#I had her in my living room window and it was too much sun so I moved her to the kitchen

[angelesca]

w.c. 3.4k💀so much words for this crap / sunday x truckdriver!gnreader (dafuqq is this dynamic), small stories, 99% of the penacony cast are impressed by you(they should be), robin is a cutie pie, sunday is a closeted robin fan, you and sunday squabble daily, sunday your wonweek is showing💗, wrote this in the tumblr drafts vro🔥part crack a/n: farted this out bc i got inspired by this otome isekai manhwa i was reading [truck knight taekbae] + aesthetics inspired by [who made me a princess]

darkness monopolised your vision ever since you got here; day time never graced you. the insulated walls do their job well—only the vibrations, the frayed edges of sound, can be heard. 

chains grip your wrists, the metal twisting into your skin, wringing it like cloth. ouch. what now? maybe if you fart consecutively, and hard enough, you can blow your way out?

"brother... why…?" vibrations again. 

"don’t… monitor… danger."

the iron door creaks. light shines a single ray though the gap, and like the sun, the radiance blinds you. you squint your eyes, tracing the outline of two silhouettes.

the taller one approaches, each stride covering an equal, set amount of distance without a lost beat. "i have one question," their tone dashes against the whetstone, pointing a sharpened blade at you. "who are you?"

their eyes did not welcome any light, no reflection of you in them, as if you were only a whisper of the air. you feel the cracks in your throat. "me? i’m just a truck driver."

you are having tea with sunday.

after the less-than-ideal introductions, the picture cleared: you, a truck driver, are isekai’d into penacony via truck inception(?).

"i apologise for my manners," sunday sips his cup. "when you... suspisciously appeared in my bathroom, unresponding, there was no room to be courteous."

"sorry about that," you play with the rim of your cup awkwardly. "i'm not sure what happened either." the honest truth.

sunday shakes his head. he's majestic. "so, you said that you were…" he taps his chin.

"a truck driver."

"a criminal?"

"... truck driver."

“an assassin?”

"..." you almost turned into one.

little did you know, your lone walk was accompanied by a slithering shadow. except... it was no shadow. it was a dazzling spotlight that had fans and reporters following her repslendent glow, as expected of penacony's halovian songstress: robin.

"you mentioned you were a truck driver," finally, someone knows what a truck driver is. "will you allow me to see it?"

yes, your truck teleported into the dreamscape too. how could you live without them? they sit by a pavement on penacony's streets, hoarding the stares of confused citizens.

you watch an infinite cosmos flare in robin's incandescent eyes. your truck is just that impressive. "wow...! it's so beautiful!"

"what a curious machine," a blue and blonde-haired pair are analysing. "a vehicle that inefficiently operates on wheels? rather old-fashioned."

"what in the ever-lovin' fudge? my great-great-great-great-great gramps had one of those!"

"a sight of blissful beauty blooms before my eyes. amazing!"

“where am i?” 

“acheron, it hasnt even been a minute yet and you’re confused.”

people's eager stomping tremble the earth and sky. it's just that impressive. in the distance, an extra pair of wary eyes observe you.

"i admit, i am still suspiscious of you," sunday crosses one leg over the other. "robin sang nothing but praises. however, i'm afraid i'll need you under my surveillance to prove your trustworthiness."

urk. possessive much? "why are there knives, swords, and rocket launchers on the table?" sunday cocks an eyebrow at you, expecting you to make a move. "... i'm really not an assassin, sunday." but you do know his entire life story, so you're actually his stalker.

suddenly. the room blurs. an annoying static repeats, plucking the sensory wires from your circuit. is he... is he using his thingamajig powers?

"you may not be one... for now." he looks out a large window. you follow his gaze. wait a minute. what are they doing to-

“MY TRUUUUCK!!!” your passion transcends boundaries, past the lower-case and forcing the caps lock. lunging, you rush outside the mansion. "HEy!"

"aaaaa!! run!"

"eeek!"

"nyaa~!" who the hell was that?

"what the..." you are stunned. how dare they vandalise your truck! "was this your order?" you turn to sunday, infuriated.

"what will you do now?" a corner of his lips lifts, provoking.

you clench your fist. no one messes with you, the best truck driver, and only truck driver, in penacony.

hypothetically, if you got hit by a truck and ended up here, could you, a truck driver, hit a penaconian and isekai them over to your world?

"hey, robin?"

"hm?" her smile is innocent, gazing at you with a prospering kindness deserving of its own halo.

you smack your head. a dozen times over. then a few more.

"hey, aventurine?"

"hi hi~"

you shake your head. wouldn't his luck interfere? if anything, you'd be the one to get run over again.

"hey, acheron?"

"who are you?"

doesn't even know who you are despite telling her a minute ago. if she ended up in your world, she'd be asking the same question anyway: "where am i?"

you pick your nose. she'd slice you in half. period.

"hey, rappa."

"dazzling ninja rappa at your service!"

"as am i, the dimension-trespassing truck driving ninja!"

unfortunately, ninja roleplay with rappa is too fun. every friday, you play dnd together and you can't miss it this week.

there's only one person left.

"hey sun-"

"don't."

you stare blankly. "i didn't say anything?"

sunday glares back. "if you are going to speak to me, do it in front of me, and not while starting the engine of your truck."

"tch... damn."

"could i use your truck as a stage prop for my next concert?"

"oh, what if it suddenly rains?"

"what if i accidentally trip?"

you notice a gap in robin's behaviour. "how come you're so nervous today?"

robin looks at you, mouth on the verge of speaking. she looks down at her shoes. "hmm..." she tilts her head, lips mumbling. she hesitates, unready to spill her heart.

there's one thing you do best. you suggest, "why don't we go for a ride in my truck?"

robin's hunched back quickly reshapens itself. it's been some time since you've had a passenger, but with the way robin swiftly adjusts herself in the seats, excited, you don't worry about the mess in the truck. you start the vehicle, ready to stroll penacony's streets.

you hand her a piece of unexpired candy from a compartment, and she accepts the gesture. it doesn't take long before robin settles herself afterwards. she sighs. "... it's my brother, he'll be attending a show for the first time. i'm a bit nervous."

"why would he not be supportive?" you question.

robin shakes her head. "it may be because my brother is a perfectionist. i can't help but believe that he'll be expecting a flawless performance."

halovian songstress robin, a nation-wide icon, for her, expectations continually rise without rest. but for now, she sits next to you as robin herself, without the embellishments and performing. a breath of fresh air.

words of reassurance may be able to tend her heart. "make as many mistakes as you want," you comfort, "you are robin yourself before you are a singer, a civilian, and a sister."

the candy in her palm is scrunched. her heart, opens. robin herself, smiles. not because she is expected to, not because she is told to, but because she wants to. "thank you."

on the eighth day, grant... sunday getting down on one knee for you. wasn't this a bit fast?

your mouth opens. "are you proposing right now?"

"what are you on about?" sunday looks up at you, eyebrows scrunched. in his hands, a riiiiiiiiiiing- no, he's just cleaning his shoes with a cloth. better luck next time.

robin suggested to use your truck like a cabbie. that way, you can still keep your pride as a truck driver, and provide ears for wary hearts:

a student struggling with academics.

someone who doesn't know which direction to take.

the ramblings of a doctor whose words are spoken with precision, slicing his words into the victim's flesh. but behind the gloves are trembling hands that only wishes to sew tight the rotting wounds of a poor gambler, if only he would let him.

a galaxy ranger who witnessed the brevity of lives in the isolated expanse of the universe, walked along the shore of nihility. she departs with you her true name so that when she returns, your heart can accompany her solitude once more.

a young girl who cannot tell if the blood on her hands are someone else's, or her own. every allude to life reminded her of a deathly fate. however, as your passenger, she is reminded that she can forge a life of her own, undecided by destiny. penance and redemption, then, in the end, she hopes to regain her humanity.

you've listened to them all. unlocked each of their hearts, always gave back the key if they ever wanted to return again. turns out, the people of penacony are not much different from those in your world.

robin would pass out if she saw this.

from what you remember, there were 88 doors in the oak family's residence (you're a dedicated fan). you've explored each one, door 86, 87, 88... 89?

a secluded door that can only be seen with eagle eyes. the mystery kindles sparks in your chest, flaming curious fires. you slowly open the door. 86, 87, 88, 89... robins? (one for every door?) they all stare at you within their enclosures, as either posters, figurines, or books cover. in the middle sat a familiar head of grey hair, lowered, back turned towards you.

"sunday?"

the head moves up. gradually, it creaks. never in your life, did you expect to see a robin-crazed hidden room, nor a red-faced sunday. oh robin, the brother you were so worried about, is actually your no.1 fan. sunday's halovian wings flap furiously, doing nothing to cool his face down. his expression seems annoyed to have been caught in the act. "... what?"

"is this your robin shrine?" this is it. this will be your revenge, and the beginning tastes sweet. "so, you're the real criminal out of the two of us."

one can imagine the fumes blowing out of his ears. his eyes glisten, on the verge of tears. oops, he's really embarrassed.

you turn your face away, allowing sunday as much privacy as possible within his very private room. or rather, you are avoiding his eyes to suppress laughter. "you're coming to robin's concert, right?"

"you coming?" you gesture towards your majestic truck. it's a beautiful night for a truck ride.

sunday, your victim, is reluctant, of course. he probably still believes that you are an assassin who will run him over. "i won't die, will i?"

you huff. "i'm just a truck driver. what's the worse i could do? kidnap you?" sunday stares at you, frightened. it does not take much for him to believe in your potential for evil. "it's a joke... i'm not a criminal. or an assassin."

"just for a few minutes," he resigns. score. you open the door for sunday, who eventually sits down. you start the engine.

"welcome." sunday is in your truck. what an achievement. heh. you place your foot on the pedal.

it is silent apart from the engine's buzzing. you hand sunday an unexpired bag of chips from the compartment. he receives it, inspecting the packaging. his eyes trail to the window, studying how the sunset paints penacony with autumn's palette, but beyond it, he is watching the dots of people. you watch the melancholic sunday.

"what's on your mind?" you ask.

"nothing significant."

"well, the whole point of my trucking service is to listen to passengers." you turn the wheel. honestly, you don't know where you're going, and neither does sunday. the moon guides you tonight, two lost souls. "say anything."

sunday fiddles with the bag of chips. "...maintaining the oak family status, work, the people," he finally speaks, "it balances on my shoulders."

you hum, signalling him to continue.

"wouldn't a utopia free from suffering solve everything?"

quite a hard-hitting question for a truck driver, sunday. you nod. "of course. the only problem is that it is not real - everyone is forced into the current reality. it is harsh and cruel..." you blink. "but we are not powerless to it."

"how do you suggest we solve it?"

it is quiet for a moment before your mind wanders to every passenger you've had. they all had one thing in common. "i guess, a lot of people want a shoulder to lean on, an ear to open for them, and a voice to validate their feelings. we can do that."

all those passengers seemed to shine brighter at the end of the ride, ready to chase a dream. you may not be saving the world - you are no hero, just a truck driver - but you help tend the invisible wounds of people: the blood that drips from sharp words, the bruises that sting from deprecation, the headaches.

isn't it fine to take it slow? navigate the dark, little-by-little, and by the end, there will be an even brighter light.

"... i see." sunday watches your hands manoeuvre the truck's mechanics. the flick in your eyes that turn to him, to which he shies away from. then, he rests his eyes. as the truck drives, a silence hangs, one of quiet understanding. bit-by-bit, you gaze into sunday's heart.

it's been some time since you got run over.

adjusting to penacony was difficult at first. you had to adapt to life at the family's mansion, and the daily customs. however, the burden was eased slightly, all partly thanks to a special helper.

every morning, a cup of coffee or freshly-squeezed juice presents itself in the kitchen. every afternoon, your favourite bookshop always happens to have the book you wanted, already reserved for you. every night, your bedroom door slowly opens, quietly. your blanket, moves up to cover your torso. the mess in your room, rearranged and picked up. the back of a hand, feathers over your cheek. and nothing more happens. your little helper is easily satisfied at the sight of a peaceful you.

"does robin know about this room?" you are flipping through an ancient truck magazine.

sunday is wiping the display cabinets. his wings are flapping again, turning to you. "you didn't mention it to her, did you?"

"no, but she's going on tour soon after," you play with the corner of a page. "why don't you send her your encouragement?”

"what do you suggest?" he asks.

you look at the ceiling. it's full of robin's pictures. "a heartfelt letter? personally, i would buy her a truck but i don't think she needs that."

a small laugh escapes sunday's lips. you did not expect that. "that would be nice." he moves over to a desk, and from a drawer he pulls out a page adorned with blue flowers, and a pen.

you walk over to his desk. "you're into stationary?"

"i don't see why not," sunday says, "my work requires mostly writing, after all."

he begins from the top: 'dear sister,'. from there, sunday is a bit clumsy and awkward, asks her how the weather is and if she had breakfast. "... i've never done this before," is what he said. but gradually, the pen picks up, and the words flow. now, there was too much left unspoken when sunday reaches the final line, and had to cross out the sentence he was writing. a total of four pages, both sides filled, with more words waiting to be said - those would be left for when the siblings reunite.

"maybe we can have the people of penacony sign it too." you smile, imagining robin's elation when she reads it.

sunday nods. he scratches his signature and hands the paper to you. "here."

you take the pen, hesitant. "what's this for?"

sunday raises an eyebrow. "you're a citizen of penacony, are you not?"

... oh. were you? your throat dries. when did you become a part of penacony? weren't you... just a truck driver?

sunday watches you contemplate. a silence drawls. suddenly, he wraps his hand around yours, holding the pen still. "why are you hesitating?" nib meets page. ribbon by ribbon, the ink dances. "you belong here, don't you?"

your chest grows warm. you weren't expecting that either. full of surprises, aren't we? the same person that chained your hands and observed you, coldly answered to you, is offering his warmth. his hand is resolute, unwilling to let go. it reassure your doubts. you smile.

the pen lifts:

'from, your loving brother and, your dear friend.'

surprisingly, sunday has gotten comfortable with your presence in his forbidden robin cove. as you have with his in your magnificent truck.

yet, as much as you've driven closer, the gap is bottomless. sunday doesn't appreciate you looking at him, yet, he's allowed to drill holes in you when you're not aware?

you've asked robin, but she answered cryptically with a smile. "he used to watch over me as well, overprotective as always, but i'm sure that's his way of expressing himself when words fail him."

you reccount the passing moments.

a person more of action, lesser of words. for his people, he worked endlessly without their validation. for robin, he hid in the shadows of his much brighter devotion and support. for you, he let you slowly seep into his life, and you absorbed him into yours. a truck driver and an overqualified partner-in-crime.

quiet devotion is a tender song. without the beating of his loud commands, penacony would be left unprotected. without the instrumental scratching of his pen, there would be no light on the streets. without the percussive clicking of his shoes, the citizens would not be able to dance and celebrate.

this was sunday's song; no one else heard it, but it hums beneath the surface, invisible. those who press their ears against it can sense its vibrations. a silence that speaks louder than words or lyrics. and now, you can't mistake it, your heart beats to the silent song.

it is the night of robin's last stage in penacony. you and sunday stand on a balcony, watching over her. the final song sways along the night-caressed breeze, setting free the wings of hopeful listeners and dreamchasers.

though for a certain someone, he was using more of his eyes than ears. when you meet his golden pair, they turn away as usual.

"what's with you?" you lean against the railing.

his hands hide behind his back. "nothing significant."

"hey, i thought we were past that already. i told you i'm a truck driver who listen to their passengers."

silence hangs. a few more spoken words, "and? have you told your story?"

"me?"

his eyes find yours, but they don't turn away anymore. behind his role as penacony's figure and as a brother, it is sunday who is talking to you. in his gaze, it doesn't judge, impartial, waiting to listen, asking if it is okay for you to lend him your key.

he's come a long way into this journey. now, he awaits at your doorstep. the words catch in your throat. "i'm... just a truck driver..." you close your eyes. "a truck driver who got lost here."

sunday shakes his head. "i’m not asking about one miniscule part of your life. behind that is you who experienced a reality that built the person in front of me," his voice is shaky. an unsteady hand opens and closes, hopes to reach out for yours, but is uncertain. "i'm... asking for permission to learn all of you."

"..." robin's song is about to come to an end.

you look at the mirror. a mirror that always reflected only you, now fits one more person in the frame. that is your answer.

the you who is listening, reading, watching, all your past versions converge into this quiet meeting. usually, the mirror rejected, criticised, and distorted. but today, it finally listens. the mirror holds your reflection to be true. before you got to penacony, before you stood in the middle of a road, before you became a truck driver, you were...

"speak to me. i'm here to listen as you have for others." and keep that key to his heart, for it remains open unconditionally, always a place for you in there.

two losts souls, under the moon, found a home in each other.

a person closes the novel they were reading. they pick up their phone and start typing:

“-4.2/5 rating, absolute horror. where was robin at the end? i was waiting for her! and what’s with all the mirrors and life lessons? preeeeetty criiiinge. i'm reading a fantasy novel, not a lecture. why is mc even a truck driver anyways? also, not enough hand holding, and definitely not enough kissing. zero points!” this random nobody criticises, slamming fingers on the screen. they pause. “i wonder when the next volume will be released…”

a/n: great use of my holiday tbh, get everything out b4 i'm busy again💖i hate drawing hoyo charas they're so detailed, applause to all the hoyo artists u guys r goated fr i thought itd be cute to turn this into a series. i have some deleted ideas since i only wanted this to be a short piece (i got carried away smh). but tbh this fic ended off nicely, i dont think it needs continuing. idk. i like pistachio ice cream thanks for reading!!😲

[pocket-vvardvark]

WIP Wednesday

Ty for the tag @skyrim-forever @thequeenofthewinter <33

I'd like to tag: @aviel-the-trans-bucket @hircines-hunter @fangsandsoftgrass @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @scholarlyhermit @sanza-17 @sulphuricgrin @changelingsandothernonsense @progmetol @varlaisvea @yansurnummu @yewphoric @lucius-the-sinful no pressure as always!! ♥️♥️♥️🥰 Love ya'll with my whole heart

I've got a new chapter in the works for sweet decay 🤪 so, here's the WIP under the cut bc it's sorta long

Rivenspire is cloaked in the warmth of the sunrise. Blooming across dry earth, it softens the land’s foreboding appearance into something habitable. Having been awake for far too long, Verandis palms his sunken eyes as the soft glow filters in through open windows behind him. At the very least, the weather was somewhat pleasant in favor of the most recent heatwave. His body is no longer among the living, but the heat still drove him onto the edge of exhaustion just as easily as it would to a human. Voyage to Lillandril would be a pleasant escape to the lingering heat, and a part of him missed Summerset. Among the cities in Summerset, he supposed Lillandril was the fairest. Cradled upon the sea, the wind which swept only the most beautiful flowers was tinted with a satisfying chill against the heat. His thoughts shift to Angelica; briefly imagining her time on the island. Yesterday, she mentioned her distaste for Altmer culture, which was fair in its own right. No matter how hard a half-breed attempted to live up to their purpose, no full-blooded Altmer would label them anything but an Ephem. As saddening as it was, this was the way of his people. Thumbing over a groove on the hardwood of his desk, Verandis mulls over his relationship with the pesky minx. It was growing, that's unfortunately true, but to what extent? It had been an incredibly long time since he called another his lover, and oddly enough, Angelica didn't seem the type. She seemed content to toy with him, refusing to acknowledge him as anything other than good fun. Although, her gentleness from the other day did start to confuse him. The whole situation vexed him; feeling like a bumbling idiot left in the dark of some grand plan. Years of building House Ravenwatch softened him, and maybe that was why he was far too slow on the uptake. Regardless, the job needed to be completed, and he supposed he should use her…talents she so dramatically bragged about. The sun rises above the trees, signaling it was time to move. Verandis does so, gathering the bare essentials and finally roaming the halls until he reaches Angelica’s room. Raising a hand to knock, his knuckles fail to reach the door as it's opened before he can. 

She smiles. It's surprisingly bright for how strangely she acted the other day. Another facade? He'll see in time, Verandis assumes. 

“So…it's time?” Casting red hair aside, she tugs it into a messy bun of locks, then pats her leathers down. Ah, another surprise; that she's actually wearing proper clothes this time.

Prepared to suffer by her hand from whatever acts of mischief she'll no doubt drum up, Verandis answers with the utmost exasperation, “Yes. Bring along what you need.” Squinting, he watches as she disappears back into her room to procure a satchel.

“I do hope that's necessary.” 

Laughing as she peeks into the standing mirror, she makes one final adjustment to push her breasts up. “Oh, hush. We're taking a trip to the market, right? I'll need gold for that…among other things.”

‘Among other things’, that little remark did not inspire much of anything in him but annoyance. She hoists her arm into his, linking together as she bats her lashes. “I’ve been waiting for a chance like this; to come along on some grand adventure with the Count of House Ravenwatch. My sister told me all about you, you know.” 

