#(usually when i have a part in that happiness.)

[lizziesangel]

AN ANGSTY ASS REQUEST, I wanna cry and I know you are gonna do amazing. Love your writing. Kind of backstory: So.....Reader is the love of Rafe’s life and the only person who has shown him kindness and given him affection. They are kidnapped for some reason, perhaps kept on a boat, and she falls overboard. Rafe escapes. A BODY (not hers, but can’t be certain) gets washed up at some point and she is determined to be dead. So just kind of as back story....you don't need to write that part if you don't want to <3 So present/and well....the request really: Funeral is held and everything. He is walking around for about 2 months, mourning her, being an ABSOLUTE WRECK. He has nightmares constantly about her and when he’s awake, she haunts him still. He is drinking all the time because he can’t cope. UNKNOWN……she survived but was still held captive. She manages to escape and breaks into his house. HE THINKS HE IS OUT OF HIS MIND, DRUNK but it’s such a teary felt reunion when he realizes that she’s real. Maybe he gives her a bath (cus lets be real) and takes care of her (and again, let's be real, she is probably really weak) and is just shaking with relief, happiness and is so soft with her :(

wow, this is such an amazing request, i absolutely love this!!

the salty air was sharp and cold, biting against your skin as the boat rocked beneath your feet. it wasn’t the gentle sway of a calm ocean—it was erratic, violent, as if the sea itself mirrored the chaos that had unfolded in the past few hours.

rafe’s face was bloodied, his lip split and bruises already blooming along his jaw. his wrists were bound behind his back, the ropes digging into his skin as he struggled against them. he was glaring at the men surrounding him, his usual cocky bravado barely masking the sheer terror in his eyes.

“look,” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous, though it cracked with desperation, “you’ve got me. i’ll get you your money. just let her go. she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

one of the men, a grizzled figure with a jagged scar running down his cheek, barked out a laugh. “you don’t get it, do you? you think you can screw us over and just walk away? nah.

“you’re gonna feel what it’s like to lose everything.”

the words sent a shiver down your spine. you’d known rafe’s life wasn’t clean—he carried the weight of bad decisions and even worse company—but you never thought it would come to this. the fear in his eyes, barely veiled beneath his fury, was enough to make your heart clench.

“please,” you interjected, your voice trembling as you stepped closer. “please, just let us go. we won’t—”

the sharp crack of a slap silenced you, the force of it sending you stumbling back. rafe surged forward, his shout of rage muffled by the gag they shoved into his mouth.

“enough talking,” the scarred man said coldly. “you want to play the hero, cameron? let’s see how much you care about her.”

before you could react, multiple strong hands grabbed your arms. you thrashed against them, your heart pounding as you looked back at rafe. his eyes were wild, his muffled cries growing frantic as the men dragged you toward the edge of the boat.

“no!” you screamed, your voice raw as the dark water loomed closer. the waves were fierce, crashing against the sides of the vessel, the moonlight glinting off their surface like shards of broken glass.

“rafe!” you cried, your voice breaking.

he was struggling so hard now that blood began to seep from where the ropes cut into his wrists. his muffled shouts were desperate, pleading.

“throw her over,” the scarred man commanded.

“no! please—” you begged, but it was too late.

the cold hit you like a thousand needles, stealing the air from your lungs as you plunged into the frigid ocean. the world above became muffled, the boat a distant silhouette against the black sky as you were swallowed by the waves. you fought to stay afloat, the current pulling at you like unseen hands.

above, rafe was a man undone. he thrashed violently, his screams muffled and his face twisted in agony. “let me go! i’ll kill you! i’ll kill you!” the men barely paid him any mind as they turned the boat, leaving the spot where you disappeared into the water.

“you better hope she’s a good swimmer, cameron,” the scarred man sneered. “and you’d better figure out how to pay us back.”

the funeral rafe held was a quiet affair, not because you deserved anything less, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of it being a spectacle. the small, secluded chapel was filled with the scent of lilies and a suffocating weight of sorrow. he sat in the front row, shoulders hunched, his trembling hands clutching the edge of the pew.

he couldn’t look at the casket, though it was empty.

the minister’s words were hollow, background noise to the storm raging inside him. “a kind soul, taken too soon…” “beloved by all who knew her…” every word made his chest ache. rafe clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, willing himself not to break down in front of the small group of mourners.

afterward, when the empty coffin was lowered into the ground, he stood motionless, staring at the fresh mound of earth. a few people offered condolences, their words shallow and meaningless. he didn’t respond, barely even acknowledged them. what could they say? no words could bring you back.

once everyone left, rafe stayed behind. minutes turned into hours as he sat on the damp grass, staring at the grave as though he could will it to undo itself. he whispered apologies to the air, his voice breaking. “i should’ve done something. i should’ve stopped them. i’m so sorry, my baby.”

the days that followed bled together into a haze of grief and self-loathing.

rafe couldn’t stand being at home. every corner of the house reminded him of you. the couch where you’d curled up with a blanket and a book, the kitchen where you’d danced with him to music only the two of you could hear—it was all too much. he turned to the only thing that numbed the pain: alcohol.

whiskey became his constant companion, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction from the ache in his heart. he barely ate, barely slept. the nightmares wouldn’t let him. every time he closed his eyes, he saw you falling, the cold water dragging you under while he screamed your name. he’d wake up drenched in sweat, his chest heaving, the echo of your voice fading into silence.

he stopped answering his phone. friends tried to check in on him, but he pushed them away. he couldn’t face their pity, couldn’t stand the thought of them telling him to “move on.”

how could he move on when the love of his life was gone?

the two-month mark came and went, and rafe was a shadow of the man he used to be. his once meticulously styled hair was unkempt, his clothes rumpled, his face hollow from lack of sleep and too many sleepless nights spent drowning in liquor.

he spent most of his days wandering aimlessly, haunted by memories of you. he would catch glimpses of you everywhere—in the stranger who had your laugh, in the perfume that smelled like yours. his heart would leap, only to crash when he realized it wasn’t you.

one evening, he found himself on the beach, the waves crashing against the shore. he sank into the sand, letting the cold wind whip against his face. he stared at the horizon, the sun dipping below the water in a blaze of gold and crimson.

“i don’t know how to do this without you,” he whispered to the empty expanse of ocean. his voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands, the weight of his grief crushing him.

for rafe, the world had stopped the moment you disappeared. time dragged on, but he remained frozen, lost in a limbo of regret and longing. he didn’t know if he could survive without you.

he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

his nightmares were relentless. every second he closed his eyes, he was back on that boat, watching helplessly as you were thrown overboard. the icy waves swallowed you, your desperate cries for help echoing in his ears. he’d wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he reached out for you in the darkness—only to find cold sheets and empty space.

you weren’t there, and the realization gutted him every time.

the only way he knew how to cope was to drown himself in alcohol. bottles littered the floor of his house, their contents his only escape from the crushing weight of his grief. the whiskey blurred the edges of his pain, but it never truly numbed it. instead, it left him hollow, stumbling through a life that felt meaningless without you.

the storm outside was fierce, rain pelting against the windows and wind howling like a wounded animal. rafe sat slumped on the couch, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers. he stared blankly at the television, though he wasn’t watching it. the sound was muted, the images flickering across the screen as if mocking his apathy.

the sharp sound of glass shattering upstairs jolted him from his stupor. for a moment, he froze, his foggy mind struggling to process it. he shook his head, muttering to himself, “you’re losing it, rafe.”

but then he heard it again—a faint creak of floorboards. His heart began to race, adrenaline cutting through the haze of alcohol. grabbing a nearby lamp as a makeshift weapon, he stumbled toward the stairs, each step heavier than the last.

he pushed open the bedroom door, his breath hitching at what he saw.

you were there.

at first, he thought it was another cruel trick of his mind. you stood by the window, your body bruised, your clothes torn and soaked from the rain. your hair was a tangled mess, your face pale and gaunt, but it was you.

“rafe…” your voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

“n... no,” he muttered, shaking his head. his grip on the lamp tightened. “you’re not real. you’re not—”

“i am,” you interrupted, taking a shaky step toward him. “i got away. i—i’m here.”

the lamp fell from his hands, clattering to the floor as he stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. when your knees buckled, he lunged forward, catching you before you could hit the ground.

the moment your weight fell into his arms, he knew. you were real.

a sob broke from his throat as he held you tightly, his fingers digging into your sides as if afraid you’d disappear again. “you’re alive,” he choked out, his voice raw. “oh, my God, you’re alive.”

“i am,” you murmured weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt. “i am.”

rafe carried you to the bathroom, his arms trembling with relief and adrenaline. he set you down on the edge of the tub, his hands shaking as he turned on the water, testing the temperature to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

“i... i need to—you need to get cleaned up,” he said, his voice unsteady. he avoided your eyes, his movements jerky and unsure. “you’re freezing. God, you’re so cold.”

you didn’t protest, too weak and tired to do much more than nod. he helped you out of your soaked clothes, his touch gentle, his eyes filled with guilt and tenderness.

once the tub was filled, he eased you into the warm water, his heart breaking at the way you winced. he knelt beside the tub, his sleeves rolled up as he carefully washed away the grime and salt from your skin. his hands trembled as they ran through your hair, untangling the knots with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes.

“i thought i lost you,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i thought—i thought you were gone forever.”

“i almost was,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

tears streamed down his face as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against your damp hair. “you’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “i’m not letting you go again. i promise.”

after the bath, rafe wrapped you in the softest towel he could find and carried you to his bed. he brought you water, food, anything you might need, though you barely managed a few bites. he sat beside you, his hand never leaving yours, as if reassuring himself that you were really there.

that night, for the first time in months, he didn’t have nightmares. Instead, he fell asleep with you in his arms, the steady rhythm of your breathing the only sound he needed to finally find peace.

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @diorstarkey

[cheetabites]

☆彡 peppers ˳༄꠶

character: hwang in-ho / 001 / frontman

˳༄꠶ summary: five sfw and nsfw general headcannons for the frontman

sfw headcannons

★ i truly believe he’d be a devoted partner to you; he literally accepted loans / bribes - loosing his job in the process - just to help his sick wife and eventually entered the squid games just to pay for her treatment

★ when he was declared victorious he was so happy to go home. but when he arrived back and was met with the news that his wife had already died, he fell into a raging depression; scapegoating the blame of her death onto others due to his immense grief. eventually he decided to go back to the games because he didn’t believe there was really anything out there for him anymore

★ deep down there’s a small part of himself that regrets giving jun-ho his kidney - if he had sold it he could’ve payed for the treatment earlier; but this hard truth was something he tried his best to repress because he felt ashamed for thinking that way, after all he still loved his brother

★ he knows about the organ harvesting. while he’s not directly involved in it, he makes no effort to stop it - if anything, he thinks it’s a good use since it would be a waste to incinerate usable organs, and because it’ll ‘help’ other people like his deceased wife (people who need transplants)

★ he still carries a photograph of his wife even while running the games, although he makes sure to never leave it out in the open. it’s always on his person one way or another. when he looks at her picture though, it’s a brief period of clarity where he reflects on his actions and what she’d think of him if she saw what he did and continues to do

nsfw headcannons

★ he’s a dom, no doubt about it. although in the beginning of your relationship he’s more of a hard dom, the further you progress with your relationship waters that down a bit; he needs a deep emotional connection with his partner to get there though

★ he’s really into marking your body; primarily though, it’s mostly hickies that he leaves on your skin - usually on your neck or on your thighs. he wouldn’t leave anything deeper than tiny purple bruises. to him, leaving bruises - that come from hard impact play, spanking, ect - on your body is unsightly and it leaves him disgusted

★ one of his favorite sex positions is definitely doggystyle. he seems to be the guy that’ll lay his arm around your front just to pull you close, so he can watch you tilt your head back with that look of ecstasy. he sometimes wraps a tie around your neck to pull your head back if he wants to fuck hard and fast

★ whenever you guys are fucking in missionary, he’ll have one of his hands wrapped around your neck as he degrades you - sometimes adding some faux pity into his tone whenever you whine that it’s too much or that it’s too big

★ he overstimulates you as a punishment. saying things like “oh now you’re complaining that it’s too much when you couldn’t even control yourself while i was away” or “you say you can’t take anymore even though you keep creaming all over my fingers, such a dirty whore”

the end! i hope you enjoyed <3!

© cheetabites. don’t translate, claim or repost my works on any platform. jan 3 2025.

[wosoloml]

— second chance || emily fox x reader

[ “I messed up by breaking up with you, because ever since then, I’ve been missing you everyday.” ]

summary: After having her heart broken by Emily, the reader decided to seize the opportunity for a fresh start in her career by moving to London. Little did she know, her worst nightmare wasi about to come true. But sometimes, nightmares have a way of transforming into the sweetest of dreams.

from this request

wc: 1,744 words. | masterlist

warnings: fluff, mention of heartbreak, angst, secret flirtings, jealousy, happy end

——-

"There is no future for us. I need to leave," were the last words Emily said to me as she walked out of our apartment. Well, not our apartment anymore.

This was the last thing I expected when I came home after interviewing the local handball team, excited to share some amazing news I had received at work.

I walked in with the biggest smile on my face, and we both said at the same time, "I want to talk to you about something." Little did I know that by the end of the conversation, I’d be alone in what used to be our home.

Usually, I’m the one who shares big news first, but this time, I decided to let Emily go ahead. I thought she’d need time to process the fact that the Arsenal Football Club had offered me a position on their media team. Letting her start felt like the considerate thing to do.

What a mistake that turned out to be.

If I’m honest, I don’t even remember how I survived the first night. Curled up in my bed, crying my eyes out, and consumed by the question, "Why?"

Everything began a few years ago when we met at UNC. It started with a little crush on the athletic girl, stealing glances every time we passed each other in the hallway.

After months of back-and-forth and a lot of help from our friends Alessia and Lotte, we finally started dating. It was never easy, especially with football becoming such a big part of Emily’s life, but she always treated me like I was the girl of her dreams. I couldn’t have been happier.

Doing long-distance was a significant challenge for us. She signed her first professional contract with Racing Louisville FC, while I was just starting my first year at the sports journalism academy. But our love was always stronger—stronger than any distance or circumstances. We were supposed to be a team.

Everything became so much easier and better when she finally moved back after joining North Carolina Courage. It felt like the greatest relief.

For days after she told me she was coming back, I fell asleep and woke up with the biggest smile on my face.

Eleven months, two cats, and one apartment later, here I am—without anything. I lost the love of my life simply because she "needed to focus on her career."

We were a team, but now she preferred a solo performance.

She was even too cowardly to come here and pick up her things when I was home. The only message I got from her was:

"When does your shift start, so I know when to get my stuff?"

- EF

EF? Is she serious? We spent the last six years together, went through everything, and shared so many firsts. And the only thing she adds to her message are her initials?

It's pathetic.

---

At 9:00, I arrived at the base camp of THE Arsenal Women's Football Club for this year's training camp in Spain.

It’s been a year and a half since I made the decision to start fresh and begin a new life. A year and a half since a certain American girl broke my heart. Coming to London was the best decision I ever made.

One of my closest friends from college is here with me. Without Lessi and Lotte’s support in those early months, I don't know where I'd be. I came to London with nothing but two cats and a suitcase. Now, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

"Y/N!!" I heard a familiar voice shout my name. As I turned around, I saw my favorite defender.

"Lottee, my girl!" I grinned, my smile growing wider as I pulled her into a tight hug.

"How’s my favorite girl? Ready for today’s media day? The first one during training camp in Spain?"

She chuckled. "I can’t wait to get sunburned. You know my British skin isn’t used to that much sun."

As I followed Lotte to her first media date of the day, we passed the changing room, and I suddenly heard a familiar voice. My heart stopped. This can't be real. No, it's not real—maybe I just overheard something.

"What's up, Y/N?" Lotte immediately noticed the shift in my behavior, but I tried to play it cool.

"Nothing. I just thought I heard someone's voice, but that can't be real," I replied.

She nodded, but I could sense a slight change in her mood.

I’m just paranoid. That’s it, for sure.

"Y/N? Could you possibly anchor the 'First Day at Arsenal' segment with our new signing today? It's not public yet that she transferred to London, but we wanted to take advantage of our training camp in Spain to shoot some nice scenes," the media team leader said.

I looked at him, confused. "I didn't know we got a new signing."

"Really? Everyone knows that. Especially Alessia and Lotte Wubben-Moy—they already know her from previous teams. Funny, huh?"

No. I’m just paranoid again. I know it. This cant be happening.

---

"Hey y/n".

That's it. That's the moment I’ve been scared of the whole day. No, scratch that—I've been scared of it for the last 18 months.

I haven’t heard her voice since that specific day she left me in our old apartment. I thought I’d be okay hearing my name from her lips again. God, was I wrong.

"Since when are you here?" I had to hold myself back from laughing at my own question. The first thing I asked her after she cut me out of her life was when she came to Arsenal. If someone had told me this morning that I’d say that, I would’ve laughed in their face.

"My plane from North Carolina landed this morning. It’s not official that I’ve transferred, but they decided spontaneously that I could join the girls here at camp already. I didn’t know you were working here, I promise. I would’ve told you about the transfer."

It’s over for me now. A small chuckle escaped my lips. "You would’ve told me? What would you have said to me? 'Hey, Y/N, by the way, I’m moving to the club where you work, after destroying your life a year and a half ago. Ready to ruin your new life too?' Because that’s what you’re doing right now. You’re destroying my new life. I came to London with nothing. But not with me, Emily. This time, you won’t take everything from me. This is my home."

I slightly shouted at her. She just stared at me. I’m done with her now. Turning around, I left.

---

As the days pass, I have to admit that maybe I’m not completely over her.

It all began when we both became nervous around each other during the "First Day at Arsenal" segment, and it continued with secret touches on the beach and our eyes searching for each other in a room full of teammates and staff.

It’s been difficult to admit that I still get butterflies when she’s near, and that this chapter isn’t as closed as I once thought. Am I ready to let her in again? She hurt me in a way no one else ever has, and that’s something I’ll never forget. But I just miss her, that’s all. Nothing more... or is there more?

It was our last evening in Spain, and the entire staff and team went out for drinks at a local bar. This time, my mind wasn’t occupied by a certain brunette American.

Instead, it was an Irish defender who caught my attention.

It wasn’t the first time Katie McCabe and I had spent time together outside of work. I wouldn’t exactly call it flirting, but we always had a good time laughing together. She knows how to talk to a woman, and let’s just say she’s not hard on the eyes either, so it’s a win-win situation, isn’t it?

When Katie rested her hands on my waist, it was enough to set Emily off. She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me outside. I was too stunned by her actions to even react.

"Is she your new girl?" she asked, her voice sharp. I had to hide a smirk.

"What do you mean, Emily?"

"You heard me. Is Katie McCabe your new girlfriend?" I chuckled again, maybe a bit tipsy from the drinks Katie had bought for me.

"No."

Emily didn’t believe me. I could see it in her eyes.

"Then explain to me why you’re giggling at every statement she makes and why the hell are her hands allowed on your body?"

My face grew serious. "What’s this, Emily? Are you jealous of someone who’s just being friendly? You? The one who ended this relationship, if I may remind you?"

That was it. That was the boiling point for Emily.

"I messed up by breaking up with you, because ever since then, I’ve been missing you every single day," she shouted, her voice frantic. My eyes widened, and my heart melted at her words.

Without thinking, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers.

"Finally!" Lotte and Alessia cheered from inside the bar. Finally.

The plane landed in London. Coming back home, my hands locked with the girl I’ve always loved. This is us now—forever.

[monzabee]

run for the hills – lh44 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where fate decides to bring you back into Lewis’ life, making him question his belief in fate.  

Pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

Word Count: 9.3k 

Warnings: cursing, crying, drinking and mentions of alcohol, mentions of brocedes (rip), kissing, unprotected sex (you shouldn’t be surprised at this point), oral (m receiving), hand kink, praise kink, minors dni!!

Request: “hey, Merry Christmas 🫶🏽 I was hoping I could request a Lewis smut fic where the reader is Nico Rosberg's sister (with a age gap of around 6-8 years with him and Lewis) and before 2016 they were just really close friends who just kissed once but chose to pretend it didn't happen. after years, they run into each other at a club or a party and they're pretty snappy at each other but there's a lot of tension too and they end up having sex where Lewis is really cocky and also the reader has a hand kink and praise kink? I'm so sorry if I made it too long, i love your writing <33” + “oooo please could i request something w lewis?! something gut wrenchingly angsty? sorry i don’t really have a plot in mind hhhh thank you heheh”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! HAPPY NEW YEAR, i started this fic last week and i honestly didn't think I'd finish it this quickly but here we are. don't let my words fool you, i got the request last christmas but if you know me then you know that i am not quick when it comes to working on requests (i'm working on this i promise), not that this fic is even remotely christmassy, but let’s just appreciate that it is supposed to be set during the holiday period lol. this was supposed to be a shorter one but here we are, lol, i'm not even surprised at my inability to keep things short at this point. i posted this fic and realised i forgot to copy and paste a big chunk of it so oh well. as always, feedback is appreciated, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Lewis decided he doesn’t like cold a long time ago. That’s why, being the ever-decisive person he is, he chooses to spend his winter vacationing in places like the Maldives or Bali. His decisiveness is an important part of him, given what he does for a living. When he is on the track, in his car, there is no room for hesitation – he needs to be able to make split-second decisions under intense pressure, what’s not to love about that? So, once he decided he’d rather spend his time off basking in the sun rather than freezing to death somewhere else, he never looked back. He enjoys spending his time off in someplace tropical with his family, or without his family; most of the times away from the prying eyes and camera lenses of the media. 

But this time, it’s different – he's alone. 

Or rather, he thought he would be alone. The villa he rented out for the duration of the month is isolated, just how he likes it. He wakes up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore right outside his windows, and the distant chirping of tropical birds to accompany him as he lounges on the large deck, overlooking the infinite expanse of blue. There are no spectators around to gauge his reaction, try to get him to speak out about his plans for the next year when he moves to Ferrari, or what he’s going to do when he eventually retires one day. He hasn’t seen anyone from the racing world for weeks, and it’s been a much-needed break. He’d usually love to spend Christmas with his family, the only time he would ever tolerate the cold being when he is with his family, but this year he just wanted to get away on his own. 

There is no one around that expect anything from him. Just peace. 

He’s not a hermit, of course, but he enjoys spending his time by himself mostly isolated from all the other guests of the touristic area he’s staying in. The chef that works at the villa is on call for when Lewis decides that he wants to stay in for the night, the housekeeping staff come every morning to clean up around the house, then promptly leave, providing Lewis with the privacy he so desperately needs. But other than that, and a few nights spent outside in a restaurant or a club? He is all alone, and he is not complaining about it. Another thing about Lewis Hamilton is that he doesn’t believe in fate. He believes in setting and achieving goals; after all, that’s what he’s done all his life. His success isn’t some cosmic coincidence. It’s years of sacrifice by his parents, relentless effort, and unwavering determination. So, when things happen that feel serendipitous, like running into someone from his past, he doesn’t chalk it up to destiny. He chalks it up to the sheer unpredictability of life. 

And yet, as he steps out of the villa to head to a nearby beach club after dinner, he doesn’t expect to run into you, especially not after how the things ended last time, but there you are. His eyes find you at the bar with some guy next to you – he has to do a double take. Just to make sure, he tells himself. But no matter how many times his attention reverts to you, he knows it’s you. Of course, it’s you. Though he’s not a believer in fate or destiny, or whatever you might want to call it, there you are – dressed in a flowy linen dress. His first instinct is to ask the server to seat him somewhere else so that he wouldn’t have stare at you and your ‘date’ for the night. His grip on the glass in his hand tightens momentarily, and he exhales slowly, forcing himself to look away. This is not the moment, he tells himself. It’s not his business, not anymore. But still, his gaze drifts back to you. You’re laughing at something the guy says, your head tilted slightly as you sip from your drink. He can’t hear your laughter, no – but what a sound that would be to hear, he thinks for a moment. 

He knows he shouldn’t care who you’re with or what you’re doing; it’s been years since the two of you shared anything beyond... well anything, really. But something about seeing you here, in this place he thought was his private retreat from the world, feels like a twist of fate – or the kind of cosmic joke he claims not to believe in. But his eyes watch you as you throw you head back in a laugh and he can practically hear the sound in his head, his mind taking him to years ago when he used to be one of the people who got to hear it first hand; when he joined your family on karting days, or when you celebrated with him when he won a race, or even back to that one time when him and Nico were trying to drive those unicycles and you kept doubling over in laughter when they fell down – something your brother did not appreciate, but Lewis couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face as he watched you from the ground.  

Somethings never change, he thinks, as he notices the smallest of smiles that has crept its way onto his face, quickly disappearing the moment he catches himself. He knows it shouldn’t matter to him – let alone bother him. But old habits die hard, and the sight of your smile, that easy laugh, stirs something in him that feels like both longing and a pang of annoyance. You’ve always had a way of getting under his skin. Back then, it was teasing remarks that somehow felt more genuine than any praise he received elsewhere. He catches himself glancing your way again, his jaw tightening when the guy beside you leans in a little too close. It’s irrational, this surge of jealousy that claws at his chest. He knows he has no right to feel this way, but that doesn’t stop it from burning through him. He looks down at his drink, willing himself to focus on anything but you. But memories have a way of sneaking up on him, unbidden. The days spent at karting tracks, the shared dinners with your family, the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, talking about everything and nothing at all. Back then, it was easy. Natural. Like you were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, until you didn’t. 

Just then, you glance over, your eyes scanning the room before they land on him. For a moment, everything stills. The laughter fades from your face, replaced by something unreadable. Surprise, maybe. Or recognition. His breath catches in his throat, and he curses himself for the way his chest tightens under your gaze. He watches as you excuse yourself, heading towards the restrooms, and he swears he has never gotten up so fast and walked so fast in his life. He doesn’t think, he just moves until he spots you in the hallway, queued behind some people waiting for the bathroom line. What kind of a club only has one bathroom? He thinks, but that’s not the point. 

He clears his throat. 

You turn, eyes widening in that familiar, guarded way. “Lewis.” Your lips open in shock as you glance behind him and then focus on him again, “Did- did you follow me here?”  

“Were you on a date with that guy?” The words come out of his mouth before he can stop himself, his voice colder than he expects. 

You blink, taken aback by the question. “Excuse me?” 

He stands there, regretting the words as soon as they leave his mouth, but that doesn’t stop the irritation from creeping up his spine. His gaze flickers to the bar behind him, where the guy you were with is still talking to the bartender, oblivious to what’s going on. “I asked if you were on a date,” he repeats, a little sharper this time as he emphasises the last word. 

You raise an eyebrow, the surprise on your face melting into something more guarded, a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “What if I was?” You cross your arms, your eyes narrowing. “Maybe I’m just out enjoying my night. Ever think of that?” 

He feels a rush of heat in his chest. “It’s not like I care,” he mutters, though it’s clear from the edge in his voice that he does. “Just curious.” 

You scoff, your lips curling into a sarcastic smile. “Sure, Lewis.” 

“So?” He inquires, “Are you? On a date with that guy, I mean.” 

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not amused. “Are you serious right now?” you snap, your arms tightening across your chest. “You’re standing here, in the middle of a hallway, asking me about my love life? What is this, high school?” 

Lewis feels the heat rise in his neck, irritation mixing with a sense of frustration he doesn’t quite understand. “I’m not asking for your life story, just... just an answer. Is it that hard?” His voice is tight, but he doesn’t back down. 

