/n blinked, her tired eyes focusing on him. “Aurora,” she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue like a promise. A faint smile broke across her lips. “I love it.”

Azriel’s gaze softened, his hand brushing her hair back from her damp forehead. “Aurora,” he murmured again, his voice filled with reverence. “Our little light.”

********

Hours later, after Madja had stabilized Y/n and the baby, Azriel emerged from the bedroom, cradling Aurora in his arms. The family was gathered in the living room, their faces lined with worry.

“They’re okay,” Azriel said softly, his voice raw with relief. “Y/n and the baby… they’re both okay.”

The tension in the room broke instantly, Cassian letting out a relieved breath while holding a sleeping Azriella in his arms. Rhysand closed his eyes briefly in silent gratitude. Feyre swayed back and forth cuddling a sleepy Eryan in her arms and exchanged a tearful smile with Mor.

Azriel stepped closer, his shadows curling protectively around Aurora as he gently tilted her toward the others. “This is Aurora,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Our little light.”

The family gathered closer, their expressions softening as they took in the tiny baby. Her dark hair was already a mess of soft curls, her delicate wings trembling slightly, and her green eyes—so much like Y/n’s—blinked sleepily before closing again.

“She’s perfect,” Feyre said softly, resting her cheek on the top of Eryan’s head.

“She’s so small,” Mor murmured, her voice filled with wonder.

“But strong,” Cassian added, his grin softening as he looked at his brother. “Just like her mom.”

Azriel smiled faintly, his gaze never leaving Aurora. “She’s a fighter,” he said quietly. “She gets that from Y/n.”

Rhysand stepped forward, placing a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “She’s beautiful,” he said, his voice warm.

“She is,” Azriel replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

When Azriel returned to the bedroom, Y/n was awake, her face pale but her eyes bright as she looked at him. He climbed into bed carefully next to her, settling Aurora in her arms.

Y/n let out a soft sigh as she gazed at their daughter, her tears spilling over as she smiled. “Aurora,” she whispered, the name a soft promise.

“For the light in the darkness,” Azriel said softly, wrapping his arms around both of them.

Y/n leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. “She’s our miracle,” she murmured.

Azriel pressed a kiss to her hair, his voice steady despite the lingering fear in his chest. “You both are,” he said. “You and our children… you’re everything, baby. My whole world.”

Y/n smiled, her fingers brushing over Aurora’s tiny hand. “I love you,” she whispered, as she turned back to gaze at Azriel, her voice filled with quiet strength.

“And I love you,” Azriel replied, his lips brushing her temple.

As Aurora let out a soft sigh in her sleep, the three of them settled into the quiet peace of the moment, watching the soft glow of the aurora borealis outside.

The end.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel #azriel fluff

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dilfismz · 3 days ago

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gihun x reader fluff?? go crazy haha i dont have ideas 💗

Comfort in the Dark

Pairing: GiHun X reader

Warnings: Mentions of canon typical violence

The lights overhead flickered, casting long shadows over the room. The cold air felt heavier tonight, thicker somehow, as though the very walls of the dormitory knew the weight of what had happened. The violence, the betrayals, and the deaths from the day’s games still hung in the air like a thick fog.

You lay in your bunk, staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts running in circles. The fear from the tug-of-war game still clung to you. It was hard to sleep in a place like this, where every corner could hide danger and every creak of the floorboards could be the harbinger of something terrible.

You turned your head to the side, looking around the darkened room. Most of the players had already fallen into uneasy slumber, exhausted by the trials they’d endured. But you couldn’t sleep. Not yet. Your mind was racing, still haunted by the chaos and bloodshed of the day. What if something happened during the night? What if violence broke out in the dark? The thought of the games continuing even after hours of brutality made your stomach churn.

You tried to focus on the rhythmic sound of breathing around you, the only thing that kept the overwhelming fear at bay. But it didn’t help. The thought of being alone, vulnerable in the darkness, made your heart race. You needed comfort. You needed someone who understood. And there was one person who always seemed to make you feel just a little bit safer.

Gi-Hun

He was a familiar face in this nightmare, someone who had become a lifeline. You couldn’t explain it. He wasn’t the strongest, nor the most imposing player, but there was something about him that made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you could survive this together. He always knew when to give you a smile, when to say something to calm your nerves, even when he had none of his own.

You sighed, then quietly slid out of bed, careful not to wake anyone. The room was silent except for the occasional shuffle of a blanket or someone adjusting in their sleep. Moving quickly, you crossed the cold floor and approached his bed.

Gi-Hun was lying there, his body curled up in a ball, as if trying to shield himself from the weight of it all. But even from a distance, you could see the tension in his posture, the way his brow furrowed even in his sleep. The nightmare of the games never really left anyone, no matter how tired they were.

You hesitated for a moment, standing at the edge of his bed, before gently calling his name. “Gi-Hun…?”

His eyes fluttered open almost immediately, and when he saw you standing there, his expression softened. “What’s wrong?”