He's pulled along with her, walking a stride slower due to their height differences. It would seem her younger sister had a bit of a loose tongue. Thinking about Alethia softens his expression, though, he knows there was no ill intent behind her excited story-telling. She couldn't keep a secret, that much he knew.

“Did she, now? I can only pray she had good things to tell.” They pass the doors, already walking down the rough, cracked path to shornhelm. 

Making a sound rivaling that of a disgruntled guar, he’s bewildered enough to glance down at her. She sticks her tongue out once he does, “That's what I think about your stupid attempts at being posh. Or…maybe you're shy. Are you shy, count?”

She snorts, tugging at their linked arms with an impish grin. 

“You-” Verandis scoffs, but he makes no move to wriggle away, only yielding to her kisses placed on his cheek. “I'm not shy. You're just…too overzealous for me. Not even Gwendis is this tiring, I should have you know.” 

Gasping dramatically, she feigns a sniffle, “Breaking my heart so soon? How could you…I thought we shared something special.” 

“Special? Hm, I had the distinct feeling I was but only a tryst to you, Angelica.” Their footsteps halt on the barren path of dirt as Verandis stops. He grazes a knuckle over her cheek, relishing in her sudden speechlessness. There's a hint of intrigue in her eyes, but something much less distinct; embarrassment. 

“Tsk, tsk…” the pad of his thumb strokes the tip of her cheek bone, “Projecting, are we?” 

Life spreads back into her features, moving her lips as her expression excites, “Projecting? No way, now you've got to buy me something like you promised.” 

Nothing gets past her, he's sure of that as she reminds him of what foolish words he uttered last night. It almost worked, if she hadn't been so perceptive. No matter, it would prove useful in the next days they’d spend together 

“A shame you hadn't kept your promise, then.” She blinks, fascinated by the ethereal hue his carmine eyes take against the bright sunshine. It steals her breath away, causing the briefest stirring deep in her belly. Truthfully, she was beginning to fluster at the sight of him like this; gazing down at her with such a romantic expression, like he could dip her back any second for a kiss. There was no love lost between any number of her trysts and herself, as the fickle emotion only served to complicate things. It stood in the back of her mind, though, as if it tempted her into taking that step. Oddly numb, she couldn't make sense whether she even wanted love. Sure, she'd never stayed quite this long with any of her romps, but it felt strange to just up and leave like they never met. Perhaps it was as her mother said, that one day she would want to settle down, to be with the one man who stole her heart. A flush does make its way to her cheeks, so light a dusting that Verandis nearly mistakes it for the sun on her skin. She takes her own embarrassing reaction in stride, smiling to him so lovingly that they both falter in each other’s grasp. Unlike the night they shared, it is him who concedes first, his grasp brushing away so softly she misses it. Clearing his throat, they continue down the path until Shornhelm can be peered at in the distance. The blob grows until she can see the roofs, the people, and of course, the market. Angelica observes the sights, its fairly different from both of her homelands from what she can recall from both Summerset and Western Skyrim. Hard times have clearly claimed most of Rivenspire’s goods and, frankly, the morale, too. Most shopowners looked more like they were proud owners of shacks rather than appealing homes; it went double for their wares, unfortunately. The only exciting things left were the rare pieces of jewelry she spotted along the way, and the occasional sneak she took of the count’s face while he was deep in thought. A local apothecary catches her attention, drawing her closer until several ingredients greet her eyes. The woman looks only to be a few years younger than herself, smiling but ragged after whatever turned shornhelm into turmoil. Hopefully, after her sister’s little adventure here, things would get better. Nevertheless, Angelica wasn’t entirely heartless, so she took what little ingredients were left and paid a little extra. She winks, and tugs the count along before the young woman can argue against the generous amount of coins splayed across the worn market stall.

“Well…I believe that’s all I’ll be in need of. Never hurts to pack a few poisons.”

If he noticed what happened, which she realizes he must, it doesn’t earn her a conversation. Either perturbed by her shocking display of kindness, or their recently shared embarrassment, Angelica cannot tell beneath his seemingly aloof gaze. 

“We should get a move on, then. Rivenspire lacks ferries, so we’ll have to carriage our way to Glenumbra.” She wants to kick herself for feeling disappointed he doesn’t thrust his arm out for her to hold, but makes due with this new development. It’s not like they were close, but she was finding herself longing for some type of…praise from doing good. Divines, did whatever happened last night really affect her that badly? She hadn’t thought so, until her thoughts soured from every woman which passed their way to ogle Verandis’ human disguise. A part of herself swelled in pride when they sunk back down upon her appearance by his side. That feeling was only doubled when she realized they would never know his secret, and such an intimate secret it was. Jealousy wasn’t her style, but she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to swathe the Count in her perfume before exiting the castle next time. He certainly smelled better in it than whatever ancient perfume he wore beside her. Curious, she peeks over to marvel at his disguise. Honestly, she preferred how he always looked; with eyes as red as rubies and alabaster skin. It simultaneously enthralled and got her feeling rather heated. Such raw and dangerous intent was no longer evident in his now honey-colored eyes, and that left her feeling quite bored. Although…she could make due with those amber eyes if they watched her with the utmost adoration; that would be her goal for the day.

Grinning, she’s back to her confident self, looking as mischievous as a nixad. He realizes she snickers like one, too.

“Do I dare ask what you’re conjuring up behind me? I fear you, at times.”

Prancing back to his side, her fingers curl into his own, forcing him to slow his stride once more.

“Nothing much, just admiring the view.”

He snorts, “Of my backside? How quaint.”

Nudging him, he gains an eyeful of the sweet little twist of her lips, “It's a very disarming backside.” 

Sighing, he can't help but chuckle at that, “Whatever shall I do with you?”

His eyes jump between her own, searching for the reply her lips twitch with. Angelica settles for a gentle peck on his nose, laughing when he wrinkles it from the tickle. 

“I'm sure you'll dream up some elaborate plan to keep me quiet, darling.” 

[darkpuppysuit]

~Chapter 3~

Hybdrid!BTSxHuman!Reader

⚠️WARNINGS: Marijuana use, alcohol use, hybrid scenting, dirty talk (nothing too extreme I don't think, not this chapter anyway😏),

MATURE THEMES MDNI!!

It's been just over three months since the hybrids had slipped into Y/n's barn that fateful night and they couldn't be happier. Hoseok wakes up early with Y/n every morning and only after light conversation over a cup or two of coffee he goes for a small jog around the farm, sometimes Namjoon will join him only to stop in the sunflower field to watch the sun rise while he reads a book from the never ending shelf in the living room.

Seokjin wakes up a few hours after Y/n does and helps her make breakfast for the eight of them every morning bantering back and forth, asking questions, learning new things from her. He admires the motherly aspect of her personality whole heartedly. Is this what it felt like to fall for a someone? To not only see how perfect they are but how imperfect they are at the same time? 

Don't get him wrong he's no saint but to him, there's just something about the simple and easy purity in being taken care of for a change, instead of being the one to take care of others that keeps him smiling at her clumsy little hands when she almost drops the bag of sugar onto the floor one morning or the way she blushes every time he bends down to her level to look into her beautiful pale blue eyes, listening to her talk even though he can hear her just fine standing up straight.

Yoongi will normally wake up the second he smells breakfast being made, shuffling into the kitchen resting his hands on Y/n's waist before nudging his nose against her bare neck before walking to the coffee pot to pour him his own cup of coffee with a few ice cubes mixed in. Finding his perch in the reading nook in the living room across from the large couch gazing out the large window, probably bird watching or something. 

Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook almost never wake up before noon so most of the morning chores are done before they even get out of bed giving the three hybrids an almost completely free afternoon to do what they wanted.

Despite Jimin's smaller lean frame he's a great help with the farm animals, giving the new baby chicks names like peaches or something that just seems a little too butch for a small, soft little ball of yellow poof. Y/n is slowly teaching him how to ride a horse, starting with Dove who was thoroughly trained by Y/n herself. 

She leads the horse around the open pen by the rope she tied to her bridle to guide Dove around with Jimin holding onto the straps for dear life the first go around but with Y/n's encouraging words and kind hearted smile, he was determined to be able to ride a horse like she does one day just conceivably sooner rather than later. 

"Tomorrow we're going to have that bonfire I've been putting off for the last few days. Emily and John are off work on Saturday so they said they would come by with some goodies. Knowing Emily that could only mean weed and alcohol." Y/n rubs the sleep from her eyes only slightly mumbling half her words to Seokjin who is surprisingly up before she was, Hoseok having already run out the door for his morning jog. 

Seokjin looks at her curiously and a little bewildered handing her cup of coffee to her just the way she likes it. "Alcohol I'm familiar with but weed? Not so much, actually not at all if I'm being honest." They both take a sip of their drinks, Y/n setting her mug down on the table walks over to the cabinet next to the stove to pull out a few pans and a pot. "Marijuana, I know it's not for everyone and there's a lot of rumors and such surrounding it but damn does it make you feel better than just being drunk. Being cross-faded is my personal favorite." He doesn't say much when she explains all the different strains and weird names, some are funny he'll admit but not out loud.

Y/n hasn't been able to wear anything other than long sleeves and chaps over her jeans since taking in the squirrely, stubborn mustang and the wear and tear the horse is giving her, being bucked off only a handful of times, she has gathered a small crowd around the fence barely paying them any mind. "Where do you think she learned all of this from?" Jimin leans over his crossed arms on the fence speaking to the moose hybrid who's staring intently at every move the horse makes including every tug and pull Y/n answers him with. 

"I think she said her cousin started teaching her when her grandfather broke his hip but, whoever taught her did a damn good job, she's only fallen off once since I've been here and that was a few hours ago." Jungkook kicks the fence post with the boots Y/n had bought all of them just last week, only now being able to really wear them when he was out here with her just past the sunflower field and a few yards away from the large pond where the cows stood grazing on the green grass at the break pen. 

Namjoon and Jin join the other two hybrids at the fence when Y/n is bucked forward over the mustang's head, quickly standing to her feet only for her chest to be met with a kick from the tired horse and she hits the fence with force, her hat flying off and her head hitting a post in the process. Namjoon and Jungkook are the first to spring forward, jumping over the gate one grabbing the horse by the bridle and the other rushing to Y/n's side the retriever and jaguar hybrid following close behind. 

"Y/n! Holy shit! Are you okay? Y/n!" Seokjin kneels down in front of her slumped figure somehow getting there before Namjoon or Jimin could, her head hangs low and he scoops her face into his warm hands trying to get her to react. "Y/n! I swear if you die on me I'm going to burn all of your vinyl records! Elvis Presley included!" It was an empty threat but when she doesn't respond to it like she had many times before Seokjin starts to panic even more, shaking her in a desperate attempt to wake her up. 

"Goddammit, someone get Yoongi she's not responding but she's breathing. Don't just stand there, go!" Namjoon yells at the younger hybrids and they both take off sprinting towards the house as fast as their legs would carry them.

Namjoon kneels next to the jaguar hybrid who is doing anything he can to get Y/n to respond to him, he puts a hand on Seokjin's shoulder and he looks at him with tears running down his face. "We should've came out here earlier, maybe- maybe this wouldn't have happened and she would be f-fine." Seokjin chokes on air as he pulls her body close scenting the top of her head heavily, fearing the worst.

A few minutes later Y/n slowly comes to her senses, her eyes flutter open with a grunt, reaching for the back of her head and winces. "Ow." Is the only word that falls from her lips when Seokjin and Namjoon help her sit up, a look of pure shock on Seokjin's tear stained face that he attempts to clean with his sweater sleeve. "Could you possibly- never do that again?" Seokjin quips with a half hearted smile as the other five hybrids come running from the house and yelling down the slope of the hill towards them. 

They barely get the gate open as Yoongi slides through the dirt to kneel in front of her. "I heard you hit your head. How are you feeling kit?" Besides the throbbing in the back of her head she was fine to say the least, Yoongi and Namjoon help her to her feet and Jimin hands her the hat she was wearing.

Dusting it off on her pants she sets it back on her head straight and she sighs followed by a whistle. "That bastard is going to be glue here in the next five minutes I swear to Gods." She grunts as she fixes her belt, her scent of burnt leather and ashy cedar signaling to the hybrids she was pissed and not to get in her way. 

Looking around to locate the horse, spotting it trotting in a circle on the other side of the break pen, she sets her sights on him and stomps towards him tapping him on the snout before swinging herself onto the saddle strapped to it's back and to her surprise when she pulls on the reigns he follows her every command for the next two hours, Jimin was even able to get close to the mustang without it flinching or kicking. 

The next day at the grocery store in the freezer section the hybrid's stuck to Y/n like super glue giving her almost no breathing room. "Hey my boys, What do you think about meatball subs for the bonfire tonight?" Y/n turned to ask the lot of them what they thought, some of their cheeks burned when she called them her boys others stumbling over their words or fumbling with their hands or even looking at anything else other than her. 

Namjoon is quick to mumble an agreement before Y/n could even catch onto their stiff movements. Moving to the next aisle over into the bread section to get some buns and maybe snag a small bag of candy along the way the hybrids had disbursed into different areas of the store looking for any snacks that would be good to munch on later. 

Y/n is quietly humming to herself when there is a sudden presence behind her, the being starts to rub her back and Y/n's hair on the back of her neck stands on end because this isn't one of the hybrids she's come to love and know so well.

"Hey baby, miss me?" Y/n shivers when his nasty breath ghosts across her skin as she's frozen to her spot, staring at the nearly empty shelf in front of her. 

She takes a deep breath, her body is vibrating with anxiety and her vision slightly blurs due to the tears collecting in her eyes. "Wh-What are you doing here Adam?"

Adam lays his meat cleaver sized tattooed hands onto her shoulders giving them a tight squeeze. "I've come home, I told you I'd come back when I got out or did you forget?" He turns her around harshly and her hat falls off her head and into the cart next to her. "You know what happens when you say shit like that, you never could hold a lot in that tiny brain of yours could you?" 

He chuckles at her terrified expression and her clouded eyes as a tear falls onto her cheek. "I-I'm s-sorry, it won't happen a-again." Y/n stares at the ground when he waves his hand in her face causing her to flinch hard tapping the back of her already hurting head on the shelf behind her. "Tsk tsk, I'll let it slide since I just got back but," He leans in close to her ear the smell of shitty cigars and dry gin stinging her nose, he puts a death grip around the softer area of her ribs squeezing hard most likely bruising her tender body but she hardly reacts because she knew if she was to make a face, a sound, anything it would set him off like it had so many times in the past. 

"When we get home I'm going to fuck you until you can't get off the bed much less twitch." His disgusting words rang through her head over and over again, her eyes misty, tears falling onto the plaid work shirt, tilting her head down further her trauma response is to lay her head on him. When the top of her head meets his chest he chuckles darkly wrapping his large arms around her.

"Good gi-" Before Adam could get another word out edgewise, a fist makes contact with his cheek causing him to fall to the ground with a thud and a loud grunt, taking Y/n to the ground with him.

Namjoon and Yoongi come to her aide running and manage to free her from his grasp but she's barely able to stand on her own shaking legs as she watches Taehyung, the soft cuddly hybrid she thought he was, throw a few more hits every time the man tries to get up off the ground. 

"Tae, that's enough. I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!" Namjoon barks when he sees blood dripping from the human's brow, the white tiger hybrid stands to his full daunting height, looming over the groaning thing on the floor looking over at Y/n.

His eyes soften when he sees her trembling form, she's weak at the knees and by the look of her glossy eyes and scent of wet, soggy leather and moldy cedar they could tell she wasn't mentally here at the moment. 

"What the fuck happened?" Jin shouts as he and the rest of the hybrids rush down the aisle with arms full of snacks and drinks. "Where's Y/n?" Jimin asks when he sees a different human on the floor groaning in pain. Namjoon moves to the side, the retriever hybrid catches a glimpse of her soft glossy hair on the other side of him covering her face making it hard for him to look her in the eyes. Jimin walks towards her carefully, leaning down to her level, tucking some of her hair behind her ear when she makes eye contact with him and slowly comes out of her own head. 

"J-Jimin? I'm so s-sorry. I didn't- he-" Her voice was trembling as well as her body, leaning against the shelves behind the three of them, her hair falling around her flushed cheeks. "Hey, hey hush. No don't do that you did nothing wrong. Let's get our stuff paid for and go home okay? We have a party to host remember?" Y/n nods her head, taking a deep breath as Adam picks himself up off the floor with a stomp. 

"She's not going anywhere with you filthy animals, if anything she's coming home with me!" He barks at nobody in particular as he's still trying to get his vision to focus. Y/n's head snaps up at his voice before she walks right up to him pointing her finger in his face, her jaw set as she rips him a new asshole.

"I'm not going anywhere with anyone! We are going home Adam, if you so much as follow us out of this store- I have a shotgun in the bed of my truck with your name on it." Though her threat was empty and there was indeed no shotgun in the back of her truck Y/n still growled it at him all the same before turning around and walking away.

Back at the house Y/n is rushing around trying to get everything ready, cooking the meatballs in the crockpot, making sure all the alcohol she bought was either in the freezer or the fridge. She sets out some snacks and makes sure there were enough blankets and lawn chairs for everyone to sit on.

Hoseok watches her run around like a chicken with her head cut off for a few minutes, sweating underneath her work clothes and just when Y/n is about to pass him for the fifth time he grabs her by the arm and pulls her towards him, their bodies colliding together as Hoseok holds her close. 

"Take it easy honey. Why don't you go upstairs, take a shower and get out of your work clothes for a change? It's hot as hell outside and it's only going to get hotter next to the fire later." Hoseok winks then quickly wraps an arm around her waist pulling her body even closer to his, staring into her eyes as his gaze roams over her face, committing her shocked expression and pink cheeks to memory gently rubbing his cheek against hers. 

Y/n lays her hands on his chest, the fox hybrid starts purring in her ear before he opens his mouth to speak again. "Go on, go get ready pretty." He turns her around pushing her towards the stairs, giving her ass a firm smack and before she could protest Hoseok chuckled claiming the rest of them could handle what was left. 

Once Y/n was finished with her long hot shower, finally washing away all the dirt and grime collected on her soft skin her phone rings. Picking it up she answers her best friends video call. "Hey girl, you ready for tonight? Just a few more hours!" Emily squeals on the other side of the phone which causes Y/n to wince at the sudden volume change, opening her large closet to find something to wear. "Not exactly I mean I have all the food and alcohol fixed, finished, and ready to go. The one thing I have no idea what I'm doing, is picking what to wear." 

Y/n doesn't know why the pit of her stomach is doing flips every time she thinks about the party that's only a few hours away, maybe because she knew how horny she could be when she was inebriated and it's slowly starting to make her sick.

Taking a deep breath as she puts on a matching pair of lace underwear and her favorite lace bra when Emily chimes in again. "Oh, wear those booty shorts I got you for your birthday last year with that pretty purple tank top that hugs your curves just right!" 

She says excitedly, Y/n can't help but roll her eyes at her through the phone sifting through her closet dresser. "Why do you always dress me like a whore when we do things together?" Now it's Emily's turn to roll her eyes. "Because If I didn't you'd be dressed in your country hick clothes and we can't have that, not when you have seven hybrids checking you out on the daily when your back is turned." Y/n can't believe the words that just flew from her best friends mouth, is that all she thinks about these days? 

Trying to get Y/n laid or to find someone to have for the rest of her life she didn't know but either way Emily needed to calm down. "Em, you know I'm in this for the long haul, I don't care if they're checking me out when my back is turned, it's probably just part of their hybrid instincts or something."

After a few minutes of arguing and throwing insults each others way Y/n is finally able to get dressed just as their conversation was coming to an end. "All I'm saying Y/n, is you need to ask them about the scenting part of being a hybrid because I heard it's important to their health, but it hurts like a bitch." Y/n didn't know why it would hurt so much, their scenting has been pretty mild and she doesn't mind it when they put their hands on her, it comes with the territory after all. 

Meanwhile downstairs, Seokjin is making sure the last few finishing touches inside the house are done while Jungkook and Namjoon fill buckets of water from the outside spout, taking them down to the large wood pile, along with other burnable junk, incase there were a few flaming fly aways.

Hoseok and Jimin were in the living room playing some type of combat game meanwhile Yoongi had tucked himself in the reading nook like he always does and Taehyung is messing with an old camera he found underneath the stairwell when he was looking for new sheets for his bed upstairs. 

Namjoon slowly follows Jungkook up the back steps sweating more so than normal when he comes in from outside, grabbing a towel from the dryer on his way through the kitchen.

Seokjin stops him before he can cross the archway into the foyer. "What's going on with you? You're shirt is soaked through and your body is literally hot to the touch." He sighs as Namjoon puts the towel on the back of the chair beside him. 