You scoff again, your lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer. “You really think you can just waltz back in and start demanding answers like we’re still... You know what? Yes, Lewis, I’m on a date.” You throw a glance over your shoulder at the guy still sitting at the bar. “We met on the beach at the hotel I’m staying at, and I thought I’d let him treat me to a dinner and a couple of drinks before I’d let him fuck me six ways to Sunday.” You roll your eyes at someone on the queue gasping at your choice of words. “Not that it’s any of your business. Are you happy now?” 

Lewis’s hand grips your wrist, a little too tight, and without warning, he’s tugging you away from the bar, his jaw clenched. “Come on,” he mutters, his tone low and urgent, as he steers you towards the back exit. You’re caught off guard, stumbling to keep up with his forceful pace, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“What the hell, Lewis? Let go of me!” you snap, yanking your arm free once you're outside in the chill night air. The chill hits you like a slap, the heat of the club’s atmosphere fading behind you as the door slams shut. 

“Seriously?” he spits, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “You’re gonna play it like that?” 

You take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know what game you're playing at, but I’m not interested. What the hell was that back there? Dragging me out like I’m some kind of... of property?” 

He glares at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re unbelievable.” His voice rises, sharp and cutting. “I ask you a simple question, and you throw that crap at me? What the hell did you think I was supposed to do? Just stand there and pretend like I didn’t care?” 

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Pretend like you don’t care? That’s rich coming from you. You don’t get to just waltz in, after all this time, and act like you can demand answers, Lewis. Like you have any right to know what’s going on in my life.” 

“Your brother would be so disappointed in you right now.” His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the air between you two freezes. The breeze picks up, but the sudden silence makes the world feel too loud.  

“You don’t get to talk about my brother,” you seethe, as Lewis's face hardens, his jaw tensing, but it’s the look in his eyes that hits hardest — it’s a mixture of hurt and fury, both so raw, you almost feel sorry for what you’ve just unleashed. 

“What did you just say?” His voice is low, almost dangerously so, the words slipping through clenched teeth. 

You swallow, but it doesn’t help the sharp edge in your voice. “You heard me. You don’t get to talk about him, you don’t get to fuck up my life and you don’t get to come back here acting like you still have any claim on me or my life.” You’re breathing heavily now, the anger and hurt mixing into a bitter cocktail that you can’t quite swallow – funnily enough, Lewis can smell the cocktail you had earlier. “You left. You made your choice, Lewis. And now you don’t get to barge back in and pretend like I owe you anything.” 

Lewis stands in front of you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes are dark, his jaw tight as he processes your words. He doesn’t know when the two of you got closer together, he can practically feel the anger radiating off you, “You think I don’t know that?” he spits, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You think I don’t know what I did?” His voice cracks slightly, the vulnerability slipping out before he can stop it. “I fucked up, alright? I fucked up more than you’ll ever understand. We all did – me, Nico, you.” 

“You don’t get to make me feel guilty about this, Lewis. You don’t get to act like I’m the one who fucked everything up.” Your voice shakes, but you keep going, the words coming faster, more bitter. “You kissed me and called it an ‘accident’, a fluke. You fought with Nico every chance you got. I had to pick up the pieces on my own.” 

Lewis flinches at your words, but his anger doesn’t dissipate—if anything, it only sharpens. His hands remain balled into fists at his sides, but there’s something else behind his eyes now, something raw, something almost desperate. “We wouldn’t have worked out,” he mutters, it’s something that he said to himself time and time again to convince himself of it, “I am– was your brother’s friend, you–” 

“You were my friend, too!” You exclaim, your hands swatting at his arms, chest – anywhere you can reach. “You left me, as if I meant nothing to you! You stole my first kiss and shattered my life to pieces on the same day!” You manage to get in some good hits despite Lewis’ attempts to calm you down, and the lump in your throat makes it harder for you to continue talking, “Do you know how many times I wondered if you kissed me just to piss Nico off? Do you know how that feels?” 

“What?” He asks, his voice low. Each hit, each accusation, it stings. But nothing hits harder than the raw emotion in your eyes – hurt, betrayal, and the weight of everything he left behind. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. “You think I kissed you to get at Nico?” he says finally, his voice quieter now but no less intense. There’s an edge of disbelief, of hurt, as if the idea itself cuts deeper than your accusations. “Do you really think so little of me?” 

You cross your arms tightly over your chest, holding yourself together in the face of his raw honesty. “I don’t know what to think, Lewis. What was I supposed to think back then? You shut me out. You made me feel like it never happened – like I never happened.” 

“You were twenty-three years old,” he points out, “our age difference–” 

“Oh please,” you scoff, pushing at his chest one last time, “you’ve fucked girls younger than that.” 

Lewis flinches at your words, as if they’ve struck a nerve he didn’t even know was exposed. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t get to throw that in my face,” he finally says, his voice low and clipped, tinged with a kind of frustration that feels different from before. 

“Why?” You ask, head cocked to the side. “I can’t comment on you fucking other people, but you can question my actions because I want to fuck–” 

“Say ‘fuck’ one more time and I swear I’ll–” 

“—what, Lewis?” you snap, cutting him off before he can finish his threat. “You’ll what? Walk away again? Pretend this conversation never happened, just like you did last time?” 

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face tightening as he tries to rein in his emotions. “Don’t push me,” he warns, his voice low and taut, but there’s no real menace in it—only desperation. 

“Oh, I’m pushing?” You laugh bitterly, throwing your hands up. “I’m the one pushing? You’re the one who showed up here, dredging up every memory I’ve spent years trying to bury. Don’t you dare put this on me, Lewis.” 

“You think this is easy for me?” he shoots back, his voice rising. “You think I don’t hate myself for what I did? For what I didn’t do? I’ve lived with this every single day, and you—” 

“Fuck you!” you shout, stepping closer, your finger jabbing into his chest. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck–” 

His hands shoot up, grabbing your wrists – not harshly, but firmly enough to stop your movements. You don’t even fully register how quickly he pushes you against the wall, “You think I ran off and lived some perfect life?” he hisses, his face inches from yours as he inhales deeply. “You think I didn’t miss you every goddamn day? You think I didn’t lie awake at night, wishing I’d had the guts to ask you to stay?” 

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the rawness in his voice leaving you momentarily speechless. For a moment, the anger in his eyes softens, replaced by something else – something that feels far too close to the hope you’ve been trying to suppress. “Well... yeah.” You inwardly cringe how your voice sounds so weak, but Lewis tilts your chin back to make you look at him.  

“Is that so?” He mumbles, thumb caressing your chin as his eyes hungrily take in how your chest moves with each deep breath your inhale and exhale.  

Your breath hitches as his thumb lingers, his gaze dropping to your lips like he’s fighting every instinct to close the distance between you. “Lewis...” you start, but his name comes out softer than you intend, more of a plea than the warning you meant it to be. 

“What?” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, but there’s a softness to it, an undercurrent of vulnerability that sends your heart racing. “What do you want me to do, huh? Walk away again? Because I can’t. Not this time.” 

You shake your head slightly, but his grip on your chin keeps you from fully looking away. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “I don’t even know how to feel about you anymore.” 

His eyes darken, and his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in, his forehead almost brushing yours. “Then let me remind you,” he says, his voice a low rasp. 

Your pulse quickens, every nerve in your body screaming at you to push him away – or pull him closer and he tension between you is suffocating. “Don’t,” you whisper, but your voice wavers, betraying the battle waging inside you. 

“Don’t what?” he asks, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Don’t do this?” You don’t answer, your throat too tight, your mind too clouded with memories, anger, and something else you’re not ready to name. He waits, his breath mingling with yours, his patience stretching thin. “Say the word,” he whispers, his voice rough with restraint. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I will let you go back and take him back to your room and do whatever you want.” 

But you don’t say it. You can’t. Because as much as you hate him, as much as you want to scream at him, cry, and push him away... you also want this. Want him. 

And Lewis knows it. 

His hand releases your wrist, sliding down to your waist as his other hand stays on your chin, tilting your face toward him. The kiss that follows isn’t soft, isn’t sweet – it’s desperate, raw, and filled with years of unspoken words. It’s anger and longing, heartbreak, and desire, all crashing together in a way that steals your breath and sends your heart into overdrive. A softer kiss might have been what you wanted, but Lewis knows this is what you need. His body presses against yours, and your hands instinctively find his shoulders, clinging to him as if letting go would leave you falling apart. His lips are warm and insistent, the taste of him intoxicating. Every move, every touch, feels like he’s trying to make up for everything he never said, everything he left behind. 

The kiss deepens, each second unravelling more of the carefully constructed armour you’ve built around your heart. His fingers grip your waist tighter, grounding you even as everything else feels like it’s spinning. You can feel the heat radiating off him with every press of his body against yours. Your mind screams at you to stop, to think, to pull away before you lose yourself completely – but your body betrays you. The years of hurt, anger, and confusion dissolve into the fire burning between you, ignited by a kiss that’s as much a battle as it is a surrender. 

Lewis pulls back just enough to let you breathe, his lips still hovering close, his forehead resting against yours. His breath is hot against your skin, his voice low and rough when he finally speaks. “You still want to go back and fuck your little lover boy?”  

“Who?” You mumble, breathless as a result of the kiss as your eyes become heavy with something you can’t quite describe. 

Lewis smirks, a glint of triumph flashing in his dark eyes. "Exactly," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your waist in slow, deliberate circles. His confidence is maddening, but the heat between you makes it impossible to summon the indignation you’d usually feel. 

You try to muster a response, something sharp and cutting to put him back in his place, but the way his gaze drops to your lips again makes the words dissolve before they even form. “Don’t do that,” you manage, though your voice lacks the conviction you intended. 

“Do what?” he asks innocently, though the rasp in his tone betrays his intent. 

“Act like this changes everything.” 

His smirk falters, replaced by a seriousness that roots you in place. “It doesn’t change everything,” he admits, his voice quieter now, almost tender. “But it changes something. Doesn’t it?” 

Your heart pounds against your ribs as his words sink in. You hate how easily he disarms you, how effortlessly he pulls you back into his orbit no matter how much you’ve tried to escape it. But deep down, you know he’s right. “I hate you,” you whisper, though even you can hear the weakness in your words. 

“I know,” he replies, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you. “And I hate myself for making you feel that way.” 

The sincerity in his voice cuts through the haze, making your chest tighten. But before you can think about it, you find yourself tugging on the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, pulling him closer to yourself as you mumble, “Kiss me again.” 

Your hands, which moments ago were pushing him away, now find their way into his hair, pulling him closer, as if to anchor yourself in the storm he’s unleashed within you. Lewis doesn’t hold back. His grip tightens on your waist, pulling you flush against him, the wall at your back the only thing keeping you steady. The kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that borders on desperation, as though he’s afraid this moment might slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. When the need for air becomes undeniable, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you are breathing heavily, the space between you charged with everything unsaid. “Tell me you didn’t feel that,” he says, his voice hoarse, his thumb brushing against your cheek. 

You can’t answer right away, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest it drowns out any coherent thought. But eventually, you manage to find your voice. “I hate you,” you whisper, but there’s no conviction behind the words. They sound hollow, even to your own ears. 

He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “No, you don’t.” 

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap, but the edge in your voice falters. 

“I’m not,” he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. “I’m telling you what I see. And I see you... still here. Still looking at me like that.” His hand trails down to your hip, his touch light but grounding. “If you hated me, you would’ve walked away by now.” 

You close your eyes, willing yourself to regain some semblance of control, but it’s impossible with him standing this close, his presence overwhelming. “This doesn’t change anything,” you say, though it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself than him. 

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice softer now. “But it’s a start.” You don’t say anything to agree or refute his statement, and after a brief pause, he straightens, fixies your dress and tries to fix your hair as well. “Come on,” he says, “I’ll take you back.” 

“But, my bag,” you mutter, pushing out your lower lip in a pout when you realise your bag is on the floor. Lewis has to restrain himself when he sees your lips all puffed up because of him. Your voice is whiny, and he realises you’re slurring your words a little bit when you tug on his shirt, “I don’t wanna leave my bag here.” 

Lewis looks at you for a moment, his expression softening as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin with the same tenderness he’s shown all night despite all your fighting. With a soft exhale, Lewis bends down to pick up your bag, holding it out to you with the same quiet care. “Don’t make that face,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but laced with something tender. “You really wanna go back to that room, after everything that just happened?” 

You look at him, a mix of confusion and desire swirling inside you. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the honesty slipping out before you can stop it. The words feel raw, vulnerable, but there’s something about his presence, the way he’s here, still so close, that makes you feel safe enough to say it. 

Lewis doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, his eyes soften, his thumb grazing the strap of your bag as he watches you closely, as though he’s searching for something in your expression. Finally, he steps closer again, the space between you narrowing once more. “I get it,” he says quietly. “But I’m not letting you go home alone tonight.” 

The words send a shiver down your spine. You want to protest, to push him away, but there’s something in his gaze, the way he’s looking at you now, that makes you second-guess everything you thought you wanted. You hesitate for a moment longer, the weight of your thoughts heavy in the air, but the pull between you is undeniable. It’s the kind of pull that’s magnetic, that doesn’t let you escape even when you try to resist. 

Finally, you nod, the decision feeling both like a surrender and a choice you can’t take back. “Okay,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. “Take me back, then.” 

You don’t even remember getting into his car, but you do remember the smug look he shot at your date – Carl, you think – when he helped you through the club with a firm hand on your back. The villa Lewis rented for his little getaway is entirely what you expect it to be – modern, grand, and secluded enough so no one uninvited would know he is there and bother him. The couch in the living room looks way too inviting and you make a mental note to avoid it for now. Sitting on it might make this whole situation feel too real, too comfortable, and you’re not ready for that. You glance around the space instead, taking in the clean lines of the modern furniture, the polished wood floors, and the sprawling windows that offer an unobstructed view of the moonlit ocean. You walk towards the windows, eyes taking in the view from inside the villa. The ocean stretches out endlessly before you, its surface shimmering under the moonlight. The soft sound of the waves crashing against the shore is faintly audible even through the glass, a gentle hum that seems to echo the turmoil in your chest. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, partly to steady your nerves and partly to shield yourself from the vulnerability creeping up on you. The view is breathtaking, but it does little to quiet the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You faintly hear Lewis calling out your name, but as if you are in a trance, you can’t take your eyes off the view in front of you. His voice calls out to you again, softer this time, closer. “Hey,” he says, and you feel the warmth of his presence before you even see him. Lewis’s reflection appears in the glass, his dark eyes fixed on you as he stands just behind you. 

You finally tear your gaze away from the ocean and turn to face him, your arms still wrapped protectively around yourself. “It’s beautiful,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile moment. 

Lewis nods, his expression unreadable as he follows your gaze back to the window. “It is,” he agrees, but there’s a weight to his tone, as if he’s not just talking about the view. His eyes flicker back to you, searching your face. “But it doesn’t seem like it’s helping much.” 

You let out a shaky laugh, more to fill the silence than anything else. “It’s not that simple, Lewis.” 

“Nothing ever is,” he replies, stepping closer until there’s only a breath of space between you. “But I’m here. You don’t have to deal with whatever this is alone.” 

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into it. “I don’t know what to do with you,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “With... us.” 

He exhales deeply, his hand lifting as though he wants to touch you but hesitates. “You don’t have to figure that out right now,” he says, his voice steady. “I just want to make sure you’re okay tonight. That’s all that matters to me.” 

Something about his words, his presence, eases the knot in your chest, if only slightly. “I don’t even know where to start,” you murmur, more to yourself than him. 

“Then don’t,” he says simply, his voice carrying a quiet reassurance. “Just be here. With me.” 

You look up at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign of pretense or ulterior motives, but all you see is the same man who’s managed to undo you with a single glance. “Show me your room.”  

“We don’t have to do that.” His eyebrows furrow as he reaches for your cheek, “That not why I brought you here.” 

“Isn’t it?” You try to joke, but his deep sigh is a sign of his disapproval. “I know that’s not why you brought me here, but it can be one of the reasons you brought me here.” 

“Can it?” He drawls, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.  

“For God’s sake, Lewis.” You sigh, turning your body towards the man standing next to you. “Do I need to beg you for you to fuck me?”  

Lewis’s smirk falters, his expression shifting into something deeper, darker, but undeniably tender. “Don’t,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with restraint as he steps closer. His hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You don’t need to beg me for anything. Not now, not ever.” 

The intensity in his gaze makes your breath catch, and for a moment, the air between you feels electric. “Then fuck me,” you whisper, your voice trembling with equal parts frustration and desire. “If you want me, show me.” 

He closes his eyes briefly, like he’s steadying himself, and when he opens them again, the resolve in his expression takes your breath away. “You think I don’t want you?” he asks, his tone low but firm. “You don’t know how hard it is to hold back, to stop myself from–” He cuts himself off, his jaw tightening as if even admitting it is too much. He reaches for one of your hands, freeing from your hold and places it on his crotch. “See what you do to me?” 

The crude act manages to steal a gasp from you, your eyes widening at how hard he already is. “Lewis,” you mutter, he responds with an affirmative hum, “show me your bedroom.” 

He takes your hand, his grip firm but careful, and leads you down a sleek hallway. The sound of your heels clicking against the polished wood floor echoes softly, a counterpoint to the pounding of your heart. When he pushes open the door to his bedroom, you’re momentarily distracted by how much the space reflects him. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft, ethereal light. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft light.  

You walk towards the centre of the room, the corner of your lip trapped between your teeth as you glance at Lewis over your shoulder before you run towards the bed and throw yourself onto the soft bedding. Lewis watches you with an amused smirk as you sprawl across the bed, your carefree motion starkly contrasting the simmering tension in the air. “Comfortable, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing, but the heat in his eyes betrays his calm façade. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows, giving him a challenging look. “Very.” Then you narrow your eyes at him, “But don’t call me baby, I am not your baby.” 

He chuckles, low and throaty, as he steps closer, loosening the top button of his shirt with a deliberate slowness that sends a shiver down your spine. “No?” he muses, stopping at the edge of the bed. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if committing you to memory. 

Your breath hitches when he leans over, placing a hand on either side of your body, effectively caging you in. His face is so close to yours now that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “I like seeing you like this,” he admits, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Relaxed, it suits you.” 

A flush creeps up your neck at his words, but you refuse to let him have the upper hand completely. Your fingers trail up his chest, over the defined planes of his torso, and then slide beneath the open collar of his shirt. “I could say the same about you,” you reply, your voice soft but loaded with meaning. 

His response is immediate. His lips crash against yours with a fervour that steals your breath, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you flush against him. The kiss is raw and consuming, years of tension and unspoken words pouring into the connection. When he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing ragged, he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. 

You smile, your hands slipping down to the waistband of his pants. “Why don’t you show me?” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. In one smooth motion, he lifts you, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carries you to the centre of the bed. He chuckles at the sound of your giggling, as he carefully lays you back down on the soft bed. His fingers work diligently to get you out of your dress, pulling the linen garment over your head as Lewis lets his eyes hungrily take you in. When your dress finally falls away, leaving you in nothing but lace and skin, Lewis takes a slow breath, his eyes scanning over your body with a mixture of awe and hunger. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with admiration. His fingers trace the curve of your waist, his touch sending shivers of desire through your body. 

You arch slightly into his touch, your breath coming faster, and you meet his gaze with a challenge in your eyes. “Are you going to just gawk at me, or are you going to actually do something?” 

He smirks, a flash of cockiness in his eyes. “Patience,” he teases, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in his voice as he lowers himself over you. With one hand bracing himself above you, his other hand slides down between your bodies, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch is slow, almost teasing, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as his fingers inch closer to where you need him most. “You like this?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, his lips just inches from yours. His fingers find the lace of your underwear, his touch deliberate as he pulls it aside and slips a finger inside you, making you gasp. “You’re fucking perfect,” he groans, his lips crashing against yours as he deepens the kiss, his finger working inside you with a slow, steady rhythm. You can feel the heat building between you, the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. 

“Don- don’t say ‘fuck’, Lewis,” you tease him with a small smirk as your breathing becomes deeper, “it’s unbecoming.” 

“You’ll see who will be coming in a few minutes, baby.” He chuckles at the way your expression changes at the mention of the word, his fingers moving in deeper as your let out a disapproving moan, “What? You don’t like it when I call you that?” 

With another dissenting hum and a raise of your hips to meet his hand, you let out a long exhale. “I’m not your baby Lewis, stop calling me that.” With the patience that only he can tolerate, he continues the leisurely movements of his fingers. “I want more, please.” 

Lewis tuts at your words softly, chuckling as he takes in your reactions. “I think you have a very important decision to make here,” he murmurs, his eyes suddenly painted with something more serious, “because once I fuck you, I’m not letting you go.”  

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” The words come out choppy as your breathing gets more erratic, his fingers stubbornly keeping to the slow rhythm he’s set.  

Lewis's gaze sharpens, the challenge in your tone sparking a flame in his dark eyes. “Oh, you’ll see it, alright,” he murmurs, his voice a velvety promise as his hand withdraws briefly, leaving you breathless and aching. Before you can protest, he moves with deliberate precision, tugging his shirt over his head and revealing the expanse of his chest – sculpted, strong, and utterly captivating. “Get on your hands and knees.” 

The command leaves no room for debate, his voice firm but laden with heat. Your heart skips a beat as you meet his gaze, a mixture of defiance and curiosity flickering in your expression. “Bold of you to assume I'll listen,” you quip, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays your anticipation. 

Lewis smirks, leaning down until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh, you'll listen,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Because you know exactly how patient I can be, but the same can’t be said for you.” 

A shiver runs through you at his words, and before you realize it, you’ve complied, shifting onto your hands and knees in the centre of the bed. You can practically feel his gaze on you, then all of a sudden, you can actually feel him behind you, the bed dipping slightly under his weight as he moves closer. “Good girl,” he says softly, his voice rich with approval, and the way your body reacts to the praise is almost embarrassing. “Oh, my beautiful darling.” His hands skim over your back, tracing the curve of your spine before settling on your hips. The grip is firm, possessive, sending a thrill through you.  

The sounds of him taking himself out of his trousers and pumping cock in his hand is pure debauchery, yet you find yourself pushing your hips back against his thighs. Lewis's low chuckle reverberates through you, a sound full of confidence and desire. His hand tightens on your hips, steadying you as he leans in, his chest brushing against your back. The heat of his skin against yours makes you arch into him instinctively, earning another throaty laugh from him. “You're eager,” he teases, his voice dark and dripping with amusement. “I like you like this.” 

You bite your lip to suppress the needy sound threatening to escape, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Maybe you're just slow,” you retort breathlessly, glancing back at him over your shoulder, a challenging look in your eyes. 

Lewis growls low in his throat, his hands sliding across your back. “Careful,” he warns, though there's a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “Push me too far, and I won't be nice.” Your breath catches at his words, but before you can form a response, you feel him guiding himself to your entrance, teasingly dragging against you. The deliberate slowness makes your frustration peak, and you push your hips back, a wordless plea for him to stop teasing. 

“Patience, darling,” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise. But even as he says it, he shifts forward, entering you with a deliberate motion that steals the breath from your lungs. 

The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve in your body alight as he holds still for a moment, letting you adjust. “Lewis,” you breathe, your voice shaky with need.  

His hands gently caress over the skin of your back and hips, soothing over the sharp feeling of Lewis easing himself into you in small movements of his hips. “You’re doing so well,” he shushes your whiny moans, his hands tracing your sides, grounding you. “You feel perfect, we’re almost there, darling.”  

“A-almost?” Your voice cuts his words off, voice shaky with need, “It’s not going to fit, Lewis, I can’t-” 

He leans over you, his lips pressing tender kisses along your spine, each one sending a ripple of warmth through you. His voice is a soothing murmur in your ear. “Relax for me, darling. Let me take care of you.” Your breathing steadies under his touch, the initial sting giving way to a fullness that leaves you breathless as he pushes himself fully into you. You arch your back slightly, pressing into him as his hands continue their gentle exploration of your body. The tenderness in his actions contrasts with the raw desire in his voice, creating a heady mix that leaves you yearning for more. “That's it,” he praises, his tone soft but laced with heat. “You’re incredible. See? We made it fit.” 

“I feel so full.” You manage to let out, voice whiny as the moan is ripped from the back of your throat. “It feels so good, Lewis.” 

He begins to move, a slow, steady rhythm that builds gradually, allowing you to feel every inch of him. The friction ignites a fire within you, and you can’t help the soft moans that escape your lips, each sound spurring him on. His grip on your hips tightens, his pace increasing as he finds the perfect rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “You feel so good,” he groans, his voice low and thick with desire. His hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair as he pulls you back slightly, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re mine, you know that? Only mine.”  

The moan that comes from you is dissenting, causing Lewis to slide his hand down your throat to use the leverage to pull you up on your knees, pressed against his chest. “No,” you say, hands extending backwards to keep holding onto him in an attempt to keep up with the rhythm in which he is fucking you now. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone igniting something primal within you. “Say it,” he commands, his voice rough as his movements grow more urgent. “Say you're mine.” 

Your breaths are shallow, punctuated by soft whimpers as you cling to him, trying to keep pace with his movements. The way he pulls you against him, his hand firm on your throat, sends a jolt of heat through your core. His hand is firm around your throat, but not uncomfortable to the point that you can’t breathe. 

“I’m not yours,” you gasp defiantly, your voice trembling with every move he makes.  

Lewis growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your back as his hand tightens slightly around your neck—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you in place. “We’ll see about that,” he says darkly. 

His hips snap against you harder now, his rhythm relentless as if determined to prove you wrong. The overwhelming sensation leaves you gasping, your fingers clutching at his forearm for balance. His free hand slides down your body, gripping your waist to hold you steady as he drives deeper, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. 

“Still not mine?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. His tone is equal parts teasing and commanding, daring you to resist him. “Still think someone else can fuck you better than I can?” You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moans spilling from you, but the way he moves, the way he claims you, has you crumbling. “Say it,” he repeats, his voice a low growl that echoes through your very core. 

Torn between defiance and surrender, you meet his challenge with a shaky breath. “I’m-” you begin, but he cuts you off with a particularly deep thrust that has you crying out his name instead. 

“Hmm?” Lewis chuckles darkly, clearly enjoying your struggle. His grip on your neck softens slightly as his fingers trace the column of your throat in a soothing gesture. “Come on, baby, just say it.” 

“I’m-” The word catches in your throat as he shifts slightly, the angle of his hips hitting a spot that sends a jolt of pleasure through you. A broken moan escapes your lips instead, and Lewis smirks against your ear, clearly revelling in your unravelling. 

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice low and demanding. His hand slides from your throat to your jaw, turning your face just enough that his lips can brush against the corner of your mouth. The gentleness of the gesture is at odds with the raw intensity of his movements, leaving you breathless. 

“I’m yours,” you finally gasp, the words tumbling out in a mix of desperation and surrender. 

Lewis freezes for a heartbeat, his chest heaving against your back as the admission settles between you. Then, with a triumphant growl, he resumes his pace, his grip on you tightening as if he intends to imprint himself into every fibber of your being. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. His lips trail along your shoulder, leaving a path of heat in their wake. “Say it again.” 

“Yours,” you whisper, the word coming easier this time, though the weight of it still sends a shiver through you. 

His rhythm grows more urgent, his body moving with a single-minded purpose as he pushes you both toward the edge. “Never forget it,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, “now come for me.” You blame the singular cocktail you had three or so hours ago for your compliance to his words, as you feel the wave of pleasure crash over you, obliterating any coherent thought. Your body trembles uncontrollably in his arms, your cries of release echoing in the room as he whispers sweet words of praise in your ear.  

There are a million other things Lewis expects you to say, but you surprise him with a, “I wanna taste you.”  