You bit your lip, suddenly self-conscious. It felt silly, asking him for comfort in the middle of all this chaos, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lie there in the dark any longer. “I… I can’t sleep. I’m afraid of what might happen tonight. The violence and everything. I don’t know… I just…” You trailed off, looking down at your feet, unsure of how to explain.

Gi-Hun sat up, his face filled with concern. Without saying a word, he shifted to one side of his bed, making room for you. “Come here,” he said softly. His voice, always warm, always kind, was a balm to your frayed nerves.

You didn’t hesitate this time. You climbed onto his bed, careful not to disturb the other players, and nestled against him, the heat of his body immediately comforting against your own. Gi-Hun wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in closer, offering you a sense of security you hadn’t known you needed until now.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of here,” he murmured, his voice gentle as he kissed the top of your head. “I’ll protect you. No matter what happens.”

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. The rhythmic sound, comforting and steady, gave you something to focus on other than the fear that had been gnawing at you. The tension in your body slowly began to ease, and you felt yourself relax into the warmth of his embrace.

For the first time in what felt like ages, you didn’t feel so alone.

“I’m scared, Gi-Hun,” you confessed quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep going like this.”

Gi-Hun’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as if to shield you from the world outside. “I know. I’m scared too. But you’re not alone. I’m right here with you. Always.”

You let out a small breath of relief, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye, though you quickly wiped it away before he could notice. His hand stroked your hair gently, soothing you further. There was something about him—his kindness, his unwavering compassion—that made everything seem just a little bit more bearable.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Gi-Hun continued softly, his voice full of sincerity. “I promise.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words sink deep into your chest. His promise, his presence, was a lifeline in this hellhole. It wasn’t much—there was no way to guarantee that the violence wouldn’t come, that the games wouldn’t continue—but somehow, with him next to you, you felt like you could face it all.

You weren’t alone. And for tonight, that was enough.

As the night deepened, and the sounds of the others’ uneasy breaths filled the room, you both lay there in silence. You felt his chest rise and fall steadily beneath you, and the tension in your own body began to melt away. Slowly, your breathing matched his, steady and calm, and before long, the weight of exhaustion took over.

Gi-Hun, sensing that you were finally drifting off to sleep, tucked you closer into his side. He kissed the top of your head one more time, his lips lingering there, before whispering into the quiet night.

“Sweet dreams. I’ve got you.”

And as you closed your eyes, the fear didn’t feel quite as heavy. With Gi-Hun beside you, holding you, there was a fleeting sense of peace. It wouldn’t last forever. You knew that. But for now, in this fleeting moment, you found comfort in the dark, knowing you weren’t alone.

#x reader #squid game 2 #squid game #fluff #seong gihun #gi hun x reader #lovehisfluffyhair #misshislonghair

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cailinsblog · 1 day ago

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Caring for You | macklin Celebrini

Macklin celebrini x reader

So for some reason it won’t let me put any of my new story’s to my masterlist so I’m sorry about that🙏🏻🙏🏻

Y/N sniffled miserably from her spot on the couch, bundled up in a mountain of blankets. A box of tissues sat beside her, along with an untouched cup of tea Macklin had made before he left for practice. She felt like a total mess—her nose was red, her throat was sore, and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

It had started with a tickle in her throat a couple of days ago, but she’d brushed it off. Now, it was a full-blown cold, and all she wanted was to sleep it off and hope Macklin wouldn’t fuss too much when he got home.

But, of course, Macklin did fuss.

The sound of the front door opening pulled Y/N from her groggy haze. Macklin stepped inside, his hockey bag slung over his shoulder and his cheeks still pink from the cold outside. His smile immediately turned into a look of concern when he saw her curled up on the couch, looking pale and tired.

“Y/N?” he asked, dropping his bag by the door and rushing over to her. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she croaked, her voice hoarse.

He crouched down beside her, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re burning up! Why didn’t you call me? You should’ve told me you were feeling this bad!”

“It’s just a cold, Mack,” she said, offering a weak smile. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” he repeated, his brows knitting together. “You’re never a bother, Y/N. I don’t care if I’m on the ice or on the moon—you call me if you need anything, okay?”

Before she could protest, Macklin stood up, determination in his eyes. “Alright, first things first. You’re staying right here. I’m going to take care of you.”

“Mack, you really don’t have to—”

“I do have to,” he insisted, already heading toward the kitchen. “You’re my girlfriend, and I’m not letting you suffer alone.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile despite how awful she felt. Macklin was always so thoughtful, and she knew there was no stopping him when he got into caretaker mode.

He returned a few minutes later with a tray holding a fresh cup of tea, a bowl of soup he’d quickly heated up, and a cold compress. “Here we go,” he said, setting the tray down on the coffee table. “Tea to soothe your throat, soup to help you feel better, and this,”—he gently placed the compress on her forehead—“to bring down your fever.”

Y/N reached for the tea, but Macklin beat her to it, carefully holding the cup to her lips. “Let me,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to spill it on yourself.”

She took a small sip, the warmth soothing her scratchy throat. “You’re too good to me, Mack,” she murmured.