"I don't really know Jin, this has never happened to me before. I keep sweating bullets and can't catch my breath when I even think about-" The wolf hybrid is quickly distracted before he can finish his sentence when Y/n comes down the stairs, her large chest bouncing perfectly underneath her bright purple tank top.

Moving his eyes downward he notices she's wearing really short jean shorts with her tiny bare feet padding down the stairs, her ankles adorned with gold and silver chains with tiny charms on them. 

But what makes the air hard to breath for him and the others in the room is her golden sun kissed skin, they thought was an empty canvas, is actually covered in tattoos from her ankles up her thick thighs to her hips and from her wrists up to her shoulders with a few odds and ends littering her chest cavity.

She turns to walk towards the living room and Namjoon could barely see the beginnings of a moon phase tattoo leading downwards to what looks like a very old tramp stamp. 

"Holy fucking shit. Taehyung, you sir owe me twenty bucks!" The moose hybrid pats the tiger on the back hard which causes him to grimace when he drops a small gear onto the counter top of the kitchen island almost losing it in the sink, he looks back the moose with a death glare.

"Y/n, when were you going to tell us your whole body is covered in art like a fucking goddess cause goddamn, you're something out of one of those erotic novels." Hoseok grabs her by the hand spinning her around from the archway in the living room towards the kitchen. She lets out her beautiful unfiltered laugh that rings throughout the house before coming to a dizzy stop in front of the staircase again. 

"Whoa fuck, sorry I guess I'm so used to having them that I kind of forgot?" Trying to get her vision to focus again Y/n has yet to realize she was wobbling her way towards Namjoon and before either of them knew it she trips over her own feet and towards the floor but before she could hit the floor Namjoon swiftly catches her in his arms. Holding her by her lower back with one arm as the other wraps around her upper body his hand instinctively caressing the nape of her neck to keep her head from bending back too far. 

Y/n wraps her arms around Namjoon's neck and when she looks up again, like something out of a movie, her pale eyes meet soft chocolate orbs. Namjoon's ears flick around listening to every gasp and oh my gods barely able to hear them as he locks eyes with Y/n. The very person plaguing his mind with her curvy breed-able figure and sweet southern accent all fucking day.

Namjoon wasn't sure what to do in this situation he was perpetually frozen, in one hand he had his alpha screaming bloody murder at him flashing all sorts of lewd and pornographic images of all the different positions he could have her in within the hour, making him sweat even more and his body vibrate with electricity.

He can feel her cool skin sizzling against his own blazing touch on her lower back, not to mention his issue downstairs. He was just hoping, praying even, that when he stood up straight no one would mention the growing tent in his pants. 

Before either of them could utter a single syllable the doorbell rings, quite literally saving Namjoon by the mother fucking bell. It startles him to the point he almost drops Y/n on the ground needing to get out of there as soon as physically possible. "I should go get th-that." He helps her stand up and she quickly shuffles towards the door. 

With Y/n out of the room the rest of the hybrids are staring at Namjoon. Most of them are trying to keep themselves from laughing while the others like Hoseok and Jungkook are laughing at him outright.

"J-Joon you might want to go f-fix yourself before..."Hoseok can't help but burst into another fit of laughter, hiding his face in the moose hybrids shoulder so Jungkook has to finish his sentence for him. 

"Before whoever's at the door sees that." Jungkook points down at his own pants when Namjoon looks down and closes his eyes in frustration. "Don't mention a damn word to Y/n got it? I have enough problems today, the last thing I need is for you assholes to make it worse than it already is." He rushes off to his room still wiping the sweat off his brow and doing his best to keep the ever growing nausea rising in his throat down, he wasn't going to ruin her party just because he didn't know what the fuck was going on with him. 

A few hours later Namjoon still hasn't come down from his bedroom and Y/n and Emily have already lost themselves and are so far gone it's hard to tell who to corral first. Her friend who likes to play with fire or Y/n who is currently going between the bonfire and the house on the back of Dove claiming, drinking and driving is how you get a ticket so why not save a cowboy ride a horse, right? Or was it the other way around?

Eventually Y/n finally sits down in one of the few lawn chairs, taking a hit off the blunt Emily passed to her when it hits her. "Where's Jooniebug? Haven't seen him since uh earlier." Her already red cheeks somehow turn an even darker shade when she vaguely mentions the incident from just a few hours ago to Emily.

Jungkook looks at Hoseok and they burst out in laughter at Y/n and her childish nickname for the wolf hybrid as Taehyung snaps a picture of her with Jungkook laughing in the background. 

She looks so beautiful next to the fire. The way her tattoos glow in the orange haze, the way her curvy body moves when she crosses her legs. The smoke she blew out of her pretty pink lips dances around her beautiful round face, to think he caught almost all of her beauty on camera. 

He didn't care to notice it before but everything about her is adorably sexy, even her small feet kicking in the air when she laughs at a joke her friend made is the cutest thing he's ever seen and don't get Taehyung started on her laugh. Oh how it was pure and unfiltered to his ears, he could listen to it every day for the rest of his life and die a very happy man.

"Tae?" Her addictively sweet southern accent and cute nickname for the tiger hybrid brings him out of his reverie, his eyes snapping back to meet hers and his tail standing ramrod stiff like he'd been caught doing something illegal. She's holding the blunt out offering it to him and he puts his hand up that's not holding the vintage camera and shakes his head. "No I don't smoke, sorry." 

Y/n in her cross faded state doesn't take no for an answer, she stands up and takes the camera from his hand, giving it to Emily who now stands next to her more drunk than high at the moment.

She kneels down onto the blanket Taehyung is sitting on and situates herself onto his lap straddling his hips making his ears down to his neck burn with the heat of a thousands suns and the ears on top of his head to flatten against his fluffy hair before she leans in close and explains her actions to him, laying her left hand on his shoulder delicately. 

"Since this is your first time this is what we're gonna- do okay- listen closely." She whispers the last part of her sentence in his ear and he nods his head yes, completely wiggin' out at how close she was. He could easily pull her in and kiss her lips raw but she obviously doesn't understand what she's doing to him right now. 

Y/n rubs his head between his ears roughly sending shivers down his spine and straight down to his cock shifting his legs underneath her, his large hands hovering just above her hips.

"Good boy, now- I'm going to hit this, and then as I'm breathing it out I need you to breath in okay?" Y/n even in her inebriated state, makes sure Taehyung is comfortable. He knew he could back out at any given time if he really didn't want to go through with this. "Y-yeah I-I-I got it."

Y/n smiles at him giggling like a schoolgirl before taking a large puff off the blunt in her hands. She passes it to Emily before she hands it over to Hoseok who takes a smaller puff.

Emily holds the camera up as Y/n holds Taehyung by the jaw to keep his head in place and leans in close their lips a literal breath apart. His hands clamp down onto her hips harshly a deep chuff erupting from his chest with his eyes shut.

She gasps when he places his hands on her, sending a small shiver down her spine when she feels his chest vibrate causing her to part her lips more closing her eyes. Blowing the smoke out as he breathes the weird tasting smoke into his lungs and the flash of the old camera goes off but both of them are too lost in the moment to really notice. 

Taehyung chuffs a little longer this time almost turning it into a deep growl as he squeezes her soft squishy body. Tightening his long fingers almost hard enough to leave bruises on her delicate hips when her lips ghost over his and before he knew it he had taken his first hit of weed in his life.

The fact it came from the one person he admires the most sitting on his lap holding him like a vice as if he was going to float aways any given moment. Getting him high? Now that was just the icing on the cake and all he needed was the strawberry on top. 

He was about to seal his fate with whatever god chose to play with him tonight until the rough clearing of someone's throat from across the way jerks him out of his reverie once again. He turns his head quickly causing Y/n to thump her forehead against his collar bone, unknowingly rubbing against his scent gland causing his ears to twitch haphazardly and his eyes to roll back a little. 

"You guys need a minute?" Emily asks as she snaps another picture of the pair of them together when Seokjin drunkenly chimes in. "Do that to me like, fuck." He takes a deep breath and sighs loudly, finishing his bloody mary that was completely full before standing up to throw the pre mix can into the fire. Making a b-line to the two sat on the ground, like a literal b-line. 

Seokjin wobbles and trips over a few holes in the dirt before he makes it to the plaid blanket. "Y/n, You should probably go check on Namjoon- he- he needs to talk to- to you." Seokjin speaks through hiccups and a gag as he tastes the tomato juice on his breath, shaking her slumped figure causing her chest to rumble.

Not quite like a purr or a growl like a hybrid would but even so it causes Seokjin to retract a little and Taehyung to pull on her to sit up right noticing her eyes are closed with a grimace ruining her once smiling cheeks into a frown. 

"Y/n-ie go on, I need to talk to Tae for a minute anyway." Seokjin nudges her by the shoulder, talking surprisingly crystal clear and she reluctantly gets off of the white tiger hybrid, wobbling and tripping like Seokjin had towards the house just over the hill but not before she yells back. "You owe me a drink when I get back Jinnie!" 

Back inside the house Y/n is still fumbling over her own clumsy feet trying to at the very least get up the stairs in one piece. "Ouch- fuck- who put that table there?" She grumbles rubbing her hip that was just assaulted by the table in the hallway a few doors down from Namjoons bedroom, his light is still on so that means one of two things. 

One, he was still awake, Y/n tries to think clearer as she makes her way down the hall hopefully there aren't anymore magic tables to get in her way before she reaches the door.

Number two, he forgot to turn the light off before completely crashing, which was odd for him because he always turned the light off after he was done reading or writing and before actually going to bed. 

Y/n's hand taps the doorknob, trying to grasp it, or at least see it in the dark hallway so she could grab it but instead she rests her head heavily against the door in frustration with a soft thud.

"Why am I like this? Oh yeah, nevermind. Namjoon!" She shouts dragging out the last part of his name thinking that should wake him up and she calls him again.

"Jooniebug! Joon- Joonie?" She calls him over and over again but she hears, what sounds like a grunt or a moan she didn't know, come through the underside of his bedroom door. Somewhat sobering up she knocks on his door and opens it just a sliver, poking her head through the crack. "Namjoon? Are you alright?" She asks timidly, slowly pushing herself through the doorway towards his bed. 

Namjoon lays in his bed, sweating so much part of the it is soaked with an outline of his body. His face is scrunched in what looks like pain, a lot of pain.

He's twisting and turning like he's trying to get away from something. Y/n slowly approaches his side, nearly sobering up this time as she puts her wrist on his forehead flinching away as his skin is boiling hot like the sun.

"Oh my gods, Namjoon you need to wake up we have to get to the hospital now! Oh fuck fuck fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner to check on you-" Y/n reaches for Namjoon's blanket that's been wrapped around his body haphazardly. Tangled with his long legs trying to get him up to go to the emergency room when her wrist is caught in a tight grip and she's yanked onto the bed. Namjoon hovers over her resting his large hands on either side of her head straddling her hips, successfully pinning her to the bed.

His eyes are glowing yellow, his chest vibrating with a deep snarl and his canine teeth bared like he was in danger meanwhile Y/n stares at him scared for her life.

"Namjoon it's me, Y/n." Her voice is trembling with fear yet she still reaches for the wolf hybrid looking him directly in his eyes. She gently caresses his cheek rubbing her thumb under his eye trying not to suffocate under his staggering body heat. 

Slowly his eyes soften, turning back to their calming brown color. He looks at her with wide misty eyes as he'd realized what he did. "Fuck, I'm sorry Y/n I didn't- I mean-"  Namjoons eyes screw shut as he grinds his teeth against one another, trying to hide his face from her.

He fights against his every instinct screaming at him to claim her, she's here right underneath him why won't he do it? "It's okay Joon, we need to take you to the hospital, you're burning up. I think you might have caught-"

"No, no I didn't catch anything- I mean- Fuck this is difficult-" Namjoon stumbles over his words because he's not too terribly coherent when he's with Y/n especially in this moment.

He has her pinned under his body and every time she squirms he bites back a moan caught in his throat. "I've never had this happen to me. I mean, for fuck sake I had to have Jimin explain it to me since he's a domestic hybrid." 

He moves off of her body to sit next to her trying figure out a way to explain the situation at hand. Y/n is still dazed and confused when a light bulb goes off in her head only now remembering what Emily said about scenting for hybrids; maybe this is what she was taking about when she said it hurt like a bitch.

"Joon, if you need to scent me you have to let me know. I understand I'm- not sober- like at all right now but, you can still come to me- if it's going to cause you to be in pain like this." Y/n sits up in the bed and moves closer to the wolf hybrid and Namjoon shifts a little so he can face her when a shockwave of pain hits his chest and his handsome face scrunches as he doubles over with a whine escaping his perfect lips.

"Namjoon! Shit." She  scrambles in front of him kneeling, she grabs his cheeks rubbing his cheekbones soothingly. "Hey you're going to be okay. Emily told me something about scenting earlier a-and it's something every hybrid needs to do with their owner. I mean I don't f-feel like your owner more like a friend but if that's something you really need for your health then go ahead." 

Namjoon lifts his head and their eyes meet, she's smiles brightly bringing him in for a hug when he stops her. "You're willing to let me mark your skin, just like that?" His face scrunches in agony, he rests his head on her shoulder with his hand clutched to his wet t-shirt as she holds him close.

Y/n wonders why he has to mark her, isn't it just scenting, like rubbing his head against her like he was doing right now? He didn't need to bite her surely not but she hates seeing him so miserable and her questions could wait until tomorrow anyways. Right now the wolf hybrid is her only priority. "Whatever you need to do okay?"

The wolf hybrid barely catches the words that spill from her pink lips as he to pulls her into his lap, wrapping his long arms around her waist, resting his large hands on the middle of her back.

Pulling her forward as she safely places her hands onto his shoulders for stability. He buries his face into her chest, catching a hint of coconut from her perfume infused with her familiar scent of leather and cedarwood which causes a deep-seated groan shoot from his chest up his throat and through his gritted teeth as he hums.

"You're aroma is so fucking intoxicating pup, I could get lost in it all fucking day." He purrs giving her chest cavity a few kisses that turn into him licking up her chest to her collarbone where he nips at her sensitive skin. 

Y/n's chest tightens as she sits on the wolf hybrids lap, not fully aware of just what she's agreed to but she lets him continue his assault on her neck when he latches on to the space just below her jaw and her hands move across his blazing skin to the nape of his neck softly pulling at his hair earning a moan from the hybrid underneath her. "Careful pup, I'm not responsible for my actions if you keep pulling on me like that." Namjoon snarls playfully as his hands continue to roam every curve of her astounding body, his iron grip will most likely leave bruises on her delicate skin. 

The wolf hybrid doesn't want to hurt her but his animal instincts are clouding his judgement, his eyes have blown out so much they look black if it wasn't for the tiny slivers of yellow Y/n would be a complete goner for sure.

Namjoon wraps his arms around her completely, silently wishing there was less clothing between them as he leaves bruises on every part of her visible skin along with open mouth kisses before one particularly rough bite meets her chest cavity and she quickly pulls his head back by his hair causing him to let out a growl at her. "Shouldn't have done that pretty girl." Namjoon forcefully pushes her back on the bed baring his teeth with a snarl, his hands on either side of her head resting his hips between her legs as he stares her down. 

"You have no idea what you do to me babygirl, I barely have any control over myself because of you. Wearing those sinful shorts, those tattoos of yours on full display. When you flick your hair behind you causing your intoxicating scent to fill my senses. Fuck, give me one good reason I shouldn't fuck you right now." He snarls as he dips his head into her neck once again littering her skin with more bruises absently grinding himself against her. A mental battle warring within him.

Y/n can hardly think straight, she's too busy thinking about the wolf hybrid and what he could do to her if she let him. The sheer possessiveness he has over her, maybe it was just the hormones talking or maybe the alcohol but damn she'd be a fool to accept anything less from someone like him or the other six, hell, she was just sitting on Taehyungs lap for fuck sake.

Even in her inebriated state she could feel the lust coming off of him in waves, just like now with Namjoon it was just as nerve racking maybe even more so now that he had her like putty in his hands hovering over her like he had no shame whatsoever.

"Use your words baby." He purrs hovering just above her, desire and lust evident in his tone licking and sucking at his chosen spot against her throat. Namjoon isn't very prideful on visible marks yet for some reason unknown to his coherent thought pattern he wanted, no needed everyone to see the many marks he's leaving on her fragile skin. She's staring at him her eyes heavily lidded whimpering as he speaks filthy words to her. "Everyone is still o-outside, need to get back s-soon." She stutters as Namjoon grasps her hips rather tightly with both of his hands, he noticed how she completely dodged his question but didn't think much of it, nudging her throat with his nose pausing for a moment before pulling her head back by her hair earning a moan from her soft pink lips. 

"Do you like it when I pull on you like that? Oh you are definitely my type of woman." She whimpers at him urging him to mark her when he pulls himself up to meet her eyes. "I'm going to mark you now sweetheart, are you ready?" Y/n nods her head as the wolf hybrid gives her a smirk before connecting his lips to hers, it's like fireworks go off in her head, pressing her lips against his with the same fervor, earning a moan of pleasure from the wolf pulling on her hair roughly, leaning back only to connect with her throat biting down hard, his canines piercing her skin causing Y/n to let out a yelp of pain but it's soon muffled by euphoria. 

Y/n feels as though she has ascended past cloud nine and she's up in the stars looking down at the world below. Namjoon is still locked on her throat sucking with a vice like grip on her body before he pulls back slightly, licking her wound as a drop of blood pools in the dip of her collar bone. "Let's get you cleaned up stay here." The wolf clambers off of the bed and into the hallway bathroom as Y/n lays there completely dazed and confused on what just happened to her. She can't think straight to save her life trying to grasp the concept of what scenting truly meant for hybrids, to think she had six more who hadn't even thought about it. She was in for a wild ride if this is how it was going to be every single fucking time.

Namjoon comes back with a warm towel and starts cleaning the blood that has now dried off of her skin before picking her up and putting her into the bed the correct way. "Take it easy pup, the hazy feeling will go away soon. Could take a few minutes to an hour though." She's thankful for him being informational because if he wasn't and she had to go through this six more times, granted she could just ask the others but she was thankful someone was telling her.

Maybe it was the initial stinging burn that started when he bit into the column of her throat or maybe it was the clouded high she felt afterwards that was causing her to currently see double. "I have to get back out there Jin owes me a drink." Namjoon rolls his eyes at her stubborn attitude and tries to get her to lay back down until she could think straight but she doesn't take sit the fuck down for an answer as she stumbles her way back outside with the wolf hybrid holding her hand being pulled outside. 

A/N: So what do we think about this chapter? I feel like it's all over the place honestly but that's a writers critique on their own stuff I guess.

+ Taehyung working on an old camera and taking pictures of Y/n? Ugh yes, the way he sees her through the lens is just- ugh I love it.

+ AND NAMJOON???? LIKE EXCUSE YOU SIR!!!! I even surprised myself with that one honestly. (It gets "worse")

+ Petition to see more Drunk and Brutally honest Seokjin, uh yes please?

+ Jimin is such a good pup he just wants to be good for Y/n it's making my heart so happy, his hybrid suits him I think.

+ Anyway I'd love to hear your thoughts on it too! I'll stop talking now.

[positivelyghastly]

I love getting my plant watering reminder after I’ve already watered my plants. I feel so productive and responsible (half of my plants are dying)

[lizziesangel]

RAFE CAMERON - that’s so true

x HIGH MAINTENANCE! KOOK !FEM!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: you're insecure about your relationship with rafe, when he gets closer with sofia

WORD COUNT: +5.2k

GENRE: ANGST to fluff

CONTENT WARNING: /

listen to 'that's so true' from gracie abrams for better experience <3.

‘i could go and read your mind

think about your dumb face all the time

living in your glass house, i’m outside, uh’

the late afternoon sun filtered through the wide windows of tannyhill’s living room, casting a golden glow on the sprawling estate. you sat cross-legged on the plush cream couch, scrolling through your phone with one hand while idly tugging at the hem of your baby pink knit sweater with the other. notifications of luxury sales popped up intermittently, but your heart wasn’t in it today. instead, your mind was somewhere else. more accurately, on someone else.

across the room, rafe cameron leaned casually against the kitchen island, deep in conversation with sofia. the sound of her laugh—the kind that wasn’t too loud, not too fake—floated over, making your stomach twist.

sofia wasn’t your idea of a kook, not the kind who frequented boutiques or spent hours curating their aesthetic. her laid-back charm was effortless, her simple jeans and oversized hoodie a stark contrast to the tailored mini-skirt you had on. she didn’t even wear jewelry. yet, here she was, drawing rafe in with that natural ease, her hair in a messy braid like she didn’t care, and maybe she didn’t.

you hated how it made you feel. jealous. small. stupid.