Lewis's movements still, his breath catching at your unexpected words. He pulls back slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with surprise and a flicker of intrigue. A slow, mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Oh, is that so?” he murmurs, his voice tinged with amusement and undeniable heat. 

You nod, your cheeks flushing under his intense gaze, but there’s a spark of confidence in your eyes. “I really do,” you say softly, the tremble in your voice betraying both your boldness and your eagerness. 

He studies you for a moment longer, his expression shifting to one of reverence laced with desire. "Well," he says, his voice low and gravelly, "who am I to deny you, darling?" With a gentleness that contrasts the fervour of moments ago, Lewis guides you to sit up, his hands warm and steady as they support you. He shifts to the edge of the bed, leaning back slightly, giving you room and letting you take control. His gaze never leaves you, his dark eyes glinting with anticipation. You settle between his thighs, your hands skimming over his skin, marvelling at the way his muscles tense under your touch. There's a sense of power in the way his body responds to you, in the way his breathing hitches when your lips brush against him. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with a small smile before leaning in. The moment your mouth closes around him, Lewis groans low in his throat, his head falling back as his control begins to slip. His hands find their way to your hair, his touch gentle but firm as he guides you, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “Just like that,” he praises, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re perfect, baby.” 

The sound of his voice, the way he says your name like it’s the only thing that matters, spurs you on, and you lose yourself in the moment, intent on unravelling him the way he did you. Your lips move with deliberate intent, your tongue tracing teasing paths that have him groaning your name like a prayer. His fingers tighten in your hair, a gentle tug that makes you glance up at him through your lashes. The sight of him – head tilted back, his lips parted as he struggles for breath, sends a thrill through you. 

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice ragged and filled with awe. His eyes find yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken. “You have no idea what you do to me.” Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper, your hands gripping his thighs to steady yourself. The sound he makes is primal, his control slipping further as his hips jerk involuntarily. He tries to hold himself back, but you can tell he’s close to losing himself completely. “Baby,” Lewis rasps, his voice thick with need, “you keep that up, and I won’t last.” You hum around him in response, the vibration pulling another groan from his lips. His hand slips from your hair to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender contrast to the raw passion between you. “Look at me,” he whispers, his tone almost pleading. 

You meet his gaze, and the connection between you feels electric. His chest heaves as his breaths come in quick, shallow bursts, his control hanging by a thread. “I’m so close,” he warns, his voice a low growl. “Do you want me to stop?” The shake of your head is all the answer he needs. With a curse under his breath, he lets go, his body shuddering as he gives himself over to the waves of pleasure crashing through him. He holds your gaze the entire time, his grip on you tightening as if anchoring himself to the moment. 

When he calms down, he collapses back against the bed, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths. You sit back after swallowing, a triumphant smile playing on your lips as you take in the sight of him, utterly undone. “That was fun,” you rasp as you take in the sight in front of you. 

Lewis chuckles softly, the sound low and breathless, as he drapes an arm over his face, trying to regain his composure. “Fun?” he repeats, his voice laced with amusement and lingering satisfaction. He peeks at you from under his arm, his dark eyes glinting with a mixture of adoration and disbelief. “You’ve got no idea what you just did to me.” 

You tilt your head, feigning innocence as you crawl up the bed to lie beside him. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” you tease, your voice light but with a hint of pride. 

He turns toward you, propping himself up on one elbow, his free hand reaching out to trace lazy circles along your arm. “You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet filled with a reverence that makes your cheeks flush. “And I’m completely at your mercy.” 

You laugh, the sound light and genuine, as you nuzzle into his touch. “I think you like it that way,” you reply, your fingers grazing over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your touch. 

“More than you know,” he admits, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your temple. The tender gesture contrasts with the raw intensity you’d just shared, and it sends a warm flutter through your chest. 

For a moment, silence falls between you, the only sound the soft rustling of the sheets and the slowing rhythm of his breathing. Then Lewis shifts, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “You know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 

The weight of his words settles over you, and you glance up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his gaze. “Good,” you whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips.  

He smiles back, a look of pure contentment spreading across his face as he tightens his hold on you. “That’s all I get?” 

“We’ll see how you feel after we get home,” you mumble as you run a finger along the curve of his jaw, “you might be bored of me by then.” 

“Home,” Lewis muses quietly, breaking the silence and ignoring your words. His voice is softer now, contemplative. “I like the sound of that.” 

You glance up at him, his face so close that you can see the faintest hint of vulnerability in his expression. It stirs something deep within you – a mix of tenderness and longing that takes you by surprise. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “Me too.” 

[sunny-knight]

What Kind Of Monster Was He?

A @forgettable-au fan (colored) animatic

MINOR BLOOD WARNING!

*Was he the kind to do too much, or not enough?

…OK, SO WHAT HAD HAPPENED WAS-

I had planned to finish this into a full fledged animation, but a lot of the parts I did end up finishing just didnt live up to what I imagined…I waited for more motivation to happen, but it just didnt so HERES THE COLORED ANIMATIC CAUSE IM REALLLY HAPPY WITH WHAT I HAVE and ive sat on posting this for like a 2 weeks 😭 which is an eternity in my time

Im gonna post the unfinished “finished” part on my side account @o-sunny-day though! and probably have people yell at me cause it actually isnt that bad AND IT TOTALLY ISNT I just… art. You get it. ENOUGH YAPPING! ITS TIME TO YAP!

except not yet, MORE BACKGROUND INFO HUCDHUC- but its background info on explaining the lore…

The explaining is much less expansive than in Dear My Dear just because I didnt work on it long enough to think every bit of it through. This is just a clean, nicer looking, and colored version of the very first storyboard.

I usually think about and put more effort into the little stuff while making the FINISHED bits since ive had so much more time to think about that in all the preppin n sketching.

BUT I liked the explaining format I did for Dear My Dear so im sticking with it!

The main idea for this was to do a study of Wingdings’ character from what we’ve been given, mainly focusing in on the expectations he puts on himself because holy shit the lyrics for this works so stupidly well it makes me mad LOOK AT THIS???

its ridiculous. i love it. I didnt know Jack Stauber helped write Forgettable AU???? woww!!! ANYWHO thats the gist of it, not much context is needed past that. Onto the sillies!!!! (per usual excuse the shitty quality of the pngs idk why Tumblr does that-)

Did you know love? Will you rest in peace?

Wingdings and Sans holding hands as kids, before turning to a casket like appearance for adult WD. The flowers hes holding are pretty important too, Marigolds to represent grief, Lilys, new life, and Forget Me Nots for this lovely little line I found when looking up good flowers to use-

“a promise to always remember” ….stop that.

That actually also has a double meaning in this case too. 1, ofc the forgetting of Wingdings. But ALSO Wingdings forgetting something himself. Forgetting who he is. Almost like a Zuko ATLA situation.

Did you have a family?

Who knows where theyre parents are, but this is HAPPY TIME and we’re gonna assume they were so awesome and very kind but had to leave or went to a farm in the sky for whatever reason.

The colors here I had a lot of fun with. Their parents had warm colors but the boys have cold, still with warm accents. Its said they more or less raised each other being very independent as shown in the second part with them running out the door by themselves.

How was the view from the shelf? Did you ever believe in yourself?

Before, we started with the beginnings. The good things, the only thing Wingdings cares to even recall. Now we’re seeing his life really start to turn upside down- making first contact with The Player :D

He’s hesitant to reach out, but is intrigued, before getting a rushing revelation of his reality and how it isnt “real”

Rather than feeling crushing existential dread, he more feels pressured to be BETTER, to figure a solution, to do something. Thats what white represents here

WHAT KIND OF MILK WERE YOU?

We then switch to more examples of how Wingdings is taking this pressure (not well) The soft tones of yellow that were shown before, turn to way brighter, intensifying that feeling that he should be fine, he should be happy, drowning in success of being the Royal Scientist.

But he just desperately wants to just go back to a time of nice coldness.

The warm vs cold tones in this I had so much fun with, coldness is supposed to represent hostility usually, while warm is nice and happy. (same with Black and white. Scary, relieving,) But these points often contradict each other, its hard to tell what you’re feeling vs what you’re supposed to be feeling. Just like Wingdings!

WHAT KIND OF LIFE DID YOU LIVE THROUGH?

The white lab coats, the expectations, theyre on all of them. But Wingdings has essentially become his expectations.

He questions what life he wants to live, one being himself and alone (speaking in wingdings) or not himself and with company (speaking in a “normal” font) Still, he frames it in past tense as he believes theres no going back now, based on what he knows.

“One of the last happy moments they had together” stop that. (i cant find a link to when that was said but I know it was once, about them taking a photo together….)

DID YOUR LIFE RUN RICH WITH CALCIUM?

Calcium….bonesss :3 Hehehehdhehfhehehheheheh still dont know why he has holes in his hands so we’re movin on

DID THEY LAUGH AT YOU OR DID YOU LAUGH AT THEM?

Compared to the childhood Wingdings remembered, heres the sadder, bleaker, more realistic version. He always thought they were laughing at him but… maybe they werent.

DAIRY BELOVED. YOUR DAYS ARE GONE,

It doesnt matter now though. Because in the NOW, Wingdings has become consumed by his expectations of himself, seeing this has the “only option” to do the only thing that he feels will give his life meaning and purpose, establishing connection with THE PLAYER

But the grocery list goes on…

And yet life continues on without him, and his room is transformed into a more livable space now that someone is…living in it. Always hurts so much making the differences between Wingdings and Papyrus’ room. It feels like making something out of the man Wingdings COULD HAVE been. Because honestly thats just what Papyrus is,

Thank you to my bestie @fruitytrip for helping me with all of my art in general but especially the storyboarding on this :3 <3

[bbokicidal]

where has the time gone? | [SKZ]

genre: angst pairing: skz ot8 x reader warnings: major character death in every scenario <- read at your own discretion

may flowers grow in the saddest parts of you.

1 year, 2 months, 14 days.

"Happy Valentine's Day." Chris coos as his hands gently tighten around the bouquet pressed into his chest. There's a soft silence that falls between the two of you and he can't help but smile, knowing it's unavoidable when he's at a loss for words - and he's the only one who can speak. "I brought you these. I remembered they were your favorite," the plastic crinkles under his fingertips, slowly moving to kneel down and hand the bouquet over. The damp grass of the early morning stains his jeans and yet he can't bring himself to care when the feeling is nothing compared to the overwhelming cold of not being able to hold you in his arms. His breathing is stuttered, shaky and warm as it leaves his lips. A hand places gently atop the heavy stone in front of him; Your name engraved with your birth - and death - date. Already over a year ago... "I wish you were here with me."

1 year, 27 days.

Minho's lip curls into his teeth and he bites down. He was grateful your mother let him in here whenever he needed it; Showing up with no warning only to be let in with warm hugs and soft welcomes, whispers that he could stay as long as he wanted. Your childhood bedroom was so... inexplicably you. Books, games, an old television, and lots of old knick knacks like a doll here and there or a blanket now stained with wear and tear. He knows your mother wouldn't mind if he touched things, moved stuff around or maybe even cleaned it up a little. But he wanted to leave it the way it was when you last touched everything. He felt that if he disturbed the peace the room brought him, your spirit would be gone for good. The closest he came was letting his back rest against your bedpost as he sat on the ground and took it all in, eyes swelling with tears. He knew he needed to stop coming here, stop disturbing your family with his presence, but he didn't want to let go.

1 year.

Changbin's hands wrap tight around the balcony railing. The metal was stained with the cold and it bit at his palms and fingertips, gnawing at him to let go. Though truth be told it didn't bother him at all - He was too busy overlooking the city lights surrounding his hotel room. He knew he'd be here a year ago today; But he was supposed to be here with you. On your anniversary together, celebrating and drinking wine, eating chocolates, tangling your limbs together in the bed and enjoying each other's presence in the city of love. But because he was stupid and offered to take you out for drinks later in the evening, a year ago today, you weren't here. The memory of the driver, intoxicated and bleary, ramming into the front of the company car makes his hands tighten around the railing in anger. Who was he to take you from him? What made him hate his life so much that he had to take another's instead? Changbin seethes on the instead, jaw clenched and tears pouring down soft cheeks usually filled with small smiles. He lets out a breath; slow, tired, pissed. But he knows that you would want him to enjoy his time in Paris even if he'd gone with the others because you weren't around anymore - so he'll do his best to relax and have fun while he can. Even if the overwhelming guilt is forever lingering.

10 months, 19 days.

"It hasn't even been a year and you're asking me to get over it." Hyunjin sobs as he pushes his palms into his eyes, fingers curled tight into fists and body wracking with his cries. "I can't just forget about them! I don't know what you - expect from me!" He can feel someone's arms wrap around him from his right and he knows immediately that it's Felix, curling up close to him and pressing his cheek into Hyunjin's shoulder with a frown. He knew Hyunjin was more angry than anything about your passing - knew that he wasn't ready to quit mourning just yet. But he couldn't keep letting it show during interviews, on stage, or during other performances. Hyunjin cried when he realized you weren't backstage to cheer him on at concerts, or had angry outbursts when anyone would talk about you and joke about things you use to say or do because he thought of it as them slandering your name even if it was a simple discussion. He couldn't stand people laughing at the memory of you because what was there to laugh at? You were dead. And with your passing, a part of him that was lighter, giggly and... happy - disappeared as well.

not yet corpses; still, we rot.

8 months, 4 days.

Jisung sits with his head down on the desk, arms thrown over the back of his head and fingers grasping hard at his hoodie sleeves. The song that plays over the studio speakers is one he had produced almost a year ago now; a softer melody, something close to "13" - a song you loved more than any of the songs that came out on their albums. He never told you - he never got the chance to - but he'd been making the song for you. Back then when you'd heard it there were no lyrics - just a sweet instrumental that made you feel like you should be dancing in a ballroom to the music, or like you belonged in a romance movie with the song playing in the background. But now... Now, he'd integrated the words he'd meant to say to you all along.

"If everything around seems dark, look again, you may be the light. (-Rumi)"

3 months, 5 days, 13 hours.

Felix's head felt heavy. Clouded. Dull. Broken. How long had he been on hiatus, now...? How long would it continue? Was he letting his fans down? Oh, right now he.. truthfully couldn't be bothered to care. As much as he adored them, everyone, he felt like he had to put himself first - even if it meant disappearing from the Earth for a few months so he could grieve the loss of his favorite person in the world. He'd returned home only a few days after it had happened, giving the boys little time to see him before he left for Australia to be away from the scene of the crime. He knew it was a freak accident, knew it never should have happened, but he also knew that if he had been two steps closer, an arm's length away - you might still be with him right now. Everything would be okay. You'd be back in the dorms cuddling or baking together, smacking each other with flour and making a mess so big even Seungmin couldn't fathom it. Or maybe, if he'd been too close to you in that moment, both of you would be gone. He shouldn't be thinking it, but... maybe that would have been better than living in a world without you.

27 days.

Seungmin wasn't sure how to feel. He was one of the group members known for being quiet, minding his own business and being a bit stoic compared to the others. But this behavior was... new. The way his jaw clenched at every mention of your name, or the way his body tensed and his hands curled into fists when he saw pictures of you. He felt an overwhelming frustration each time someone brought you up in conversation, feeling as though speaking about it would make him relive the memory of seeing the moment your body collapsed into nothing. Seungmin hated everyone who spoke about you even if it was in a positive light because he didn't want them to keep bringing you up - every mention of your name made his heart tighten in his chest until it felt like he was suffocating. And it pained him even more that people thought he wasn't grieving. Because he wasn't openly crying in public or speaking about you to the masses of media. He saw the way people spoke about him online, calling him a liar, a fake; Saying his love for you was never real. So in dealing with all of his emotions, Seungmin went home every night and laid in his bed, face buried down into his pillow. He let it build up, let the tears finally flow from his eyes, and screamed into the memory foam so loud that Felix could hear it from the next room over while gaming. He'd sob into the pillow until his throat was raw, curling up around himself and pulling his blanket over his head. People were talking about you, and now about him, too. And he didn't know how to handle it.

16 hours.

Jeongin sat in silence, but his head screamed every fews seconds for him to do something. There, on the couch in his dorm, Jeongin sat stiff with his hands digging into his knees as Chan sat nearby - rubbing gently over his back and quietly talking about how they could make arrangements, celebrate your life even if you were gone; But Jeongin heard none of it. His ears were ringing; a constant, nonstop screech that pained him to sit through, all while his thoughts were whirling around in his head like a raging dust storm that clouded all other thoughts of peace and contentedness. Get up. Go to them. Go to the hospital. Go identify them even if it's not your place. Get up. Go to the hospital. Get up. Get up. Go to them. Go to them. Go. Anywhere. Away. Go away. Go away.

He choked, and Chan stopped talking. He watched as Jeongin's eyes finally welled with tears. It was one of the only times Chan had seen Jeongin so emotional with tears pooling down his face in heavy streams of grief, his chest jerking with every breath until he was breaking down in his Hyung's arms and allowing himself to be held. Even if he went to you, you wouldn't be there. You wouldn't be smiling at him, greeting him with sparkling eyes. He would never see you again. He would never hear your voice again. And how was he supposed to live with that?

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek

[bookofbonnie]

NEIGHBOURS: 2 - VI ARCANE.

Characters: Vi x Reader.

Summary: AU. You've settled into your new apartment and life with your new neighbour, Vi. It's domestic bliss until you notice that something is clearly going on with Vi.

Word Count: 2k+.

A/N: This is formatted and written really weirdly so, I'm sorry if it's hard to read. Anyways, I enjoyed writing the first one so, I decided to do a second part. Honestly, in my head, this is taking place in the 2000’s.

PART ONE.

Excluding the difficulties that came with the first day and a half in your new apartment, transitioning into life in your new home had come with a surprisingly, comfortable ease after that.

A huge part of that was thanks to Vi. 

During your first week of moving in, Vi found herself and her tools at your place more than her own as you settled in and discovered new faults and problems that she was more than happy to fix.

In return, you fed her and after that, the two of you found yourself falling into something of a domestic routine. 

Including (but not limited to) -

Collecting each other’s mail from the mailroom:

(Angel Face: Attachment: 1 Image. 1 new message. Did you know that despite marketing their packaging as discreet, sex shops still print their website in tiny print on the label? 

Bob the Builder: fckn kill me.

Angel Face: You have to show me what you got when you get home. Please and thank you!)

Carpooling where you could:

(Your keys jingle in the lock and you twist the door handle for good measure, making sure it’s locked when a low whistle comes from the end of the hallway. 

Vi emerges from behind her own door, gym bag in hand. 

“Cute leggings,” Vi comments with a grin, closing and locking her door behind her. 

The compliment has your cheeks heating up but, you cover it with something silly.

“Thank you,” you beam and begin hitting a few poorly executed bodybuilding poses for her. “I’m glad you noticed. They’re new.”

Vi watches, amused, as you continue to muck around with the poses when her mouth suddenly goes dry when you pull your too-big-T up and over your ass and hit another pose. 

She swallows thickly, eyes wide and focused on the curve of your plump backside

When you spin around, she quickly averts her gaze with a cough as you toss her your car keys.  

“They’re nice,” Vi catches the keys, ducking her head to hide her coloured cheeks before mumbling. “You should definitely buy more.”

“Hm?”

“Uh- nothing-” Vi fiddles with the strap of her gym bag. “Ready to go?”) 

Grocery runs together + shopping in each other’s pantries: 

(“This is a lot of eggs,” Vi comments, eyeing the crate of twenty-four. 

You breathe a half-laugh, “do you need eggs, Vi?” 

There’s a long pause and it prompts you to turn around from your position on the couch to where a contemplative Violet stands in front of your open fridge. 

“... Maybe.” 

You laugh, proper, this time and it sends a kaleidoscope of butterflies through Vi; she's committed the sound to memory but still she wishes she could bottle the sound and wear it around her neck. 

Vi steals a glance at you and you smile fondly at her with your head propped on the back of your couch, “take as many as you need.”)

Movie and weekly TV nights:

(“Finally! Hurry, hurry,” you usher Vi inside your apartment. 

“Live rewind only goes back 30 minutes and the show started 28 ago.” 

“Fuck, sorry, I didn’t realise I was that late,” Vi apologises, quickly kicking her shoes off and dropping her keys in the bowl. 

The two of you settle into your usual positions on your couch, you in the corner of your L-shaped couch and Vi at the other end with her feet propped up on the ottoman. 

You cast one last look between the TV and Vi, ready to hit play but you don’t because the way she sits slumped in her seat, feet on the floor, shoulders sagging and eyes glazed over doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“Hey,” you call softly. “You okay?”

 “Hm?” Vi blinks, taking a second to register your voice. 

“Yeah, yeah, let's watch,” she waves off your concern with a hand in the air. 

“Vi… you know we don’t always have to do these movie nights? Right? If you don’t want to… you can just tell me. I won’t be offended,” you offer her what you hoped was a comforting smile. “and I mean if something’s happened, you can talk to me… if you want .” 

Vi feels her throat clog because there’s genuine concern in your eyes and how is she meant to tell you that she just got into a huge fight because she wanted, chose, to be here with you tonight. 

She can't so she says-

“Just got into a disagreement with a-uh friend. It’s nothing, promise. Now hit play otherwise it’ll be you who makes us miss the first few minutes,” she finishes with a teasing grin and hoping you didn’t notice the way she stumbled over the word friend.

You did. But, you don’t say anything and, soon you forget about it all together because Tyler Lockwood just triggered his werewolf curse!!)

Taking turns to cook and having dinner together most nights - turns out neither of you knew how to cook for one person so, it was easier to just cook for both.

It’s how the two of you end up in Vi’s kitchen on a Wednesday night. 

Topic of conversation: family, parents, childhood and everything in between. 

You were both still learning about each other.

You learned Vi’s parents had passed away in the Zaun Revolution.

She and her sister, Powder, were adopted by her dad, Vander, who was an old friend of her parents.

They also had two brothers- Mylo & Claggor.

Vander raised them all with the help of another old friend of her parents, Silco. 

You recognised both of their names.

“Wait- how do you know who they are?” Vi looks at you with curious eyes. 

“Because, I’m from here? And I think I would know my cities leaders,” you say, laughing, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait- so you are from here?”

“Yes… have we not had this conversation before?”

"Nope," and Vi is pleased to learn that she was right about you, after all.

You were from Zaun, you just didn’t grow up in Zaun which is why she had never met you before.

Your parents were Zaunite scientists who initially worked for Former Councillor Heimerdinger at The University of Piltover but, following his retirement, they now worked for Councillor Talis and his partner, Viktor, so you had spent the majority of your life in Piltover.

Vi’s mood shifts at the mention of Jayce Talis.

“For Jayce Talis, huh?” Vi questions, casting a sideways glance at you. “He’s uh- he’s pretty close to the Kiramman’s… your family, are they um- like, close to any of them?” 

Vi doesn’t know why she asks that. (She does).

But there was no taking it back now.

She shakes her head at herself and peeks at you from the corner of her eye, hoping you don’t notice the odd question or the way her hand slows on dicing the last of the vegetables.

You don’t.

Not missing a beat, you fire up her stove, place a pan on top of it and answer her question.

“With Jayce? I mean, yeah? Sort of? My parents work for him so they’ve spent a lot of their time over the years with him in the lab but, they’re way closer to Viktor. Grew up down the road from each other and all that so, he’s practically family and well… Jayce is his family. They’re kind of a package deal, so Jayce is around a lot much to the initial annoyance of my parents but they’ve learned to indulge him.”

Finishing up with the vegetables, Vi turns to face you, leaning against the counter with her arms folded across her chest. 

Your eyes can’t help but stray for a brief moment to look at the swell of muscles in her arms that flex from the movement.

“Learned to indulge him?” 

“Yeah… I mean- he means well and he’s really nice but he’s still… unlearning some of his prejudicial misconceptions about Zaun and her people but... he's getting there,” you breathe a short, wry laugh. “Slowly but surely.” 

Your words hit a little too close to home for Vi and she clears her throat uncomfortably, pushing off the counter to start cleaning the bench so she can distract herself while you stand over the stove and cook. 

“And as for the Kiramann’s, I mean I went to school with Councillor Cassandra’s daughter, Caitlyn but-”

Vi drops the dish in her hand and it lands in the sink with a loud clang!

The sound makes you jump and you ask her if everything’s okay-

“Yeah, yeah, all good,” Vi wipes a sweaty hand across the back of her trackies with a nervous chuckle. “Just a slip of the hand- sorry, why are we talking about Caitlyn Kiramann?” 

Vi tries not to sound defensive, tries her best to sound casual but it comes out as anything but, her voice short and clipped.

You pause for a moment - was she... annoyed with you? - then breathe a sigh of disbelief, confused by the sudden whiplash- 

“Vi… you asked me about the Kiramann’s,” you remind her. “I was just answering your question.”

“I did?” 

“Yeah, you did-” you retort, feeling a little exasperated and desperate for answers because there had been a steady build up of- this.

Whatever the hell this was. 

After that night when she showed up late to your place, you noticed that something was off.

She seemed to be eating less, drinking more on the weekends and sleeping even less. 

Then there were the bruises and scuffs that were making more frequent appearances across her face and all over her body.

You were pretty certain those weren’t coming from the sparring matches she participated in, in the gym as she so claimed.

Despite all of that however, the routine the two of you had fallen into hadn’t changed- Vi was still showing up for you.

But... even you could see that it was becoming  exhaustive for her, light snores more frequently leaving her lips from where she’d laid her head on your lap only minutes into whatever tv show or movie the two of you had started but, every time you offered to cancel, she’d flat out refuse.

“Me? Cancel?” she’d scoff.  “And miss my favourite part of the day? Yeah, right, angel face. Not getting rid of me that easily” 

You had made it a point not to comment because you weren’t sure how’d she react if you began to more forcefully pry into her life considering she had already shut down your several attempts to check in with her before.

But, this time you don’t give her a pass.

 “Vi, are you sure everything’s okay? I just feel like you’ve been really off lately and you keep saying you’re fine but, you’re clearly not. You can talk to m-” 

 “I said I’m fine!” Vi snaps and you freeze.

The tension is palpable and hangs suffocatingly between the two of you.

Neither of you move.

Neither of you say anything.

Save for the water dripping from the kitchen faucet and the food sizzling on the stove, there is nothing but silence.

Vi stares at you wide-eyed and caught off guard by her own outburst and you blink back at her in surprise. 

You’re the first one to make a move- releasing a slow, controlled breath.

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” you utter, removing the kitchen towel from your shoulder.

Your words breathe life back into Vi and colours her face with a molotov cocktail of emotions before she settles on a regretful grimace. 

 “Shit- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I think you’ve had a long week, Violet,” you interrupt her apology and turn the stove off. “In fact, I think you’ve had a long couple of weeks and if you’re not going to let me in on your problems then maybe you should just leave me out of it.” 

With that, you leave without sparing her a backward glance. 

-

Everything would make sense the following Monday however, after a weekend spent at your parents in Piltover.

You would learn exactly what the problem had been or, who the problem had been, you should say.

You and Vi had never really discussed each other’s love lives but you figured she was clearly fucking someone/s (the sex shop order was a strap harness) and it led you to make assumptions about her. 

Assumptions that were inclusive of:

1. Vi didn’t have one (a love life) - not in a monogamous type way at least - because she never mentioned a girlfriend (why would she omit that, right?) and never brought anyone over.

2. Vi was a player, a serial sleep-arounder, ladykiller, skirt chaser, philanderer- whatever the hell people called it nowadays.

The point was, you found it hard to believe that someone as hot and kind and charming and smart and funny as Vi wasn’t getting laid and frequently - if she wasn't in a relationship then she had to be pulling an insane amount of pussy.  