“You deserve it,” he said simply, sitting down beside her and tucking the blankets more snugly around her.

The rest of the afternoon passed with Macklin fussing over her like a mother hen. He kept her hydrated, made sure she took her medicine, and even queued up her favorite rom-coms to distract her. At one point, he disappeared into the bedroom and came back wearing his favorite oversized hoodie—the one she always stole.

“What are you doing?” she asked, laughing weakly.

“Sacrificing my hoodie to the cause,” he said dramatically, pulling it off and helping her into it. “This is scientifically proven to make you feel better.”

“You’re such a dork,” she said, her voice thick with affection.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” he replied, kissing her temple.

As the evening wore on, Y/N started to feel a little better, thanks to Macklin’s TLC. He sat beside her on the couch, her head resting on his chest as he absentmindedly stroked her hair.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” she said softly, looking up at him.

Macklin shook his head, his eyes filled with sincerity. “Y/N, I’ll always take care of you. That’s what you do when you love someone.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she reached up to cup his cheek. “I love you, Mack.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I love you more.”

The two of them stayed like that for the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. And while Y/N still had a ways to go before she was fully recovered, she knew she’d never felt more cared for or loved in her life.

#hockey #nhl #nhl x reader #fanfic #macklin celebrini #macklin celebrini x reader #san jose sharks #san jose #nhl imagine #nhl x y/n #nhl x oc #nhl x you #macklin celebrini x oc

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faithshouseofsmut · 2 days ago

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Yes yes yes yes to incubus Seb!!! I love the concept so much!!!

I live the concept of incubus Sebastian so much and if I wasn’t a broke bitch I’d pay one of my artists friends for a drawing of him.

I was thinking about Red Bull era Seb as incubus Seb because the vibes are there. And as for appearance he has large black leathery wings, horns, a tail, fangs and his hands are black with black vines that stop before his elbows.

Seb also has an enchanted ring that alters his appearance so he can fit in with the rest of the population.

She was worth it||Incubus!Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader

Word count— 1024

A/n — this was posted to my old account that was deleted

Sebastian walked through the house with quiet practiced precession like he’s done a thousand times before…because he has. Smirking to himself he reaches out for the doorknob that leads into her bedroom. He shouldn’t be here but he didn’t care. It was dark. The only source of sound that filled the room came from her sleeping form and the clock on the wall.

Slowly he walked to the side of the bed that she was laying on. Her lips were slightly parted as light snores escaped her lips.

“Let me out,” the voice in his head said.

Sebastian rolled his eyes at the voice and his incubus rolled his eyes as he responded.

“You know a please wouldn’t hurt,” he said in his mind.

More anticipating silence rang out in the room

“Let me out please,” his incubus says begrudgingly.

“As you wish,” Sebastian says, taking the specially engraved ring off his index finger and sliding it into his pocket.

Smoke enveloped his body, he closed his eyes and sighed feeling his body transforming into his true form, not the human one he paraded around as an imposter among the humans. But then again not many humans knew that their favorite Formula One driver was a monster.

As Sebastian opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was his reflection staring back at him in the mirror. There he stood, embodying his true form—a sight that was both striking and mesmerizing. The tips of his elegantly curved horns jutted out from his golden blonde hair, the contrast creating an almost ethereal quality. His forearms were cloaked in a deep, lustrous black that extended up to his elbows, giving him an air of mysterious power.

Behind him, his tail playfully swished a fluid motion that hinted at mischief and agility. It moved with a life of its own, complementing the rest of his features. Most prominent were his magnificent black leathery wings, which spread wide and strong, showcasing their sheer size and strength as they unfolded in a display of glory. Each wing was intricately textured, shimmering slightly in the soft light, creating an imposing yet captivating silhouette. In that moment, Sebastian felt a profound sense of acceptance for who he truly was, a feeling that enveloped him just as much as his wings did.

Once again slowly but steadily Sebastian reached out for the blanket that covered sleeping form and pulled it back onto the end of her bed stilling as she stirred in her sleep.

Sebastian could hear the way her heart pounding in her chest as a quiet moan escaped her lips. Crouching down Sebastian reaches out placing two fingers on her temple lulling her into a deeper slumber.

Y/n smiled in her sleep rolling onto her back the action causing her shirt to rise giving Sebastian a nice view of the wet patch that was growing in her panties. Sebastian groaned at the sight, wanting nothing more than to shove his face between her thighs and lap up everything she had to offer.

Sebastian clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain still despite the primal urge burning through him. His claws flexed, momentarily digging into his palms as he stared down at her, fighting the dangerous pull that thrummed in his chest.

“Control yourself,” he whispered harshly, though it was more for his benefit than anyone else’s. His incubus chuckled darkly in the back of his mind, a sound full of amusement and hunger.

“You know why you’re here,” the voice taunted. “Stop pretending this is anything other than what we both want.”

Sebastian exhaled sharply, his wings giving a slight twitch in frustration. He hated how much power his darker half held over him, how easily the incubus could stir his desires. But he also couldn’t deny the truth: he did want her. He always had.