“she’s kind,” you had said casually a week ago, after introducing him to her at a party. “quiet and smart girl. we grew up together.”

kind. quiet. the opposite of you.

rafe laughed at something she said, his face lighting up with that rare, genuine smile that made your chest ache. he looked at sofia like she reminded him of simpler times, back when life wasn’t all country club politics and family business drama. you tried to shove the feeling down, but it clawed its way back up, leaving you restless.

were you too much? the bi-weekly nail appointments, the balayage touch-ups every few months, the shopping sprees that felt more like therapy—was that what made you wrong for rafe? you’d caught a glimpse of sofia’s chipped nail polish earlier, and it was the type of thing rafe would probably call “charming.”

the thought was a jagged knife, twisting in your gut.

“babe, you good?” rafe’s voice broke your spiraling thoughts.

you looked up, startled, realizing he was staring at you now, his brows furrowed in mild concern. sofia was gone—when had she left?—and it was just you and rafe in the quiet hum of the room.

“yeah,” you lied, pasting on a smile. “just tired.”

“you sure?” he came closer, towering over you with his familiar scent of cologne and something distinctly rafe. his rough hand brushed your knee, a touch that was meant to reassure but only made you feel more exposed.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “positive.”

he didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. you let yourself sink into him, resting your head against his shoulder. the warmth of his body should’ve been comforting, but all it did was remind you of how far away you felt.

outside, the sun was setting, its rays casting shadows through the glass windows. you thought about sofia, imagined her in her car with the windows down, humming along to the radio, not worrying about being enough for anyone. and then you thought about yourself—polished, perfect, but perpetually on the outside, peering into rafe’s world, a world where you never felt like you truly fit.

rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead. “you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“of course,” you whispered, even though it wasn’t true.

‘looking into big blue eyes

did it just to hurt me and make me cry

smiling through it all, yeah, that’s my life’

the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as you sat on the edge of the beach blanket, digging your manicured nails into the soft fabric. rafe and sofia were waist-deep in the ocean, laughing as the current pushed them around. she squealed when a wave hit her back, and rafe threw his head back in laughter, that easy, carefree laugh you loved so much.

but it wasn’t directed at you.

“you’re not going in?” sarah asked, plopping down next to you with her iced tea in hand. she stretched her legs out, glancing at you sideways.

“not really feeling it,” you replied, plastering on a smile as you smoothed the hem of your sundress. you didn’t trust yourself to look at the water again, not with how raw you were already feeling.

sofia’s voice cut through the air. “rafe! stop!” she shrieked, laughing as he splashed her with water. they looked like a scene out of some beachy rom-com—his strong frame towering over her, her golden-brown hair clinging to her neck as she playfully shoved him.

sarah gave you a look, one you didn’t need right now.

“what?” you asked, feigning confusion.

“don’t what me. you’re sitting here stewing when you should just talk to him.”

“there’s nothing to talk about,” you said quickly. too quickly.

sarah sighed. “you’ve been weird ever since sofia came back from europe. she’s your best friend. rafe’s your boyfriend. you need to chill.”

“yeah, i know that,” you snapped, guilt immediately twisting in your stomach. sarah wasn’t wrong, but the truth was too tangled for you to admit out loud.

you turned your head to steal another glance at them. sofia threw her head back in a laugh, her face turned toward the setting sun, water glistening off her skin like she was straight out of a magazine spread. and rafe, with his piercing blue eyes, couldn’t seem to look away from her.

your chest felt tight. you wanted to believe his gaze was harmless, that it was just the kind of attention sofia naturally drew wherever she went. but some dark, irrational part of you whispered that it wasn’t—that rafe was looking at sofia the way you wished he always looked at you.

they started heading back toward the beach, their laughter fading into the sound of the waves. you quickly fixed your expression, schooling it into something neutral, something practiced.

“hey!” sofia grinned as she plopped down next to you, wringing water out of her hair. “you missed out. the waves were amazing.”

“yeah, i just got my hair done,” you smiled lightly, ignoring the pang in your chest.

“your loss,” rafe said as he dropped beside you, his arm slinging around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you leaned into him, smiling like you always did. sofia leaned over to pull a drink out of the cooler, and your gaze flicked between her and rafe, catching a glimpse of his blue eyes lingering on her for just a second too long.

your heart sank. but you didn’t say anything.

instead, you smiled wider, locking it all away like you always did. this was your life, wasn’t it? loving rafe. loving sofia. watching them shine brighter than you ever could while you tried not to let the cracks show.

‘you’re an idiot, now i’m sure

now i’m positive, i should go and warn her’

the door to rafe’s room slammed shut behind you, the echo reverberating in your chest as you stood there, arms crossed, staring him down. the tension in the air was thick, neither of you willing to break the silence first.

it had started small, like these things always did. a casual question from rafe about why you’d been quiet lately, his concern laced with impatience when you deflected for the third time that day.

“you don’t even let me pay for anything anymore,” rafe said, his tone edged with irritation. “when was the last time you asked me to cover your nails, or your hair, or whatever? that’s what i’m here for.”

your stomach twisted, but you didn’t let it show. “i don’t need your money, rafe. i have my own.”

“that’s not the point,” he shot back, stepping closer. “it’s what i do. i’ve always done it. why are you shutting me out like this?”

“i’m not shutting you out,” you argued, your voice rising slightly. “i just don’t see why you have to make it a big deal every time i don’t ask you for something. maybe i don’t want to depend on you for every little thing.”

“that’s not what this is about, and you know it,” he said, his voice low, like he was trying to keep his temper in check. “you’ve been different, and now you’re acting like this is all on me?”

��i just don’t want to talk about it, okay?” you’d said, your voice sharper than you intended.

“that’s all you ever say now,” he shot back, raking a hand through his hair. “you’ve been acting weird for weeks, and i’m just supposed to ignore it?”

“i’m fine, rafe,” you insisted, even though you weren’t. not even close.

he let out a humorless laugh, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “you know, for someone who talks as much as you, you sure don’t know how to open up when it matters.”

the words stung, more than you wanted to admit. you hated how he could get under your skin so easily, how he could take your worst fear—being too much and not enough at the same time—and throw it in your face without even realizing it.

“i’m going out,” you said abruptly, grabbing your purse and heading for the door.

“of course you are,” he muttered, not stopping you.

now, walking briskly through the cool, air-conditioned expanse of the shopping center, you tried to push the fight out of your mind. Retail therapy had always been your escape, and today was no different. the rhythmic click of your heels on the polished floor, the weight of designer bags in your hand—it was comforting, a distraction.

you turned into a high-end boutique, your favorite. the scent of expensive leather and vanilla greeted you, and you lost yourself in the rows of clothes, running your fingers over silky fabrics and embroidered details. you could almost forget the tightness in your chest, the ache that rafe’s words had left behind.

almost.

and then you saw her. sofia.

she was standing by the display of bags near the entrance, her back to you. she looked effortless as always, her hair falling in soft waves, her casual outfit perfectly understated. she was laughing softly at something the sales associate had said, the kind of laugh that seemed to echo in your mind even when she wasn’t there.

your heart twisted.

you thought about the fight with rafe, about how you’d stormed out without looking back. you thought about sofia, about how easy it was for her to exist in the same spaces you had to fight to belong in. and for a fleeting, bitter moment, you wondered if rafe would’ve preferred having her there instead of you.

she hadn’t seen you yet. you could walk over, say hi, pretend everything was fine like you always did. or you could keep going, let the distance grow a little wider.

you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder and turned on your heel, walking past the boutique’s floor-length windows without sparing her a glance.

your phone buzzed in your hand as you entered a store. a text from rafe.

r :3

we need to talk when you get home.

your stomach churned, but you didn’t reply. not yet. you couldn’t face him, not like this. not when you were still reeling from the fight and the sight of sofia, from the gnawing feeling that you didn’t know who you were mad at anymore—sofia, rafe, or yourself.

another buzz.

r :3

i sent you $100. get something you want.

a bitter laugh escaped your lips. was this his way of apologizing, or trying to prove a point?

you slipped your phone into your purse, plastering on a smile for the cashier as you handed over your credit card. this was your life, wasn’t it? smiling through it all, even when you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up.

‘ooh, bet you’re thinking she’s so cool

kickin’ back on your couch, making eyes from across the room

wait, i think i’ve been there too, ooh’

the steady hum of the air conditioning was the only sound in your room as you sat at the edge of your bed, staring at your phone. the screen lit up with a new message from sofia.

s<3

hey, i was thinking we should all hang out at tannyhill tonight. you, me, sarah—just a chill night. what do you think?

you bit your lip, hesitating. it had been a long day of avoiding rafe and thinking about him and sofia, about their chemistry that felt so effortless. you and sofia had been best friends for years, but lately, every time she invited you to hang out, it felt like something was missing, like the space between you two had grown wider.

but still… you couldn't shake the feeling that if you went, you’d just be putting on a show, pretending everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t. you didn’t even know what to say to her anymore, let alone to sarah. the thought of sitting around with them, pretending to have a good time, when your mind kept drifting back to the fight with rafe—it felt exhausting.

you typed out a response, your fingers heavy on the keys.

not tonight. don't feel good. rain check?

you stared at the message for a long moment, the weight of it sinking in. rain check. you were avoiding them. you were avoiding everyone

you hit send.

the moment the message left your screen, you shoved your phone into the bedside drawer and laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. the silence was deafening, the emptiness of the room suffocating. you closed your eyes, but even in the dark, your mind couldn’t stop spinning.

you imagined rafe at tannyhill with sofia and sarah. maybe they were all hanging out by the pool, laughing at some stupid joke sofia made, her hand casually brushing against rafe’s as they both leaned in to listen to sarah’s gossip. maybe rafe had his arm around sofia’s shoulders, that easy smile of his lighting up his face.

maybe rafe didn’t even notice how he was looking at her. maybe sofia didn’t even know how much it bothered you. but in your mind, it didn’t matter. they were perfect for each other in a way that you didn’t think you could ever be.

a dull ache spread through your chest, and your mind kept playing out the scene—rafe leaning in, talking to sofia in that easy, intimate way that made you feel invisible, like you didn’t even exist in the same world.

the thought hit you hard, almost like a punch to the gut. you’d seen them before, seen that look in his eyes when he wasn’t thinking about it, when it was so effortless. you had been there too. you had been the one sitting on the outside, watching the two of them, wondering if it was just in your head or if rafe truly felt something for sofia.

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shake the images from your mind. but the more you tried to push them away, the clearer they became. you could almost hear the sound of their laughter echoing in the distance, and it felt like you were drowning in it, unable to catch your breath.

you didn’t know when it had become like this, when everything had started to feel like a competition you weren’t even aware you were part of.

you heard your phone buzz from inside the drawer, pulling you from your thoughts.

a from rafe.

r :3

where are you?

you stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the reply button. what could you even say? that you were imagining him and sofia at tannyhill, laughing without a care? that you were afraid of losing him to someone like her?

you didn’t reply. instead, you slid your phone back into the drawer, pulled the covers over your head, and tried to forget everything for a little while longer.

‘what’d she do to get you off? (uh-huh)

taking down her hair like, “Oh my God!”

taking off your shirt, i did that once, or twice, uh’

‘no, i know, i know, fuck off (off)

but i think i like her, she’s so fun

wait, i think i hate her, i’m not that evolved’

the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the beach as you sat down on the sand, the familiar saltwater breeze blowing through your hair. kiara plopped down beside you, her sneakers kicking up a cloud of sand as she settled in, her brow furrowed in that way she did when she knew something was off.

“okay, seriously, what’s going on with you and rafe?” she asked, her voice gentle but direct.

you sighed, dropping your gaze to the sand between your feet. “what do you mean?”

kiara’s eyes softened with concern. “i haven’t seen you two together in forever. and you’ve been off, too. something’s not right.”

you let out a breath, staring at the horizon. “i don’t know, Kie. it’s... complicated.”

kiara raised an eyebrow. “complicated? that’s the word you use after dating for what—how long? over two years now?”

“yeah, well, that’s the thing,” you muttered, biting your lip. “it’s just been—” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “i don’t know. lately, it feels like rafe doesn’t even notice me. like, i’m always there, but not really there, you know?”

kiara tilted her head, studying you with concern. “what do you mean, not really there? he’s not paying attention to you?”

oyu shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “no, it’s like... he’s distant. he’s always been this way with me, but recently, it feels like it’s worse. like he’s more into sofia, or just... not into me, i guess. we’ve been fighting a lot.”

kiara was quiet for a moment, looking out at the waves. “okay, so, this has to do with sofia, doesn’t it?”

you let out a dry laugh, your gaze falling to your hands, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “yeah. yeah, it does.”

kie glanced at you sharply, her eyes narrowing. “you’ve always been close with sofia, right? she’s your best friend.”

“i know,” you replied, almost too quickly. “i love sofia, so much. she’s my best friend. i should be happy for her, right? but—” you stopped yourself, the words forming before you could stop them. “but, something i think... i just hate her, too.”

kiara’s eyes softened, and she reached across the table, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“you’re not crazy for feeling this way. but don’t let it eat you alive. don’t let it destroy your relationship. if rafe’s the one, you need to talk to him about it. you need to tell him how you’re feeling, because keeping it all inside isn’t doing anyone any favors, especially not you.”

you took a shaky breath, feeling like there was more you needed to say, but didn’t have the words for. kiara was right, of course. you couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it was falling apart, but how could you explain the mess of emotions that tangled inside you? how could you put into words the way you felt about sofia—how much you loved her, and at the same time, how much you resented her for just being everything you weren’t?

“you’re right,” you finally muttered, still not fully convinced. “i just don’t know if i can handle it. what if i tell him and it just makes things worse?”

she gave you a knowing look. “you’ll never know until you try.”

you looked out over the horizon, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows over the ground. you didn’t have the answers, but one thing was clear: you couldn’t keep living in this limbo, hating the things you couldn’t change, and pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. you needed to figure it out, for your own sake.

“thanks, kie,” you whispered, leaning back in your chair, the weight of your emotions still heavy, but just a little bit lighter now that you’d said it out loud.

‘i’m sorry she’s missing it, sad, sad boy

not my business, but i had to warn ya’

‘ooh, bet you’re thinking she’s so cool

kickin’ back on your couch, making eyes from across the room

wait, i think i’ve been there too, ooh’

oh-ooh (ooh), you’ve got me thinking (got me) she’s so cool (ooh)

but i know what i know, and you’re just another dude

ooh, that’s so true, ooh’

you had barely finished talking with kiara when your phone buzzed again, pulling your attention back to the screen. it was sofia.

hey, i just wanted to check in. are you mad at me? i feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately…

you froze, your heart tightening. it had been a few days since you’d distanced yourself from her, but you hadn’t meant to make her feel that way. your fingers hovered over the screen, unsure of what to say. you didn’t want to hurt sofia, but you didn’t know how to explain the mess inside your head.

after a few moments, you typed out a response, trying to keep it as light as possible.

i’m not mad at you, sof. just been dealing with some stuff. it’s not about you.

you hit send, watching the little bubbles appear as she started typing. but just before her reply came through, another text popped up. rafe.

hey, i just want to clear something up. sofia’s crying in Sarah’s room. she’s upset about something you said.

your stomach churned. you quickly opened the message.

i don’t know what exactly, but you’re wrong about what you said. she hasn’t done anything to you, and i think you need to talk to her. this is getting out of hand.

you sat there, staring at the message, feeling a mixture of guilt and confusion. what did rafe mean by that? what had you said that upset sofia? your mind raced, trying to piece things together, but all you could think about was the way he’d worded it—like you were the one who was in the wrong, like your feelings didn’t matter.

the weight of the words hung in the air, pressing down on you as you tried to make sense of everything.

sofia’s upset? you thought, feeling a pang of guilt wash over you. it wasn’t your intention to hurt her, not at all. but you couldn’t deny the feelings of frustration and jealousy that had been building up. you had felt pushed to the side, like you were being replaced by someone who was just… so much easier, so much cooler than you ever seemed to be.

why does she get everything so effortlessly? you wondered bitterly, remembering the way she seemed to shine so naturally in rafe’s world, her presence so casual, so unaffected. it only made your insecurities grow, but now it felt like you were the one in the wrong.

the next message from sofia finally came through.

i just don’t want to lose you as a friend. if something’s going on, i want to talk about it.

your heart dropped as you read it. you could feel the sincerity in her words, but also the pain. you couldn’t stand the thought of her being upset, especially when it was your fault. you’d always loved sofia, but this weird, twisted feeling you had—of hating her and wanting to be like her at the same time—wasn’t something you had ever known how to deal with.

a deep breath.

you thought about rafe’s message. about how he’d said you were wrong. he was always so quick to take sofia’s side, so quick to defend her, like you were the one in the wrong, even when you were just… trying to figure everything out.

you typed slowly, your fingers reluctant, still caught in the confusion.

i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you upset. i guess i’ve just been feeling a little off lately. things with rafe aren’t exactly… great right now.

you paused, rereading the words before hitting send, feeling vulnerable in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

not even a minute later, rafe’s name appeared on your screen again. this time, the message was short and to the point.

you need to talk to her, y/n. you’re blowing this out of proportion. just let it go and fix this shit.

the sting of his words hit harder than you expected. you clenched your jaw, resisting the urge to reply with something sharp. it wasn’t that you wanted to push him away—it was that you had no idea how to make him understand how this all made you feel.

you were getting lost in the frustration, in the feeling that no one really saw you, no one really understood where you were coming from.

but you knew you had to do something.

i’ll talk to her, you replied, the words feeling hollow. you didn’t know what you could say that would make everything right, but you knew you had to try.

you sat back against your pillow, staring at the screen, your mind racing. you thought about rafe, about sofia, about everything.

but you couldn’t let that be the end of it. not yet. you had to try. you had to fix it.

‘made it out alive, but i think i lost it.

said that i was fine, said it from the coffin.

remember how i died when you started walkin’?

that’s my life, that’s my life.’

the air was thick with tension as you stood in the living room with sofia and rafe, both of them waiting for you to say something, anything, that would explain the silence that had been hanging between you all for the past few days.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you had been holding inside. “i just, need to talk,” you said, your voice quieter than you’d intended, but it was enough to make them both focus on you.

sofia was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, looking at you with a mix of confusion and concern. rafe was leaning against the wall, arms folded too, his usual laid-back demeanor slightly tense.

“i know i’ve been distant lately, and i’ve been avoiding both of you, but it’s because of how i’ve been feeling… and i need you both to know that this is about me, not you.”

sofia raised an eyebrow, glancing at rafe before turning back to you. “what do you mean?”

you took a deep breath, the words feeling heavy as you let them spill out. “i’ve been feeling... insecure. i know it’s stupid, but when i see the way you two get along, it just—it gets to me. you and rafe, you make everything look so easy. and i feel like i have to work so much harder, just to keep his attention, just to feel like I’m enough.”

there was a long, heavy pause. rafe finally spoke, his voice gentle, his expression softening. “you’re wrong, though. i’m with you because i want to be with you. sofia and i are friends, nothing more. but you're the one i want.” he stepped forward, looking at you with a sincerity you hadn’t seen in a while. “i shouldn’t have let you feel that way. i’m sorry.”

sofia looked at you with wide, understanding eyes, her lips turning into a soft smile. “look, n/n, it took me forever to even get to a point where i could be okay with hanging out with him. no offense to you, rafe, but i didn’t want to mess things up for you because i didn't like him. i didn’t want you to think i was trying to steal him away from you. i thought if i could just get along with him, that it would make you feel better .i did it for you, because i thought that’s what you needed.”

your eyes softened, and you took a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of the situation lifting just a little. “i didn’t know that,” you whispered. “i thought... i thought maybe you two were just, i don’t know, better together. you’re both so effortless, and i feel like i’m always trying too hard to be perfect.”

sofia’s face softened as she stood up, walking over to you and pulling you into a tight hug. “you don’t need to be perfect. you’re perfect just the way you are.” she pulled back slightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i don’t want you to ever think i’m a threat to you, okay? you’re my best friend, and nothing is going to change that.”

rafe, who had been watching quietly, took a deep breath, stepping forward to join you both. he reached out, pulling you into a hug as well, his voice low but sincere. “and i’m not going anywhere, babe. you’re the one for me. i’m not interested in anyone else, and i should’ve made that clearer before.”

oyu closed your eyes for a moment, feeling a rush of relief, a weight finally lifting off your shoulders. “i’m sorry, both of you,” you whispered. “i should’ve talked about this sooner instead of letting it fester.”

sofia laughed softly, wiping a tear from her cheek. “we’re good, okay? we’re all good now.”

you pulled back from her, still feeling the relief in your chest. “we’re good,” you echoed, smiling at her through your own tears.

there was a long moment of silence, and then rafe cleared his throat, awkwardly stepping back. “okay, okay, this is getting a little too emotional for me,” he said with a half-smile, trying to break the tension. “can we get back to the part where we all pretend we don’t have feelings?”

you both chuckled, wiping at your eyes and trying to stifle your laughter. you grinned at him. “aw, come on, don’t be so awkward about it. you’re so cute when you’re uncomfortable.”