But, as it turned out, both your assumptions about Vi had been very wrong. 

No, she had a third, more terrible thing going on…

An on-again, off-again girlfriend.

-

“Why are we talking about Caitlyn Kiramann, huh?” you cock your head at Vi with a raised brow from the bottom of the steps.

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonnie 2025. All rights reserved.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

The Salesman | SFW alphabet + being obsess with his wife

Can be read as part of this

Template credit

Warnings: Parts with Suggestive things - Obsess!Salesman - Wife!Reader - Possessive!Salesman - Grammar mistakes -

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

The Salesman its not someone who usually shows affection or gets said feeling towards anyone. In fact for most years he thought he was unable to feel such a thing.

But then you came into his life and shattered that thought. He ended stalking you around Seoul, getting to know you before he did a first approach. He called it fazynation at first, but when he finally got to know you for real he fell hard for you.

His ways of showing affection are quality time together, since he has some complicated hours at work he looks out for things you two can do together. Avoids the places where he usually goes.

Words, he loves calling you cute nicknames and telling you how well you did something. No matter what it was he makes a big deal out of it.

Contact, if he could take you everywhere with him, he would. He needs to have you by his side, being able to touch you its a must. He needs one kiss from you for his day to be good.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Most likely you two would be friends if you two used to work for the Organization and shared the same twisted dark mind set back then.

Like that he is a chaotic one, he does not like breaking the rules, in fact he lives by them. But would push your limits both inside the island and outside.

If you two worked as recruiters then you two would have friendly competitions on who can get more peopel into the games and bet on them once the games starts.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

YES. He is a big softie for his wife. After a long day of seeing the kind of peopel he hates the most he comes home needing you. 

Will drag you to either the bed or the expensive couch the saw you seeing one time and got it for you, cause why not? The best for his wife.

Will hug you from behind, let his head fall on your shoulder and whisper how much he loves you and how happy he is with you.

If you two lay down then he would like to have you pressed against his chest, facing him so he can give you small kisses or being the small spoon so he can hug you against him and act as a shiled from the world.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

THIS MAN SAW YOU AND WAS ALTERADY PLANNING THE WEEDING.

He is actually good at both. He likes to keep his home clean and prefers food that he made himself. However he cant compare his coking skills with yours. After the first time he tried your food he was unable to make himself food again. Why ? Because yours its just better!! And dont ask him to eat fast food, he hates it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Oh sweet you, he would NEVER break up with you.

If for some reason you start to act strange and distant yourself from him he will gashlight you and blame you, manipulating the situation on his favor so you would feel bad for even think about it.

No. He needs you like his lungs needs air, he cant and wont ever let you go. He would destroy your personal life first so you would have no one to reach for.

You are his light and muse, he wont let you go.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

FAST. As I said he saw you and he was planning the weeding.

Even if he wants to get married fast he would work himself to be seen as a proper future husband. If you have friends then he would act as a gentlemen and even make them jealous of you. Your family would love him to no end, and would joke about when the weeding will be.

Your mom/dad may beg you to marry him since he is a good man and wants the best for you.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

SFW: SOFTIE. Loves to hold you close, smell your perfume and have your hands around him. It helps him ground himself down when he is too stressed.

Emotionally he is complicated, for you he is a open book at least with his feelings of devotion towards you. He is very vocal by how much he cares for you and how happy you make it. When it comes to personal matters, mostly his work he prefers to keep you in the dark about it. He does not want you to see him any different.

NSFW: At first in order to not scare you away he would be gentle and vanilla with you in bed. Then he would slowly introduce you to his depraved and dark side of it.

Does he manipulate you into giving in? Yes, yes he does. But you wont ever notice it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes them, his hugs are short but with full of meaning. He likes to give you one during the mornings and at night.

Its a routine he has, he needs to at least give you one during the day.

On special times his hugs will be longer, maybe in your anniversary, he will hold you in his arms against his chest letting you listen to his heart beat.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

In is mind, he tells you the L word just days after starting dating you, or even while he stalked you.

He knows he loves you, but wants you to say it to him first so he can respond pulling all his heart in these words.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He gets easily jealous, not because he does not trust you. But because he wants you all for himself.

Not only does he gets jealous over strange males, but over your friends too.

If he feels like you are passing too much time with them, then he will use his charm to keep you away from them.

If things gets more serious...then he will just make them dissapear, he may torture them or take two at times and makes them play a deadly game but the catch is..no one has a chance of winning.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Oh! His kisses are full of love and passion, his favorite spot its defenetly your lips. He loves to kiss them till they end all red and puffy.

Your neck is another place, he likes to leave both, small kisses and long ones in order to leave marks behind.

He likes to be kissed by you on his lips, neck, cheeck and hands. The last one its his personal favorite since it makes him feel less of a monster...or does not care what he does as long as you like his hands.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Actually no.

He can fake around kids that are not his but he does not want kids with you.

He wants to live a long life with you and only you. He wants your attention only on him.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Depends on how the night activities went.

Sometimes he lets you sleep while he gets ready but he finds you making him breakfast. Thats a thing that always happen.

If he feels like he wants to spend more time with him then he would ask you to shower with him, and help him dress for the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Depends on how he wants the night to go and and what time he gets back.

If he comes early and just wants to spend quiality time with you, you two would watch a movie or talk for a bit.

And if he wants to do another tnings...well you two are in for a long time.

If he comes home late then he would prefer you to be asleep, since he still has to shower and other things.

But you usually wait for him awake or wake up once he gets in, you like to see his tired face light up when he sees how much you worry over him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Its complicated. He likes how you see him and only know of his depraved side when it comes to sex.

He may twist the truth about his past and what he does for work, maybe with a few years he will reveal something more, but nothing that would scare you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has much patience, needs it for his work and it traslates to your relationship. Its not like you can do more to break his patience, he deals with worse things.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers every single detail.

Even since he stalked you and got all your personal information, its like his second life.

What you like and dislike, what type of music, food, colors and activities, he remembers all of it.

Its impossible for him to forget a single detail when it comes to you.

He remembers your the special dates, from the first time he saw you to the first date you to had.

Your anniversary date its printed on his mind, you will find the most romantic dinner waiting for you, the most relaxing day just for you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment its one centrain day, the day you told him you loved him.

It was a sunny day of spring, both of you were walking around a park, seeing the flowers and nature as well as other couples.

He had stopped to buy you some sweet and was enjoying seeing you munch over them.

"You know, we have been dating for some time now" You said to him, stopping to look up at him.

Taking a deep breath you added "And I cant keep this hide from you anymore, I love you, I have never feel loved like this before. And I have never loved someone so much before, it makes my heart feel heavy in a good way. And I want you to know it, I love you"

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is very protective over you.

While he knows the organization wont do anything to you unless you do something to interfer with the games he feels at ease with that.

He does not trust the peopel.

He hacks your phone so he can know where you are at all hours. Has cameras at his home and a security system in case someone breaks in.

He even teachs you to use a gun and fight just in case.

(Having you around him its just a plus)

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

LOTS. Each date, anniversary and gift suprasses the last one.

He will ask you what you biggest dream is and make it come true. Gets you the best gifts and take you to the most fancy and fun dates.

Even once you two are married he likes to still take you out like old times.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He is:

A stalker.

Manipulative

Gaslighter

Possessive

Control freak but hides it.

He is a red flag, a walking one. But even that he gets all softie for you, his dear wife.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Well, he knows he is good looking and likes to take care of how he looks. But only for you.

Wants to look handsome and well dress for you. Does not care if he catches the eyes of others, he just wants you to look at him and tell him how good looking he is.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Totally. He never felt complete before, always alone and going on with his days. He never cared if he felt lonely, not till he met you from afar and then for real.

To him, you are his soulmate, his other half, his human side and lover. The one who grounds himself and brights his life.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Honestly if he ends being obsess with you he may ignore whatever thing he may dislike from you.

Does this mean he would not try and change you? Oh no, he would.

Something he dislikes is disobedicneic, if he tells you to not ask about his work he expects you to do as told. You cant follow, you cant enter his office...

Thats what he hates the most.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Before meeting you, he would sleep six hours. And thats it. His nights are plagued with nightmares and lots of times he would wake up before his alarm and look outside the window, towards the dark till the sun comes out and the lights of other houses starts to get on.

But once he meets you, he becomes a heavy sleepier, he loves to cuddle you during the night, with you by his side his nightmares are gone. His six hours passed to be eight hours, more if he feels greedy and want to stay besides you some more.

[yamumsyadadd]

change

Part of the Mariquita universe. Others can be found here:

mariquita , mami and mama, accident, different

Talks of adoption trauma, birth, anxiety. Little over 6k.

There was a weird energy around the apartment, it was hard for you to pinpoint exactly what it was. 

After the suspension from school and then removal and enrolment into the new school, you thought you’d be grounded. No tv, no iPad, no fun. But that wasn’t the case at all. Besides going shopping for a new school uniform, no one said anything about it. 

During Christmas dinner, your Abuela seemed to be stuck to you like glue. Whenever you went, she went. If you wanted a drink, she was up before you finished the sentence. Constantly filling your plate up with food to the point where you felt sick. When you finally got home, you asked your Mami about it. 

“Is abuela dying?” 

“Que? Why would you say that?” 

“She wouldn’t leave me alone. stuck to me like a baby.” At the word baby, both Olga and Alexia tensed. They were keeping a secret, a big secret that would change the way everything was. 

“I think she’s just sad you’re growing up. You used to be so little and cute.” Your Mami pinched your cheeks affectionately. 

“Maybe you should have another baby so she can annoy it.” The air in the room changed again, but you were either blissfully unaware or just didn’t care. 

“Right, it’s late, you should go to sleep. We have a busy few days!” Your Mami all but shoved you down the hallway. Turning back to Olga and waiting until the cost was clear, “this is going to be harder then I thought.” 

“we could just tell her amor. I think she’ll be happy.” 

“A few more days okay? We’ll go away, just the three of us, spend some quality time together and then we can tell her in the new year.” 

The break between Christmas and new year, have your family some much needed rest. La Molina ski resort was only two hours from Barcelona. It was far enough away to feel like a proper holiday but close enough that if needed, your family could return quickly. 

The hotel room was big enough to fit you, your Mami, abuela and tia alba if they were invited. There were two beds in your room, secretly deciding to sleep in both just because you could. 

Neither your Mami or Olga joined you for skiing, which wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary, the last time you went to the snow, only Olga joined and she wasn’t very good so since then she has watched. Ice skating however, that’s something you’d do, the three of you, at the Christmas markets in Mollet, sometimes tia alba would join but she was even worse at ice skating then Olga was at skiing. 

You were sent to join the kids club for a few hours while Olga and your Mami relax, alexia insisted, stating it would be good for you to make new friends, as if you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the school year making new friends. 

Skiing was fun, freeing. You suppose it’s how your Mami nd mama feel when they play football or how Olga feels when she’s on a plane to a different city. You like skiing, more than you’ve ever liked football, but it was a winter sport and it’s didn’t usually snow cold to Barcelona so it’s just a holiday sport to you. 

For a few hours you were gone, Mami and Olga were relaxing, brain storming ideas on how to tell you the big news. Well, the two big events that were going to be happening. They decided that after lunch was the best time to do so. 

“Marquita, we need to talk to you about something.” It was Olga who spoke, wiping her hands on the paper towel. 

“Am I in trouble?”

“No Bebé! Not at all. We are moving.”

“What? Where?” 

“Sant Just Desvern. Into a house, one with more bedrooms, a backyard. Closer to your new school and to the Joan.” 

“Oh. Am I, am I coming too?” If alexia wasn’t so wrapped up in all the big changes that were about to happen she would’ve realised the extent of the question. 

“OF course you are Mari! You get first pick on what bedroom you want, and we will go shopping for however you want to decorate it.” 

It went silent after that. There was still  trauma and anxiety about what happened to you before alexia and Jenni adopted you. Sometimes, it would creep up. Usually you did a good job of communicating it, either with your Mami and mama or with Tia Maria or Alba, even abuela. But this felt too big, too scary. 

For the last eight years, that apartment had been your home. It’s where Alexia and Jenni bought you home too, it’s where Nala lived, where mama lived and now, now you were moving into a new house that Nala never lived in and Mama wouldn’t be. 

The next three days flew by, you do more skiing, ice skating, sledding, all alone. You didn’t know the reason behind your Mami not letting Olga join, you knew your Mami wouldn’t go ice skating but she did join the sledding. If either woman had slowed down they would’ve realised that you were pulling away. 

When you arrived back to Barcelona on New Year’s Eve, your Mami told you there would be another present for you to open with your abuela and tia. You were slightly confused, having already gotten everything on your Wishlist. So as you sat there on the couch, your abuela and tia next to you, Olga and your Mami in front with three boxes on your laps, you were still confused as to what it could be. 

You opened it when they said you could, inside the box it contained 3 things. A photo of an ultrasound (which you didn’t understand), a baby jersey with ‘Putellas 11’ on the back and a shirt that said ‘world’s best big sister’. But you completely missed the shirt. Your Mami had put the shirt in the box the wrong way around.

It took a moment for everything to understand and then the chaos unfolded. Abuela and tia alba were crying, hugging both Olga and your Mami while you just sat there. 

“Mariquita? Do you understand?” Your Mami asked as she sat in front of you. 

In your mind, the blob was cancer, the jersey was confusing though. “Olga has cancer? Why are we celebrating that? How will I be a big sister if Olga has-“ it clicked in your brain, the blob wasn’t cancer it was a baby, “oh. Not cancer, a baby.” 

“Yes a baby.” Your Mami chuckled, “we are having a baby and you’ll be a big sister.” 

“Cool.” You gave a thumbs up towards Olga, unsure of what else to do. 

“Cool? That’s it?” 

“What else am I meant to say? Good luck?” 

“Jeez ale, she really is your daughter.” Alba laughed, ruffling your hair. It was no secret alexia was awkward and it seems you truly inherited that trait. 

Both Olga and alexia sat down on the couch next to you, Eli snapping a photo of the three of you. Your mind was full of anxiety. Anxiety about moving house, about the new school and needing to make new friends but mostly about the baby. 

As you lay in bed, the clock on your bedside table illuminating 3.13am, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling. The last time a baby was on the way was when you were in your last foster home, they were meant to adopt you, citing that they couldn’t have kids. Then they fell pregnant, cancelling the adoption and sending you back. You were only four then but it filled you with doubt. Would your Mami and Olga send you away too? Would you go to mamas or back into a foster home? 

Those thoughts consumed you for months. When you finally moved into the new house, you picked the room the furthest from your Mami and Olga’s room. You turned extra quiet. In your mind, if you were quiet then they would forget you were there. They wouldn’t send you away because they wouldn’t remember you were there. 

It back fired though, of course it did. Mama was coming to Madrid for Easter, your Mami agreed that you would go to Madrid and spend a few days with her then come back home and do Easter with the Putellas-Rios family. 

For four days you forgot about the impending doom that was waiting for you at home. For four days your mama and her family treated you like a princess, spoiling you and reminding you of how loved you were. 

On the flight home you turned quiet again, your mama noticed, pulling you up on it straight away. 

“Princess, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing mama.” 

“You can tell me. You don’t have to lie bebé.” 

“Imscaredillbesentaway.” You said it so fast, your heart beating out of your chest, making you want to throw up. 

“Can you say that again for me? More slow this time.” 

You took a deep breath, refusing to look at your mama, “I’m scared I’ll be sent away when the baby comes. Mami and Olga won’t want me anymore.” 

“It won’t happen. You’re here to stay, forever. Why would you think that?” 

“It happened before. Before you and Mami. So it’ll happen again.” 

“No! No it won’t. You’re not going anywhere, you’re our daughter. Mine, mamis, and Olga’s. You’re our first baby, no one in this world would be able to take you.” Jenni spoke with so much conviction that apart of you believed her. 

“Do you promise?” 

“I promise. On everything. On my career, on your mamis. I promise.” Jenni’s heart broke at your lack of believing. She knew you took change hard but had hoped that as you grew up, you were more welcome to it. She guesses you just hide it easier. 

When you both arrived at the Barcelona airport and made it through security, Alexia and Olga were both waiting. Big smiles on their faces as their excitement to have you back was evident. You on the other hand, tensed the minute you saw them. Jenni knew she only had a limited amount of time to talk to alexia before her flight back to Madrid. 

“Ale, I need to talk to you.” She pulled alexia’s arm, trying to get her away from Olga and you. Olga noticed and nudged you away from them. 

“Everything alright?” 

“No. I know you’re excited to be having a baby with Olga but I’m worried you’re forgetting about y/n.” 

“What are you talking about? How could I forget her?” 

“She’s scared you’ll send her away when the baby comes Ale. She said it. Look at her, really look at her.” They both turned to look at you. You were hitting your hand against your leg, something you did when you were anxious. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground, refusing to look at Olga when she spoke. “That’s not the same kid I just spent 4 days with.” 

It seemed that both Olga and Alexia realised at the same time. Olga looked up with wide eyes, slightly panicked at the fact you weren’t engaging with her as usual, alexia on the other hand looked at you with her eyes full of tears. 

Arriving home didn’t bring you comfort, going to your room at the end of the house didn’t bring the calmness you thought it would. Instead it left you feeling empty and sad. 

The next few days were hard. Your Mami and Olga tried to talk to you, even going as far to get Mapi involved with Pina, Patri and Cata but nothing worked. You were stuck in a rut of anxiety and scaredness. 

Olga finally got you to crack, your Mami regretfully had to go away again for a game. Meaning she’d leave you while you were clearly going through something and she’d miss an ultrasound with Olga. 

The morning of the ultrasound, Olga all but dragged you out of the house. She too was feeling a mix of emotions. Despite both alexia and Jenni saying she was just as much as a parental figure to you as they were, she couldn’t help but feel on the outside. She hoped this baby would form as a bridge to you. Something you had more in common, but instead it was causing a wedge between all of you. 

You both cried at the ultrasound, seemingly for different reasons but at the time, Olga was optimistic that it was for the same reason. Seeing the baby. 

When you returned home you disappeared to your room very quickly, only to return with a duffle bag and backpack. 

“Can you take me to Eli’s please?” 

“What?” Olga was confused, Alexia never said anything about you staying there while she was gone. 

“You have your kid. You don’t want me here, Mami doesn’t want me here, so can you please take me? If you can’t it’s fine. I know how to get there.” 

“Y/n no. I’m not taking you to Eli’s-“ it came out a lot harsher than she anticipated. She realised as soon as the words left her mouth, “I’m sorry. What I meant is, this is your home. Now and forever. It doesn’t matter if I’m having a baby, no one can ever replace you. You’re our mariquita. You belong here, in this family.” 

“People have said that before and then they change their minds. This is what’s best. I leave and you and Mami can have the baby in peace. It’s okay Olga. I’ll catch the bus.” You were gone before she could argue. 

You heard the apartment door close behind you, Olga’s footsteps approaching as fast as she could, “mariquita please wait!” The fire staircase locked behind you as you ran down the stairs towards the exit. You knew it locked, you knew Olga would be stuck waiting for a lift, so it gave you time to figure how to get the bus. 

Olga raced back to the apartment only to realise her keys were inside. The door was locked and she was on the wrong side of the door. As if this whole thing couldn’t get any worse. 

In panic she rang alexia, which was the worst idea she could’ve had and as soon as alexia started to panic, she hung up. You said you were going to Eli’s, so she rang Eli who then rang alba who then rang the rest of her family. Soon enough the entire Putellas family was out hunting for you. 

You had a phone, she could’ve rang you, but in her panic she forgot about that. Alexia didn’t though, she rang you. Multiple times. Each time you watched it ring out, too afraid of her confirming the fact that she was going to ‘return you’. 

After what felt like hours, you finally arrived to Mollet. The sun was setting so you knew you had to go fast. Eli was there when you arrived, running out the front door when she saw you come up the driveway. 

“Mariquita! Dios mío you scared me. You scared us all! What were you thinking!” 

“Mami and Olga don’t want me anymore. You know how to book flights so I wanted to come here. Olga said she wouldn’t take me so I took the bus.” 

“They don’t want to get rid of you! What are you talking about?” Eli was in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that you truly felt that way, or that her daughter would give you that idea. 

“It’s happened before! Why aren’t people understanding! Mami and Olga are finally having a baby, making their own family. Their OWN. I’m not apart of that. This family is no longer mine, and that’s okay. If you won’t help me get to mama, I’ll figure it out myself.” 

“No. You will come inside and we will wait for your Mami and Olga. You will eat dinner and have a shower but you’re not leaving and I am not booking you a flight.” 

You ate in silence, much to Eli’s dismay. She tried and tried to get more answers out of you, giving up when she realised you wouldn’t talk anymore. Seeing you this way, being selectively mute, reminded her of the first time she met you. 

You were a tiny four year old. Both alexia and alba were at least double your weight when they were your age. It shocked Eli, alexia had warned her but no amount of warning could stop the feelings that she felt when she saw you. 

Both Eli and Alba had been waiting patiently to meet you. They were told from the beginning that you were different, suffered from trauma that neither Alexia nor Jenni fully understood. To Eli, you were perfect. 

The social worker warned Alexia and Jenni about the trauma you had endured and that they weren’t sure about how much you remembered or what you saw. When things got overwhelming you went mute. It was a coping mechanism and over the years, with lots of therapy and love, that habit disappeared. 

As you stood behind Alexia’s legs, peaking through every so often, you looked tiny. There were healing bruises on your arms. Not in the way kids normally get bruises. 

It took a long time for you to say anything more than “hola” to her. She remembers the day like it was yesterday. You had scored a goal against Mapi and you were so excited. Smashing through the front door, without evening taking your shoes off. 

Eli cried that night. She cried about how happy you looked, how happy you were and how you actually spoke. 

It was now the opposite, you weren’t that shy little four year anymore. But old habits die hard. Sometimes it’s easier to go mute than to focus on what was truly happening. 

Olga was waiting in the spare room when you got out of the shower. Or the room that used to be alexia’s room. Littered with photos of her and her friends as they grew up, a few of her and your mama, alba too. It was a time capsule, for you it felt overbearing. You didn’t have friends like she did, you’d have a sibling in four months but it wouldn’t be the same as her and alba. 

“Mariquita. We need to have a proper conversation. I want you to tell me everything. If you truly can’t, I will wait for your Mami, but you need to talk. No more pretending everything is fine.” 

“Okay.” You say on the floor, your knees pressed against your chest, your back hard against the wall. “What do you want me to say first?” 

“How did you feel when we told you we were having a baby?” 

“Scared. Excited. Anxious. Jealous.” 

“Can you elaborate please?” 

“Before Mami and mama, I was with this other couple. They couldn’t have kids for whatever reason and they were going to adopt me. A few weeks before they found out they were having a baby and cancelled the adoption. Literally just palmed me off. Then the kids at the group home would say how no one wanted me and whatever. I didn’t think I believed it but I guess I did. 

You and Mami would have this experience, you being pregnant I mean, Mami and mama didn’t have that with me, so I feel like this baby is better than me in that sense. Mama is so far away and I was scared that if you decided to get rid of me that she wouldn’t get here in time and I’d just be on the street.

I picked the room furthest from the others because I thought, I thought if I did that you would forget I was there. It would be sad to be forgotten but I would have somewhere safe to stay. 

Then you said you wouldn’t bring me here and I panicked. I thought someone was going to come and take me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Sobs racked your body, and for the first time Olga saw you as the little girl Alexia described. Broken, scared and tiny. Right then in her mind, you weren’t the twelve year old she’d grown to love, you were a tiny four year old. Scared of what was to come. 

“No Mariquita. No sorry. You were scared, that’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared, anxious and whatever else you want to feel. You’re allowed to feel it all but you’re safe here, with you Mami, mama and with me. Yes, this will be the first baby I give birth too, but it’s not my first kid.” You looked up at her, not realising she had moved in front of you, “you’re my first kid Mariquita. You’re as much my daughter as you are to your Mami and mama. I know it is a big change, you’re scared and truthfully I am scared. Terrified actually. But I know you’re going to be the best big sister ever and this baby is lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you.” 

You let yourself fall into Olga’s arms. You were both crying, hanging onto each other for dear life. When alexia arrived to her mamis house, all guns blazing, she was met with a stern Eli. Giving her daughter an ear full about the way she spoke to Olga. Olga however didn’t hold a grudge. She knew Alexia was panicking, she was also panicking. 

“Ale, she needs therapy, she needs help. Don’t be mad at her, you can be mad at me but not her.”

“I’m not mad. I’m sorry, I was just so scared. I didn’t want to leave as it was and then I did and this happens? What do we do olgi?” 

“We start by moving her room, closer to ours.” Alexia gave her girlfriend a confused look, “she took that room in case we didn’t want her anymore. She’d be far away so she’d stay out of the way and have somewhere to stay.” 

Alexia let the tears fall, wrapping an arm around Olga as they wanted you sleep. “How did things get so fucked up?” 

“We will fix it. All of it.” Instead of waking you and leaving for their own house, both alexia and Olga climbed into bed with you. The game was the last thing on Alexia’s mind. All she wanted was for her family to be happy, for you to be happy. 

Fix it they did. It started with moving your room, something you were still on edge about, even with all the reassurance. Then it was the therapy, twice a week. Once with the school counsellor and once with the clubs psychologist. 

Neither Alexia nor Olga spoke about the baby around you, both families were also on strict instructions not too. Both therapists agreed that it would be better for now, if you wanted to know, you would ask. It wasn’t that you hated this unborn baby, it was that you were still scared about being ‘returned’. 

Olga had an ultrasound coming up, it was to find out the gender and your Mami wanted you there. They had put off finding out the gender for the last two months because they wanted you there to enjoy it. She wanted this to be a family event, something that would bring you all join but she also knew not to push you. 

“Mari, bebé, can you come here for a sec?” 

“Mami I promise I’ll clean my room!”

“It’s not about that.” Your Mami laughed. “I want to ask you a question. If you don’t feel comfortable and want to stay here or with Alba that’s fine. There’s no pressure at all. Okay?”  

“Okay?”

“Today Olga has an ultrasound to find out the gender. I want to invite you, again there’s no pre-“

“Yeah I’ll come.” To you, it was no longer a big deal. You were mostly excited for the baby, still a little nervous about the change. Your Mami was sat gobsmacked on the couch as you walked away, finally going to clean your room. 

Olga got in the car, completely unaware of your presence until you asked a simple question, to which she let out a bloody curling scream, clutching her chest. All you and your Mami could do was laugh. She didn’t ask any questions about what you were doing, only giving Alexia a look that said ‘we will talk later.’ 

‘A boy.’ The technician announced. 

A flurry of movement happened in that moment. Your Mami had pulled you towards her and Olga, a group hug forming. There were tears, happy tears. And when your Mami looked at you sadly you made sure to emphasise that were happy. 

There was a question bobbing around in your head though. How did Olga get pregnant. Obviously you were given a simple sex talk in school and by both your mothers, but it never occurred to you that two women would have sex differently. That was something you would need to google when you got home, not wanting to deal with the awkwardness of asking your Mami or Olga. 

“Ice cream time?” Your Mami smiled as she pulled you into her side. 

“I definitely want ice cream.” Olga piped up. 

You interlinked your hands with Olga’s, swinging them, laughing and smiling as you went along for the journey to the ice cream parlour. 

As all three of you sat there laughing and eating your ice cream, all alexia could think about is how lucky she was. There would be more bumps in the road, but right now everyone was happy. You were laughing and smiling with Olga, it was definitely a sight for sore eyes. 