For weeks now, she’d been invading his thoughts, her scent lingering in his mind long after she’d left the room. The way her laughter would light up the air, the subtle sway of her hips, the softness in her eyes—every part of her called to him, an irresistible melody he couldn’t ignore.

But this was crossing a line, even for him. She was vulnerable, asleep, utterly unaware of the monster standing at her bedside. His throat tightened as he wrestled with himself, the battle between his humanity and his true nature raging within.

“Just a taste,” the voice whispered. “She’ll never know.”

Sebastian growled lowly, his glowing amber eyes narrowing.

“No,” he snapped, his voice firm despite the ache in his chest. “Not like this.”

The incubus sneered. “You’re pathetic. Do you really think you can keep denying yourself of her? She’s already yours—you just have to take her.”

Sebastian shook his head, his hand curling into a fist as he stepped back from the bed. He couldn’t. Not this way. Not when she deserved so much more than the beast clawing at him from within.

“I’ll wait,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. “Until she chooses me. Until she wants me.”

The incubus fell silent, retreating into the recesses of his mind with a dissatisfied grumble.

Sebastian stood there for a moment longer, his wings drooping slightly as the tension began to ease from his body. He let his gaze linger on her one last time, taking in the serene expression on her face, the way her hair splayed out across the pillow like a halo.

“You’ll be mine,” he whispered, his voice softer now, filled with a mixture of longing and determination. “But only when you want to be.”

With a final glance, he turned away, his wings folding neatly behind him as he slid the ring back onto his finger. Smoke swirled around him once more, and in seconds, the imposing figure of the incubus was gone, replaced by the human mask he wore so effortlessly.

Quietly, Sebastian slipped out of her room, his footsteps as silent as they had been when he entered. But as he closed the door behind him, a small smile tugged at his lips.

Patience, he told himself. She was worth it.

#f1 smut #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #formula one x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #formula one x y/n #f1 one shot #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel one shot #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel

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mikuluvu · 2 days ago

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can you do Janitor!Jimmy and Nurse!Reader like they're both bullied by Anya Daisuke and Curly most of the time and they comfort eachother by midnight talks and tending eachothers wounds

A/n: This is the second time... Whats with the bullying stuff guys 😭 but I'll do these just to make you guys full and happy , mouthwash rlly did a great job 😦 but srsly i hope ur ok -

Janitor!Jimmy x Nurse!Reader

The Tulpar was always quiet at midnight.

Jimmy leaned against the rusted railing outside the medbay, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His jumpsuit was stained with grease and blood—some his, some not. He’d learned to stop distinguishing between the two.

“You shouldn’t be smoking in here,” you said softly as you stepped out, clutching a first aid kit. Your uniform was crumpled, a dark stain smearing the corner of your sleeve where someone had grabbed you too hard earlier.

Jimmy exhaled a thin stream of smoke, his tired eyes flicking to you. “Don’t worry, Pretty sure a second-hand smoke’s the least of our problems.”

You sighed and set the kit down on a crate beside him. “Let me see.”

“See what?”

“The cut on your cheek. I noticed it earlier when Curly shoved you out of the cockpit.”

Jimmy flinched at the memory, his jaw tightening. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” you said firmly, stepping closer. “Please.”

After a long silence, Jimmy flicked the cigarette away and tilted his head slightly, letting you inspect the angry red gash on his cheekbone. Your touch was gentle, your hands steady even though your sleeves still trembled with exhaustion.

“Rough day?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You gave him a weak smile. “They cornered me again during lunch. Anya said I’m ‘useless dead weight.’ Daisuke laughed. Curly... just watched.”

Jimmy’s lips pressed into a thin line. “They’re all bastards.”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that—him leaning against the railing, you carefully dabbing antiseptic onto his wound. It stung, but Jimmy didn’t flinch.

“Why do you think they do it?” you asked quietly.

Jimmy let out a breathless laugh, dry and bitter. “Because they’re scared. Weak people hurt others so they don’t feel weak themselves. It’s pathetic.”

You nodded, your fingers lingering against his skin before pulling back. “All done.”

Jimmy studied you, his tired eyes softer now. “You should get some sleep.”

You gave a faint shake of your head. “Could say the same to you"

His lips twitched into a ghost of a smile.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing the first aid kit and motioning with your head. “Let’s go to the storage bay. There’s an old blanket and a broken radio. Better than sitting out here.”

Jimmy hesitated before falling into step beside you. The Tulpar was dark as you walked together, your footsteps echoing through empty corridors.

The storage bay was cluttered with crates and dimly lit by a single flickering lightbulb. You dropped the first aid kit onto an overturned box and sat down on an old blanket spread over cold metal. Jimmy lowered himself beside you with a heavy sigh.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You just sat there, side by side, sharing the same fragile silence.

“You ever think about leaving?” Jimmy asked suddenly, his voice low.

“Leaving the Tulpar?” you asked.

“Yeah. Getting away from all this. Away from them.”

You thought about it—the idea of escaping, of breathing fresh air, of seeing sunlight instead of flickering LEDs. “Sometimes. But where would we go?”