“yeah, yeah, alright,” rafe muttered, looking between the two of you. “but seriously, if you two are done crying, y/n, i think you should get those nails done. they’re looking a little... tacky.” he smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

you rolled your eyes playfully, looking down at your nails. “i know, right? they’ve been a disaster for weeks.”

sofia laughed, nodding. “let’s go get your nails done. it’ll be a perfect excuse to hang out together, and you can stop obsessing over whatever weird thoughts you’ve been having.”

you turned to rafe, your smile growing wider. “you know what? you’re right. they’re awful.” you made a dramatic gesture at your nails. “i need a new look.”

rafe smirked, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “i’ll pay for it,” he said casually, glancing at the wall. “go on, get whatever you want. i don’t care.”

you stared at him in surprise. “really?”

he shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “yeah, why not? you deserve it. and i’ll do whatever makes you happy, okay?”

sofia looked at you, her grin widening. “see? even rafe knows you deserve a little treat.”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “alright, fine. let’s go. but only because i need a distraction from all the feelings today.”

the three of you made your way to the door, but before you stepped out, you turned to sofia, pulling her into another hug. “thank you,” you whispered. “for everything.”

she squeezed you tight. “always. now, let’s get you those nails, and then i want to hear about everything.”

as you all walked out the door together, rafe following behind you, you couldn’t help but feel lighter, like a weight had finally been lifted. things weren’t perfect, but they were real. and for the first time in a while, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

“alright, alright,” rafe said, his voice teasing as he slapped his hands together. “let’s get this nail thing over with. and don’t get any too crazy designs.”

you laughed, leaning into sofia as you all walked down the street.

“promise,” you said, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was exactly where it needed to be.

‘i’ll put up a fight, taking out my earrings

don’t you know the vibe?

don’t you know the feeling?

‘you should spend the night,

catch me on your ceiling

that’s your prize, that’s your prize’

‘oh-ooh (ooh), you’ve got me thinking (got me) she’s so cool

but i know what i know, and you’re just another dude,

ooh, that’s so true, ooh, ooh, uh’

[gutsby]

Who’s Your Daddy?

Pairing: Stepdad!Joel x Reader

Summary: You get stuck in the washing machine. Thankfully, your stepdad is around to help you out.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Deadbeat-Perv-Peepaw LOVES corny porn tropes and women over half his age. Stepcest & dubcon technically bc Reader’s locked inside an appliance, but she’s into it (getting fucked, not stuck). One (1) kick in the dick. Spanking. Brat-taming. Choking. Daddy issues. Size kink. Praise kink. Infidelity. Creampie.

Note: Saw this post by @ovaryacted and started BARKING. For my Old Man lovers/daddy issues crew, this one’s for you.

Word count: 8.3k

It was the closest thing to porn you’d ever done before.

Still, you weren’t quite ready to call it that.

And why should you? Financial straits were no anomaly to a girl your age, especially in this economy, and almost everyone you knew had a side gig of some kind. It just so happened that your job required slightly skimpier attire. And a webcam. And some very special…accessories that would likely send your grandmother into cardiac arrest if she ever took a peek inside your bottom dresser drawer.

Okay, it was definitely porn.

But you never showed your face, so it didn’t really count as the same kind of stuff that your family condemned.

You scampered out of your room the second you heard the front door to the house slam closed all the same. Arms laden with G-strings, stockings, satin bralettes, lace and tulle bodysuits of almost every style imaginable, you ran a quick, perilous path to the living room window and made sure to keep your head ducked low as you did. You peered out through the gap in the curtains and had to squint hard to see anything in the midafternoon sun.

Then you saw it and felt instant relief—they were leaving.

Your grandma for one, your mother for second, and wherever the latter was headed, you knew her shadow would be soon to follow. You saw a thick plume of smoke outside and surmised that Joel was somewhere around the other side of the SUV, smoking and droning on about how he was perfectly fi-i-i-ne to drive, don’t be like that.

By ‘like that’ he meant sensible. And by ‘perfectly fine’ he meant two Miller Lites shy of completely shitfaced. You could already imagine the wry smile on your mother’s lips as she tried prying the keys from his hands. Your stepdad would probably plant a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek to win a ‘yes’ in return—and when she shyly reminded him that he couldn’t afford to get another DUI, he’d get pissed and yank them out of her fist anyway.

Fucking loser.

Fucking triple-the-legal-limit dumbass motherfucker.

It didn’t bother you as much today because you knew they were only driving a couple blocks away to get to the farmer’s market, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t hope he’d get caught. Again. Maybe blow a 0.25 this time and land his old, ungrateful, law-breaking ass in Travis County Jail, where his little brother Tommy was likely keeping a cell bench warm for him, per usual.

At any rate, you didn’t have time to be fantasizing now. It was your turn to embody some guy’s grossest wet dreams for the next two to three hours. Stripping away layer after layer of your latest, tightest ‘costume’ while catering to whatever requests happened to float in your inbox, you knew you’d be up to your eyeballs in work. Though almost routine by now, you had to hurry up.

If you could just get the rest of this ridiculous gunk out of your clothing, you’d be all good to go for the job.

TRMAN22: Pour honey on your tits in the next vid???

TRMAN22: Milk too. All over you.

Looking back, you probably shouldn’t have obliged that request. Now you were facing the consequences—forced to throw all your clothes in the washing machine because the milk and honey you’d dumped on yourself for that video had gotten everywhere, and then swiftly congealed while wasting away in a pile of laundry for over a week.

The whole heap smelled rancid. Still felt sticky, too. Presently, you chucked each one inside the washing machine while holding your breath, and as soon as the last was discarded, you sniffed the shirt you had on.

Tolerable. With the rest of your stuff in the wash, you hoped to get at least one request off the checklist:

TRMAN22: Bet you’d look sexy in a schoolgirl outfit!!

TRMAN22: Why don’t you try one on for me?

It was gag-worthy and gross. Slightly alarming for a man who was more than likely twice your age and old enough to remember Watergate, but you agreed to play along. Your old school uniform was, after all, the only clean clothes you had left, and ‘TRMAN22’ was, unfortunately, your top subscriber. He’d paid $300 for this video alone.

TRMAN22: Wear some NEON pink panties for me too ;)

You squatted in front of the washing machine and stuck a hand inside. You sifted around, furrowing your brows.

The brightest undies you owned were in there, soiled, but you figured you could get away with one gross article of clothing, all things considered. You reached a little further and continued to dig. When you couldn’t find it by feel alone, you peered inside the circular, metallic cavern of the washing machine and craned your neck.

Not here…not here…not—

You tilted forward, venturing a closer look with your head, then shoulders, pushing into the machine.

—here, not here, not—

“EW!” you shrieked.

In your search, you’d inadvertently brushed up against a mildewed piece of clothing that had gotten wedged between the grooves of the washing machine’s interior.

A pair of boxers, it seemed.

You recoiled as soon as your fingers grazed the wet and smelly thing. Your skull went crack against the low-sloped ceiling of the appliance, and a jolt of pain was quick to course through you at the contact. You groaned.

Of course Joel had forgotten some old, cum-stained scrap of fabric out of his last load. Always leaving his shit around for you or your mom to pick up like he owned the place. And here you went, again, angrily plugging your nose and pulling as hard as you could on the shorts to get them free from the washing machine. You hardly thought twice, just made a face and then yanked on it.

The boxers wouldn’t budge.

You tugged even harder. The fabric stayed put.

Something akin to a grunt and a whimper, only far more pathetic, slipped out of your mouth, and you slapped the half-hollow steel wall in frustration. Surrounded as you were—fully encased in metal—the sound just echoed.

“Fucking…CUNT.”

You weren’t sure if you were talking to the shorts, the machine, or Joel Miller in the abstract. Or maybe all three. You just hated the thought of washing your lingerie with your stepdad’s skivvies, and no amount of rational thought or practical reasoning could hold you back now.

The tip of your index finger sank deep beneath the same ridge of the wall where the boxers had gotten stuck. You curled it inward, trying to loosen the material up a little. You wriggled your knuckle even further. And just when you managed to get a hold of the cusp of the tangled fabric—just when it seemed the green plaid cluster was about to give way—you heard a low pop. You felt it, too.

Shortly, your finger was pinched inside the deep, blunt valley of steel that had similarly snagged Joel’s boxers. It seemed you’d pushed the tip of your finger so far that you were caught straight down to the second knuckle—trapped between two grooves of unforgiving alloy inside the washing machine tub with no clear means of escape.

You jerked your arm back, panicked. When the metal sank its teeth even deeper, you didn’t stop. Completely heedless of the pain, you operated on impulse and by the feeling of needing to get the fuck out of that little space, quickly, and instead yanked your hand back even harder.

To your horror, your finger was stuck.

“FUCK!”

You stared down at the poor digit, only half-visible inside the wall at this point, then glanced down at the heap of sweaty, sticky, slutty pieces of clothing that were presently strewn about you, and felt an even deeper stab of dread. Stuck inside your family’s washing machine with every bit of damning evidence one could hope to have—and wearing your old school uniform to boot—you realized at once you were fucked if you didn’t get out.

You slammed your palm against the nearest wall once more, shaking your other wrist like an unruly child.

“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!”

You weren’t good at solving problems. In point of fact, you sucked at all things prudent resolution-related and regularly made it a habit to capitulate whenever you sensed loss inevitable. You were a little like your mother in that way, quick to give in to life’s uglier challenges. The only way you could conceivably claim to be stronger, the only place you always had the strength to say ‘no’ was—

“Aw, shit.”

—Joel.

Your throat tightened as soon as you heard the voice. Your eyes went wide, and the rest of you went numb.

Bent at the waist and kneeling with half your body inside the washing machine, you remained there, motionless. Back arched and ass out. Thanks to the way you’d rolled your old plaid skirt, the fabric covered almost zero cheek.

Someone behind you cleared their throat. Then coughed.

And coughed again, again, and again. Evidently trying to clear the smoke out of his lungs and the surprise from his eyes as he drank in your sight from the doorway.

“What in the—wh—th—” You could hear Joel wheeze, beating his chest with his fist, “What— in— the hell?!”

“Help me,” you hissed.

You weren’t sure why you chose that as your go-to. It just sounded like the right thing to say, and frankly, you weren’t sure how else to distract from the fact Joel was probably gawking at your ass as he coughed up a lung.

“The fuck do you mean ‘help’?! What are you doing?”

The coughing subsided, if only momentarily. You tried pulling back on your finger again to get out, but couldn’t.

“I-I’m…I was just…” you stammered, heart racing.

You heard the tread of heavy footfalls. You felt them.

“Just—trying…” you ventured again, suddenly at a loss for words and breath alike as you felt a presence draw in.

You could smell him.

That realization alone made you want to stop taking in air altogether. It happened out of instinct, really—feeling the shift of two huge boots settle behind your feet and then flinching inward, further inside the metal tub for…safety? A pang of abject humiliation? You were far past the point of civility with the man, caring what he thought, or fearing for your modesty in a position like this, but something about the proximity now just made you itch.

You wished your finger wasn’t jammed inside this appliance so you could give that feeling relief, somehow.

At length, Joel’s voice dragged you back:

“What’s stuck?”

Too calm. A second passed. Then he added, more stern,

“This some fuckin’ joke’a yours or somethin’?”

“No!”

“Then what—”

“My finger. My finger’s stuck.”

You tried to crane your neck to see behind you, but all your eyes had to feast upon was denim. Bluish-grey stonewashed denim, faded with years of use. Joel stood back for a second, as if considering what to do, and then you saw two hands descend to brace themselves against his knees. He bent at the waist to get a better look below.

When his eyes locked with yours, you got the same twist in your gut as you’d felt before, only sharper. Shameful.

The look on Joel’s face was abnormally bright.

“And how on earth did that happen, dumbass?”

Your shame morphed into chagrin in a blink, seeing the ghost of a smile bleed into your stepdad’s features.

“‘Cause of you, leaving your shit in here!” you snapped. Your chin jerked toward the green fabric, “I was just trying to get your boxers unstuck—and my finger…”

Your finger was kind of fucked.

Joel cast a look inside at the source of your frustration. He extended his left arm and reached over your torso, and as he did, you felt the slightest, albeit solid, sort of warmth press in. The man let out a low groan of exertion—likely at the strain the movements placed on his joints.

The warmth got worse. You weren’t sure where it started.

Vaguely, you were aware of Joel’s thumb pressing into your hand. Gliding down your finger, stroking across the spot where your knuckle had gotten caught, he circled over it, slowly, and made another sound in his throat.

“Well that ain’t…good.” Not one to mince words.

By now, your whole body was on fire. You barely had the strength to keep kneeling, much less speak to the man thumbing your hand and pressing his heat so close—

“Just get me out!” you shrieked.

You heard your mother’s voice in that. A shrill, impatient lilt in her speech that came out, invariably, around Joel. Normally, he would have done something to deserve it. But today, with his hand splayed over yours and his breaths as calm and even-keeled as he could hope to have them while he tried to help, he was blameless.

Evidently, he heard a trace of your mother too, because you heard him laugh. You felt the reverberations of his amusement travel up from his belly all the way to his lips.

“Cool your pits, kid.”

For that, you would’ve loved nothing more than to reach back with your free hand and hit him in the balls. But, as it was, this man was your only hope for escape, and he was being tolerably polite, anyway. He pinched your finger between the tips of two of his and gave it a tug.

“Okay, lemme just—” Joel started.

“Why are you home, anyway?”

The question came out more clipped than you meant it.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Joel countered evenly.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

You reckoned he could probably feel you roll your eyes, even if he wasn’t able to see you do it right now. He waited another moment, then leaned back on his haunches and withdrew his arm from the tub.

“Mama don’t like me drinkin’ and drivin’, you know that.”

With that, the warmth was gone. Joel retreated.

“Like that’s ever stopped you before.”

You heard him exhale a little harder through his nose. When he’d steadied himself against the washing machine, gave his knees another second to prepare for getting up again, you could feel his eyes back on you. Maybe he lingered longer than his legs really needed.

Maybe if he hadn’t stayed crouched like that, he wouldn’t have gotten the chance to give your surroundings a second look. He wouldn’t have stopped to watch the rate of your breaths pick up or the way your skin startle to bristle with some strange, unknown sensation. He certainly wouldn’t have felt for himself the fever leaking out from the base of your spine right then.

Today just wasn’t the day for keeping secrets, it seemed.

“And what’s this?” You could feel Joel lean back in.

He was looking again. Peering inside. Steadying his weight with the edge of the washing machine gripped in one hand, while the other snaked its way back inside.

You’d already squeezed your eyes shut by the time Joel got a hold of something. You didn’t know what it was.

But it became painfully clear that it wasn’t just one ‘thing’ that had grabbed his attention at all, but rather a series of items that his hands were just now getting to explore. You didn’t have to see his broad and tan, callus-streaked fingers to feel them roaming over your clothes.

Gross.

Gross.

“Gross,” Joel agreed, as if he’d read your mind. Grinning.

If you thought the embarrassment was bad before, you really only knew a fraction of what humiliation could be. Your finger throbbed along with the pulse in your skull.

Your mother’s husband whistled and lifted something.

“Darlin’, this is just…disgusting.”

You winced. You tried not to pry an eye open, to steal a covert look through the frame of your lashes in that dim and crowded spot, but the inducement was too great—Joel was dangling one of your lime green G-strings like it was a fish he’d just caught out on the lake. Boasting it.

Doting, almost.

“Well I’ll be—”

“Will you quit?!” you snapped.

You grabbed the thing out of his hand and threw it aside.

“Can you be serious? For one fucking secon—”

“Oh, I’m bein’ serious, sweetie,” Joel cut in. Cool as ever, “Serious as the business end of a .45, I swear.”

He paused. Then he reached for a white nylon bustier, drenched in a layer of honey that was as hard as a rock.

“Do you always keep your little…skank tanks so filthy?”

That was it. You kicked your heel back—and up—and made a pass to hit your stepdad square in the balls.

Your aim wasn’t the best it’s ever been, seeing that half your body was trapped inside a home appliance at the moment, but what your jab lacked in accuracy, it made up for in force: your foot plunged into the seam of Joel’s jeans full throttle. From the way the back of your heel plowed into his crotch, and the sound that clawed out of his throat the same instant, you reckoned you did okay.

What you weren’t expecting was a smack in return.

An answer in kind—delivered by the palm of Joel’s hand.

A taut, thoughtless THWACK on the swell of your ass.

Your mouth fell open. Your body barely had the chance to recoil when, shortly, another blow landed on your cheek.

Joel spanked you.

Spanked you.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he spat. His palm had slid up with the weight of his last slap, and now his fingers were clenched in a fist in the back of your skirt. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel him gripping fabric. It was firm.

He was firm—unrelenting in his hold.

Kneeling behind you, yanking back a handful of tartan skirt like it was nothing, then sidling up behind you.

And just when your attention was drawn to some other firm thing, it was shortly diverted by another sensation.

“JOEL!” you shrieked as he gave you another spanking.

The bare skin of your cheeks was on fire. Joel hit hard. Just when you feared you might legitimately whimper with the sting of that last blow, and while the imprint of his palm was still fresh, you felt it move again. Lower.

“Joel.”

That came out more like a whine than a cry of protest. And how could you, now, when he was soothing the raw bite of his hand with a touch that was kneading the skin?

Working the soft, supple flesh of your ass in his hand like he’d never dream of being anything else but gentle to it.

“Good?” Joel said.

Your head flinched to nod, but your brain thought better.

It did feel good. So good, in fact, that your eyelids were starting to droop just a bit and your back was subtly arching into the touch, but those were only instincts. Stupid, useless, brain-rotted reflexes born of years of paternal neglect and replete indifference, the likes of which could bring a grown man to his knees, begging—

“Please.”

But the entreaty was your own, and the voice that spoke it was hoarse. Your belly sank into the circular aperture of the washing machine, and you could feel your ribs scraping close to metal. Nevertheless, you didn’t mind. That ditzy lizard brain of yours was starved for physical touch, and who were you to deny her at a time like this?

No, not when Joel was squeezing like that.

Groping was the more appropriate word for it, really. Notwithstanding the decades of sexual experience that no doubt preceded the man that was standing before you—behind you—today, Joel was unduly coarse. His broad, weathered hand made as if to cool its former sting, but the motions themselves were jerky. Desperate.

He needed this worse than you, the fucking pervert.

Just when the realization had begun to settle over your mind and your legs were getting to feel a little less like jelly, knowing you weren’t the only weak one here, Joel’s palm slowed down. He pressed the heel of it into your flesh as if to force himself to stop, then he took a breath.

“Now use your words.”

“But—” you sputtered.

“I said,” Joel resumed, and you could sense it was through gritted teeth. His movements came to a halt.

“We use our words when we want somethin’, hear?”

It was the first you’d heard Joel attempt to enforce anything close to discipline with you in your life.

That had to warrant a little defiance, no doubt.

Under your breath, quiet: “So ‘we’ includes ‘you,’ too?”

Beneath that one, seemingly innocuous question was lurking another, and both of you knew it: Remember that time you put a fist through the kitchen wall? Was that a good example of what it means to ‘use words,’ Joel? Whether it was adequate provocation or not, you could sense what was coming next before you’d even finished. When the spank landed on your right cheek so loud that it echoed, you didn’t flinch. You did snag your lip between your teeth to keep a sound from spilling out.

“A dad makes rules. Ain’t his to follow,” Joel growled.

You blinked and bit down harder. Watched the broad, amorphous shape of the man’s reflection shift along the back metallic wall in hues of grey and blue and wished you had the strength to turn around and face him then.

“You aren’t my dad.”

“Said ‘a’ dad, didn’t I?”

“You’re not that either.”

Heat was rising to your cheeks again, this time for different reasons. For a cause you were far better acquainted with to date—annoyance at Joel.

“So that means I’m—”

“Nothing. You’re nothing to me,” you finished, tone wry.

Nothing to anyone, you wanted to add. Not with a shiny gold band latched onto your left hand to tell the world that you’re married to my mother, a pack of smokes tucked away in the jeans she washes every week, or a couple years spent under the same roof as me. Nothing.

Your teeth clamped back down—and almost sank clean through your lower lip this time—when next you felt a touch at the plush, covered mound that was normally shielded between your legs. The spot that was hardly ever tilted up in a position like this, exposed to the air and a man’s hungry gaze, now invaded by the press of a single thing: a warm and soft middle finger at your core.

Joel brushed the tip of it against your entrance, through your panties, and sucked a breath through his teeth when both of you felt a tiny squelch at the pressure.

He pressed harder, and the wetness only spread.