The following two months were basically spent fussing over Olga and her ever growing baby bump. She referred to you and your Mami as ‘the twins’. Forever asking if she needed something or offered to get it for her, even going so far as to guide her to the bathroom when Alexia was away for a game. 

You were certainly the mediator between them somedays. Alexia going on about how the baby doesn’t need more clothes, or shoes, or toys but you would side with Olga. Or when Alexia wanted Olga to stay in bed to relax, you were at her side encouraging her to do so. 

The biggest surprise came when you asked what the birth plan was. 

“I don’t know. Push it out and hope I don’t poop?” 

Alexia was bewildered, “why do you ask? How do you know what a birth plan is?” 

“I googled it.” You shrugged, “I’ve also watched birthing videos on YouTube. You’ll probably shit yourself.” 

“Not helpful!” 

“Is that something you want to be involved in?” Your Mami asked as she rang her fingers through your hair, making a mental note to book you in for a haircut soon. 

“If that’s what Olga wants.” 

“I do. But you don’t have to. It’ll probably be gross.” 

“Oh it’ll definitely be gross.” Both adults laughed as you scrunched your nose. 

“Can I leave if it gets too much?” 

“Of course Mari! Eli and my mami will be in the waiting room.” 

“Along with half the team no doubt.” 

It was settled, you would be there to watch your little brother come into this world. The option to leave was there if you wanted to take it. There was truly only one question still in your mind: how did Olga get pregnant?

As the final month began, everyone around was on edge, expect for you. You have read everything, watch hours and hours of YouTube videos. You were ready. Emotionally, you were better. Talking candidly with your mami and mama whenever they asked, Olga too. 

If you needed to deliver the baby in the lounge room, you could do that. If you needed to drive her to the hospital, illegally, you could do that. Thanks to bullying Mapi into teaching you how to drive when she was supposed to be watching you for a date night. 

You and Olga had secretly bought and packed a second hospital bag, knowing the minute Olga’s water broke, your mami would be insane. And she was. 

A week after the baby’s due date, Olga’s water broke. She was sitting outside on the chairs enjoying the sun when it happened. Her contractions weren’t as frequent as the hospital required, once every 15 or so minutes. But as soon as she told Alexia, she went crazy. 

Both of you found it amusing, watching her run around the house trying to find things she would need, offering Olga the hair straightener, hair drier, a scrubbing brush? She wouldn’t relax until you called your abuela. When Eli arrived, Olga’s contractions were 12 minutes apart, Alexia looked like she was going to throw up, pass out and cry all at once. 

Even though she was running around like a headless chook, every time a contraction hit she was right there by Olga’s side. Helping her breathe through it. For someone so calm and collected when it came to football, she was truly the opposite right now. Your abuela couldn’t help but laugh when she saw what her daughter was doing. 

Between every contraction Alexia was off cleaning something, as if they had not organised for the cleaner to come while Olga was in labour. 

“Mami? What are you doing?” Curiosity got the best of you, finding your mami in the wardrobe going through her sock drawer. 

“Mari! Good you’re here, help me go through these please. I think some of these socks are yours.” 

“No mami.” You laughed at her truly panicked state, you couldn’t wait to tell Mapi about it, “Olga’s in labour and you’re in here organising your socks? Do you think that’s a good use of your time?” 

“¡Dios mío! You’re right! I need to clean your bathroom!”

“Mami no! You need to be with Olga. You’re being slightly insane right now.” 

“I’m panicking okay? I don’t know what to do!” 

“You should probably breathe and put the hospital bag in the car. It’s in the hallway closet.” 

“No, it’s next to my side of the bed. I made sure it was close.”

“Oh nah we aren’t taking that one. Olga bought another because she knew you would panic. Vamos! We are having a baby.” You smiled and skipped out of the room. 

After a very long 16 hours, it was finally time for Olga to push. Everyone was exhausted. Labour looked rough, the videos you had watched didn’t make it same as bad but it was bad. 

As Olga’s legs opened and while she was mid push, you decided to look. Why? You had no idea. 

“I’ve never seen a vagina before and that’s disgusting.” You looked like you were going to pass out. A clip to the back of your head and a stern look from your mami had you mumbling a sorry to a laughing Olga. 

It didn’t take much longer for your baby brother to be born. You were crying, Olga was crying your mami too but most importantly, your baby brother was crying. 

Truthfully, a few hours ago you were getting anxious about how the aftermath would be, but when Olga reached out for your hand, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, you knew everything would be okay. 

Your mami sent you home with Eli to shower and get some sleep. There were so many questions in your head, ones you wanted to google and ones you just wanted to ask. After a good feed and sleep, you were back to the hospital the next morning. 

Your mami was pacing the room when you got there, looking anxious and sweaty. 

“Hi? Can I come in?” You asked shyly. 

“Mari! Oh bebé, of course you can. Come here, hug me.” She squeezed you so tight and you were hitting her back to get her to stop. 

“Mami. Mami! Can’t breathe!” You spattered out. 

“Oops sorry!” She slightly pushed you away. Olga was nursing your baby brother. He looked so small, smaller than you imagine. 

“Do you want to hold him?” Olga asked, noticing you were staring. 

“Can I?” 

Your mami walked you through it, one hand supporting his head, the other his body. 

“What’s his name?” 

“Rio Jaume Putellas.” She fiddled with the beanie on his head, “rio for Olga’s last name, Jaume for my papi, Putellas for you.” Alexia wanted to cry, the way you looked at the baby was the same way she looked at Alba. Sure, there was a twelve year age gap between you and baby Rio, but that look told her everything she needed to know. You would protect him with your life, love him with your entire heart, and annoy him like any big sister would. 

Friends and family slowly trickled into the room throughout the day, when Ingrid and Mapi arrived they were so overcome with emotion that Mapi was crying. A big ugly cry. For you, it was funny. 

“I have a question.” All four adults turned to you, “I know how babies are made with a man and a woman but with two woman do you use that strap thing that has a button to make the stuff come out? I don’t really understand.” 

Everyone’s faces dropped, if baby Rio wasn’t in the bassinet, you were sure he would be on the floor. 

“What the fuck.” Mapi was the first person to say anything. 

“Y/n how do you know what that is?” Your mami used your first name, something she didn’t do very often. 

“I googled it? I wanted to be prepared for all of this.” 

“Your iPad is being taken away from you.” Was all Olga said. Poor Ingrid was still in disbelief. 

“No ipad, no phone, no tv. Anything that has the internet is gone. Absolutely not.” 

When alba walked into the tense room and saw you mami pacing, once again, she was confused. “Ah what happened?” 

“I asked if they used the strap thing that has stuff come out of it to make baby rio. Now they are broken.” You shrugged, waving your hand around at them. 

“A strap thing with stuff coming out of it?” Alba repeated back, not understanding what you were saying. “Oh. OH!” It clicked. Then she laughed, tears coming out of her eyes, stomach hurting, kind of laugh. 

“This isn’t funny Alba!” Alexia gritted. 

“Lesbian sex talk time! Are we making a PowerPoint?” A pillow was through at her, this time from Olga. 

Thankfully both your abuela and Olga’s mum arrived so the subject was changed very quickly. For you- no answers were supplied and your mami seemingly forgot about the no internet rule very quickly. 

Once everyone was home, it was weird. You weren’t 100% sure what to do, every time the baby cried you just stared at him. Unsure if you were allowed to help. One morning when it was just you and Olga in the kitchen you asked. 

“I want to help but I don’t know what to do.” 

“You’re helping Mari.” You gave her a confused look, “you make coffee for us in the morning, you changed our bed sheets the other night, every morning I come out here it’s clean. Because you do that. You’re helping in ways that are unimaginable but I want you to remember that you’re twelve. You don’t have to do all this. My mami, Eli, your mami, they can all do it.” 

She pulled you into her side, kissing your cheek. Olga was grateful for you, your mami was grateful for you, and you were grateful for them. For being patient, not getting rid of you, for loving you. 

When you rocked baby Rio to sleep, you reminded him that he was loved, safe and wanted. Something you didn’t want him to forget. 

Alexia would often cry when she saw you holding him with a big smile on her face. Or when she saw you doing tummy time with him because he was ‘lonely on the ground by himself’. 

Your family was full. Hearts were full. Love was never far away. 

[manonssunset]

"UNWRAP ME"

pairing: huh yunjin x fem!reader

synopsys: yunjin mentioned she has a special christmas surprise waiting for you. when you arrived at home, you were surprised to find out that the special gift was her, seated beneath the christmas tree, ready for you to "unwrap" her.

warnings/tags: language, smut, nsfw content under the cut, established relationship, service top!reader, yunjin is the one giving commands, lingerie, dry humping (thigh riding)

wc: +3,4k

a/n: happy new year, guys! this is my special (super late) gift for you all, also first time posting something like this on the blog. I hope you find it hot, lol. this took me longer than expected, but I’m satisfied with the way it turned out. I reduced the smut part substantially because, honestly, you would have had to wait another 10 days to read it, bye 💀. but I still wrote almost 600 words of just them kissing, so there's that.

working through christmas was always quiet and a bit annoying, with clients constantly bragging about their exotic holiday plans or the luxurious gifts they were preparing to buy. but the truth was, you had no reason to feel envious. after all, you had the most priceless gift of all: yunjin, the kind of girl most could only wish for. 

the sharp ding of your phone’s notification pulled you out of your thoughts. it was a sudden interruption, cutting through the steady rhythm of clicking fingers on keyboards, sounds that were all too familiar in the office. you glanced at the screen, expecting to see an email or maybe a quick reminder from a colleague. instead, your gaze fell on a message from your girlfriend. she often checked in on you while you worked, and you always found it endearing. 

this time, however, the message wasn’t the usual question about how work was going or a casual mention of what she was making for dinner. no, this one felt entirely different.

[jen 💋]: your special gift is waiting for you under the tree, please get home as soon as you can ;) 

[you]: 10 minutes and I'm out

the message felt playful, almost teasing, and you were thrilled at the thought of what awaited you at home. she had mentioned before that she had something special prepared just for you, a gift that, in her words, you were going to absolutely love, said in that sensual tone of hers that always left your head spinning. to say you were eager to find out what she meant was an understatement.

-♧-

your hand trembled slightly as you gripped the keys to your shared apartment, anticipation rising with every turn of the metal. when the door finally clicked open, the soothing scent of vanilla and wood greeted you, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. as you stepped inside, you were immediately struck by an unexpected darkness in the room, the only light coming from the flickering glow of candles scattered around the space.

the silence was unnerving, an absence that made you pause. the only sound was the occasional crackle of the candles, yet it felt like something, or someone, was missing. yunjin’s presence, which you had so eagerly anticipated, wasn’t there to greet you as you had expected. she had promised to show you the long-awaited gift she’d been teasing you about all week, and yet, there was no sign of her.

your gaze instinctively shifted to the bottom of the christmas tree, and for a moment, you froze. your heart skipped a beat, and it took a second for your mind to catch up with what your eyes were seeing. she was there, wearing a black silk robe, held together with a red rope tied into a bow, like some kind of living present waiting just for you. the light from the candles reflected off the fabric, giving her an almost ethereal glow. she lay on the carpet, looking up at you with an inviting, seductive gaze.

your breath caught up in your throat, and for a brief second, you weren't sure if you should move closer or stay rooted in place. you gulped as you stood still, speechless, completely captivated by the sight before you. “you're finally home, I've been waiting for you” you felt your knees weaken at the tone of her voice, filled with control and sensuality. you couldn’t form a response, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment to be able to articulate anything.

she rose with grace, and, as she closed the distance between you two, each of her steps were accompanied by heels tapping against the floor. It was as though a muse was walking towards you, her hips swaying from side to side with an elegant, almost hypnotic confidence. your heartbeat quickened as she got closer, and instinctively, you started taking steps back, your senses heightened, your mind a mix of conflicting emotions. part of you wanted to ask what was happening, but another part was curious to see where this moment would lead.

the back of your legs collided with the couch, and you suddenly felt cornered, with nowhere to go, no escape from her approaching presence. a sly smirk tugged at her lips as she closed the distance, gently pushing you to sit down. the coldness of the cushions on your skin contrasted sharply with the warmth spreading inside you. your gazes locked, and in that instant, the desire in her eyes was so intense it felt almost magnetic, drawing you in, making you want to lose yourself in her and everything she embodied.

she positioned herself comfortably on your lap, her movements slow, milky legs peeking out from beneath the robe. it was then that you noticed the meticulous attention she had paid to her makeup, each detail enhancing her beauty. she had even chosen your favorite perfume, a sweet vanilla scent that perfectly complemented the fragrance of the candles. it was clear now that she had carefully orchestrated this moment, aiming to give you a show that you were bound to enjoy.

the sudden closeness caused heat to flood your face. the slight pressure of her body pressed against yours sent your mind into overdrive. you could feel every subtle shift of her weight, making it hard to focus on anything else that wasn’t her. your hand instinctively went to her thighs, gently massaging the soft skin that radiated warmth under your fingertips. she gently traced her fingers up your arms, the light touch sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, before placing them on top of your shoulders. 

you stilled as her face inched closer, her lips just centimetres from your ear. in this proximity, the intoxicating scent of her perfume magnified tenfold, its sweetness filling your senses and clouding your thoughts. her breath was warm against your skin as she whispered “unwrap me”, her voice drenched in the same seductive tone that never failed to unsettle and allure you in. she noticed the subtle tension in your body after her words, the air thickened, growing more charged than before. your hands slowly made their way to the ribbon, fingertips grazing the soft fabric, before you finally gripped its ends. 

you trembled as you undid the knot, the cool, soft fabric of the ribbon slipping smoothly beneath your fingers. the knot was simple but each movement felt agonizingly slow, as though time itself was stretching, drawn out by the weight of her gaze. her eyes, full of expectation, never left you, and the intensity of her look made your breath catch in your throat.

you held your breath as the ribbon finally loosened, your heartbeat thudding loudly in your ears. all the anticipation that had built from the moment she’d sent that text was unraveling now, piece by piece, and you couldn’t help but feel the tension hang in the air.

your eyes followed the path of her robe as it fell open, slipping off her shoulder to reveal what she had kept hidden until now. you couldn't help it when a gasp escaped your lips as you finally took in the sight before you: yunjin, all dolled up for you, wearing nothing more than a red lace set of lingerie. it accentuated her curves in a way that left your jaw slightly open, yet her elegance remained unmistakable. her set was far from tacky or overly explicit, it clung to her body with a sensuality that balanced provocativeness and sophistication. it revealed just enough, embracing her shape while maintaining a sense of grace and modesty. 

the warm, golden hues of the room bathed her exposed skin, creating a soft, radiant glow. she resembled a living version of venus, as if she had stepped out of a renaissance painting, one that belonged in a museum. arousal swept through you as a tingling sensation began to rise. the tightness that had formed in your stomach spread lower, a pulsing ache that clouded your mind with lust. it was clear that the feeling was mutual. the intensity of her gaze and the way her eyes locked with yours was a telltale sign that she was consumed too by the same need. her restless shifting, searching for the friction she desperately craved, also spoke volume.

she broke the silence with a question, her voice quieter, tinged with an unexpected hint of uncertainty. “do you like it?” despite your obvious reaction, she still sought confirmation, her usual confidence momentarily slipping. “jen, I don't think you understand how much I love it,” you said, almost baffled by her question. it wasn’t just about the lingerie, although it was stunning, it was everything she had done for this moment, all the care and effort she had put into it, just for you. and above all, it was her, the most important person for you. “thank you, baby,” she replied, her seductive tone returning as she cupped your face with both hands and leaned closer. “now, let’s get to the good part.”

her lips crashed against yours with urgency, the relentlessness evident in the way she yanked you closer, her fingers gripping the back of your head, anchoring themselves in your hair. the contact was frantic, as if she couldn't get enough of you. she tilted her head slightly to the side, deepening the kiss as you let your hands roam her body freely, your fingers caressing her skin before resting on her waist. there was a raw desperation in the way she kissed you, as if she was trying to devour you; her longing for you was unmistakable, like she could no longer keep it contained.

the way her lips moved with yours was soothing, the warmth of her skin sinking deep into you, making everything else fade away. your bodies were so close, it was almost as if you were breathing each other in, each subtle movement heightening the feeling of intimacy. the kiss was the physical manifestation of the desire you had both been hiding, the need to feel every part of each other becoming almost overwhelming. it wasn't anymore just about meeting lips, it was about being intertwined, your bodies pressing against each other in perfect harmony. 

you both pulled away briefly, her breath was ragged and shallow, a soft whimper escaping her as you squeezed the flesh of her ass. you both lingered there, a brief pause from the intensity of the session, both of your lips slightly parted as you caught your breath, chest rising and falling in sync. her pupils were dilated, a hint of something in her eyes, an unspoken impulse that was being held back, waiting to be released. you heard her mumble a quiet “fuck it” and before you could even register her words, she tugged you forward by the collar of your shirt, your lips making contact again. 

her tongue ran gently over your lips, applying pressure as a silent invitation to enter. you granted her request, allowing her muscle to invade your mouth, lightly sucking on it. she let out a surprised gasp at the sensation, her fingers tightly gripping the fabric of your button up shirt. as you massaged your tongues together in a gentle but intense dance, teeth clicking and saliva exchanging, your hands returned around her waist, pressing into the softness of her skin. you carefully bit her bottom lip, drawing it between yours as you continued sucking. it was all too much for her, the sensation was overwhelming, and her control slowly slipped away.

she began grinding on your lap as you were still kissing, her body moving effortlessly as she chased her own pleasure. you guided her hips and pressed her down further more, and she let out little, desperate gasps every time your lips parted to allow oxygen in. you couldn't lie and say that yunjin using you as a way to get off didn't turn you on, the sensation was electrifying, and you felt your own desire seep through your panties, soaking them. 

“mmph–ahh, jesus—” her sweet moans were muffled by your lips, creating a delicious symphony that reverberated in the confines of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. the rough fabric of your work pants against her thin panties generated the ideal friction on her clit, making her mind go fuzzy. her hands roamed aimlessly, grasping and gripping whatever lay within reach: the fabric of your shirt, your arms, the back of your neck, your hair, and so on. she was riding your thigh so desperately it was almost cinematic: erratically moving her hips, grinding down, attempting to rub every time on the same perfect spot that gave her immense pleasure.

the room was starting to feel too hot for you. the heat from the candles, but especially from the union of your two bodies so close together, was becoming unbearable, so you decided to break the kiss to remove some of your clothing. after you delicately pushed yunjin back, allowing her body to rest on your legs, your eyes widened in surprise at the sight before you. it was beautiful; a clear, glassy strand of saliva was still connecting the two of you, a quiet reminder of your closeness. she was about to whine at the loss of contact when she also realized what she was seeing, and a small genuine smile tugged at her lips. 

you took advantage of the quiet moment to finally contemplate your girlfriend’s physical state: her face had a subtle pink flush that still peeped through even under her makeup, her lips were a strong red color that matched her lingerie, and they were quite swollen, an evident consequence of the kissing. her eyes were like a window to the multitude of emotions that pervaded her: delight, confidence, a bit of frustration, and, above all, desire. as your gaze moved lower down her body, you spotted a wet patch on her underwear; the fabric turned a much darker shade of red, and you wanted nothing more than to get a taste of the source of that change.

she noticed your intense stare and turned her head, flustered. “stop staring at me like that,” she said softly, her voice pulling you out of your trance as you felt her left hand brush over the skin of your face, settling on your jaw. in that moment, all your focus was on her. “no, but seriously,” she started, her tone firm like she needed you to be serious with her. “why did you stop?” her question was accompanied by a tiny pout, which made you smile, her frustration evident in her puppy-like features. you let out a slight chuckle in response, placing your hand over hers as a sign of reassurance. 

“I was honestly just too hot and wanted to take my shirt off,” you truthfully replied with a grin, finding the simplicity of your answer pretty amusing. as the words left your mouth, her pout melted away into a smile, mirroring yours. underlying her happiness though, she felt a tingling sensation begin to rise, a silent excitement at seeing you without your shirt. “do that then,” you caught her need by the urgency of her command and by the way she looked at you, as if she had already taken your shirt off with her eyes. you were more than happy to comply, gradually undoing all of your buttons just to tease her.

her whole demeanor was full of anticipation, she had folded her hands diligently on her lap while she watched you do your thing. as you slowly stripped for her, dragging out all of your movements since you knew it would turn her on more, she spotted your sculpted abs and your muscular arms, finally free of your shirt. the sight hit her all at once, causing her thighs to impulsively clench around yours and her hips to buck into the air.

heat flooded her face as she blushed in embarrassment, her reaction an obvious indication of her neediness; her head dropped into the crook of your now fully exposed neck, as if she was trying to hide from you. she took advantage of the closeness to inhale the scent your body. it was a mix of the aquatic and musky fragrance you used at work, one she could never resist whenever you wore it, mingled with the natural, comforting aroma of your skin. this mixture was fatal for yunjin, the scent did unspeakable things to her, her already soaked panties now starting to leave a wet spot on your own pants, and she was growing more desperate with each second that passed.

you were quick to detect it, knowing exactly what she was craving for in that moment, taking the lead for the first time that night. “come on, ride my thigh,” you ordered as you patted your right leg, knowing that having just one of your thighs between her legs would cause her far more friction than simply rocking into your lap. the sudden switch in your tone of voice went straight to yunjin's core as more of her fluids gushed out. she weakly nodded and stood on her trembling knees, holding onto your bare shoulders and submissively following your order. you gripped her waist to keep her stable as she moved over to your thigh, carefully positioning herself. 

“fuck!” she exclaimed when you suddenly pulled her down onto your leg with force, the unexpected contact with her sensitive clit causing her to gasp loudly in response. her face contorted with pleasure as she began riding your thigh, her hips moving like waves, crashing and withdrawing in a rhythmic pattern. “oh–oh my god,” she moaned beautifully, letting out melodic sounds with each movement of her hips. “this feels so good,” the pleasure she was experiencing led her eyes to close tightly and her mouth to open. 

“good girl, keep moving,” you purred into her ear as your hands dragged her back and forth. her brain short-circuited at the name you gave her: she squirmed on top of you, her hips stuttering as a familiar sensation started to build inside her. she mewled in response; the commanding, dominant yunjin who had left you flustered just minutes ago was now a moaning mess under your touch. “ah— god” she threw her head back as she felt your thigh twitch and stiffen beneath her, providing the perfect solidity against her clit. 

as she continued to hump, your hands left her waist and slowly worked their way up to her chest, not without lightly scratching her skin, causing a burning sensation to spread beneath the surface. you began massaging and caressing her tits over her bra, lazily rubbing circles with your thumbs across the fabric. just the light pressure was enough for her to feel pleasure as more lewd sounds left her mouth. so it came as no surprise that, when you exposed her nipples and pinched them with your fingers, she let out a guttural scream. “fu-fuck–please, keep— ahh— keep doing that,” she begged as you twisted and pulled her sensitive buds.

her insides started to burn, a tight knot in her low abdomen indicated that her orgasm was near. “are you close?” you asked as you noticed her movements become sloppier and her moans rising in pitch. “y-yes, I— please— please let me come.” her voice trembled as she pleaded for your permission. as much as you wanted to tease her, to push her just a little further, you couldn’t resist and granted her request. “go ahead baby,” the moment you were done speaking you felt her body still in your hands, her back arched and her head thrown back. her vision faded to black as she reached her climax, a wave of pleasure washing over her as she cried out a mixture of curse words and little “thank you”s.

she collapsed into your arms, her body was now a limp weight pressed against your chest. her head nestled against your neck, her eyes closed as she focused on regaining the stable rhythm of her breath. you gently stroked her hair as a comfortable silence enveloped the two of you, the only sounds being the soft crackle of the candles and her breathing. the warmth of her body pressed against yours was like a gentle caress, a comforting embrace that made you melt into your seat. “can we stay like this for a bit?” she asked softly, her voice hoarse from all the moaning, and her arms tightened around you as she clung to your torso. “of course,” you replied, leaning your head over hers and caressing her back, savoring the closeness. “whatever you want.”

a/n: oof, this one was really long to write, I'm so sorry for the wait, guys, hope you like it!

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P9

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: Is it too late now to say sorry... upside of this chapter, we get some of the Pogues in it we love our queen Sarah :) Downside of this chapter well... then end (actually maybe the whole thing) :/. Happy birthday to my girl y/n, Rafe on the other hand, well I have no comment, I don't wanna see the guy after this chapter I hate him so much he's so destructive. (this is so season 2 Rafe)

warnings: ANGST!!! alcohol, mentions of deceased brother, mentions of overdosing, smoking, drugs (weed, cocaine), drug abuse, strong language (bitch, slut junkie ect), making out, mommy issues :(, references to past trauma, rafe being an asshole, violence (a slap, shoving someone, grabbing someone, smashing glass).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed since that day at the hut, and the atmosphere between Y/N and Rafe remained heavy with unspoken words. The gap where their banter used to be was almost unbearable, the girl avoided him, not out of anger but because she simply didn’t know what to say. The words she wanted to speak felt trapped in her throat, tangled with emotions she couldn’t quite name. When they were with the group she wore her brightest smiles and laughed a little louder than usual, as though she could drown out the tension with forced cheer. Her efforts worked well enough to maintain the surface-level peace, but beneath her facade the strain weighed on her. Their friends weren’t blind. Kelce and Topper could see it in the way they avoided each other’s eyes; conversations between the two were clipped and strained, only happening when absolutely necessary. It was like watching two people perform a carefully rehearsed play, one with no emotion behind the lines.

Cooper had noticed.

He wasn’t as oblivious, watching Y/N navigate this awkward dance with Rafe made something twist in his chest, he felt pity for the girl, knowing how much she cared about the boy and how close they’d always been. Still, if he were being honest, part of him didn’t mind the shift. The distance between Y/N and Rafe had given him a chance to step in, to be the one she leaned on, even if only a little. He wasn’t proud of how much he enjoyed the- ‘unfortunate’ situation the girl was in but the small moments they shared made up for it, like when she laughed at his jokes or tilted her head closer to hear him speak. Those fleeting interactions sent a thrill through him that he couldn’t ignore. He knew he was toeing a line, but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering what might happen if things stayed the way they were.

One humid evening, the five of them were lounging by Kelce’s pool. The sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and pink. The backyard was the perfect hangout spot—spacious, with the cool water offering relief from the heat and a bar stocked with anything they could want. Yet, despite that, the tension between Y/N and Rafe was inescapable, the space by Y/n’s side which was often occupied by the boy was now replaced by Cooper, whose hand rested over the back of the seat. 

Anger bubbled in Rafe's chest, but it wasn’t the kind of fury he could direct outward—it twisted inward instead, sharp and self-inflicted. He was the one who’d told her he didn’t want her. The memory of that moment was seared into his mind, the expression on her face when he’d told her, told her the repulsive lie about them being friends, was always present in his mind; when he went to sleep, when he woke in the morning, it never left. He had no one to blame but himself.

“So Princess,” 

Topper began, breaking the quiet as he turned his attention to Y/N. The nickname rolled off his tongue with a teasing familiarity, drawing a faint smile from her. He’d been watching her and Rafe long enough to sense the shift, though he kept his observations to himself. Rafe was his best friend, and Y/N was practically family. Of course, he noticed when something was off.

“A special day is coming up…”

He added, his tone playful as he referred to her birthday, just a week away. Y/N met Topper’s gaze, her expression carefully neutral. Kelce and Cooper perked up at his words, their curiosity piqued.

“Oh, yeah,” Kelce chimed in, smirking. “I’d almost forgotten about that.”

“Isn’t it like a national holiday on the island or something..?”