“Anywhere but here,” Jimmy said, his voice cracking slightly.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, your exhaustion outweighing your hesitation. “If we ever get out of this... we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Jimmy froze for a moment before relaxing under your touch. His voice was barely above a whisper when he replied, “Yeah... together.”

Outside the storage bay, Curly barked orders while Anya and Daisuke laughed at someone else’s expense. But in this small corner of the ship, beneath the flickering light, you both just sat there together...

THNKS FOR READING!! REBLOGS W/COMMENTS IS APPRECIATED !! YOU CAN SUPPORT ME THROUGH MY KO-FI

#mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #mouthwashing angst #anya mouthwashing #jimmy x reader #x reader

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joelsprettyprincess · 22 hours ago

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Taming of the Shrew - Part 2

Pairing: dark!Arthur Morgan x f!reader Summary: Although you've ended your relationship with Arthur, he gets you to agree to one final rendezvous. Series-wide tags: Toxic relationships, manipulation, obsessive behavior, smut, secretly unprotected piv, babytrapping, pregnancy, canon-typical violence, slight canon-typical misogyny. Wordcount: 3.7k A/N: I was not expecting that much love on part 1! I'm so glad yall enjoyed! Here's part 2 and where things get juicy 🤭. And before you ask, yes they had condoms in 1899!! They just weren't very good.. Also, I do not profess to be an expert on pregnancy, I just looked things up and hoped for the best. 😭 Sorry if anything's inaccurate. This chapter contains smut. And as always MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Tags: @dandelion-ranch @i-will-give-you-love @amaranth-writing @heloixe @buneio @warmsideofthepillow03 @thoughts-of-bear @luzzbuzz

Part 1 Part 3

Several days had passed since you told Arthur to never speak to you again.

You didn’t mean it. You couldn’t have. Your love, though short, had burned like a phoenix: though it was currently snuffed, Arthur knew it would soon rise again.

He knew better than to approach you again, though. So he wrote a letter.

My love.

My darling, my princess. I am in pain while writing this. Not because of any physical injury, but because I miss you badly indeed. My heart burns for you, for your touch, your skin on mine, even just one last time.

I am certain you feel the same way. If you do, please meet me at our spot near Ringneck Creek at noon next Monday.

I swear this will be the last time I will contact you. If you don’t show, I’ll know your decision is final. However I know you will. I know our love was something real. Please don’t make a fool of me.

Forever yours,

Arthur

Arthur posted the letter on a Monday, giving you nearly a full week to make a decision. He was on edge after that, wondering if you would actually show. Would you bring your father, or even a bounty hunter, to capture him? Or would you just not show at all?

Thankfully most everyone in camp left him alone; the news of your loud departure had spread fast. There was the occasional ribbing from Micah, but he was like a mosquito buzzing in everyone’s face. Arthur paid him no mind.

Dutch told him it was a waste of time.

“Women are a complete mystery, son,” he told him Sunday night, puffing on his cigar. “Trust me, you’re better off being single forever.” He didn’t seem to care that Molly was behind him in the tent, hopefully sleeping.

But he didn’t know the inner workings of Arthur’s mind. Didn’t know what he planned to do.

Monday morning, he bathed and trimmed his beard. As much as he hated to admit it, Arthur was nervous.

He scoffed. Headshotting O’Driscolls barely raised his heart rate, but the thought of seeing you again had him jumpy like that Kieran boy.

Arthur rode over to the spot early. It was a good isolated spot a little ways away from the creek, where you two had slept together a couple times.

He spread down a blanket and cleaned his guns while he waited for you.

About half an hour later, he heard the crunching of leaves and turned around. Your familiar form entered his field of vision; suddenly, Arthur was breathless.

You were here. You’d actually come. And you appeared to be alone.

You hitched your horse next to his, then came down to the blanket. “Hey,” you said, smiling softly.

“Yes, well.” You smoothed your skirts. “Just can’t help m’self, I suppose. But listen, Arthur…this is the last time I’m seeing you. Seriously. I don’t even know why I came here–”

Arthur pulled you down beside him. “You came.” He cleared his throat. “I knew you would.”

“Alright, shh,” Arthur interrupted, taking your hand in his and softly pressing his lips to yours.

“Mm,” you sighed, immediately melting into his touch. He might be rough around the edges, but Arthur surely knew how to treat a woman. You’d already forgotten what you were gabbing on about.

Arthur wasted no time in deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue past your lips. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, one hand cupping your cheek and the other on your hip.

You spent a few minutes exploring each other’s mouths and letting your hands wander. Eventually your positions shifted so Arthur was nearly laying on top of you. He spoke again.

“Come back,” he whispered. “I can’t live without you.”

That voice. It was sweet as honey. It made you want to follow him to the ends of the earth.

You avoided his gaze, pursing your slightly swollen, glazed lips. “Arthur, I can’t–”

“You love the bloodshed,” he spoke in your ear. His hand went under your skirt and ghosted over your bloomers. “You crave it. Stop actin’ like you don’t.”