You didn’t have to be in Joel’s position to know what he was seeing, but the feeling from his finger overpowered any better sense to speak—or tell him to stop. He traced his slow, cruel circles against your warmth and moved it up to where he knew he’d find your bud, and when you whimpered, he simply added his index to the mix. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind you were leaking heat at that point. You could feel it seeping beneath his touch.

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel breathed, voice low. Your arousal made a sickening hiss beneath his fingers as he rubbed you even harder, “This feel like nothin’ to you, honey?”

You couldn’t speak. He knew you weren’t capable of it.

“‘Cause this sure don’t feel like nothin’ to me.”

Wet and tacky beneath his touch, your warmth supplied the answer that your mouth couldn’t form. It came out in more of a tap, tap, tap, punctuated by breaths that were toiling in earnest not to turn into moans too soon. But, as hulking and clumsy as his hands had once shown themselves to be, the old man knew where to put them, at least. He made circles on your clit with practiced ease.

“You can try lyin’ to me, but she can’t.”

He was right. ‘She’ was a traitor.

You could deny it all you wanted, but the proof was there.

Indeed, she was crying. Aching. Bleeding with desire. Throbbing beneath the pads of Joel’s fingertips and growing only more desperate as he increased the speed of his touch. When he notched the drenched cotton to the side, you had to grit your teeth to keep in a whimper.

Joel whistled.

“See? Seems like she likes me just fine right here.”

Your jaw stayed wired shut with the weight of your own humiliation. Instead of answering aloud, you hummed. Made a sound low and soft in your throat like, ‘Uh-hmm’ and tilted your hips, as if you didn’t know how else to ask. Joel couldn’t see inside the washing machine, but he must’ve felt the gesture, because he greeted it with a motion of his own: he chuckled, and he puckered his lips.

And when you felt the warmth of his spit hit you between your folds, your shame should’ve tripled. Should’ve made you flinch away from his touch and tell him that was so fucking gross, Joel, stop, but then he smeared it up your slit. He pressed in and mixed it with the rest of your arousal; any reproach died on your tongue in an instant.

A part of him was on you now. Trickling in, sticking to the most sensitive part of you, and settling into your skin like a glaze. With his other hand, he found your skirt again.

“Who’re ya wearin’ this for, sweet pea?” Joel murmured.

“No one.”

Another glob of spit landed between your cheeks. Now, the man used the lubrication to sink two fingers inside you—pushing them in until the rim of your cunt met his knuckles. You whined at the stretch, felt him coax your walls open with a consciousness and a carefulness that felt almost mean, but then he stroked down the base of your spine with the hand that still held onto your skirt. He soothed your startled cry with a curl of his fingers.

And he found the soft, spongy patch of flesh inside that made your eyes roll straight to the back of your skull, quickly. Working his fingers in and out, flattening the base of his free hand over the skin exposed by your flipped-up skirt, and watching your body give way to the force of his fingers, he was uncharacteristically patient. Exacting in the way he worked your body open to him.

“What do you care?” you groaned. You winced when you felt a squelch signal that he’d stretched you even wider.

“‘Cause,” Joel started, slow. Pumping his fingers through your folds and likely wondering when he’d add a third, “You got your hand stuck in a fuckin’ washing machine, a treasure trove of this slut stuff piled in a heap…I mean…”

“They’re just clothes!”

“Just clothes?”

In the wake of those terse, incredulous words, you tried your best to match his tone—call his bluff—but the only sound that came out of your mouth was punctured by a pitiful whine. He tried another finger but couldn’t fit it in. As wet as you were, and as strong as he was, your cunt wasn’t quite ready to accept all three of Joel’s thick, probing digits inside. You’d fit more than a thing or two with a girth even greater than that in the past, but you figured your nerves might have something to do with the way you were tightening around the man’s fingers now.

Why you couldn’t take more of him in, as much as you wanted him there, felt, at present, like something of a shortcoming, and a pathetic one at that. You let out a breath, and a second later, Joel slowed his motions.

You didn’t expect him to stop. Didn’t hold out a hope he might curtail his pace and talk you through a quiet, gentle arrangement for fitting a third finger inside you—that just wasn’t him. You didn’t have to share a paper-thin bedroom wall with your mother and her husband for the last however many years to know that Joel Miller was not a tender lover. It simply wasn’t in his nature to care.

So when you heard the clink of a belt coming undone a moment later, your senses strangely flooded with relief. He wouldn’t care, wouldn’t inquire, wouldn’t coddle with false, romantic ideals of how a woman should be treated.

In that way, Joel shared something in common with your father after all: he set standards as low as they could go.

“Just clothes?” he repeated, snapping your underwear against your ass and jerking the fabric further aside.

Then somehow send those expectations even lower.

There was a hand splayed out across the small of your back. Another fiddling with the front of his pants, wrestling the button and zip of his jeans in little more than one, two, three careless seconds, before he drew in closer to your rear. Your slit was messy, wet, and exposed to his eyes once again. For a second, you almost took comfort in the fact that your hand was still wedged inside a groove of steel and you couldn’t meet his gaze.

That was, until Joel slid his bare length along the seam of your cunt. When the inability to see him made it so you had no other choice but to be surprised when he finally touched you was unnerving, to say the least.

And when the head of his cock blended seamlessly between your folds, was drenched in less than a blink and nearly notched straight into the place you needed him most—well, that had an effect on him, too. Joel moved his flat and sweaty palm up your back, found purchase in the hem of your blouse, and gripped it. Tugged it down a little more and let a low groan billow out of his throat while he rocked his hips back and forth.

Desperate, clumsy, pussydrunk Joel was back before you’d even realized he’d left. Only now he was keen to put the disquiet and hesitations to rest; he needed to fuck you before either one of you wisened up just then.

Your parts and his commingled again. First, with the lethally warm trail of precum leaking out from his tip. Then the intrusion that followed, inevitably, glossed with self-indulgence and desperation—soiling any semblance of platonic affection or parental attention—as he fed you the first inch of him. Barely half the head got fitted inside and your grip on that was like a vice. Joel’s was bruising.

Suddenly firm on your hips, carving crescents in the skin:

“When’s the last time you got fucked, baby?”

You reckoned Joel had a guess—and it wasn’t correct.

“Last…week,” you whimpered, words punctuated with a sigh as his cock tried to make room for more of him.

Joel sucked in a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He’d barely gotten an inch past his tip, facing more resistance than he’d felt in a long, long time, and you were wet, but so tight. He was big but not so massive as that. He couldn’t fathom what you were saying was true.

“That…fratboy fuckstick you went out on a date with?”

“Didn’t think you even saw me leave.”

Joel withdrew, gripped your hips even tighter, then drove his cock to nestle three solid inches inside your cunt. It was extra snug, but he made sure to try to loosen you up with a couple short, shallow thrusts and a hand gradually drifting down between your legs. Of course he saw you.

The circles on your clit and slow-growing movements may as well have been kerosene in your veins. With what limited range of motion you had in that grey, compact space, you let out a sigh and dug the fingers of your free hand into the closest scrap of fabric beside you. Joel’s own touch gradually moved from your hip to drag your hand behind your back, clasping his. He fucked in deeper

“So that’s who this is for?” Thumbing your skirt.

“Y-Yeah,” you lied.

“Wanted to send naughty pics in the schoolgirl getup?”

“Yes,” you lied again. You closed your eyes when Joel sank his cock even deeper and made you stretch inside.

“‘Atta girl,” he praised.

It might’ve been the first he’d validated you in your life.

“Grippin’ this cock extra tight, ain’t ya, sweet girl?”

Never in a million years would you have imagined it’d come this late—or leave Joel’s mouth in a way like that.

‘Elastic’ wasn’t a word you’d ever used to describe your body, either. Frankly, there was no need for it to be; every one of your partners before had been average-sized, and every other object that went inside you, too, had almost always been a comfortable squeeze between your walls. Outside of maybe your first time and a once-off awkward hookup now and again, you were never forced to feel a stretch to this degree. Joel felt huge moving inside you.

He was nearing your cervix and still nowhere close to the base of his cock. Meanwhile, you were stuffed to the brim, saturated with arousal and his spit, and practically keening at every stab of his hips. You couldn’t reach back because Joel’s fingers were still enmeshed with yours, gripping them hard behind your back. As wore down, fucked out, and desperate as you already were, you were less than only a second away from asking him to ease up.

And then he stopped.

Joel pulled out, let go, and pressed onto the old washing machine, where you heard his touch echo through metal.

He was leaning against it. You were about to turn around. Before you could, though, you felt his form mold into yours—this time not in it, but on it, as he drew closer and once more reached into the space where you were stuck.

“Can you be brave for me, baby?” Joel murmured.

“Wh—” you started, soft, only to feel the words plucked straight from your lungs as Joel leaned his body inside. Carefully, and with concerted effort, it seemed, he was trying to squeeze his way into the O-shaped hole of the washing machine, snaking his arm around your torso.

Pinching your finger again. Breathing just gently enough for his exhales to tickle at your shoulders and your neck.

“Can you be brave?” he repeated, and you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him so soft-spoken, or felt him so close.

You nodded, not knowing why.

Without another word, your stepdad pinched the digit even tighter and yanked it out from where it was stuck.

It all happened so fast. Joel freeing your finger, squeezing it tight, helping you out of that hot and crowded space while your legs gave way like mush beneath your weight—and your hand throbbing in pain. You’d never thought a single finger could cause a feeling as strong as that, but it stung like hell. You almost raked your nails through the man’s arm when he tried to hold you back, holding you up just as well as you stood.

“Joel!” you screeched, like the whole thing was his fault.

You flexed your hand and wanted to sob. You could feel the streaks of pain start to claw up your wrist, were just about to shove Joel aside and wallow in agony, when at length, he did something strange and unexpected again.

This time, he lifted your index to his mouth and kissed it.

It wasn’t a sensual kiss. Coming from Joel, it hardly even seemed affectionate. His lips were so warm and firm and decidedly unacquainted with anything approaching a threat of tenderness that his act read almost aggressive. He let your finger rest loosely against his mouth, and he kissed it again, while his eyes burned holes into yours.

‘You’re okay’ came out muffled against your hand.

“You’re okay—hey—baby, you’re good. Don’t cry.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears had started to form. You blinked and felt one trickle down your cheek. With the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, Joel brushed his thumb against that lone trail of moisture. He didn’t cup your face, hold you close, or stroke your cheek in the seconds that followed, though he did keep kissing you.

Or, rather, it—your finger.

Joel didn’t have to care for you at all. He just feared he might’ve pulled on your hand too hard in getting you out.

‘You’re okay’ was being mumbled away like a fractured refrain, touch descending gently to your hip, and his eyes grew softer by the second, surely he had to be thinking it.

Sinking inside you, again. He was standing; your hips were tilted to his, and your ass was pressing flat against the front of the washing machine. All it took was an inch or two off the ground and your limbs hanging limply around his hips for Joel to fuck back into you. He sucked on your finger so hard you feared the skin might actually bruise—a hand hickey, of all fucking things—and when his grip tightened on your side, you knew he felt it too.

His teeth succeeded his lips in an instant, and he was biting, gnawing pathetically as a groan shuddered through his chest. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve said the sound was veering perilously close to a whimper.

Fully sheathed inside you, Joel Miller didn’t seem to care. His lids fell like lead across the upper half of his brown, glossy eyes, and the expression behind them was blank.

Safe.

“‘S’alright, baby,” he grunted. Maybe he’d just seen you wince, as he cradled your hand and withdrew another inch, “Keep squeezin’ me, it feels real good. Right here.”

Out of instinct, your gaze drifted down to the spot where his body joined with yours. The sight was hardly a shock, but the feelings it evoked were not—he had you split along two-thirds of his dick, a pretty shelf of belly protruding beneath and gleaming with the arousal he’d drawn out from your body. Tufts of silver and grey littered his skin in every direction, aged muscles tensed with the weight of each thrust, and the warm weathered hand that hadn’t dared touch you once before today was now cupping your chin. Tilting your head closer to him.

“Right here, baby. Look at daddy.”

Wild, unbridled heat flooded your brain in a second. The thing seared the insides of your skull with all the force of a fire and stole the air from your lungs just the same—still, you couldn’t refrain from making a face in disgust.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You shouldn’t have liked it.

His hand ascended your throat in a blink.

“Ain’t that what you want, sweet pea?”

“I—”

Just as you started to answer, though, his cock took a dizzying plunge, hitting exactly the right spot inside you. Like clockwork, your mouth fell open, a whine tumbled out, and Joel took that as his chance to grip your neck even tighter and push your hips against the washing machine, where his height afforded him an easy hold.

“What you want—”

He squeezed harder.

“—what you need—”

You gasped, starved for air. It wasn’t every day a man took your breath away. Not like Joel could, anyway.

“—is me, ain’t it?”

The gaze fixed on your face was alight with desire.

“Bet you miss him somethin’ awful, huh? Been needin’ a man to fill that spot ever since he left, haven’t ya, baby?”

‘He’ required no further clarification. The words stung. You communicated as much by wriggling your hips back and pressing your hand against Joel’s chest, just quit it.

Keep fucking me, but shut the fuck up about my father.

“I don’t miss shit,” you sniffed. Felt the head of Joel’s cock carve a shape somewhere deep inside your body and couldn’t pretend it wasn’t filling a metaphorical void someplace else. You hadn’t got this much attention from a man as many years your senior since…well, ever, really.

You preened beneath his touch. Wanting to feel. Wanting to please. Wanting, more than anything, to be needed.

Joel sated each craving with a simple hand smoothed over your face. His palm moved from your throat to your chin to the hinge of your jaw before coming to rest at the nape of your neck. This time squeezing lightly, bringing your face in close while he fucked you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and your stomach tightened inside you.

“That’s alright,” he said, words hardly above a whisper, “No need to miss that man at all, ‘cause I’m right here.”

For once the assurance came as somewhat of a comfort. You suspected it had something to do with the fact he was balls deep inside you and pushing you closer and closer to the brink of release with each painstaking stab of his cock. You fisted his flannel, holding him there. Spreading your legs, accepting his thrusts, taking each movement with ragged, shallow breaths and moans that blended with his own, you felt your body grow warmer.

Almost febrile beneath him as he tilted your head again.

“Who’s your daddy now?”

You winced, shaking your head. You hated that word.

“Who’s your daddy?”

Joel lowered his hand and began to thumb at your clit. Hot pleasure coursed through you, made you whine at the contact and dig your heels even deeper in his back.

“Who’s your daddy, baby? It ain’t that hard to say.”

But it was. Joel stroking your clit, stuffing you full, ghosting his lips against yours without ever furnishing a kiss, just goading you on with: ‘I know you wanna say it.’ Tough grey stubble teased your mouth with each word.

“I know she needs to cum, sweet girl. Know that poor little pussy’s taken a beating—and she’s done so good for me—but she needs to let it out now. All over me.”

His gaze held yours. You couldn’t turn away.

An unmistakable tenderness pervaded that look, and it didn’t seem keen to depart. No matter how tightly you pursed your lips, made fists in his shirt, or choked his cock between your walls in fluttering, desperate pleas, the man remained calm. Attentive. The eyes didn’t stray.

“It’s okay to say it.”

“C-Can’t—”

“Sure can. Be the easiest thing you ever do—D-A-D-D—”

“Please. Please.”

You hardly even knew what you were asking for at this point, only beholden to that big, swollen something in your tummy starting to give way beneath the push of Joel’s cock. Tightening up, leaking out, practically drooling down the length of this man who seemed relentless in his current pursuit. Two more circles on your clit and you were keening, whimpering pathetic as ever:

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

“Say it now. Who’s it for?”

Above you, Joel’s teeth gleamed in a smile—or a snarl, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was the pleasure, the concomitant pain of having to contain this desperation while his thrusts sped up. You were bouncing on him, getting fucked against the washing machine in the raw and terrible central Texas heat wearing a sheen of sweat and a set of clothes that no longer fit your body, but that was just fine. You were okay. Joel was here, and he was holding your head, lips hovering less than an inch away.

“Who’s. Your. Daddy?” His words were slow. Coarse. Spilling into your mouth with every short puff of breath.

You couldn’t take it. You felt a band of pressure come to a head in your belly and the brush of Joel’s cock making its rounds in and out of your swollen cunt, pushing hard, and you knew that you’d had enough. He knew it, too.

“Y-You.”

“Who?”

“Joel.”

“Who?”

Your wet, pearly slick rang a deafening pitch. Enough.

“You, daddy! Daddy—please, fuck—I-I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Gonna cum for me? Make a mess of your old man?”

“Make a m-mess— yes, daddy, yes—” you slurred.

Joel drove his cock, fully coated in you, down to the hilt. He captured your lips in a kiss and didn’t even mind your mouth was whining, hissing, whimpering its filthy pleas for him to fuck a nice, big orgasm out from your body.

“—want yours inside,” you added, without realizing it.

“Sweet girl…” Joel groaned.

You didn’t know what you were asking him for. How badly he wanted it, too. His cock dragged in and out of your precious cunt and was barely more safe from the threat of its grip when you spasmed, at the last. Joel should’ve expected no less, after all the time he’d spent teasing and edging, then begging you gently, in grunts, ‘Cum for daddy, baby. Let me have it, that’s it, good girl.’ Still, somehow, he wasn’t prepared in the slightest.

When you squeezed your eyes shut and kissed him back—that was all it took. When you clenched on his cock, gave the front of his shirt a tug, locked your ankles about his hips so you could more properly increase that friction by fucking him back, grinding in place, he feared he might fairly make an irreparable, unforgivable mistake.

And when the whites of your eyes appeared again—eyelids fluttering open while your lips were glossed with his spit and a lazy smile—and said what you said next, he sensed that his fate was sealed. The old man was fucked.

“Cum inside me, daddy. Please.”

Joel couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. He shuddered, then flooded your insides with rope after rope after rope of his spend, burying his face in your neck and taking your hips in his hands like a looser grip might lose you to him forever. He fucked his cum deep, deeper, darlin’ don’t move, can’t lose a drop, baby, please, he let out a whimper that made your walls pulse again. You felt him fill you to the brim and keep rutting his hips. Your body and his were shaking by the last of it.

And when he was finished, Joel dropped a kiss along your limp, glistening lips. He slid you back on the metal. By the expression on his face, it was plain to see he was loath to withdraw, but he had to. That tender little hiss and the sounds of your shared fluids trickling out were all the impetus he needed to act quick. As soon as he’d pulled out, Joel was back leaning against the washing machine—tilting your hips back a little, then lowering his sweaty, handsome head to the spot between your legs.

The wrinkles to the sides of his eyes grew more pronounced when he smiled. A happy grin, plastered across his lips, would have struck you as almost smug, were it not for the look of sheer adulation that followed it.

Joel was enthralled, watching his cum leak out of you. He kissed your thighs, flickered his gaze to your own, briefly, then damn near sank his nose inside the place he was watching before your fingers stopped him cold.

It was your body, after all. He had already had his fill.

Hardly knowing what came over you in that moment, you sank two fingers inside your wet, drooling hole and watched the eyes of the man beneath you go wide. He soaked in that sight completely: you pushing his cum back in, drawing it out, using the viscous white liquid as a lubricant of sorts before releasing a pleased little sigh.

Joel closed his mouth reluctantly. It took him more than a second to tear his eyes from that place, but when he did, the motions were quick to grow assured, by turns.

As if remembering something.

In a second, the innocent smile you’d seen before was being infiltrated, slowly, by a look you couldn’t place. Joel’s grin morphed from gentle to contented to plainly enthused and beaming ear-to-ear with a conceited glint. With his finger, he tugged your panties back into place.

“Baby—” he started, only to be cut off lightning-quick.

“What? What is it?”

His smile stretched even wider. By that act alone, you were half-tempted to forget the events of the last hour and set your jaw in a scowl. You looked down, unamused.

“What?”

“It’s just…” The man trailed off, and as he did, his gaze descended with it—straight down to your bare pantyline.

You cast a look there too—“What the fuck is it, Joel?!”

At that, two brown eyes flitted back up to you.

“I thought I asked for neon pink underwear, baby.”

Your breaths slowed. His gaze didn’t waver. Your heart came to a standstill in your chest, and you were amazed you had even half your present willpower then to speak.

“Wait, Joel, wh—”

“Shame you couldn’t get around to filmin’ today. Had me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that milk and honey stuff.”

You nearly choked on your spit. Joel kept grinning.

“You’re—”

The guy. That fucking subscriber. The one who’d paid almost $500 in commissions in the last month alone.

You stared at Joel with eyes as wide as saucers, and were about to press on, when you heard the front door to the house shriek back on its hinges. Two sets of footsteps followed it, and their entry inside was loud.