Cooper added in mock seriousness his eyebrows furrowing as though in thought. Y/N rolled her eyes at their antics, hand coming out to shove the boy sitting next to her though her lips twitched into a faint smile. She wasn’t annoyed; their teasing was harmless, even endearing.

“You guys are ridiculous.” 

She muttered, leaning back into her chair. Topper chuckled, swirling his drink lazily in his hand. 

“So, have you decided what you’re doing?”

Y/N straightened slightly, placing her drink on the small stool beside her. “Well,” she began, “my parents aren’t going to be home for my birthday, going away to Georgia to see family friends or something.” A sly smile played on her lips as she watched their reactions.

“Which means…I have a free house.”

Kelce let out a low whistle, his grin widening. Cooper leaned forward, his smirk practically splitting his face.

“Free house?” Kelce said, pointing his drink at her. “You’re throwing a party, right?”

“Definitely,” Y/N said with a laugh, shaking her head at how predictable they were. “And I’m inviting everyone- Kook, Pogue, I don’t care.” she said, waving her hand dismissively. 

 “Gonna be the event of the summer.” Kelce said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

“Finally giving the people what they want,” Cooper joked, his grin widening. Y/N leaned slightly toward Cooper, a teasing sparkle in her eyes.

“Oh, did I say you were invited?” she quipped, one brow arching as a smirk tugged at her lips. Cooper feigned a look of hurt at her tease, putting a hand over his heart 

"What? You wouldn't invite me to your birthday? I thought we were good friends," he said, emphasising his words, glass lifting to his lips to sip at the drink. She had to suppress a smile at the boys words,

“I don't know I guess I could deal with you for one night”

Cooper smirked, bringing his glass down to rest on his thigh, leaning in closer to her ear as he spoke. 

“One night, huh? I think you’ll want more than that,” his voice low so only the girl could hear. She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked up to him, stomach fluttering slightly at his words. 

Stop that

She gave him a slow nod, tongue coming out to wet her lips before she spoke, “That's some pretty high stakes you're setting there Miller.” 

He shrugged his shoulders as he sitting back slightly, “I don’t mind a challenge” 

The conversation around the pool flowed in and out of different topics, with Kelce rambling on about something completely pointless—something about a new car he was eyeing. 

It doesn’t matter

Rafe’s mind was elsewhere, his focus nowhere near Kelce’s words, his eyes drifting to the side, finding Y/N and Cooper. They were talking, laughing. Y/N leaned in slightly, her smile bright, her posture relaxed as she engaged with Cooper, who was leaning just a bit closer than normal. His fingers curled into a fist around the edge of his drink, the ice rattling against the glass as his jaw tightened. He fought to maintain his composure, but a feeling gnawed at him, sharp and uncomfortable. It was jealousy, unmistakable and burning, bubbling beneath the cold surface of his expression. He watched as Cooper casually brushed his arm against Y/N’s, and the way she didn’t pull away, her eyes locked onto his, the same glint of teasing in her gaze that Rafe had always known so well. He was drawn out of his haze by the girl's voice, her eyes looking at him, dropping down to the glass in his grip, which he loosened. 

“Hm?” he questioned, looking at the girl. 

“You're coming as well right?” she questioned the boy's head tilting slightly as she spoke and at her question, his eyes flicked up to meet hers, 

"Yeah, I'll be there. Wouldn't miss your birthday."

He sent her a tight lipped smile which she reciprocated. 

Awkward 

Awkward 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days merged seamlessly together as the big day approached, the whole island was buzzing with excitement, and it seemed like no one could stop talking about the infamous ‘Kook Princess’s Birthday.’ Word had spread quickly, as it always did when it came to events like this- Y/N's parties were always the event of the year, and this one promised to be no different. Every corner of the island was abuzz with gossip- Kooks and Pogues alike, the party appearing to be a middle ground for the feud between them- and even if someone wasn’t invited, they knew someone who was and were sure to be brought along as a plus one.

 JJ lay back in the hammock, his hands lazily fiddling with a packet of rolling papers, pulling one out as he spoke

“So, we going or not?”

He called, his voice a mix of impatience and amusement, the hammock swaying gently beneath him. His fingers expertly rolled the paper, his focus briefly shifting to the task at hand. Pope, sitting on a log beside him, looked up from where he was lounging, taking a sip from his drink.

“I mean, Y/N seems pretty chill about it. I don’t see why not.” He paused, glancing around at the others. “But I thought it was invite-only, so—”

“She invited me,”

Sarah called out from where she’d plopped herself down into John B’s lap, her legs tangled with his. He let out a small 'oof,' surprised by the suddenness of her action, but wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her.

“She did?”

Kie and JJ spoke in unison, both turning their heads toward Sarah with wide eyes. Kie shot a glance at JJ, who was now half hanging out of the hammock, raising an eyebrow. He winked at her, clearly pleased with Sarah’s news.

“Yeah, Y/N’s really sweet,” Sarah replied with a shrug, her tone casual but sincere. “I don’t talk to her much, I guess, ‘cause she’s always with Topper and Rafe, but she’s cool.”

The names 'Topper' and 'Rafe' caused Pope to pause, his fingers scratching at his cheek as his brows furrowed in thought. “So... your brother is going to be there?” he asked, glancing over at Sarah.

JJ, who had just been about to take a hit from his joint, let out a low whistle.

"If Rafe is there we all know what's going down."

Kie looked over to the boy eyebrows raised in questioning, Pope put his drink down as he stared at the boy as he adjusted himself in the hammock, his hands moving around to mimic someone holding themselves as he dramatically moaned out, 

“Oh, yes, Rafe! Don��t stop—Oh, fuck, yes—oh Rafey!”

The others groaned collectively, rolling their eyes at JJ’s antics, with Pope giving an exasperated sigh.

“C’mon, man, don’t do Y/N like that,” John B said with a stern look, pulling his can away from his lips as Sarah took it from him, taking a sip herself.

“Well, I don’t even know if Rafe is going to be there,” Sarah said, raising her hands defensively as she looked at them.

“What?” Pope asked, sitting up slightly, his interest piqued.

“I don’t know,” Sarah continued. “I just think something’s off between them. He’s been super grumpy lately, and a couple days ago, he smashed a bunch of stuff in the kitchen. My dad was pissed,” she added, the others listening closely now.

“Wow,” Kie said, shaking her head. “And a couple of days ago, Y/N showed up at The Wreck with Cooper Miller.”

“The guy from New York?” John B asked, sitting up a little straighter now, his attention fully caught.

“Yeah,” Kie nodded, her voice dropping to a lower tone, “and they were in a booth together, all giggly and everything. Kinda... flirty too.”

JJ raised an eyebrow at that, flicking the lighter on and off as he passed the joint around. “Damn,” Pope muttered, eyes glancing over at the blonde next to him, who was now blowing smoke into the air, his face unreadable. JJ, completely unbothered, took another hit and then wandered over to the group in the circle, offering the joint to Sarah and John B.

“We gon’ get lit tonight. I know Kooks always bring the good stuff, huh?” JJ grinned as he rested a hand on both John B and Sarah’s shoulders, giving them a little shake for emphasis. Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head, clearly unimpressed.

“No, they won’t.”

“What?” John B asked, raising his brow as he sat up, adjusting Sarah in his lap.

“She said so,” Sarah said with a shrug, letting out a sigh. “Y/N said no drugs at her place. Well, maybe just weed, but she was pretty serious about it. I even saw her talking to the guy who sells stuff-”

“Kyle?” JJ spoke out hand coming up to push his hair out the way.

“Yeah Kyle, and she said she’d, like, fuck him up or something if he brought anything else.”

“Damn.” JJ raised his eyebrows, genuinely impressed. “Wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.”

Kie stood up, dusting off the back of her shorts, her mind clearly elsewhere. “Do you think it’s because of her brother?” she asked, her voice thoughtful.

“Yeah, probably.” John B shrugged, his eyes distant for a moment. “I don’t blame her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The backyard, lit by string lights that twinkle like stars above, had transformed into a vibrant scene, with the thumping bass from the speakers. Groups of people were scattered around, some clustered by the bar, whilst others were dancing, their bodies swaying to the rhythmic beats that spilled from the speakers set up, loud laughter sweeping into the silence. 

Y/N moved through the crowd with a natural grace, effortlessly weaving between groups of people who were talking, laughing, and enjoying themselves. Her smile never wavered as she greeted everyone who called out to her, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she offered a quick hug here, the sound of "Happy birthday!" followed her like a soft chorus as she passed, and each greeting was met with a playful smile and a ‘Thank you!’. As she neared the door, her fingers brushed the doorframe, and she pushed it open with a small exhale, letting the cool air inside. 

“Happy Birthday!” 

Sarah’s voice rang out, the other pogues standing behind her. “Thank you!” Y/N called out, over the music, her voice ringing with joy, slightly buzzed from the alcohol she’d consumed. She walked over, arms open wide as she embraced the girl tightly, stepping aside to let the others in.  John B gave her a playful nudge, he spoke with a smile, his tone teasing but sincere. 

“You sure know how to throw a party.” 

“I’d hope so. Not called the Kook Princess for nothing.” 

She responded to him with a wink. The group followed the girl into the kitchen, weaving through the crowd of people plaguing the house. The girl was speaking to them, Kie nodding as she caught the ‘upstairs is off limits’. Now crowded around the kitchen island pouring their own drinks JJ leaned in towards her, grinning as he rested his hand on her waist, 

“Is this the part where we all toast to your royal highness?” he teased, holding up his drink.

The girl let out a laugh as she shook her head raising her hand dismissively, 

“Whatever you wish for, my faithful servant.”

The others laughed at her response but the call of her name pulled Y/n away from the conversation. She took a couple steps over to where the girl holding her hand out, leading her away, turning back to the group she spoke out loudly so they could hear, 

“Have fun guys!”

She stumbled slightly as she made her way through Kooks and Pogues, an occasional cheer when she passed arising from people, others raised their drinks in a salute making her smile. Topper and Kelce appear in her vision, the two boys cheering as they spot the girl. 

“Here comes the Birthday Girl!” Kelce’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of a few nearby partygoers.  Topper raised his cup in the air. "Looking good, Princess!" he called, as she approached. 

“Give us a spin.” 

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the challenge. With a playful roll of her eyes, she planted one foot in front of the other and spun around slowly, her arms outstretched in an exaggerated twirl. The dark red dress hugged her figure, it was shorter than she’d usually go for, she couldn't deny that throughout the night she was pretty sure she’d flashed a few people.

Who cares, it's my birthday

"Better?" she teased, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.

Kelce leaned back with an impressed whistle, his eyes scanning her with feigned admiration. "Killlllling it sexy" he teased, clearly enjoying the show. She shook her head leaning over the bar to grab her own drink, letting the cool liquid run down her throat with a burn. 

"Having fun?" Topper asked, genuine curiosity.

"Are you kidding? This is my night," she tilted her head slightly and shot him a quick smile. However she couldn't stop her eyes from flickering around them searching for something… or rather someone. Topper seemed to notice her eyes flickering around, and he raised an eyebrow. 

"You looking for someone?"

Her eyes darted back to the boy in front of her as he spoke, shaking her head raising the glass to her lips again and taking a quick sip before speaking, 

Rafe...

“Uh- have you seen Cooper?” 

She asked, her words slightly offhand, though there was a flicker of something in her voice. Her eyes swept the crowd once more, her thoughts momentarily drifting. Kelce smirked, clearly sensing the subtle shift in her behavior.

"Cooper, huh?" he teased, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. "You know, for someone who's 'just having fun,' you sure seem eager to find him." Y/N bit back a smile, her cheeks flushing slightly, though she quickly regained her composure.

"I’m not eager." 

She said, the words coming out more defensively than intended. She rolled her eyes and shoved the boy causing him to stumble slightly, Topper laughing at them, “He went to meet one of the guys by the front doors- something like that.”

“M’kay… What about Rafe?” 

Topper tilted his head, crossing his arms curiously. “Rafe?” 

“Yeah. Just wondering if he’s here.”

She replied quickly, shrugging as she let out a quiet laugh, though it didn’t sound as carefree as she intended. Topper raised an eyebrow at her curiosity, aware that the two were still on thin ice,

 “I haven’t seen him since earlier. You know how he gets, he’s... not in the best of moods."

Y/N swallowed, her thoughts briefly clouding with the image of Rafe brooding in some corner, she pushed it away, forcing an unbothered tone as she took another sip of her drink.

"I’m sure he’s fine." 

Topper studied her for a moment, his smirk fading just slightly as he caught the way her expression shifted- the subtle drop in her shoulders, the brief tightness in her jaw. He could tell there was more to her question than she was letting on, and it wasn’t just curiosity about Rafe's whereabouts. But  he didn’t press, he knew when to back off, he cleared his throat as he saw the girl's eyes dart around the back-yard,

"Whatever’s going on between you two," he said, a little more serious now, "you know it’s not worth letting it ruin a good night. The party’s for you, not him."

Y/N glanced at him, her lips quirking in an attempt at a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I know," she muttered, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. She shifted uncomfortably, the heat of the moment making her uneasy as she realized she hadn’t been able to escape her thoughts of Rafe- even in the middle of her birthday celebration. 

She had spent weeks convincing herself that she didn’t care if Rafe showed up, that it didn’t matter what he did anymore. But standing there in the midst of the party, surrounded by familiar faces and laughter, she couldn’t deny the sting of his absence. Her fingers tightened slightly around the glass in her hand as her gaze swept over the crowd for what felt like the hundredth time. He wasn’t here. Not yet, anyway, or maybe he was but he was avoiding her. She told herself it didn’t matter, tried to focus on the people who were here for her, but her mind kept circling back to him. He was her best friend. At least, he had been. That thought made her chest tighten. 

Had been 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The music pulsed through the air, its rhythmic bassline vibrating the floor beneath her feet. The lively chatter and bursts of laughter from the crowd mingled with the upbeat energy of the party. Every corner of the house was buzzing with movement- someone laughing loudly, a group raising their glasses in a spirited toast, or pairs of people drunkenly making out in dimly lit corners. The lively chaos was electric, wrapping around Y/N as she moved through the thrumming atmosphere. The girl found herself by the makeshift bar, a group of familiar and not-so-familiar faces gathering around her. Someone had shouted, "Shots for the birthday girl!" and it spiraled from there. A tray of tiny glasses filled to the brim with amber liquid appeared, each one gleaming under the dim lights overhead.

“Birthday shot!”

Someone yelled, and the crowd around her joined in, chanting the words in a playful, sing-song tone.

Y/N held her shot glass high, a smile tugging at her lips as she glanced around at the people circling her.

“To being young, rich and sexy!” 

The group erupted into laughter and clinked their glasses against hers before raising them to their lips. Y/n tipped her head back, the liquid burning a fiery trail down her throat, she slammed the empty glass on the counter with a wince, her friends erupting into cheers. Another round was quickly poured, someone shouting, “One more for the birthday girl!” Y/N laughed, shaking her head, but there was no real fight in her as another shot glass was pressed into her hand. 

“Alright, fine, but this is the last one,” she said, raising the glass high with a wide smile, cheeks flushed.

“Sure it is!” someone teased, drawing more laughter from the group. She tilted her head back once more and took the shot, slamming the glass down. The crowd around her whooped in approval, some pounding the counter, the group around her remained lively, their laughter and chatter filling the kitchen as they lingered by the counter, still talking to Y/N about random topics that arose. She nodded along, her smile unwavering as she responded to their playful jabs and stories, but her attention started to waver. Her gaze drifted subtly past the circle of friends, skimming over the crowd that filled the house, that's where she spotted him.

Rafe

He was not far from the kitchen entrance, leaning against the wall with that casual ease that drew her eye immediately. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his head was tilted slightly as he talked to someone.

Sofia?

Y/N’s stomach dipped slightly. The girl standing with Rafe was undeniably beautiful, her short brown hair framing her face in a way that caught her beauty effortlessly. The girl laughed at something Rafe said, her hand brushing his arm briefly, to which he returned a smile to her his chest raising in a soft laugh. The sight sent a jolt through Y/N that she couldn’t quite place- or maybe she could, but didn’t want to. Her smile faltered for a split second before she forced it back into place, the party around her seeming to blur for a moment as her focus zeroed in on the two of them. She couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol coursing through her veins or the way Sofia’s hand casually brushed Rafe’s arm, but a wave of nausea crept up her throat. Her grip on the edge of the counter tightened, fingers curling against the smooth surface as though grounding herself. The laughter and chatter around her blurred into a dull hum, the vibrant lights of the kitchen suddenly feeling too bright, too close. The warmth of the room made her feel like the air was pressing down on her. She blinked slowly, trying to steady herself, but her head was already spinning, the effects of the shots catching up with her faster than she expected. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to exhale, but her stomach still churned uncomfortably. The nausea wasn’t just from the alcohol, she knew that. It was the sight of him-  of Rafe- leaning in close to someone else. Someone who wasn’t her.

Get a grip

The sudden suffocating feeling drove her to action. Her body moved before her mind could fully catch up, her feet carrying her out of the kitchen and through the crowd of partygoers. She mumbled quick apologies when she bumped into someone, eyes darting toward the glass doors that led to the garden. The cool night air hit her immediately, sharp and refreshing against her heated skin. She inhaled deeply, her hands pressing against the railing of the patio as she stared up at the stars, trying to will away the lump in her throat and the bitter taste of jealousy lingering in her mouth. Before she could fully settle into the moment of solitude, someone called her name.

She turned around, and there he was.

Rafe stood just a few feet away, his hands tucked into his pockets, his expression unreadable. The way the light from the house cast a glow over his face made him look almost softer—almost.

“Happy birthday.”

He said, his voice low but clear, carrying easily through the quiet of the night. She stared at him for a moment, her face betraying no emotion.

“Thanks,” she replied flatly, turning back toward the garden.

“Wait-”

He said, and before she could take another step, his hand reached out, gently brushing against hers before catching it lightly.

“Can we talk, please?”

She turned back to him slowly, her gaze icy as she stared up at him.

“Go talk to Sofia.”

What?

She shot back, her voice sharper than she intended. Rafe blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the venom in her words. He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again, his jaw tightening slightly.

Why the fuck did you say that?!

“Listen,” he started, his voice softer now, more deliberate. “I don’t know what you—”

“Rafe,” she cut him off, her tone clipped as she tugged her hand out of his.

“I don’t care who you fuck.”

She inhaled deeply, her gaze briefly flickering to the door behind him before settling back on his face.

“I just need some air.”

And with that, she turned away, stepping off the patio and disappearing into the shadows of the garden. Rafe stayed rooted in place, his hand falling limply to his side where hers had been just seconds ago. He watched her retreating figure, her shoulders tense, her head held high.

Fuck

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He hadn’t meant for things to be like this—not tonight, not on her birthday. He didn’t even know how to fix it, or if she’d even let him try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N was pulled out of her spiraling thoughts by the warm, steady weight of a pair of hands wrapping gently around her waist. Her body stiffened for a moment, but then she turned her head slightly to see Cooper smiling down at her, his face warmed under the kitchen lights.

“How’s the birthday girl enjoying herself?” 

He asked, his voice warm and teasing, a playful lilt in his tone. Y/N forced a small smile, her grip on the counter loosening slightly. “I’m… good,” she said, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her. 

“Actually, I was just thinking- let’s take another shot.”

Cooper’s brows lifted, and he gave a soft chuckle, his hands sliding away as he stepped to her side.

 “Another one, huh? You sure about that? Might be a good time to slow down...”

She shook her head, brushing off his concern. “Nope.” she said, her voice firmer now, as though willing herself to regain control of the moment. He hesitated, eyeing her with a mix of amusement and slight concern. “Alright, alright,” he said with a grin, grabbing two shot glasses and the nearest bottle.

“Your call.” 

Y/N held out her glass, linking her arm through his with a playful glint in her eyes.

“Let’s take one together,”

She insisted, her smile a little brighter now. Cooper raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips as he grabbed another shot glass and the nearest bottle, pouring the shots for them, the liquid slightly spilling over the top. 

“To the birthday girl who doesn’t know when to quit,” 

Cooper teased back, his green eyes dancing over her as they clinked their glasses together awkwardly with their arms still entwined. Together, they tipped their heads back, the liquid burning down their throats as laughter bubbled up between them. Y/N set her glass down quickly, wiping her lips, but her eyes flickered to Cooper as he placed his own glass on the counter. Cooper ruffled his tousled hair back into place, as his gaze found hers, his voice softened as he noticed the girl's slightly blissed out expression asked, 

“You good, Princess?”

Y/N nodded, the hint of a smile still curling at her lips, she bit her bottom lip gently, an almost unreadable look crossing her face for a split second. Without a word, she reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers together, pulling him toward the thrumming crowd where the music seemed to pulse. The bright lights above illuminated the sea of moving bodies, but Y/N was fixated on Cooper, her touch on his hand firm but playful. The music was loud, a steady beat that made her pulse quicken as she felt the warmth of the boy’s body close to hers. She could already feel the weight of the alcohol in her system, making her movements looser, her body swaying slightly. He allowed her to draw him in, his hands resting lightly on her waist as she guided him into the crowd of sweaty bodies moving against each other, his eyes never leaving hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck with an ease and he couldn’t help but tease,

“I thought you didn’t know how to dance,” 

He murmured, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Y/N lifted an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smile. She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against his ear as she replied, 

“I guess you’ll have to teach me, then.”

Cooper chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he adjusted his grip around her waist, pulling her even closer as they moved together. She grinded up against the boy as the base thumped heavily in her ears. Cooper leaned in closer to her, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he spoke, his hands trailing down her body to her hips, pulling her closer.

"You're a great dancer, princess." 

Cooper paused for a moment, his expression softening slightly, his green eyes locking with hers in a way that made her pulse quicken even more. For a brief second, the music and the noise around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them standing in the dim light, the boy’s mind racing as he drank in the sight of her, little red dress clinging to her body a slight sheen covering her chest, causing her to shimmer under the lights.

Cooper was caught off guard by how close they were, how the girl's hands ran up and down his chest, lingered on his neck, playfully grazed over his arms, the heat between them had shifted from playful flirtation to something deeper, more charged. He noticed the way her breath hitched slightly as their bodies brushed, the way she leaned into him just that little bit more. His hand moved almost instinctively, sliding from her waist up to her back, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers, the slight curve of her spine making him pause again,

"God, you're so…" 

Cooper started, his voice a little rougher than usual as he tried to collect himself, but the words came out lower, heavier than he had meant. He was fully aware of the shift, the tension hanging thick between them. He swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. Y/N didn’t break eye contact, instead, her fingers trailed lightly over his chest, sneaking under the top of his open shirt, causing him to suck in a breath as the coolness of her touch. She tilted her head slightly, that playful haze still present in her eyes.

"So…?" 

She murmured, her voice dipping low, sending a shiver down his spine. Her lips hovered near his ear, her breath warm against his skin as she continued,

“You gonna take me back to my room now or what?"

She asked, her voice light, yet daring, her words hanging in the air the implication clear. She tilted her head, eyes never leaving his. The challenge in her voice had him leaning even closer to her, his grip on her tightening. 

"Is that what you want, hmm?" 

He asked, his breath warm against her skin, Y/N's eyes flickered over his face taking in his slightly flushed cheeks, a smirk pulling at her lips as she looked up at him, her fingers now lightly tracing his jaw.

"Maybe," 

She whispered back, but her body already told everything without needing to say a word. Cooper’s lips parted for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully,

"You’re not making this easy-" 

“-I thought you liked a challenge?”

A grin broke out on his face as he shook his head slightly at the girl, his grip on her waist tightening ever so slightly, pulling her even closer. 

“I do.”

Y/N's breath hitched in response, her fingers gripping at his shirt, the material scrunching under her touch as she pulled him closer to her, the boy’s lips now merely inches away from her.

"Then stop talking and show me," 

She teased, her voice breathless but full of desire, her lips just barely brushing against his as she leaned in. Cooper didn’t need any more encouragement. He moved forward, closing the gap between them, his hand at the back of her neck pulling her in for a kiss that was rough… hungry. Y/N’s arms wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The boy’s hands roamed, slipping down her back, and the shift of their bodies made her pulse spike again, her breath quickening in rhythm with his. Their lips moved against each other messily, the pressure building, it was clear neither of them wanted to stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The party felt suffocating now, the music too loud, the air too warm, but Rafe didn’t move from his spot against the wall. His bottle of beer hung limply from his hand, he leaned against the wall, one shoulder pressed into the cool surface, as his sharp eyes scanned the crowd. He wasn’t really looking for anyone- or so he told himself.

Then he saw her.

Y/N.

Rafe’s grip on the bottle trembled as he watched her arms loop around Cooper’s neck, pulling him closer. His jaw clenched as he watched her lean into him, her face close to Cooper’s, her lips curling into a smile that made Rafe’s chest tighten. His stomach churned as Cooper leaned closer, his hand brushing Y/N’s waist before pulling her in, and then they kis-

It stung at first.

Like a punch to the gut.

But that initial wave of hurt was quickly swallowed by something else, something darker. Anger. His teeth ground together as his gaze darkened, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. He knew it wasn’t his place to feel this way—he’d pulled back, made it clear weeks ago that whatever tension crackled between them wasn’t something he’d act on. But watching her with Cooper? Seeing the way her lips moved against his, her fingers tangling in his hair, the soft arch of her back as she pressed closer?

It made his blood boil.

Because no matter how much he tried to convince himself he didn’t care, that he had no right to feel this way, the sight of her with someone else cut deeper than he’d expected.

And anger was easier to hold onto than hurt.

What the fuck is she doing?

Rafe stormed into the kitchen, his mind still racing with the anger that consumed him. He had to do something—anything—to numb the burn in his chest, the frustration he couldn't shake. Sarah, Kiara and John B were standing near the counter, focused on making their drinks, their conversation faltering when they noticed Rafe's entrance. He didn’t even spare them a glance. His eyes were locked on the bottle of vodka sitting in front of Sarah, and before she could protest, he grabbed it out of her hand.

“Hey, man, she was using that.”

John B said, his voice sounding a little more forceful than he intended. He stepped forward, trying to stop Rafe from taking the bottle. But Rafe didn’t care. He twisted the cap off and tipped the bottle back, taking a large swing without hesitation. The burn of the alcohol made his throat tighten, but it didn’t feel like enough.

It wasn't strong enough.

“Rafe, seriously, stop,” Sarah said as she tried to grab the bottle from his hand. Kiara pulled the girl away before she got hurt speaking out to the boy,

“You’re acting like a psycho.”

Rafe didn’t respond, his jaw clenched as he took another long swing. John B watched, glancing between Sarah and Rafe. “Maybe we should get y/n?” He suggested quietly to Sarah, but before either of them could do anything else, Rafe let out a loud scoff at the boys words.

John B's gaze shifting toward Sarah with an unspoken questioning but Sarah wasn't looking back at him, having noticed something small in Rafe’s pocket. A dime bag, barely visible but enough to make her blood run cold, the plastic sticking out of his pocket slightly. Her gaze dropped, her heart pounding as she saw the faint remnants of white powder inside. Y/N had made it clear there were to be no drugs at the party, and Sarah had believed Rafe would respect that. She bit her lip trying to rationalise it,  Rafe would never do that to Y/n she's his best friend right?

She was pulled out of her gaze by the sound of the boy slamming the now empty bottle down into the sink, the glass shattering with a loud crack that echoed through the kitchen. He didn’t look back at Sarah or John B, just kept walking, the anger inside of him driving every step. Sarah hesitated for a moment before taking a few steps after him, her fingers reaching out to grab his wrist.

“Are you okay?”