“No–”

Arthur silenced you with another kiss, capturing your lips and claiming them as his, as he had done so many times before. Yet it never got old; the lusty looks and burning touches lit you on fire.

You whimpered as he slipped his hand inside your bloomers.

“We both know this doesn’t lie,” he murmured, barely grazing your folds. He kept his bright eyes steadily focused on you while he used just one finger to tease you.

A quiet moan escaped your lips.

Arthur seemed eager to get on with it. He lifted your skirt and removed your underthings, carefully setting them beside you on the blanket.

“Did my pretty girl miss me?” he breathed, massaging your thighs. You whined just a little, already anticipating his touch.

Arthur traced your bare cunt, enjoying watching you squirm.

“Arthur,” you whispered in a choked voice.

He shucked off his pants, then laid down between your legs.

Arthur was gentleman enough to service you first. He put your legs on either side of his face, and breathed in the natural scent of your pussy, again barely grazing the already soaked lips with his finger.

“S-Stop teasing me, dammit,” you moaned. He smiled. It was almost fun to see how quickly he could get you to come undone, begging for his touch.

Arthur started with small licks on the inner parts of your thighs. Your legs immediately tried to come together, but he held them apart and kept licking. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to stay still.

He traveled up your thighs and paused just before he got to your cunt. Taking two fingers, Arthur spread your lips apart, marveling at the amount of slick already coating your entrance.

“Ah- ah, d-don’t- mmgh,” you cried. His touch was so depraved and satisfying.

Arthur dove in, pushing his tongue into your warm, sticky entrance. He gripped your thighs with his hands and held them up as he fully ate you out. He got messy with it very quickly, suckling on everything he could get a hold of.

You cried out and gripped his hair hard, bucking your hips. This kind of pleasure was completely unheard of and forbidden for girls like you, and that made it all the more filthy. You loved it. You loved every second of it. No man had ever touched you like this before, and you doubted any man ever would.

He removed his mouth for a second and rubbed circles around your sweet spot. “You’re lovin’ it, aren’t you, sweet girl?”

You breathed in and out loudly. “Yes,” you whined shamelessly.

Arthur pushed his tongue back in, appreciating how your walls tightened around him. He swore he could feel your heartbeat, pulsing in time with his.

You grinded against his face, spreading your juices everywhere, going crazy at the lewd noises being produced.

“Arthur– oh, Arthur, yes, please–”

You were getting close. It never took long for you to cum, but apparently you were touch starved right now.

Abruptly, Arthur pulled back from your pussy, breathing heavily and licking his lips.

You panted too. “Why’d you stop?”

He paused, then quickly pulled off his boxers. Oh.

Arthur pushed you down again and rubbed his girthy, veiny cock up and down your soaked pussy.

The thick mushroom head was poking at your entrance, and you wanted to let him in, but…

“Do you have…protection?” you whispered.

He nodded. “Course.” He pulled a condom packet out of his pants pocket. A primitive thing, to be sure, but it was part of the plan.

Arthur pulled it on, then nosed his tip so it was just breaching your entrance. You sighed loudly, spreading your legs a bit more.

He pushed in. A creamy noise was produced, but even louder was your pained moan. It was a stretch to fit him in, even when he had prepped you first.

This was only the second time he’d gone all the way like this. There was no reliable way of avoiding pregnancy, so you simply didn’t allow him to do it. But this was a special occasion. After this, you were done with each other, forever.

Arthur sighed and pushed into you even further, watching your pussy lips greedily suck in his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured. “Letting me in so nicely.”

He started to thrust in and out slowly. You threw your head back and panted, whining loudly and mumbling his name.

His cock repeatedly filled you to the brim and you squeezed your tight walls around him. Your juices quickly coated the condom, allowing him to more easily push the rest of his cock in.

Soon he was pushing in and out, all the way to the burst of hair at his base. Arthur groaned lowly, biting your shoulder and holding onto your hips with his big hands, kneading your ass.

After a few minutes of bliss, he shifted positions; Arthur pressed your legs almost to your chest and held them there, hitting deeper and deeper into your sticky cunt.

You moaned loudly, finding his hair again and holding it tightly. His full balls slapped against your ass.

“Like that?” he muttered. “You like that, you uppity little–” He groaned loudly, going faster and rougher.

“Arthur, Arthur,” you sobbed, curling your toes. “Please, I’m g-gonna–”

With a muffled cry, you came undone on his cock, toes curling, legs shaking, cunt spasming and letting out more of your juices all over his cock and the blanket.

“That’s right, let it out, sweetheart,” he gasped. “I’m close too, baby, shit–”

Arthur pressed himself into you and stilled, panting, eyes tightly shut. You could feel his cock twitching as he rode out his orgasm in your soaked through cunt.

His lips collided with yours in a sloppy, desperate kiss, and he slowly thrusted a couple more times before pulling out.

The condom was smeared in your juices.

Arthur sighed. “Hopefully it didn’t break. I tried to get a good one.”

You chuckled nervously. “Hopefully not.”