Immediately, Joel rose to his feet. It seemed that grin wasn’t meant to stay long on his lips, because the next thing you knew, he was dropping a kiss somewhere soft and sweaty on your face and flipping your skirt back into place, holding his index up to his lips and stepping away. Your mouth twisted into a frown but stayed zipped out of sheer necessity. Seeing this, and likely unable to help himself, your gross, depraved, grinning old man leaned back in and planted his hands on either side of your hips on the washing machine. His nose nudged into your own.

“Between us—” he began, slowly.

“Get fucked,” you finished for him.

Joel nodded his assent, smirk faint. He cast a look over his shoulder, and, hearing what sounded like your mother’s footsteps drawing closer, lowered his voice.

Rubbing his thumb under your chin, making you tip your head back to meet his for one final look—then a kiss:

“You keep my secret, I keep yours, alright?”

—

Note: I’ve never done a real writing challenge before, but hopefully this fic will work for #hotdilfsummerchallenge !!! @hellishjoel this is such a fun ass idea & i hope you enjoy❣️

[cherryspicest]

Silent Desires

BLACKPINK Rosé x Male Reader 13.6k words

It took quite a long time before I managed to finish this. Kinda struggled with the smut part since I'm not really used on writing one and it was my first time. Of course, still learning.

Was also kinda lazy to proofread it since I have no much time left to do it. PC monitor is broken as well.

The house perfectly matched what you imagined back in Indonesia: two stories painted in blue, and visible wood planks on walls. That one alone window on the second floor must be your bedroom. It had curtains so you thought it might be. Black water filled the canals below and it stretched up to four blocks from your right. It wasn’t smelly, but sure was dirty. 

The driver helped carry boxes containing your stuff from home, some were heavy and not, and those light ones were under your carry. When you asked him to place it at the front door, he refused and insisted on placing it inside the living room instead. He was taller than you, a visible look of a state man on his face. Usually they’d wear red caps during work like what TV shows would portray. 

Amid work, you saw the neighbor on your right took out a black garbage plastic that was twice the size of her width, and she struggled to carry it inside the garbage can. She was slender, had her hair dyed whitish purple, and a hint of Asian in her eyes. She wore a white top with thin black sleeves covering her arms, and denim shorts that exposed her pretty legs. They were mesmerizing. But you didn’t want to look like a creep either. Seeing her glance at you, you waved your hands. Hoping for atleast a smile or a wave back, you didn’t get one. She chose to ignore your greeting as she headed back to her house. Maybe she was blind or her eyes were blurred, so you didn’t take that bad too much. But the feeling of rejection still hits you like a train. 

When all boxes were brought inside, the driver returned to his van and waved goodbye before pulling off. Took hours before every item from each box was pulled out, fixed in places and corners. Most furniture was made in tarnished wood. They were elegant.

The sun had started to set, you could see it by the orange clouds and vibrant violet skies outside your window. It was your first sunset in Canada and you loved the scenery. They seemed like perfect wallpapers you'd see on the Internet. 

You stepped outside for fresh air and saw the girl at the right house once again. She sat on the doorway stairs, shading below the black roof. She must’ve not seen your greeting awhile ago, it must’ve been an unintentional ignore. You were shy, everyone would do, but in fear of being a loner you chose to overcome it.

A grass field separates your houses, but only a few steps, like thirty or thirty five steps from yours. She kept her composure and watched your presence coming to her property, a toothpick in her mouth. Her eyes behind those specs remained unwelcoming and a lingering bitchiness within. 

“Hey there um. . . I’m your new neighbor by the way on your left so I guess it wouldn’t be bad if I introduce myself to you aye?” You began, keeping your tone calm and friendly. Behind you were nervous and shy.

She played with the toothpick with her tongue, moving it from the left to right corner of her mouth. Her eyes gazed into yours and there was silence for seconds. When you tried to talk again, she interrupted you.

“Too bad for you I don’t talk to strangers” She answered with an Australian accent, so she must be an Aussie.

“I mean like at least-“

“I don’t . . . Talk to strangers.” She stood up. She was slightly smaller than you, but she had the height. Walking slowly towards you, you began to step back. “Do I have to repeat it again to you Mister? I don’t have time for these corny things. If you’re a new bird here, keep it that way as long as you don’t bother me.”

“Alright chill” You raised both palms. “I’m sorry for disturbing you Ma’am.”

You began to walk away while she kept her eyes at you, standing firmly, watching you disappear on her property. You must’ve been so lucky to stumble upon a kind of person on your first day. They said Canadians are welcoming and appreciative, but it seemed it was all a scam. 

It was a slight struggle to forget that interaction, but soon you’ve moved on. Days continued with cleaning and adjusting to the new surroundings. The town near the village had good amenities and stores to buy goods from, and you realized the currency seemed low, then you also remembered it’s pricey when converted into your currency.

 Each day you’d walk past her house, you can’t resist looking for her presence. She was pretty, everyone would agree, some might not, but in your eyes she was, though her attitude said otherwise. 

Days continued with no interaction with the neighborhood. A day later it was time for the first day of class. You jumbled through your closet, finding your best outfit. You wore a simple black oversized T-shirt and cargo pants, like your usual outfit when going out on malls with your parents. But it was a weird feeling to wear civilian clothes on normal days of school. In your country they’d require you to wear a uniform in some cases.

The university looked like an old British house. The walls were made in bricks, and pillars were carved in vertical strips, colored in white gloss paint, that held up much of the entrance shade. Students walk past you. They were tall; it was expected.

The first subject was Science, and it took minutes before you could’ve reached your classroom. You had to ask some professors for the room direction, told you to walk 2 floors above, then turn right, saying you’d see a cone bush at the front of the door; which was on the corner near it. As you entered the classroom, you sat on the seat near the window, third row from the blackboard. Shelves stood at the back most of the classroom. Frames of old looking people hanging on the side walls with their names below of their faces. ‘Jonathan’ if you had read some of their names correctly.

It all started with introductions and knowing each other. Some were old students so they had formed a bond already. Learning you were from Asia, they seemed surprised. When you returned to your seat, someone had already sat beside you. His name was James when you asked. He was friendly, his vibe was cool enough to make you feel comfortable to talk. 

During break, he had opened up most of the happenings around the school, and some students you need to avoid stumbling into. Sounded like a cliche school scenario, but it’s the states. Three women walked over the corridor, catching most of the students eyes around the area, even the both of you.

“Who are those? They look Asian.”

“Like you, yes” James continued. “That’s Lisa, Jisoo, and Jennie. One of the popular girls around the campus, obviously. All of them were sophomores.” 

“So they are Asian?”

“I just said it a second ago.” He glanced at you. “There used to be four, until that issue happened. She goddamn disappeared like a rat from a cat.” 

“You know what happened?”

“I don’t know man, I ain’t touching other’s shit. But I’ll tell you, she’s hella pretty. That Australian ‘yaur’ and ‘wotah’ would make you impressed if you’ve only reached that time when she was here.” 

Once they disappeared on your sights, you both continued your way back to the classroom. 

You thought everything seemed to flow smoothly, until you met this group of boys who had entered the classroom late. They didn’t approach nor face you, but the way they gave you those eyes was enough for you to understand; not friendly. You didn’t mind and pretended they didn’t exist.  Few hours had passed, Monday class had come to an end, and you and your friend had separate ways at the intersection near the school.

On you walk home, you saw the neighbor girl once again. The sun had set down, but it was not hard to familiarize her face on the dim. She sat on the same spot, a toothpick in her mouth, and wore her thin framed specs. You wanted to ignore her presence but she’s just too attractive to resist, and when she caught your eyes, trying to land a quick glance at her, you just bowed. 

As usual, you received nothing but eyes and silence. 

Back in your house you finished the first assignments of the day, it was History and Science, so it took much time despite its simple instructions. You heard voices outside your window. You were confused. The moon had shone brightly between dark clouds, and it’s eleven in the night. You peeked over your window and saw a SUV parked in front of your neighbor’s house, its headlights lit. Three women stood and one of them rushed your cold neighbor into a hug. They wore fancy clothes, like in a club or party. 

You watched closely and realized they were the same girls you’ve seen back in the corridor. And when they all stepped inside, you finally pulled away. You remembered what James said, the girl who had left their circle and decided to not go to school anymore, and maybe she was that woman who chose to rot in her house instead. Maybe yes, maybe not. Questions lingered in your mind as you packed up your things for tomorrow, then later you found yourself sleeping in your bed. 

Tomorrow was the same usual day, but things went sideways when the arrogant looking boy group came to approach you while you scrolled through your phone on your seat. 

“Hey man, heard you’re the new rice eater around the campus again huh?” He grinned, his tone sarcastic. “So, how tho?”

“What how?” 

“I mean . . . How you get into this school? I don’t remember that it’s easy for people like you to attend  here.”

“Ah? By having a brain, I guess?”

He chuckles and looks back at his friends; who were grinning along with him. You reminded yourself to stay low and humble. You wanted to be known on campus, like a popular one, just like how you were known as the “Friendly guy” in your old school. And once you made a big mistake with these morons, it'd put you into a crumpled outcast inside the university. 

“Alright, they like your answer rice boy, but I don’t. ” He scoffs, giving light nods. “Here, if you’re trying to act cool and shit here, it won’t work. So don’t start something that people would  hate you for. I’m just reminding you boss, not threatening you. As long as you play with the system around here, you’re fine, aye?”

You nodded slowly, though deep inside you’re annoyed; you hated getting into a situation like this. You felt like getting controlled or so what, and for the sake of your positive look from the other people you just agreed to his terms. 

James accompanied you most of the school hours. The Math professor was absent today, so you found yourselves sitting on the bench outside, in the park.

“So you met Deandre?” He opened up

“Yeah, he’s the bully in the classroom right?”

“Sort of. Like man, that dude came from a wealthy family so of course his attitude would be obviously like that. You remembered what you saw yesterday?”

“The girls?”

“Yeah those fine ladies, he dated one of them. I don’t remember who, but he did. So yeah, he became more known to the campus until his ego just went” He mimicked a plane with his hand and raised it upwards, making a swooshing sound.

“Well about the girls, you told me that the woman who left was ‘Aussie’ right?” You remembered last night’s event. Jisoo, Jennie and Lisa, they were three, but still unsure. They had given the vibe. 

“I guess? She had the accent, so yes. Why?”

“Well I have this neighbor who speaks with that accent as well. She looks cute, and tall. You know these cute girls with specs.”

James scoff, shaking his head. “Nah man, I doubt it’d be Rose. She had left Canada already and maybe returned to her hometown.”

“Yeah, maybe I’m just assuming too much.” 

So days continued like this. James has been by your side most of the time, and you met some new friends along the classroom. Clifton, Julia, and Tyrone, that’s where their names are. They were old students who began here three years ago. They had formed bonds already, knowing each other before you could have, but you didn’t mind. Every new bird starts with this. 

Yet there were the morons who never stopped bothering you. During breaks, when you’re alone, they’d come and ask for some extra lunch or snack. It’s not a sort of bullying way where they’d punch you suddenly, but more like they’d threaten you when you don’t contribute; telling you they’d frame you up for stealing someone’s snack from their bag. James couldn’t do anything as well, as much as he wanted to help, he knew what this group of dick heads could do if you’d go against them. 

Remembering their words, just go with the flow. You’re not some sort of a main character where punching them would turn you into a superstar

As usual, there were no changes with your interactions with the cute neighbor. Every time you’d walk past her house, sometimes you’d see her outside on the usual spot she’d sit in. Exchanging glances on each other, you were used to it, and every day that passed by, having the same usual empty interaction, you began to feel tired of chasing your wanted friendship until you start ignoring her. 

One night you walked home late. You stayed in the library for a long time without realizing it. You also didn’t want to skip a gym session, so you worked out around seven in the night, then finished by nine already

You saw her at the front of her property talking to two guys, one stood behind her. They had bandanas around their forehead. They wore baggy denim shorts and some sleeves that had pockets on the chest part, where one pulled a cigarette box out from it. You walked slowly to watch the scenario, it’s strange to see her talk to someone else anyways. 

The guy behind grabbed her arm forcefully and she tried to resist but was not deemed enough to match a moron’s strength.  The man on the front lit the cigarette in his mouth, a hint of glow in the stick, and right as he came closer he blew smoke at her face. You kept your composure and thought she must owe them something, but then the discomfort in her eyes, pleading for help, left you no choice but to save her. 

“Yo leave the girl alone.” You said as you approached, your tone calm. A hint of frustration when they looked at you in unison, despite your neighbor’s arrogant attitude, you felt the sense of needing help in her eyes. 

“Who are you, punk?” The white man with the cigarette answered as he faced you, taking another in his cigarette. “Never seen your face around here yet?” 

“You don’t need to know who I Am bro, just leave her alone.” 

“And what will happen if I don’t?” He slowly clenched his fist, you noticed it. And as he slowly took a step forward, you reached out to your pocket and pulled out the butterfly knife you loved playing with. Their courageous eyes turned hesitant when they noticed, and as you spun and free styled the blade he took a step backwards. 

You took a step forward, and they flinched when you feinted them. Just a bunch of dick-heads they were, acting strong but lacking action. 

“You’re lucky, woman” The guy who held her arm said as they left the both of you, running across the empty street.

You watched them disappear from the darkness. Your neighbor slowly looked at you. Hoping for some kind thanks or appreciation for saving her life, well you didn’t get it, again. 

“I can handle myself, why do you have to butt in.” She hissed and walked back to her house.

“What’s your problem?” You raised your voice. “Thanking is the least thing you can do, why do you have to be this shit ass?” 

She ignored your words, shut the door closed, and the lights from her door disappeared. Guess helping her was not the right move to earn her trust. Since the start she was this toxic, she never changed, and to think she’s just alone in this house without anyone visiting her but her friends completely gives the reason. You’re tired of chasing her. She’s not worth it anyways. It’s better to be independent than to chase some person who doesn't give a single shit at you. 

In your bedroom, you were about to sleep. Move your circular pillow and unroll the blanket wide. You were still bothered by the past hour scenario and worried they might come back, so you took a quick peek at her house from your curtains. It’s just that you’re worried about some bad things that may happen during the night and who else could know what those assholes have been running in their minds right now. 

When you saw the lights from her bedroom shut, you finally laid back and slept the night away. 

The next day at the school, a seminar was held at the gymnasium where most students were required to be at the place. Chattering and noises filled the whole gymnasium. You and your new group of friends sat together at the upper box, third row, enough to see the announcer deliver his words from the court floor.

You saw the three ladies once again sitting in the same row as yours. The morons were there as well, staying by their side, one guy carried the short hair’s bag. Were they some sort of servants? No they were not when you saw the guy who threatened you rest his arm around the cat shaped eye girl’s seat. She was fine with it, smiling at him despite the corniest move a guy would do. 

Then you met them later again in the corridor as you stepped out from the male’s comfort room. The girls were with them, stood by their side and one behind. Your eyes met Deandre’s, it was full of wickedness, and a smirk forming in his lips. 

“Yo rice boy, what’s good? Can help me out for some slight extra money? You know it would be bad if I’m left hungry for the day.” He began. “Just a little you know? I mean not that I have no money, but at least . . . An extra?”

“Sorry bro, I can’t help you with that.” You forced a smile and began to walk out. Then he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, making you stop. 

“Come on bro” He softened his voice that only you could hear. “Remember what I said back then? I bet you wouldn’t like the consequences when you don’t provide something, right?”

And there you are, stupid enough to give half of your brought money in your wallet. Following the system, the same thing that runs in your mind over and over again for the sake of your dream popularity. Nice guy in a jean jacket, that’s what you wanted. Their eyes locked on you while you walked out, keeping your friendly vibe despite the anger boiling inside you. 

Days turned into weeks, and you received the same usual treatment from them all over and over again. You just seemed to be these morons play toy. Every time you’d walk back home, it’s always frustration that you’d bring, that you just wanted to beat them until they begged crying on the floor. If it weren’t for your scholarship that required you to behave and act like a chained goat around crocodiles, then you would have shown those morons what they deserved.

As well, you continued to ignore your ‘appreciating’ attitude neighbor. Between those days, you were used to it, and then you felt it’s something normal you’d do. Until one day, while walking back home, she approached you with crossed arms in the middle of the street. The sun had started to set down on the thick, dark clouds like it’s clinging on its own. She wore a simple black shirt and denim shorts.

She pulled out a few money bills from her pocket and reached it at you. “Here.”

“For what? ”

“For saving me last week.” 

“No need, thank you anyway.” You began to walk.

“I’m just returning what I owe you.” She continued, and you paused. 

“I don’t look like money, Miss. I just did what a normal person would do—help somebody who’s in distress. I didn’t do that to impress and such. Just take your money.”

“Every Monday, you’d walk past my house between five and six in the afternoon. Then, all of a sudden, you appeared nowhere on the street at nine? ”

“And you’re assuming I'm stalking you? ” 

“I didn’t say anything, boy?” 

You groaned. “You know what? A simple thank you will end this conversation instead. Besides, I won’t even have a conversation with someone like you anyway.”  

“Hm? Thank you, my neighbor superhero; that’s what you want to hear, right? ”She forced a smile, narrowing her eyes. “Plus, why do you even want to be friends with me in the first place? You boys are just the same. Tell me you’d be friends with me, then I get comfortable with you, let you inside my house, and then we wait to invite each other to fuck in each other’s mouths in my bedroom. That’s your plan, isn't it? ”

You scoffed. “This woman is ridiculous.”

“Don’t act blurry, Y/N. You guys have the same minds when it comes to meeting girls.” She tilts her head, keeping her gaze. Though she’s pretty and her pair of alluringly slender legs, it never came to your mind to fuck her somewhere else around.

“Alright, you're generalizing too much. Look Miss, I just want to be friendly to the people around me. You’re my neighbor ma’am. The lot on my left is empty, and you’re the only person I could talk to around this place. Isn’t that hard to understand?” You answered. “And, did you just call me by my name?”

She kept her composure, not even saying a single word. 

“See, I must be right, you are friends with the famous girls in the university. That night, I saw three girls visit you in your house. There are three as well in the school: Lisa, Jennie, Jisoo, and you’re probably the Rose that James was talking about.” 

“So what?”

“So what? It means that you’re just one of them. A bunch of assholes that make fun of students not popular as you all do, and abuse their souls out just because they don’t fight back.”

“Oh, I’m an asshole now?” She took a step forward and landed a push on your chest. “Talk shit at me if you don’t put your ass down when Deandre is around you.”

“I ain’t a coward around him, don’t you dare call me that.” You pointed at her.

“Then what do you call yourself then?”

“I’m doing it on purpose. I just want . . . “ You cut yourself off. Opening up your dream of being a popular boy in the university will just ruin your image more at her. “I’m doing it for my scholarship. You think I’d still be here if I punched him in the ground?”

“A scholar?’ She scoffed and glanced around her surroundings. “Poor for you, you have to endure that. So don’t cry on me that you’re experiencing those. You chose this University, face the consequences then.”

She might sound aggressive, but some of her words were right. Her last phrase ‘ you chose this university and face the consequence ‘ hit you. You wanted to experience life in the west because you saw how most of your relatives seemed to enjoy their lives here. Luxurious sedans, modern houses, that’s what you saw most in their pictures. Then you wished to apply your school experience here from your hometown thinking it’d just be the same. 

You had mixed feelings with your encounter with Rose; disappointment and excitement. She was fierce and straightforward. Up close, you wouldn’t expect such an attitude from her gorgeous visuals. You wondered if she had a boyfriend, or probably no one would even wonder with her arrogant attitude. 

She was annoyingly attractive. 

The next day, it was Saturday, so you had no classes. You finished all your assignments right away before so you wouldn’t worry about chasing papers to your professors. You went for a jog around the village, no streets were missed to walk into. Most houses were colored assorted but had the same design as yours and Rose’s. 

Finishing your lap, you walk past Rose’s house and see her garage door lifted open. It wasn’t hard to see her in the dim, and when you got close, just under the garage door, you saw her fixing a vehicle’s engine. The car was purple, you could tell beneath those dusts, and looked like a mustang built from 80’s

Black stains marked her arms and gray shirt. She wore baggy pants and a cap, her pony tail squeezed between the cap’s closure. She noticed your shadow from the floor and quickly looked back with her wrench pointed at you.

“What are you doing?” She asked in a warning tone. There was visible tiredness within her eyes. 

“Are you trying to fix your alternator?”

“Why do you care?”

“Maybe I can lend some hand for you, I missed doing mechanical work, especially with cars and stuff.” You leaned against the wall, crossing your arms.

“I don’t need.” She turned back and continued her hands on the engine. You just watched her, she said no and you wouldn’t want to be an annoying fly that would force yourself into her. 

Several seconds later, there was a spark and she squealed, pulling her arms away quickly and moving from a distance. Her eyes slowly looked at you, her face fresh from shock. 