She asked, concern laced in her voice but Rafe didn’t respond. Without so much as a glance in her direction, he roughly shrugged her off as he spat out his voice slightly slurred from the alcohol,

“Just fuck off.”

Need something stronger

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the seconds ticked by, Cooper pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against hers, their chests rising and falling together, the girl in front of him letting out a shaky breath,

"You sure you want to keep going?" 

Without a word, she took his hand in hers, her grip warm and firm as she started to lead him toward the stairs of the house. He mumbled out an occasional ‘sorry’ or ‘ s’cuse me’ as he helped her get through the people in their way. Y/n wobbled slightly, her body unsteady from the alcohol, but her determination never wavered. There was a faint scent of bacardi on her breath mixed with her perfume, it drew the boy closer, his hand slipping around her waist to steady her as they moved.

"Careful" 

Cooper murmured, his voice gentle, but there was still that teasing lilt to it. Y/N shot him a glance over her shoulder, the playful, tipsy look in her eyes still there. 

"I’m fine" 

She giggled, though the slight stumble of her step told a different story. She squeezed his hand, pulling him forward with a grin that sent a pulse of heat through him. As they made their way up the stairs, her heart was racing, eager to get to her room with him, but her momentum was abruptly halted when someone bumped into her. She stumbled slightly but quickly caught herself, Cooper’s hands shooting out to steady her. 

"Y/N! Hey!" 

Sarah greeted, her tipsy smile spreading. She looked up at Y/N, noticing her slightly frazzled appearance- the smudge of lip gloss and the way Y/N’s hand was still intertwined with Cooper’s, an unreadable expression flickered across her face. She glanced down at their joined hands, taking in the situation with a knowing look before her eyes flicked up to meet Y/N's. Just behind her, John B appeared, his arms casually draped over her shoulders. His gaze shifted between the pair as he spoke up, his voice a little louder from the party’s noise. 

"Hey, what's up, guys?" 

His tone was friendly, though there was a slight hint of curiosity in his eyes as he noticed the scene. His focus landed briefly on their hands, eyebrows raising as he processed the sight, though he didn’t say anything outright. Y/N, trying to act casual, smiled and greeted them both. 

Seriously?

"Hey, Sarah, John B! Everyone’s here... how great! Everything good?" 

She asked, trying to keep her tone light as her eyes flickered nervously toward the stairs.

Sarah, clearly tipsy from the drinks, gave a small wave. "Yeah, Everything’s great! This party’s crazy, right?" she said, her voice bubbly. But then, her expression shifted slightly, and she asked, "Actually... have you seen Rafe? I’ve been looking for him, but... no luck."

Y/N felt her stomach tighten at the mention of Rafe. 

Not the best time Sarah

She quickly glanced back at Cooper before replying shortly, "no I haven't seen him", trying not to sound too eager to move on from the conversation. 

Her eyes flickered back to the stairs behind her, feeling an anxious pull to escape up them with Cooper. John B, still standing casually next to Sarah, glanced over at Y/N and Cooper, his eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to catch on. 

"Well we’ll let you guys be,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips. He seemed to sense what was happening, though he didn’t press it, instead giving a slight nod to Cooper.

“You two... having fun?”

"Yeah, we're just... catching up," Cooper said casually, a nod in the boy's direction, clearly wanting to move things along.

"Right," John B said, his grin widening, clearly amused, but not wanting to make things awkward. “Sarah, let's find Rafe, yeah?" Sarah didn’t seem quite as enthusiastic as she had before, she hesitated, her gaze lingering on Y/N and Cooper, 

“Yeah..” 

John B gently nudged Sarah away, guiding her down the hallway. As they walked off, Sarah threw one last, uncertain glance over her shoulder at Y/N and Cooper who had started making their way up the stairs. 

Y/N let out a small breath, her shoulders dropping in relief, the noise of the party growing more distant behind them. Cooper leaned in slightly, his voice low and playful.

“What was that about?” 

His eyes flickered between her face and the path ahead. Y/N let out a shrug, shaking her head slightly as she climbed the stairs. 

“I don’t know, c’mon.” 

She gestured toward the top of the stairs with a small smile, her fingers tightening around his hand as they both made their way. She wasn’t sure what Sarah’s issue was, but at this moment she couldn’t bring herself to care.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What's wrong Sare-bear?”

JJ called out, his lazy smirk growing as he lounged on the grass. He tossed his red plastic cup into the bush next to them without a care, watching Sarah approach with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her expression stormy. John B walked a step behind her, his hands tucked into his pockets, his eyes darting curiously between her and the group. Sarah reached them and stopped abruptly, her words tumbling out. 

“We saw Cooper and Y/N together.”

Kiara tilted her head, exchanging a quick glance with Pope, who was lounging on the sun lounger, his drink balanced precariously on his knee. “...And?” Kiara asked, lifting a brow. Pope squinted at Sarah,

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” 

His voice was calm but edged with curiosity as he straightened up a little, Sarah huffed, her fingers fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist as she frowned. 

“I don’t know, it’s just... weird.”

JJ burst out laughing, his hands hitting against his thighs in a drum roll, “Ohhhh, I get what’s going on!” He pointed a finger at her, his grin wide. John B smiled, leaning against the side of the lounger the blond boy was planted on and crossing his arms.

“Gotta say, I think JJ’s onto something here.” 

His voice was teasing, though there was a knowing glint in his eyes as he watched Sarah’s expression twist further into frustration.

“What? Why? What’s going on?” 

Pope asked, his eyes darting between them, still not catching on. JJ sat up slightly, his grin spreading further as he wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Our Kook Princess is getting some tonight,” 

He said, his voice coming out in a sing-song tune. Kiara rolled her eyes dramatically before leaning over and shoving JJ hard enough to send him rolling onto his back. “Hey!” JJ exclaimed, sprawling on the grass as he rubbed his shoulder with mock offence. John B chuckled, running a hand through his hair. 

“I mean, he’s not wrong. They did look pretty—”

“Flushed?” 

Kiara interjected, her lips curving into a small grin. Sarah’s frown deepened as she uncrossed her arms, her hands now planted firmly on her hips. 

“How do you know?”

Kiara shrugged, brushing some stray strands of hair out of her face.

 “Saw them in the kitchen earlier. They seemed pretty cozy... if you know what I mean.” 

Pope’s eyebrows shot up as realisation dawned. “Ohhhh, damn.” He said, drawing out the sound as he leaned back on the sun-lounger. Sarah turned sharply to Kiara, her frustration bubbling over. 

“Kie! Why didn’t you tell me?”

John B reached out, his hand settling gently on Sarah’s arm as he spoke softly. “Why are you so worked up over this, baby?”

Sarah paused, her gaze darting to the group. Kiara was watching her curiously, Pope looked contemplative, and JJ was sprawled on the ground, smirking up at her with an infuriatingly smug expression. She threw her hands up in exasperation. “This is wrong,” she muttered, shaking her head. “C’mon, I need to find Rafe.” She turned to walk off, but John B caught her hand, tugging her gently back toward the group.

“Sarah,” he said with a sigh, his tone soft but firm. Kiara leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she met the blonde girl's gaze. 

“Sarah, I know you think the two of them like—”

“They do! Why aren’t you guys listening?” 

Sarah interrupted, her voice louder now, laced with frustration. JJ, propping himself up on his elbows, pointed a lazy finger toward her. 

“Well, obviously Rafe’s fucked up if Y/N’s canoodling with some other guy.” 

He quipped, his grin never faltering. Kiara shot him a sharp look, shaking her head. “Seriously, JJ? What are you, ten?”

Sarah let out a frustrated groan, her head dropping against John B’s chest. Her voice was muffled as she sighed, 

“I don’t know...”

Pope rubbed the back of his neck, his voice thoughtful. “Well, where is Rafe anyway? I haven’t seen him since... was it the kitchen you said? He seemed pretty worked up.” 

Kiara frowned slightly, leaning back. “Yeah, I don’t remember seeing him either. Maybe he left?”John B looked over at her, raising an eyebrow, “You think he’d leave his best friend’s birthday early?” JJ, still lounging on the grass, chimed in with a snort, 

“Well, if he found out she was fucking some other gu—”

“JJ!” 

Pope and Kiara scolded in unison, their glares sharp as JJ held up his hands in mock innocence.

“Just saying,” the boy muttered, flopping back onto the ground with a dramatic sigh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N giggled as she stumbled slightly, her hand still clasped tightly in Cooper’s as they shuffled down the dimly lit hallway. His laugh was warm, mixing with hers as he pushed her gently against the wall, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was eager and unrestrained. Her hands slid up his chest before she playfully pushed him back, her breathless voice cutting through the darkness.

“C’mon, it’s further up,” 

She murmured, her lips curving into a teasing smile. Cooper groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. 

“More stairs?”

She laughed, shaking her head at him, tugging him along with a playful tug on his shirt.

“Just one more flight, I promise.”

They started to ascend again, but Cooper suddenly stopped, halting their progress. 

“Can I go to the bathroom real quick?”

Y/N groaned in protest, her hands dropping to his belt loops, using them to tug him closer. Her mischievous grin widened as she pulled him flush against her.

“Seriously?”

“I know, I know!” he chuckled, his hands raised in surrender. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

Rolling her eyes, she relented with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Go, go!”

As he turned to walk down the darkened hall, he glanced back at her, sending her a quick kiss through the air. She chuckled, shaking her head at his antics. The hallway was quiet, the faint hum of music from downstairs muffled by the distance, and only the soft sound of their steps echoed. Then suddenly, a loud “oof!” broke the silence, followed by the sharp clatter of something hitting the floor. Y/N burst out laughing as she saw Cooper stumbling over a small table that was tucked into the corner of the hall. His hands shot out to steady himself, and he straightens up sheepishly, rubbing his shin.

“I’m okay!” 

He declared with an exaggerated thumbs-up, his cheeks flushed as he grinned at her. 

What a nerd 

Y/N shook her head, a soft giggle escaping her lips, still smiling as she watched him disappear into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. She sighed softly, the sound barely audible in the quiet hallway. Pushing herself off the wall, she padded over to the small wooden table Cooper had collided with, the picture frame lay askew on the floor, the glass miraculously intact despite the tumble. Bending down, she picked it up, brushing off an invisible speck of dust as she straightened, her fingers grazed the edge of the frame as she held it. The photograph inside caught her attention, halting her movements. It was one she hadn’t seen in a while- her and her brother sitting close together on their family yacht, the sun casting a warm golden glow over their smiling faces. She was younger, her hair tousled by the wind, her brother’s arm casually draped around her shoulders. Her lips curved into a small smile as the memory surfaced.

Y/N went to place the frame back down on the table, but a sudden ray of light caught her eye, reflected off the glass. She paused, her fingers tightening slightly around the frame. The light was faint, but it was there, casting a strange glow into the dim hallway.

That’s weird.

She blinked, upstairs was supposed to be off-limits, and no one else had been here. Why would there be any lights on? Her heart beat a little faster, a sense of unease creeping in, the faint light... where was it coming from?

Her breath caught in her throat.

The light was spilling from a door just slightly ajar, casting a soft glow in the hallway. She stood perfectly still, her grip on the photo frame tightening further as her mind raced. No one had been in that room for years- not her, not her parents. It had been off-limits to everyone.

No one had dared to open the door since...

Her heart seemed to stop for a beat, and she swallowed hard, staring at the crack in the door.

Why would the light be on?

Her finger trembled slightly as she placed the picture frame onto the table. She didn’t dare take her eyes off the door. She exhaled slowly, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Then, almost against her will, she took a cautious step forward.

Another step.

Her body felt like it was moving on its own, but her mind screamed for her to turn back, to leave the hallway and not look. The nausea was rising, thick and heavy, but her feet seemed to carry her forward anyway. She hesitated, stopping a few steps away from it, her chest tight as she looked at the door. It felt like it was staring back at her. Her fingers felt cold as they hovered over the door handle, a mocking reminder of the past. With a trembling hand, she reached for it. The door creaked open slightly, the light from the room spilled out into the hallway.

The girl froze

Her gaze fell on the figure hunched over her brother’s desk, his back to her, he was focused on something, his movements quick and deliberate. The sight of him brought a sudden wave of nausea rushing to her stomach, but it wasn’t until he straightened up that she realized what he was doing.

Her breath hitched. 

A line of white powder lay in front of him on her brother’s desk. 

Y/N’s legs felt like they might give way beneath her, but she stood frozen, unable to look away as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand, then turned around. When their eyes met, the air in the room shifted.  

Rafe’s body stiffened. 

No. No no no no-

His eyes widened slightly, his hand jerking up to his face instinctively, wiping at his nose again; he didn’t speak right away, just stood there.

Y/N felt a tremor run through her, her hands shaking at her sides as her throat closed up. She felt trapped- frozen in the doorway, in shock, and sick to her stomach at the sight of him here. 

In this room 

In this space that was sacred to her. 

“Y/n-”

"-What are you doing?"

Her voice came out ragged, barely a whisper as her eyes darted between his and the desk he stood by, the question hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Rafe's expression faltered, and he took a step toward her, his hands outstretched, frantic. 

“It’s not what it looks like, Y/N. Listen, I—”

She couldn't breathe. 

Before he could get any closer, she took a shaky step back, her legs unsteady as she stumbled back, barely catching herself. 

“No-” 

She breathed, shaking her head slowly, the tears threatening to spill over. She couldn’t stop them- couldn’t stop the waves of emotion that slammed into her all at once. 

"No, Rafe… what the- what the fuck are you doing in here?”

He kept walking towards her, his expression torn- guilt, panic and confusion. 

"Y/N, I didn’t mean to—"

But she didn’t want to hear it. 

She didn’t want his words, his excuses, his explanations.

Her stomach churned as she looked at him, feeling like she might collapse under the weight of everything crashing around her. The room, the desk, the powder… her brother’s room. The memories came rushing back, too fast, too much to bear. 

How Rafe of all people could be in here... 

She didn’t know how to process it.

Rafe’s eyes widen as he takes a cautious step forward, his hands reaching out, gripping her arms tightly in a manner that seems desperate. His eyes are frantic, the pupils blown wide from the drugs still coursing through his system.

"Y/N, please- just…  just, just hear me out-" 

How could you do this to me?

He starts, his voice shaky, his words tumbling over one another, a mix of urgency and desperation. But her gaze doesn’t meet his. Instead, her eyes fall to the table, to the white powder still resting there. Her stomach churns violently, the sight of it sending a wave of nausea crashing through her. Without thinking, she pushes Rafe away from her.

Hard. 

He stumbles back, his eyes are wide, still frantic, his lips parting to speak again, but he’s cut off by the girl’s shaky, breathless voice. She whispers, her eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and rage. Her whole body trembles. She can’t even look at him anymore.

"No. No, no, no-" 

Y/N shook her head at Rafe, her movements sharp, as she turned on her heel, walking briskly toward the door. Her thoughts were a mess of confusion and disgust. She couldn’t stay in that room with him, not after what she’d seen, not after what he was doing there.

“Y/N, no. Don’t—” 

The boy’s breathy voice broke through the tension, but she didn’t turn back. 

She couldn’t.

Her pulse was pounding as she hurried down the stairs, ignoring the curious stares of the people in the living room. Heads turned, whispers rippling through the crowd, but she kept walking, the weight of it all pressing down on her chest. She pushed through people, moving as fast as she could toward the front door, she couldn’t stand being in the house a second longer and couldn't bear the thought of being around anyone after what she'd just witnessed. She slammed the door with force, the sound of it reverberating in her ears, drawing a few gasps from people standing around. Rafe’s voice continued to echo after her, calling her name, but it felt distant now. Y/N stepped out into the cool night air, her feet carrying her away from the house and toward the front yard. She lifted her hands to her face, desperately trying to push her hair from her eyes, but it didn’t help- she still felt sick. Sick to her stomach. 

Sick because of Rafe.

Sick because of what she’d seen.

But before she could take another step, she felt a sharp tug on her wrist. She was yanked roughly around to face him, and her breath hitched as Rafe stood there, his eyes wide and angry. His grip on her wrist was tight,

“What the fuck are you doing?!” 

Rafe’s voice was harsh as he pulled her toward him. His eyes burned with something she couldn’t quite place, frustration, anger... maybe guilt. 

“Stop walking away from me when I’m talking to you!”

Y/N’s heart was pounding, her chest tight as she stood there, looking up at him. The boy she had known her whole life was standing in front of her, but it felt like he was a stranger. The sickening feeling she had from seeing him in that room was still too raw, festering, and she couldn’t escape it. Without warning, she yanked her hand out of his grasp, spinning on her heel to face him. Her eyes burned with fury as she pointed at him, speaking loudly, her voice shaking with anger.

“Don’t you dare yell at me.” 

She snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. Rafe seemed taken aback by the force of her words, his eyes flickering with surprise she was breathing heavily, her hands balled into fists at her sides, but the anger wasn’t enough to hide the hurt, the betrayal that still churned in her gut. Rafe’s eyes flickered with frustration, and he scoffed at her, running a hand through his hair agitatedly, his fingers pointing towards her repeatedly. 

“What, you- you- you think you’re some fucking saint? You’re acting all high and mighty like you’ve never done anything wrong.”

The girl let out a laugh of disbelief, all sadness now replaced with anger, bubbling uncomfortably under her skin. She stepped closer, her fingers twitching, itching to shove the boy away from her.

“You don’t get to make this about me-” 

Rafe’s jaw clenched, but there was no softening in his expression, only a growing frustration that was reflected in the way his hand fisted by his side. 

“-I don’t need you lecturing me, okay?” 

He snapped, his temper flaring. His threw his hands up in irritation as he spoke,

“Look at you, little Miss fucking Perfect.” His voice was mocking now, his every word laced with bitterness. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy acting like such a stuck up bitch all the time you’d see that it’s never that dee-.”

The sharp sting of his insult cut through her, the girl’s face hardening as she glared at him.

“Stuck up bitch?”

She repeated, her voice cold and cutting, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

“You really think that’s what this is about, Rafe? That I’m some bitch for calling you out for your shit?” 

As Y/N’s voice rose, sharp and cutting through the night, a few of the partygoers who had been milling around the house started to drift towards the sound. They stood, spread out in a loose cluster by the front steps, all of them silently observing. A few exchanged glances, their faces a mixture of curiosity and surprise, the kind of unease that only comes when you realize you’re watching something you shouldn’t be. They didn’t interrupt; they didn’t even move much. There was a sort of tense stillness as they all absorbed the unfamiliar sight- it was like they were seeing a side of the two that had never been shown before. Among the crowd, Sarah’s anxious energy couldn’t keep still. She pushed through the small group, a hand on John B’s arm as she urgently muttered, 

“Someone needs to do something.”

John B glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow, clearly trying to figure out what to say, but before he could say anything, JJ chimed in from behind him, the lack of his usual attitude making the situation feel even more tense. 

“I don’t think we should intervene...” 

His gaze still focused on the two in the yard. John B stepped in, gently pulling Sarah back a little, he let out a deep breath before giving her a soft but firm look. 

“I know I don’t say this often, but c’mon, listen to JJ. We don’t want to make this worse.”

Sarah clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms as she anxiously watched Y/N and Rafe continue their heated exchange. Her teeth grazed her nail nervously, a flicker of concern crossing her features. 

“Someone needs to get Topper or Kelce.”

As Sarah stood there, unable to tear her eyes away from the two in the yard as their brutal argument floated overhead, she wasn’t sure if just standing back was the right thing to do. 

“What is wrong with you?” 

The look in his eyes was the same: cold, distant, and filled with frustration. His jaw twitched, his muscles tense, as he rolled his eyes at her words. “Oh, here we fucking go,” Rafe muttered under his breath, his sarcasm dripping with annoyance. Y/N’s disgust only deepened. 

Just shut up, just shut the fuck up-

“Seriously?” she said, her voice low but cutting. “Coke? You literally just—”

But before she could finish, Rafe interrupted her brutally, his words coming out in a sharp, unexpected burst.

“Your brother died three years ago,” he spat, his voice rising in agitation.

“Fucking get over it.”

…

Her blood ran cold, her chest tightening at the words, she opened her mouth, ready to retaliate, but her throat went dry. His words had thrown her off completely. She stood frozen, blinking, unsure of what to say in response to something so cruel, so unexpected. Rafe’s eyes never softened; his glare remained hard. Y/N let out a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, more like a scoff that escaped her lips in disbelief. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, her head shaking slowly,

"You’re nothing but a fucking junkie" 

She spat, the words slipped out of her mouth malisciously. At her words, Rafe’s expression flickered for a brief moment- but it was quickly masked by a cold look. His jaw clenched as he took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as he leered down at her, a dangerous intensity in his gaze.

"Oh yeah?" 

He sneered, his voice dripping with a mockery that sent a chill down her spine. His fingers lifted, pointing erratically at his temple as he spoke. 

"I think we both know what you are Y/N."

Y/N’s jaw clenched tighter as she refused to back down. She looked up at him, her eyes locked with his, 

“What am I, Rafe?”

A dark, almost repulsed smirk curled on Rafe's lips, and he leaned in his eyes scanned her face with disgust before he spoke, 

“You’re just a fucking slut”

He spat, his voice low and biting as he jabbed his finger aggressively into his own chest, 

“Throwing yourself at me and when I tell you I don’t want you…” He paused, his finger now pointing towards her house, his expression a mix of anger and repulsion. 

“You whore yourself out to Cooper.”

The boy stood there, his chest rising and falling. Y/N didn’t move, didn’t speak, her expression unreadable, her silence loud in the space between them, the ringing of her pulse loud in her ears. Rafe observed her for a moment longer, eyes flickering between her face and the people still quietly watching from the sidelines. Satisfied that she had nothing left to say, he let out a short, mocking scoff. His lips curled into something between a sneer and a smirk, his hands slipping into his pockets as he tilted his head toward her.

"Am I wrong?" 

He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, like he had won some twisted game. His eyes bore into hers, searching for any sign of weakness. Y/N didn’t respond immediately. She stared back at him, her features neutral, but deep down, she wanted to shout at him, to humiliate him the way he’d just humiliated her in front of everyone. But there was nothing left to say, her throat felt tight, like his words had stolen her ability to speak. 

"You want to know what your real problem is, Y/N?" 

He said, his voice colder now, cutting through the tension. She clenched her jaw, her fingers digging into the palms of her hands, but still, she didn’t speak, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her wavering voice. 

"You're just like your mother- always looking for validation, always trying to get someone to notice you." 

A lump formed in her throat as his words sank in making it hard to swallow. Her lip trembled slightly as his words sliced through her, harsh and unrelenting.  

"Maybe if she paid more attention to you growing up, you wouldn’t be out here begging for anyone’s approval-"

The crack of a slap rang in the air, reverberating in the thick silence that followed.

Rafe’s head jerked to the side and he stood frozen, his cheek stinging from the force of the blow, his eyes wide with disbelief. Y/n’s hand dropped to her side slowly, her fingers curling slightly still feeling the burn of her own action. With a sharp intake of breath, his hand lifted to his face, touching the sting of the slap. He turned to the girl suddenly only to bump into someone. 

"Hey, hey- hey!"

Kelce called out, voice urgent as he moved in between them, his hands outstretched to Rafe placing them on his shoulders, trying to calm him down from moving towards Y/N again. He had finally made his way down with Topper, the two having sobered up from witnessing the entire exchange from a distance as they pushed through the crowd to try and get to the two. Rafe’s angry footsteps faltered as he scowled, barely taking a moment to register who it was before growling in frustration. He clenched his jaw, his eyes flicking toward Y/N again, seething with barely contained rage. Behind her, Topper quickly moved in. His shoulders tensed, and he instinctively put himself between the two. His palm raised defensively, trying to hold Rafe off, though his own body language was tense.

"Come on, man—" 

Topper spoke, his voice more steady, but with an edge of warning as he stepped forward, hand outstretched to Rafe, trying to prevent the situation from escalating further. But Y/N, barely containing her own anger, snapped, 

"Get the fuck off my property" 

She shouted furiously, her words cutting through the tense air. Her words sent a ripple through the crowd of onlookers, making the already awkward situation even more charged. Whispers of ‘he’s psychotic’ and ‘she’s doing too much’ drifting around the patio, but none of it helped ease the already unbearable tension.  Y/N, glared at Rafe, not backing down. His eyes were filled with rage, but he couldn't quite seem to process her defiance,

"You're a fucking bitch, d'you hear me?" 

He yelled back at her, his words laced with venom, his anger practically radiating from him. Y/N laughed bitterly at his insult. Her finger shot out to point directly at him, her stance tense with barely restrained fury.

"I hear you, you asshole" 

She shot back, voice filled with disdain. Topper, now realising the situation was escalating, turned around quickly, his hand coming out to Y/N's arms. He muttered, voice strained as he tried to gently pull her away from the confrontation.

"Y/N, don't do this..." 

Rafe's posture was rigid, his broad shoulders tense as if every muscle was wound tight with anger. He took a step forward Kelce cautious at his movement, his jaw clenched in frustration.

“What, you’re gonna threaten me now? You think you scare me, Y/N?”

She met his gaze with a cold, unflinching stare. “If you don’t get off my yard, I’m calling the fucking cops,”

She said, her voice low and sharp. Rafe’s eyes flickered with mockery, his lips curling into an arrogant smirk as he tilted his head.

“Yeah, you’re gonna call the cops on me? What’s next, Y/N? Gonna cry about it to mommy?”

He laughed bitterly, his chest heaving with the irritation he was trying to hide. Y/N’s eyes never wavered. Her stomach churned, but she didn’t let it show. The words came out of her mouth with disdain, 

“You’re pathetic.” 

Rafe laughed again, that cruel, bitter sound echoing in the tense silence. He ran a hand through his messy hair, clearly agitated.

“You’re not worth my fucking time”

He muttered, his voice dripping with contempt. Rafe didn’t even look back as he turned toward the road. He was breathing heavily, each stride heavy and deliberate, but the lingering tension in his posture remained. Kelce glanced at Topper, a quick, unspoken exchange between them. Kelce’s expression was hard, his eyes darting to Rafe before he turned to follow, his footsteps purposeful and quick. Y/N stood there, watching Rafe walk away, her breath shallow as she fought to keep herself from shaking. Her legs trembled beneath her, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest, suffocating. Her hand still burned from where she had slapped him, but it felt like an eternity ago. She kept her eyes locked on the road, watching until Rafe disappeared completely from sight. Topper’s hand settled gently on Y/N’s shoulder, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the cold, biting air. 

“You okay?”

He asked softly, his voice carrying the weight of concern, but she didn’t respond. Y/N’s face was unreadable, feeling the eyes of the crowd still on her. The air around her was thick with judgment, whispers rising and falling like the waves crashing against the shore not far from her home. She refused to show the anger and hurt bubbling just beneath the surface. Her jaw tightened as she shook her head slightly, brushing off his hand. 

"I'm fine." 

She muttered, her voice low but sharp. She turned and began to walk back toward the house, her steps stiff and calculated. The crowd parted, sensing her need for space, as she made her way up the steps of her patio. Each one felt heavier than the last. As she reached the top, her eyes flickered briefly over the crowd, but she didn’t stop. The murmur of voices still surrounded her, but she kept moving, her gaze fixed on the open door ahead. The noise faded to a dull hum in her ears. Before she could fully enter, Sarah pushed through the group of onlookers, rushing forward with urgency. 

“Y/N—” she called out, but the girl didn’t turn around. 

She didn’t slow down.