He helped you clean up, wiping you down and putting your clothes back on. You hoped his smell (it wasn’t a bad one, just distinct) wouldn’t cling to your clothes.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” you told him as you prepared to remount your horse. “But if you ever decide to stop being an outlaw…you know where to find me.”

“I love you,” Arthur said simply.

You flushed, and looked away.

“Goodbye, Arthur.”

You rode off.

Arthur waited till you were out of sight to smile.

You were really gullible. A condom, seriously? Even pulling out was more reliable. These things broke more easily than a cheap lock. Even if it hadn’t, he’d cut a small hole into the tip that ensured he’d painted your walls white. If it dripped out, you would probably just assume it to be your own juices.

Now it was just a waiting game.

Two months later.

Your maid, Elisabeth, stared at you frightfully as you bent over a bucket for the 3rd time this week, vomiting horribly. You breathed heavily, then vomited again. There was nothing even in your stomach, which made it so much worse.

“Are you alright, ma’am?’ she squeaked, standing by with a towel.

You were too nauseous to answer. You clutched your stomach, head spinning and mind racing.

Your stomach had been in shambles this week and the last, and it was getting concerning.

After a few labored breaths, you grabbed the towel and wiped off your mouth. “Let's visit the doctor.”

Elisabeth gave you some cool water to sip, which helped a bit but not much. You could hardly stand to get on the carriage, and then it was like you were on a merry-go-round with the way it was hitting every bump in the road.

You leaned over the side and emptied your stomach yet again.

It was possible this sickness had a terrifying explanation, one that you couldn't even begin to imagine. Lord, protect me, you prayed despairingly.

One agonizingly slow and nauseating ride later, you pulled up next to the doctor's office. Elisabeth had to coax you down, and she was clearly scared you would projectile vomit on her. The world was swimming around you and had a hazy feel.

You stumbled into the office and leaned against the cool wall.

“You alright, ma'am?” a voice asked. It was Dr. Williams, an older gentleman who'd been in Rhodes for years.

“I-I think I have a fever,” you whispered, fanning yourself. “Been throwing up everywhere.”

He quickly escorted you to a room in the back, and you collapsed into the chair.

Dr. Williams examined you, looking inside your mouth and pressing various points on your body.

“Any symptoms besides vomiting?” he inquired.

You shook your head. “Don't believe so.”

“When did they start?”

“I'd say…maybe two weeks ago.”

He hummed and thought for a bit while examining you. “Is there a chance you could be with child?”

You started, then stopped, then froze.

No…

“Err,” you stuttered.

He waited for your answer.

“I-I-...well, I suppose it ain't impossible,” you admitted fearfully.

Dr. Williams nodded. “Unless you have some strange fever, it is my opinion that you're suffering from morning sickness.”

Your heart dropped to your feet and started beating like a jackrabbit's. No. No. Lord, please.

“That can't be true,” you said desperately. “It-It- was so long ago…I don't…”

“It takes a bit for symptoms to present,” the doctor explained.

“B-But I can't, I can't be,” you cried, panicking. “You don't understand, my life is over if I'm with child. Over!” You stood up and started pacing around.

“Admittedly it’s still too early to tell for certain,” Dr. Williams allowed. “However, I have seen this many times before. There are options–”

“No! There are no options!” you snapped. “I am the daughter of an oil baron and a society lady! J-just imagining the shame, the disgrace–...my mother will kill me. And if she doesn't, I'll be sent away to the corners of the earth.”

You burst into tears at this declaration, falling to your knees and covering your face in shame. Dr. Williams hung back, perhaps sensing that you needed a minute.

After you collected yourself and stood up, you said in a quiet, cold voice: “There is no way I am pregnant. I thank you for your expertise, Dr. Williams, but in this case you are incorrect. I simply have a fever. Good day.”

You swept out of the building with your head held high, collecting your maid and getting back on the carriage.

The two of you had barely left the town borders before you broke down and started crying again. Pregnant? A child? You? It could not be true. It could not.

And…and definitely not by Arthur, of all people. He was like a firecracker, burning hot and dangerous, the exact opposite of a…father.

Even that word burned acrid on your tongue.

“Do you need somethin’, miss?” Elisabeth asked tentatively.

You sighed, wiped your face, and shook your head sadly. “No…no thank you. I'm alright.”

The ride back home was silent save for your sniffles and forlorn sighs. You refused to accept this possibility.

You felt you would rather be tarred and feathered than even think about telling your mother about your condition. Your outburst at Dr. Williams had barely covered it; your parents were continually telling you to act perfectly, to never step out of line. Even though they were far from perfect.

Your mother was the biggest hypocrite you knew. She thought you didn't see her inviting the help in for "tea". Well, you did, not that you cared much. It was just sickening that she set expectations for you that she herself had never reached.

She'd threatened you with the nunnery before, after catching you with one of the stable boys. Said that “wicked girls were destined for the deepest pits of hell.” Hmph. She was definitely an expert on the subject.

As for your father, well, he wasn't much better. Though he didn't verbally abuse you like your mother, he viewed you more like a liability among his property. You were certain he would marry you off if it would benefit his emerging empire. He would see this…predicament as something that could damage his reputation. If your mother chose to send you away, you doubted he would make much of a fuss.