Without a word, Y/N walked straight through the open door, her feet carrying her through without hesitation. Her voice rang out, clear and final as she stepped foot inside the house,

“Party’s over.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame @kundaquarius @matthewswifeyy @pillowprincess4him @lilithblackkk @sunny1616

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

What a Mess 7

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: thick!Bucky Barnes

Summary: Your new job isn’t all that you expect. (maid AU – short!reader)

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Cold waves flow over fiery tendrils. You twitch and writhe, hands on your head as you try to control the flurry inside of you. You cum again, you don't know how many that is, only that he hasn't stopped.

Bucky's tongue flicks again. You moan and vibrate as your skin speckles and the sweat slakes down your back, the fabric dampening with your delight. You throw your hands forward as another churning climax takes over. 

You cling to Bucky, curling over his head as you plea with babbling murmurs. He drags his tongue between your folds and growls, ceasing but not parting. He pushes his nose against you and blows a scalding breath down your wet skin. 

He feels along your sides, bending his fingers to caress your back. You shiver and he turns his head, resting it on your thigh. You sit back and watch his breath rise and fall with his broad shoulders.  

He covers one of your hands with his and guides your fingers over his scalp. You keep the pattern, swirling and scratching as he trembles. He reminds you of a dog, begging for affection.  

You stay like that. You don't dare move beyond his will. He rubs your thigh and moves slowly. He startles you as he hooks an around around you, scooping you up as he rises, then lays you over him as he reclines on the couch. 

"I need sleep," he sighs. 

He reaches up to drag down the throw blanket and covers you with it. His naked legs tangle with yours as your wrinkled shirt crumples against his torso. He keeps you in his embrace as he heart calms but yours remains spastic. 

You sense sleep fall over him. You listen to his breath and the rocky snorts in between. His body slackens as you remain tense.  

As he gets the rest he so needs, you lay awake in fear that you will never get what you want. To leave. To get away from this stoic man and his needy hands. 

He wakes as the limbo of your circumstance grows intolerable. He groans and runs his hand down his chest, pushing the blanket to his waist. His dick bobs beneath and you shudder. 

Your mind searches desperately for a saviour. 

"Coffee?" You offer. 

He chuckles and pets your head, "doll, all I need is you. I could wake up like this always." 

You're quiet. That promise is scarier than even his strength. Always? You're a cleaner. You came to mop and sweep. 

No, you’re just a maid and he’s an avenger. He can do whatever he wants. He already has. 

“Doll?” He says. 

“I’ll make coffee,” you sit up. 

His hand lingers on your arm. He could pull you back down. He could do more. He lets you go. You climb over him, his touch brushing over your hips as you do. You pull your pants on and walk away. 

You go to the kitchen and focus on the simple task. You do your best to remember the steps. You get the coffee machine brewing and peek over at the elevator. As you hear him coming, you quickly turn back to the counter. 

You tidy up the bit of clutter form earlier. He nears and yawns emphatically. You glance at the windows. It looks like afternoon. Maybe later. 

“Should probably have more than coffee today, huh?” 

You nod and dry the mug. 

“How about you? Are you hungry?” He asks. 

You shrug. 

He tisks, “did I upset you?” 

You put the cup down gently. There’s a subtle grit in his timbre. You don’t want to push it further to the edge. You face him and wipe your expression. 

“No,” you lie. “I...” you twiddle your fingers and sway. “I’m doing my job.” 

He sniffs and lets out a long exhale. “Which mean? I’m distracting you?” 

You shake your head and your eyes round. 

“I’m irritating you?” He challenges. 

You gulp and shake your head harder, “no, I didn’t say that.” 

“You’re not saying much of anything,” he says. “Makes me nervous, doll. Like maybe you don’t like me as much as I like you.” 

You blink and push your hands behind you nervously, “why-- I--” you stutter. You’re confused. You’ve only done exactly what he wanted. What he made you do. 

“Are you a virgin?” He asks abruptly. You cough in surprise. 

“Bucky?” 

“Is that it? Are you scared? It won’t hurt. I’ll make sure, doll.” 

Your cheeks tinge hotly. You bite down on your lower lip. That’s not your problem. Whether it’s your first time or not isn’t what frightens you. 

“A lot of people are afraid of me. Some even hate me. They think I’m sort of monster,” he taps his metal fingers on the counter between you. 

“I don’t...” you begin and squeeze your hands tight. “I don’t think you’re a monster.” 

“You don’t?” 

“No.” 

“Doll,” he breathes dreamily. “You don’t know how perfect you are, do you? That’s why you’re shy, huh? Never had anyone to appreciate you.” 

You nod cautiously. It’s safer to just agree with him. He grins. 

“Aw, baby,” he rests his chin on his hand, elbow on the counter, and he looks you up and down. “You’re gorgeous. You got the perfect shape, the perfect... size. You are amazing, you know that? You’re built for me.” 

For me. 

Those words make your insides dance. They might be romantic in another context but right now, it’s terrifying. He’s so convinced of what he believes that you know better than to correct him. You just don’t understand what made him think you are anything more than a cleaner. 

“So, what about some food? Got a buddy recommended this place nearby. I can order in,” he offers. 

The flicker of hope quickly fades before it can even truly spark. If he took you somewhere, you might be able to get away, but here you are stuck. Completely. 

“What kind of food?” You ask. All you have to do is play along. It would be easier if you had the same script. 

[aramynx]

hello! i really LOOOVEE your writings especially shouto’s if it’s alright with you could you please write about shouto being such a gentleman as a boyfriend that the reader can depend entirely on him? like the reader is sooo independent until she’s with shouto, she could ‘turn her brain off’ bcs she knows shouto would take care of everything for her hehehehe. THANK YOU IN ADVANCEE ILYYY

YES 🫶 ABSOLUTELY ‼️🫶 I HOPE YOU ENJOYYYYY

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

DEPENDABLE…

SHOTO TODOROKI X READER

summary: shoto is so eager to help you in any way he can, he’s happy to do whatever it takes to make your days even just a little bit easier

a/n: i love this so much actually, it’s more of a ramble than a coherent story but i hope you enjoy! thank you so much for your request! xoxo

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

It was hard for you to learn to depend on others. Until you started dating Shoto, you were absolutely determined to do everything yourself- that’s what you were already used to and it was never really a problem. When Shoto came along, it was like you never had to do anything for yourself again when he was with you.

With Shoto around, you didn’t need to worry about if you’d be able to pay your part of the shared rent that month; if you needed to depend on Shoto a little then you could. He already thinks that you should let him cover the rent since his income is much higher, but understands that you feel the need to contribute. If you chose to stop working at any point, you’d be able to live comfortably with Shoto.

The dynamic of his parents’ marriage isn’t something Shoto wants to recreate in your relationship. Around the house, his mother was always taking care of things; she was constantly exhausted since her workload was infinite. Shoto thinks of it as unfair, since he also lives in your shared home, he should take on some chores when he’s able to.

Usually, you’re very insistent on doing the majority of the work since Shoto is the main breadwinner for you both, so he decides he’ll do his part in the early hours of the morning before you have a chance to wake up and protest.

You wake up tucked into bed comfortably, Shoto’s pillow fluffed up neatly beside you in the empty space. The air is cold as you walk downstairs slowly, making your way towards the pile of laundry you had been avoiding for the last couple of days. As you approched the laundry room, a gentle hum could be heard from the other side of the door. Upon opening if, you were greeted by the pleasant sight of the laundry washed, dried, and folded on top of the machine, separated into yours and Shoto’s respective clothing. Beside it, a small yellow sticky note:

“Good morning, my love. I hope this makes your day a bit easier. Love, Shoto.”

Shoto was always happy to help you- he didn’t think of it as a chore, it was his responsibility. Carrying groceries inside was something he had learnt to master doing in one trip from the car to the kitchen, and of course, your hands were always empty. Whenever you’d go shopping together, Shoto would carry all of the bags, no matter how many. He’d try and fit as many as he could in one hand to make sure you could still hold his other if you wanted to.

Despite having his hands full 90% of the time, Shoto makes sure he opens doors for you, smiling as you walk though and wait for him on the other side. He tends to move himself to the outside of the pavement when you walk together, keeping you close to him in more crowded areas of the city. His hands seem to always stop you from mindlessly walking over crossings without looking; something that he’s grown used to you doing when he’s beside you. Shoto doesn’t really understand why you seem to enter a complete trance around him- he thinks that you get lost in your own little world sometimes, and the starry expression on your face only convinces him more.

He knows how you were before he came along- you’d do everything by yourself, no matter how difficult. He knows you’re capable, but he doesn’t want you to feel as if you need to do everything alone- he wants to look after you to the best of his ability, and he expects nothing from you in return.

Cooking definitely isn’t Shoto’s strongest skill. He can manage the basics, just barely. He’s definitely gotten better by watching you cook for him in the evenings, a starstruck look in his eyes as he does. Nothing tastes better than the meals you cook for him. You’re happy to give something back to the man who does almost everything for you, especially when he smiles so warmly every time you place his plate in front of him. You stay at the table together until you both finish, then Shoto thanks you for the food, and takes your plates over to the sink to start washing up. It’s a little routine you’ve developed over time.

While Shoto’s busy doing dishes, you tidy up the table and wipe it down before heading into the living room and picking a new movie for you to watch together, gathering blankets and cushions to create the perfect cuddle nest. After a few minutes, Shoto comes in to see you flicking through your options. He sets two drinks down on the table in front of you and presses a kiss to your forehead before asking what you were going to watch that night. If you needed anything at all, he’d be the one getting up, no matter how comfortable he was.

When you inevitable fall asleep on the couch, Shoto turns off the movie and scoops you up to carry you to bed, placing you down as gently as he can and tucking you in, his lips lightly pressing against your forehead before he whispers,

“Sweet dreams, my dear…”

Being around Shoto meant that you could float around doing little tasks without worrying about so many things at once- after all, your dependable boyfriend had already managed to get them done before you could object.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

[judesmoonbeauty]

Wrapped In Wicked Romance Part III:

Nica Schwartz - Epilogue

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

Nica: If that’s what you wish, I’ll always up for it.

The clever, sweet whispers in my ear felt like they were toying with my heart, enthralling me.

(But these aren’t his true feelings.)

I know because I’ve watched him all day.

(This guy whispers sweet nothings to everyone, and plays with their heart.)

I was surprised that he was able to make acquaintances just a few days after coming to England,

(Now that I think about it, I understand why.)

He can skillfully use words to penetrate someone’s heart,

Even if you’ve only met once, you’d remember him.

(Also, women are even more attracted to him.)

I too felt tethered to him, until I witnessed that lady killing her husband.

But, not now.

Kate: …..I don’t want to do that, because if I date someone, I want there to be mutual feelings.

Nica: Well then it’s perfect, because you like me right?

Kate: I don’t dislike you, but….

(It’s true that I’ve deepened my understanding of him by being with him for the day, but….)

(But, I still don’t know much about Nica.)

I grabbed the hand that was holding my chin, and stared him down with a strong determination.

Kate: It’s because you really don’t like me.

Deep indigo eyes ripple for just a moment like the water’s surface.

Kate: I don’t think it’s necessary to lie to yourself just to date.

Kate: Suppose I did like you Nica, and you were okay with it, I still wouldn’t date you.

Kate: Because I might end up hurting you.

Once more, rippling eyes illuminated by streetlights shimmer like waves.

His hand released my chin, and ruffled his hair with a fed up look on his face.

Nica:….You’re really weird.

The small murmur reached my ears, and the fake smile vanished.

Nica cracked his neck with a bothersome look and sighed,

Kate: ….That’s better.

Nica: What?

At least for me, I was a bit happy to see Nica’s true self.

Kate: You’re a friendly and smart guy, and that’s great, but this side of you is even better.

Nica: …..You’re a masochist.

Kate: N-no, I’m not.

Watching me deny it so quickly,

Nica: Haha.

Nica bursts out laughing, smiling like a happy child —

(Huh, so he can make an expression like that…..)

My heart squeezed as my eyes were enraptured.

Nica: Then next time, I’ll go tough on you.

Kate: You don’t have to do that.

He returned to his usual self and smiled suggestively.

Kate: I’m going home!

The clock tower in the distance signals that our relationship will end soon,

I picked up the bouquet of flowers that held today’s memories and turned to leave—

Nica: Kate.

When my name was called for the first time, I automatically turned around,

And Nica used his index fingers to lift the corners of my mouth into a smile—

Nica: We’re still a couple.

Nica: Shouldn’t there be a kiss at the end of a date?

Kate: Uh……

My eyes were fixed onto the lips that drew closer to me slowly,

Unable to break away, his breath reached my lips.

(Oh…..)

The moment his lashes grazed the tip of my nose, his scent intoxicated me —

The sound of the bell tolled, marking our end as a couple.

Nica: Ah, that’s too bad.

He stepped back, his scent dissipating, and to my relief, I returned to my senses.

(Why do I think that’s a little disappointing?)

A cold wind hit my painfully aching body, and I let out a sigh.

Nica: Should we head home, young lady?

お嬢サン - Here Nica is using using polite language with Kate addressing her as “Ojosan.” However, because of the katakana form of -san “サン”, it seems to indicate that he may be saying it with a foreign accent. As far as I'm aware, this is the first instance of him addressing her this way in an event.

— This is our distance.

[Transitions to the palace.]

The next day —

Kate: Harrison, Liam what are you doing here?

Liam: Oh, Kate!

I called out to them both who were at the end of the corridor, leaning against the wall and talking about something,

Harrison looked a bit perplexed.

Harrison: Can I tell you something?

Kate: Did something happen?

Liam: Actually -

According to them, it seems that the target of a mission they were assigned to was killed.

Liam: Seems like he was stabbed by his wife too.

Kate: His wife you say…..

(It can’t be that woman….?)

Even though my heart pounds, they keep speaking.

Harrison: The husband apparently purchased women through human-trafficking, and imprisoned them at his estate.

Harrison: He also raked in money by renting the imprisoned women to others.

Kate: That’s such a……

You can imagine just how the women were treated without even saying it.

Liam: That’s why we received the mission, and thanks to his death, the truth of the estate came to light.

Liam: The women were also freed, and we don’t have to go on a mission, but….

Liam tilts his head with a stumped look, and Harrison lets out a sigh.

Harrison: All the money that guy’s earned is gone.

Kate: Does that mean it was stolen?

Harrison: There’s no money at the bank or the estate, so suspicion’s falling onto the wife.

Harrison looked unsettled about it, but then a possibility popped up in my head.

(If I say something without concrete proof, it would only deepen the rift between Vogel….But, if he —)

(—Perhaps, he might’ve done it)

Kate: Ummm.

At that moment, my eyes met with a figure that appeared at the end of the corridor.

My attention was drawn to Nica who put his finger up to his lips and smiled suspiciously,

Kate: Oh.

Suddenly, a white bird flies by and I instinctively shut my eyes.

After I opened my eyes, he was nowhere to be seen, only a single white feather floating down.

(Nica Schwartz. A cunning person who likes to toy with love.)

(But, I wonder why I can’t dislike him.)

The day when my love is toyed with, may not be that far off.

[Event Master List] Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Yes, please, I beg you Nica, please treat us more toughly next time!!!!

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @drachonia

If you are 18+ and wish to be added to my tags list, please comment below specifying the IkeVil suitor, or for all translations.

[cheeseceli]

Prince treatment

Pairing: Song Mingi × Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, headcanons

Request: Mingi princess treatment PT 2 where his feelings get reciprocated and his new s/o brings up his self esteem PLEASE LET HIM HAVE A HAPPY ENDING, HE DESERVES IT 🥺

Warnings: mentions of Mingi being an idol, a little bit of self doubt, not proofread

A/n: part 1 here, you don't need to read it but it'd be cool of you did :) | daily click

It takes a while for Mingi to realise you love him too

Like yes, he has done everything in his power to make you see him

And he has been crushing on you since forever

But he didn't think his efforts would pay off so soon, or at all

So when you start to save him a seat, always next to you, he doesn't think too much of it

When you hug him after a show, he feels proud of himself, but not for once he actually thinks you're reciprocating him

And if his friends tell him you started to stutter around him and you always ask if Mingi is tagging along, he only thinks his friends are teasing him

Overall, he will only be bold enough to assume you like him if he sees it with his own eyes

But all his members comments made it through his head, and now he is a bit more perceptive

Meaning he cracks a joke to make you laugh, but that's the first time you laugh while looking at him

And he also wants to text you first, as usual, but you beat him to it

You also beat him in a lot of other things

He doesn't need to always ask you to hang out, as you do it first now

You start to give him gifts, especially the "it reminded me of you" type

Slowly, his insecurity starts to go away as well

The "y/n would never pay attention at me" statements turn into "they have been talking to me since I stepped into this room"

The thoughts of you not finding him attractive dies a little every time you complimented him

And the ultimate fear, the one that told him you would never like him, is extinguished once he realises that you do

You like him

You haven't told him yet, but he saw it

The eyes never lie. And as you looked at him like nothing else in the entire world mattered, he was sure

He smiles at the thought; he managed to love you right. You both are alright

Masterlist I you'll probably like: right hand, left hand

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @sheraayasherrecs

Dividers by @strangergraphics | images 1, 2 and 3

[mawlbone]

LUCKY RABBIT’S FOOT - KÖNIG

SNIPPET: Preparing for the winter means a lot of preserving and curing food for the long nights ahead. So when a giant rabbit falls into your traps, you can only sigh as you release it once more… And again, again, and again.

[CW: gender neutral reader, socially awkward reader, giant flemish rabbit hybrid König, hunting, mention of dead wild animals, childhood neglect, bullying, bad memory, and loneliness.]

[COMMENT: So many bunny König posts going around… Makes me very happy! Apologies for being very late to the party, but I brought this, have a fluffy little guy to hold. Also I should probably make a hybrid au post like my pet au one, but I will think myself into exhaustion assigning everyone a creature. But in short, like pet au, hybrids are kept as an open secret, kind of, but mostly reserved for military work.]

You realized from an early age that you were a surprise as many of your relatives liked to call you, which in adult-speak is a socially acceptable way to say you were unwanted. For as much as adults likes to underestimate what a child know and doesn’t know, it’s not hard to tell when everyone immediately goes silent when you enter the room.

It’s not like you asked to be born, neither did you asked for much. So why? Why cannot you even get a morsel of the attention that your peers can get. It doesn’t matter, children are adaptable therefore children too get used to feeling disappointed.

Crying gets you nowhere there’s no one willing to find you.

It’s not like they were abusive, there’s enough food on the table and a bed for you to sleep in, but nights at the dinner table while everyone else was out and about without you still inevitably stings. You rarely hear your family anymore, signing off your own paperwork for your own education and attending your own graduation by yourself. No effort in remembering anything about you at all, even at times forgetting your age.

So you don’t know how to act whenever you’re around people. It’s hard to gauge what you’re doing correctly or not when you have no practice whatsoever in knowing how to act. So parties at family friends’ house usually consist of you standing in the background and watching instead of participating in the play that everyone seemed to be part of, except you. Usually you find yourself just fiddling with your clothes or touching any textures your brain found enough fascination in.

Despite everything, if there’s one good grace you get from your family was your grandfather’s house, which you get to visit every summer. He was your stereotypical man: grumpy and grey from a bad leg injury during his service and not much of a talker. You’re sure he puffs more than he breaths in the many times you came to see him, but he made it a point to never do it in the same room as you. You never met your grandmother, she died before you can be born but from the giant portrait of him and her on the wall, you can guess he deeply cherishes her.

When you were old enough, you can remember taking you out for hunting trips with him. Long drives in the car with nothing more than lunch and his old rifles as he lectures you about gun safety time and time again.

During these moments, he’s the most talkative to you. Gently guiding you to the handle and teaching you how to be careful around animals and use every part of them.

Leave nothing behind, it’s the least you can do for taking a life even if it’s for your benefit.

Perhaps such an act would had raise eyebrows from anywhere else but humans are the scariest thing to you, so you ignore them for the most part as you gradually increase from small rabbits to the deers that overpopulate the area.

You’re not sure if you’re his favorite grandchild, but the effort he had done into at least spending time with you made him your favorite family member, you would had invited him to your graduation if it wasn’t for his worsening health.

An inheritance, a little cabin in the woods was what you had received in your grandfather’s will with a considerable sum of money to get you started, no word left behind as usual. Typical grumpy old man he was, you left behind his favorite cigars and flowers at his bed. Though you had to say, you had gotten a bit of a kick in getting the appliances while everyone else was arguing over family heirlooms. Hey, products are not meant to last nowadays, might as well get the oldies.

So here you are, living alone with your company only being the occasional visiting deer outside your window. And your visit into town only consist getting your medicine and last minute groceries nowadays.

It’s nice… The escape from everyone.

No longer did you had to deal with snippy comments for every little action you do in the endless bullying from your household. Still, it doesn’t satisfy that emptiness in your stomach.

You’re not sure what you hunger. It’s hard to tell with the limited amount of energy you have nowadays.

Scattered scribbled notes litter your bedroom and trash reminding you to maintain your schedule: brushing your teeth, taking a shower, making phone calls with your client to pick up their orders… All of it so you can feel some sort of maintenance in your life, at least normal enough to pass for your own self-satisfaction.

You’re too nervous to go to a therapist anyways.

But taking over your grandfather’s hunting business wasn’t what you expected in your career plans, not that you are complaining, it keeps the bills paid: selling the meat, bones, and using what couldn’t be sold to feed yourself from your trips to the woods.

However, the last thing you could had expected while checking on the last of your traps was the fattest rabbit you ever seen stuck in one of your footholds trap with a broken front paw laid in front of you.

All black with the slightest blond stripe down its face, you can only stare as it huffs and thumps its foot down at you. Almost daring at you to pick it up and find out. Hard to look intimidating with giant floppy ears though, as you laugh at the trapped animal.

It’s awfully cute. A flemish rabbit, you learned later after tucking the animal underneath your arm to take back to your truck. Too weak and exhausted to fight back with its injury.

You didn’t kill it.

After all it may had been someone’s pet if anything with how well-maintained its fur is. Though you were met with the fluffiest kick in your life when you had to check its sex wondering about whether it needed to get fixed or not.

You didn’t dare to give it a name, attachments is scary enough as is but taking care of him was probably the most interesting aspect of your year.

His fur was unbelievable soft, better than any fox or deerskin you had touched before when you brought him home. It’s embarrassing how you got yourself in a bit of a giddy after you removed the trap and wrapped the poor thing’s leg after contacting your closest veterinarian for help. Pressing your face into his dense coat while he laid on your lap and eating your greens all while huffy didn’t bother you, it’s probably the closest physical touch you had in years.

Animals were a lot easier to handle than people, you think as you settle him inside a large box of yours laid between thick old blankets you no longer use before in your living room. Just feed and love them enough and they’ll stay with you.

How nice…

You’ll call later to see if anyone lost their pet rabbit, but for now, you get to enjoy laying beside the rabbit and watch as he hides his squishy face from you. You had to hold yourself from squealing at the adorableness of his actions. Even if you panic whenever he gets too close to any one of your notes, fearing he’ll eat them and make him sick.

In weeks time, he’ll make a full recovery and be out of your life. So you’ll enjoy what comfort you can get from this new little creature in your life before he’s inevitably gone.

—

When König escaped into the woods after unexpectedly being ambushed from wrong intel, the last thing he could had expected was for himself to be trapped within a hunter’s trap for hours on end with a broken leg if anything.

A human’s trap to make it worse, as his ears perked up, hearing the crunching of leaves and branches being brushed aside before beady eyes meets you, a painfully ordinary person, he thinks as he watch in dismay as their eyes gaze over his shifted form stuck in their machinery.

Should he be mortified? Yes, yes he should at the threat of a towering human nearby making him feel ever so small again.

All weak and pathetic.

He’s old, experienced, and definitely killed enough men to fill an ocean, so why? Why is he feeling like he’s back in the halls again dealing with spitballs being flung on the back of his head, older children slamming him against the walls for fun, and dealing with daily beating at the back of the school and for the first time in decades…

He feels scared.

For all his muscles and size, he couldn’t save himself for what you plan to do with him.

Maybe it’s the grace of humans to be given enough intelligence to feel merciful towards the small. He doesn’t know. He’s too tired to fight back anymore as you settle him inside the truck after weak attempts to escape. Might as well die without pain, he so thinks.

But nothing could had prepared him for the absolute babying he received once he arrived inside your home. Honestly, it’s almost sickening if he’s wasn’t enjoying it so much as you cooed and pamper him, wiping his paws and checking his bandages regularly with a giant bowl of fresh veggies for him to eat. Hell, even massaging his fur! Never in his life had he been treated as a pet as he cries at the loss of his dignity. But fuck, if he’s not enjoying the sensation of your nails pressing against his skin and soothing him to sleep regularly.

Sure, you may be giggling like some freaks he know every time you press your face into his back but at the end of the day, he’s breathing, alive and even thriving at this unexpected vacation he found himself in. But you have duties to do, your hunting. So often times, he will find brief moments where he’s alone while you’re out hunting to shift and stretch his muscles and do some snooping around your cabin.

He never got the chance to properly take in all the notes taped to the walls of your bedroom as he was placed in another spare room but the sheer amount of paper covering everything was truly a sight. It was nothing important per se, if anything they were just mere instructions on the wall and dates of various kinds of all sort all litter around like a brain and its thoughts. Yellows mixed with blues and pinks and all sort of post its on your mirror and bathroom had him loss in all its vividness. Perhaps the strangest wallpaper he had ever seen if anything.

What a lost human.

He doesn’t know what to feel, perhaps a sense of pity at you or gratitude, which one first would be acceptable? He truly doesn’t know. Emotions are hard and it’s easier to numb everything out.

He’ll have to check in on you often if anything, he concludes once he shifts back after hearing your keys jangle into the front door and the familiar noises of you gently scolding him for getting his bandages all unwrapped again.

When the time comes for him to leave after his leg is all healed up, hopefully he doesn’t get grilled out by his superiors. For now, his mission is to accompany your time as he settles beside you on the couch to rest near the fireplace for warmth this chilly winter.

Goodbyes will be hard, but you won’t be alone anymore.

—

The next spring when you released your rabbit into the bushes, you had to stop yourself from shedding some tears when he refused to leave your lap and letting you have some last minute cuddles. His fur coat is shinier now, all soft and sleek from your endless pampering of the creature and truly did the black fur sparkle in the sunlight as you held him tight before he ran off to the depths of the woods with nothing more than the platters of his feet against the dirt road.

Truly, you thought that will be the last you seen of him. He didn’t appear the following summer or fall much to your disappointment with every pitter patter of your heart, which you desperately tried to ignore. Life still continued, and you’re alone once more with nothing more than your notes and mind to accompany you. But when a peek of black fur comes across your view in the middle of your checkup standing right next to your trap with a familiar thump.

Your heart had quicken as you crashed through the brambly bushes to see your dear bunny looking all grumpy and white from the snow falling down onto his black coat. You were met with 20 pounds of softness as he jumped onto you, giving you enough time to brace yourself as you carried the loaf around and cheering, swinging your rabbit around and around in an excited rampage before settling down once more to inspect him.

His leg is all fine, but there’s a glaring red collar wrapped around his neck with a tag on it.

So he is someone’s pet, you muttered quietly to yourself as you flipped over the sliver tag and brush your glove over the cold metal to find a name embedded onto its surface.

Perhaps it shouldn’t be a surprise once you read it. How fitting for such a large creature…

König, a king, hm?

How perfect, you think to yourself with a nothing more than a smile before your rabbit nudges you to focus back on him with a firm thump against your lap to cuddle him some more, even nudging its head against your check to redirect your focus on him, which you can only laugh at as your hands immediately scrunch his warm sleek fur.

It’s always lonely during this time of the year for you in the silence of nature, but for the first time in years, you get to enjoy it with a floppy eared friend for many more winters to come.