Thankfully, the churning in your stomach faded on the way home, and only your mind remained in shambles.

You tried to avoid your mother when you arrived at the manor, but of course she was in the front room, waiting for you.

“What did the doctor say?” she inquired as you put down your things.

“Just a mild fever,” you replied shortly, then power walked to your room. But she followed.

“Are you sure? Do you have a temperature? Did he give you any medicine?” she pressed, following your impatient footsteps right up to your bedroom door.

“Mother, I'll be fine. It's not serious,” you said angrily, then closed the door behind you firmly.

You waited until her heels clicked away down the wooden stairs, then collapsed on your bed and sobbed some more.

My life might be over.

A month and a half later.

Your life was over.

Completely and utterly.

The nausea had not stopped, and in fact it got worse the week after you went to the doctor. That had been the peak of pain, but it still remained for another two weeks afterwards, lurking like some shadowy beast.

Your dresses, tailored exactly to your measurements, had become just a little bit tighter. At first you had brushed it off as an indulgent diet, or just stress weight, but even your mother had commented on how your dress was pulled tight over your torso.

After that, you took care to hide your body under the heaviest dresses you could manage. But it was summer by now, and staying out of sight was a tall order.

Your mother repeatedly asked you to go to the doctor again, and perhaps seek out a second opinion, and you refused, insisting that it was just a fever. But you could tell she wasn’t believing you. She gave you strange looks when you said you felt nauseous yet again.

It was a stormy day in June when you finally had the courage to take off your clothes and examine your body in the floor-length, gilded mirror in your boudoir.

A mistake.

Your blood turned to ice as you saw the unmistakable bump that was forming.

Your breathing accelerated along with your mind, thoughts racing and jumbling and colliding, coming to one stunning, awful conclusion:

I’m pregnant.

You were pregnant. With child. An expectant mother.

What a joke.

You? A mother? What a ridiculously absurd notion. You would sooner be a clown in a traveling circus.

And…that man was the father. The man that haunted your thoughts and your dreams, the man whose scent still clung ever so faintly to one of your riding dresses. The man whose mere name sent shivers down your spine.

Arthur Morgan.

You put your clothes back on, then left the room, intending to get a snack, but before even making it to the stairs your mother pounced on you.

“Alright, I simply must insist that you tell me what is really going on,” she declared. “No fever lasts this long, and you have no temperature at all.”

You tried to dodge her, but she blocked your path, clearly dead set on getting an answer from you.

“It’s nothing, Mother, I told you before,” you said, irritated. It absolutely was not nothing, but you needed time to plan your strategy.

“If it’s nothing, why have you been nauseous for the past…” She paused, then narrowed her eyebrows.

Before you could step back, she poked your stomach with one finger. You of course involuntarily jumped back.

“What- What are you doing?” you gasped, nervous.

“Let me see your stomach.”

“What?”

She pushed you towards your room. “I said, let me see your stomach, girl. Lift up your skirts.”

You scoffed, heart pounding like a drum. “Why would I do that?”

You were forced back into your bedroom, and your mother closed and locked the door behind her. “I just want to look at it.”

This was quite a pickle.

“I- I really don’t think that’s necessary, Mother-”

She grabbed at your skirts, impatient. You jumped back. “Stop it! Fine, I will.”

She was going to find out eventually.

Your mother crossed her arms and waited with anticipation as you slowly lifted your skirt. The blood was rushing in your ears and you prayed to God that you would survive the next five minutes.

Eventually your skirt revealed the still developing but definitely noticeable bump you had.

The room was dead silent. Your mother stared at your belly in shock, lips slightly parted.

Then her mouth closed and formed a hard scowl. “Would you care to explain the meaning of this?”

You blinked several times, trying to find your voice, but it was lost and long gone.

“Are you-” She swallowed hard. “Are you…with child?”

She stared at you. Her glare kept you still and pinned you down like a bug on display.

You eventually nodded, wordless and terrified.

“And who is the father, pray tell?”

You just stared at the ground.

“Answer me, girl,” she said sharply.

There was no way you were going to tell her that. It would genuinely be better for her to assume you were so loose you couldn’t even pinpoint the father.

Your mother pinched her nose, and sighed, shaking her head. “We’re going to have a little talk with your father when he comes home. Remain in your room; I have no desire to see you anymore.” With those pleasant parting words, she stomped out, slamming the door behind you.

Once her footsteps faded away, you sat on your bed, numbly thinking of what to do.

Your father was sure to agree with any punishment your mother dreamed up. He was more like a manager than a father, and he had no qualms about letting a bad employee go.

Or…or maybe he wouldn’t? Perhaps his indifference would work in your favor, and he would tell your mother not to bother? Maybe he’d even pay someone to take care of it.

These were all hypotheticals. There was no telling what would really happen until it actually occurred.

Your father was due home soon. It was just your luck that he was taking a half-day in the office.

Ugh.

End of Part 2.

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