“You just made the scenario worse.” You stepped in and took a look at her engine, where you noticed a red wire with little smoke in it. “Worse thing is, you’re trying to check every wire in here when this red wire has visible tears on it.”

“What are you saying?” She gave you a look as if you’re saying bullshit, still standing at the same spot.

“Your alternator is shorted. So you might need to get yourself a new wire for this.”

She slowly took her steps closer and stood beside you, picking the red wire where the smoke had fully disappeared. She watched it close, then her eyes shut as a sigh escaped her mouth. 

“You can buy some wires there in town. Just gotta tell the staff there this and that and you’re good.” You began to walk away 

“Shit.” She groaned, then turned to look at you. There was frustration in her tone. “Alright, can you do me a favor?”

“Favor? I thought you didn't need my help?”

“Come on, please don’t be dick head for now.” She hisses.

“I’m now the dick head between us now huh? After talking shit at me yesterday?”

“Y/n!” She widened her eyes, warning you.

“Now, you’re turning the tables again” You scoff, then reach your palm at her. “Money.”

“I don’t have cash right now.” She dug her hands in her pockets. “I’ll just pay you in some way, Just-“ She groaned. “ Buy me the wire for now.”

Well, you couldn’t resist her. She had this sort of lack of temper management, maybe only to you or   to everybody, but yet you still find it attractive and hot. The wire shouldn’t cost much of your cash so you agreed with her request.

It only took around ten minutes to find the exact wire from mechanic shops and later you arrived back at her house. The wire cost two and a half dollars. You bought two in case things went sideways, you knew how Rose would obviously act if it did so. 

“You sure this is it?” She looked up at you.

“Yeah. I told him my boss would kick me out of the house if he gave me the wrong one.”

She chuckles, it was your first time seeing a smile form in her lips and it was beautiful. You hoped you’d see more of it. You began to step out of her garage again and her face became intrigued, 

“Where are you going?” She asks.

“Home, why?”

“Did I tell you to?”

Your brows furrowed. “Are you my mommy or something?”

“No, but you can’t just leave right away.”

“Why not?”

She tilts her head, resting a hand over the car’s grills. “So you can just walk away from your asshole neighbor that easily?”

“Probably yeah, I hate assholes.” You grinned and she turned her back at you, continuing her hands on the car. You heard her talking with her head ducked inside the engine.

“Alright, stick with your decision then. ” 

You left out a quick chuckle at her before you walked away from her garage. The sun had shown a great promise above the skies where you wanted to get off right away under its burning rays. Before you would have reached the tree near your house you heard Rose make a loud “ow” that sounded like a moan and groan at the same time. It sounded good, you didn’t deny. There was this sort of excitement inside you when you heard it, but still it’s just bad. 

You ran back then found her at the same spot, her head still ducked in the car’s engine, and when she noticed your shadow she slowly looked back. 

“What happened?” You asked worriedly. 

“Why are you here?”

“I heard you just yell or so and I thought that something happened to you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to help me.”

You glanced away. “Human instinct bro. I mean come on, even a stray ass dog will come here when you yell like that. So what happened?”

She smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe I hit my head? Lost a finger, popped my eyeballs out.”

“What the hell is that answer?” 

She rolled her eyes and threw the wrench at your front. “I obviously need help, asshole. Why the hard to get behavior?” 

“I’m not.” You picked up the wrench and slowly stepped into her garage once again. “It’s you who’s doing it. Acting arrogant the whole time then turns into a little pup when things go down.”

She pushed your arm and it left a black stain on your gray tee. “Yah? Calling me a little pup as if you’re not one as well in your school, huh?”

“I’m just doing it for the sake of my scholarship and dream popular-“ You quickly stopped when you realized you slipped off your greatest secret, but it seemed too late already you saw her eyebrows raised and she chuckled.

“Popularity? So you want to be a popular guy huh?” She covered her mouth, and you watched her giggle in amusement. “This dude what the hell?” 

“Alright, laugh all you want.” 

She continued laughing at you, placing continuous taps over her car. You felt embarrassed that you wanted to squeeze yourself into a tin can, never to be found again. Was this a turn off? Nevertheless, you began fixing and removing the old wires of the alternator of her car, making yourself busy at least. 

“Yeah yeah.” She finally uncovered and heard her sniff. “Fucking hilarious, that is something that a nerd guy would dream in a high school musical. Damn boy, I never thought you’d be funny” She stood beside and noticed your silence. “Wait, so you’re not joking?”

When you didn’t answer, she placed another push on the same spot, turning the stain even darker. 

“Don’t make a fool of yourself, Y/n.” She said between chuckles. “Tell me that you need bitches without actually telling me you need bitches.”

“Hey?” You paused while ducking in. “That’s not the point why I want to be. To be honest, I don’t need one.” You lied. Though you wanted one, maybe someone like her or either herself. She gives this bitch vibe who’d you call ‘mommy’ and kneel upon while she verbally or physically abuses you. She’s hot as hell. 

“And that’s something a bitchless guy would say in a girl so he’d feel like ‘I’m manly and tough, I don’t need girls in my life because they’re bunch of useless beings’ “

 You tapped the battery with the wrench, sounding a ‘ting’, and you stood straight. “You know what, I’m done. Fix it yourself.”

“Oh no, baby boy is crying again.” She made a mocking sad face. “Did I hurt his feelings again?” 

“It’s just annoying that you’d always make me look like I’m some weak ass shit who couldn’t do anything.”

“I did not say you are, and plus I’m just stating the facts based on my experiences.” She snatched the wrench out from your right hand, then moved closer at you.”They’d tell me the same sentences all over again thinking they’ll impress me.” She squints her eyes, tilting her head. Her hair brushing over your hand. “But guess who’s falling into their knees at the end? Calling me ‘Mommy’ while I ruin their mental shits out and even with those they’d still always look for it.” Her voice became soft, a lingering mischief within her tone.  “Seems like I’m pretty irresistible right?”

You were frozen, and at the same time you’re lowkey enjoying the moment with her hidden side. 

“Why aren’t you answering, you know I hate these kinds of people who leave me hanging.” She added while she kept her eyes locked on yours. 

You shook your head to snap yourself back to reality, you were falling into her trap or some sort of hypnotism. She’s too alluring, every second you’d feel something pulling you into placing your lips on hers. 

“Whatever, I’ll just finish this” You ducked back below the hood, continuing your hands on the wires. “I still have a meeting later.”

She scoffed. “It’s Saturday dumb ass.”

“Meeting isn’t always related to school.”

“As if I knew it?”

So you stayed by her side most of the day, fixed her broken mustang’s alternator, then had small conversations with her. You were getting dirty every hour. The amount of dust, dried oil stains and burnt ashes all over, but you didn’t care anyways. She had treated you to lunch, surprisingly for her, and you’re starting to see her bright personality on every hour that passes by. You thought James lied. 

When you got some water inside her house, you saw notebooks and pens on her desk and the lamp light lit open. Most books had your university’s name on it.  A brown acoustic guitar with a capo stood beside the desk. She plays instruments? Damn she’s just attractive.

Finally, you had replaced all the broken wires with new ones and when you told her to start it up, the mustang came into life, roaring while the engine shook within the rhythm. She squealed in happiness. You saw her covering her mouth from the windshield while she enjoyed the view inside like a kid who sat in a Lamborghini for the first time of her life.

You stepped a few steps backward and enjoyed the view of her car that was revived from the dead. You let out a relieved sigh. You watched her step out from her car as she approached you with a light smile on her lips; now this seems sincere rather than a forced one. 

“Ko-ma-wo” 

“Uh, what?”

“It’s thank you in Korean.’ She answers. 

“Oh” You hesitated for a second, then gave her a quick bow despite looking stupid because you knew that’s what most Koreans do when receiving thanks. “No problem.”

“As I told you a while ago that I’m pretty cashless right now, I don’t know how I would pay you.” 

There were a lot of thoughts running in your mind, and obviously they were what a guy would like for a hot girl to do: free sex, having her knees down at the floor while she devours your cock, maybe a dog style on the garage, or maybe be his boyfriend. But you were educated, not some punk ass dude who’d treat them like objects. You knew the boundaries, so instead you just kept it to yourself. 

“It’s fine, you don’t need to. I enjoyed fixing your car anyways, so it’s more of my own liking rather than a forced work.”

“Well . . . I don’t think I can agree with that.” She looked skeptical. “I just don’t feel like living in a world knowing I’m indebted to someone.”

“It’s fine, Rose. I volunteered, so I don’t really need you to feel indebted just because of that. I told you myself, I don’t need it.” You emphasized the final three words, hoping she’d finally agree with your request. But it was not a request either. You’d call it a consolation thanking because she finally talked to you properly without being a bitch. 

She sighed, her eyes closing while she looked down. Both of you were outside the garage, but still under the lifted door that covered you from the blazing heat. 

“I’ll think about how I would pay you. But for now, thank you for your help.” She nodded lightly. The smile was still light.

“Alright, I’ll see you again.” You smiled back. “Take a shower already, you don’t wanna stink and get seen dirty by the neighborhood.”

“Yah? Even if I’m dirty like a beggar, I won’t stink.” 

“Of course, you’d tell me that.” 

So another point for your memorable interaction with the neighbor. She is Rose. You’d call her with that from this point. You remembered that moment where she was very close to you. And right, you were stiffing and yet you had to make yourself looked calm as possible because you didn’t want to look so weak and soft either. That voice while she tells how most of his boys called her ‘mommy’, was enough to make you gulp alone in your bed while leaning against the bed board with the blanket covering the lower part of your body.

 One final check on her wouldn’t hurt, so you did peek over the window—saw the lights shut on her bedroom—then laid back to your bed, thanking god for a great Saturday.

Sunday ran past as there wasn’t something to do. You just stayed up inside the house, fixed some things and arranged your items that didn’t need to be arranged, and yet you still did. After a while Monday has come so you’re back to reality. Faced with numerous seat works and homeworks, you were buzzed—but then you remembered you had inspiration—Rose. James never knew about her being your neighbor and decided to keep it first to yourself. She might not want others to know her presence and as you knew James thought she had left Canada.

Deandre and the gang were like hornets that had their hive touched by you, they just won’t leave and disappear at least for a day until they sucked out your resources. Most will be depressed, but you were smart—bought a pack of cheap cookies that only cost around five to seven dollars, and you bring one extra every single day for him. Perfect timing, that’s all what it takes—but not now. 

You washed your face in the comfort room. The water cold, it was refreshing. You were alone in the room and there was peace at least after a long day merging with crowds in the corridor and the room. The running water from the faucet. When you stepped outside, pulled the door open, a woman stood at the front leaning against the opposite wall. Her eyes on the left corridor and travels towards you once she has noticed your presence out. She had a good set of eyes—more of like a cat shaped and you realized then she was one of Rose’s friends. 

“Oh there you are.” She smiled. “So I think you’ve seen me already, probably.”

“Deandre’s girlfriend?” You didn’t hesitate. She was that girl on the court where his arms were around her seat. Was she this? Maybe not, but would it make any difference? 

She chuckled, covering her mouth. “Not really. How do you say so, Mr. New face?”

“Well, I just assumed? Just how he’d bring you with him taxing me for some shit everytime in the corridor?” 

Her chuckles sounded so expensive that you’d wish to hear it for an hour straight. And with that pretty fierce cat face, every boy would fall for it. 

“You're more confident than I thought so.” She smirked. “But anyways I’ll just get straight to the point why I’m here. It wouldn’t really sound good if rumors start to spread when that one popular girl is seen talking to a new bird like you right in front of the male’s restroom.”

“Yeah, they might think—“

“I gave you a head or such.” She interrupts you like she knew what was running inside your head. Never thought she’d be open minded. “So, do you drink or not?”

“Well . . . Sort of? Only at reasonable events and parties.”

She pulls out a card that was entirely white and blank. “Tomorrow, 10 pm in my house.”

“What’s happening? And what am I supposed to do with a blank card.”

“Show that to my guard at the front gate, and it’s a party.”

“Is this a dream or something? Are you really inviting a guy who you have never met before?” 

“Well I met you right now, plus it’s more of a friend’s request rather than my own. So are you going, or are you wasting the once in a lifetime chance?”

You were hesitating while her eyes were locked at you, waiting for an answer. But then, she’s right there in front and you wouldn’t want to make herself disappointed. At Least not waste her time inviting you just for you to say ‘no’.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

Her eyebrows lifted and a closed smile appeared in her lips. “Okay great! Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Toodles.” She walks out, maintaining eye contact for a while while she waves her hand at you. She walks sassy—not in a way she’d wiggle her butt at every step—but more of reminding everyone that the prettiest is passing by. Almost nearing the class shift, it was time for you to head back to the room.

At the final break shift, you opened up the party invite to your friends. They were surprised, obviously. Not even expecting such a popular girl to come right in front of the comfort room to reach out for a party invite.

“Jennie herself?” Clifton freaked softly that only the four of you could see.

“Yeah, she reached me out this blank ass paper” 

Your friends studied the paper. There was just nothing, even you could think she’s just fooling out of you. Was she? Yes or no. She doesn’t seem to be the type of person. If she did make a fool out of you—can you even complain? 

“Probably invisible ink” Julia says while she tilts it back and forth. “Just not some ordinary paper card you’d cut out”

“Well what’s your plan then?” James asks. “Can you bring friends?”

You place your hand over your face. “Fuck, I forgot to ask. But do you think I can?”

“I’d say not, blud.” Tyrone answers while he pulls his bag from the floor, placing it behind his back.  “Those girls are just picky with the people they’re encountering. You're one lucky bastard.”

“How did you make her invite you?” James asks, his tone filled with confusion and curiosity. “As if you’ve done nothing and suddenly that girl just came looking for you . . . Right in the toilet? Pretty bullshit. ”

You shrug shoulders. “I don’t know. Ask her yourself. You know like when the nerd guy in a K Drama suddenly gets the popular girl’s heart?”

James swung his hand. “That’s some bullshit, you ain’t in a fantasy world bro.”

“Like I have the courage to talk to her in the first place?” says You. 

“Anyways, goodluck.” Julia raises her thumb. “You have the GC to chat on. If you need help, we'll be there.” 

“Thank you fellas.” You smile. Having these kinds of friends is like hitting a jackpot in a slot machine. Only the four of you, even though it might sound little, it was fine rather than a bunch of plastic backstabbers. 

Back home it’s the usual routine: gym and cardio. Finished by ten in the night and it was your most late one. You had eaten a set of combo meals in a fast food chain, and it felt like carrying a baby in your tummy as you walked a kilometer. 

You saw Rose outside, carrying another garbage bag to be thrown in the can at the front. When she noticed your presence on the street, a light smile formed in her lips, and of course you couldn’t help but smile back. She had a toothpick in her mouth—again. 

“Late night junk works.” You began and she chuckled while she pulled the toothpick out from her mouth.

“Late night walk back home.” 

“Quite a struggle to find a bus back to this town,” says You. 

She pushes the lid down. “Poor you. Why? Was the date so good?”

“Date? What do you mean?”

She raises her brows. Her eyes darted everywhere but you. “Date with your girl or so . . . “

“My girl?” You scoff. “Where did you get that?”

“ I — “ Her eyes finally met yours, and the feeling was different. You could feel it. “—I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking?” She rolls her eyes. “Such an asshole.”

“Well that wasn’t a question tho?”

She sighs, her eyes closing. You loved poking her with your unnecessary follow ups, and seeing her get annoyed feels satisfying— it’s like poking your cold crush back in elementary. You still did remember it.  Well, Rose is your crush, sort of? And since silence seemed to follow your words, you decide to add things more. 

“I went to the gym, never realized my rest was too long until I noticed the clock, then I decided to eat outside, and here I’am.” 

She nods lightly. Her mouth forming an ‘o’ then looks away. “Well, stupid you.”

“Yeah stupid me.” You chuckle, and you find yourself forcing a smile. She’s not even looking anyways so it’s fine. “Anyways, I’ll head home now. I have to rest. You should too.”

She tucks a few strands of her hair behind her ear, then gives a light nod. “Still have things to do. I ain’t like a baby kid like you who needs to sleep early.”

“Well you’re a baby as well: Baby attitude.”

She rolls her eyes; her face shows disgust. “As if I cry when I get real-talked?”

You resume your steps and pretend you don’t really listen to her words at all. Of course, she’d open that up over and over again, and she’ll always find a way to counter you. “Whatever, goodnight.”

“Yeah that’s right, walk away idiot.” She raises her voice, but not that loud for the whole neighborhood to hear. It was only meant for you. “He really always gets on my nerves. But, he’s goddamn kind at the same time. Fuck this, Roseanne.” She whispers to herself while she watches you in the distance. Then later, she heads back inside as well. 

Struggling to pick whether a stylish or a casual one, you still ended up choosing nothing. And not because they were your favorites, but because you were overthinking what people like them would wear on house parties. You laid back to your bed and watched the ceiling. What are you even supposed to do now? Countless questions appear every second in your head, and then you start to feel sleepy afterwards, until you drift into paradise. 

Tomorrow was just a regular school day. Finished papers and passed them to the professor, hanging out with friends during break, then later on it was wrapping up. Your friends remind you to at least enjoy and behave at the same time; you didn’t know what was about to come later as well. It was around eight and a half night when you got to your house, and surprisingly, Rose was nowhere to be found outside. Maybe she’s busy.

A black loose shirt with spread collar and khaki pants was your choice. It is stylish and comfortable at the same time, making it the perfect outfit for a whole night run with strangers. Assignments and projects were not something to be worried about, as you finished them earlier at the school during break hours. So, you’re currently stress-free—almost. And the only thing to stress right now is the later’s event. 

At the front of your house, you begin to book for an Uber. You know it’s costly —as if you have any other choice for it. Tapping the book button, you realized you missed a field to answer, and it’s the drop off location. Shit, you forgot to ask her, and Jennie never said the location either. The paper was blank, so you’re left clueless. 

A headlight shone at your spot from the right. You cannot see who’s car it was, but it’s annoying you. Its engine roared when it accelerated, sounding like an old car. As it parked at your front, you realized it was Rose’s, and you saw her when she rolled the windows down. 

“Get in.” She began. Her tone sounds like she’s been doing this for years to you.

“Well, I have a party tonight and—“

“And you think we’re not going to the same place either?” She tilts her head and checks her watch. “Almost ten pookie, you don’t wanna miss the party.”

What a savior. Even if she was an annoying neighbor, she was there to help you at the exact time you needed one. She was hot, and her outfit made her more. A black fishnet long sleeves that revealed more of her skin beneath while wearing a black crop top inside. She also wore denim shorts—as usual. This was the most alluring outfit you have seen from her throughout the time that you didn’t even realize you were staring at her throughout the time she was talking. 

“Yah!” She raised her voice, snapping you back to reality. She tilts her head with a face that reminds you she was talking. 

“Oh sorry.” You shook your head. “I’m just really flaky right now. Finished some assignments and stuff, yeah?” 

“Ah, weird for me to tell Jennie to invite a nerd for a party.” She scoffed.

“Do a nerd even wear like this, huh?” You show off your clothes. 

“And I didn’t know you could wear something nice at least.” 

“Alright, sure. So you picked me up just to insult me again?” 

“Just stating the facts.” Her lips form a smirk as she moves her hand over the gear knob. “Seatbelt, Mr. Crybaby.”

You shook your head in annoyance; there’s no absolute counter to her at all. Well there was, but you’re in her car, so as if you have the courage to speak shit at her. Once she heard the click from your seat belt lock, she accelerated the car; hard enough to push you back to your seat.

Throughout the ride, you and her shared a few conversations. Watching the lights across the town, it was amazing. The car ride vibe was entirely different compared back to your home country. You’d describe it way more peacefully by the few cars that came from the opposite lane.

Shortly later, she parked her car behind a black SUV. When she told you this was her place, you stepped out and stretched your arms. The walls were perfectly trimmed bushes that were almost thrice the size of your height, it was funny. Several parked cars lined up in the same direction where Rose’s car was, and most were luxurious ones, ranging from Chevrolet’s to Mercedes’s. 

She guided you inside, where you saw how wide the place was. At first, you thought it was some event place or house. But when Rose told you this was Jennie’s, it gave you another reason to believe your friend’s words that messing with them is the biggest mistake you'd make. 

The guard let you both in when he inspected your invitation cards with a small blue lighted flashlight. He was well built. The clothes shaped his width, reminding the ones who would want to trespass her place. Inside the house, it was slightly dim, and it gave a sort of club vibe where you have to walk through darkness before seeing the lights. Well you did, but instead, it was a living room with some people around. The lights were pinkish red. Few people were on the second floor while some leaned against the railings. 

“Rosie!” The short haired girl approached her. She was tall and was one of the three popular girls. “I like your outfit, so freaking bad.”

“Do you really have to glaze me that much, Lisa?” Rose grins while she holds her hand. Lisa’s eyes slowly land on you as her eyebrows raise.

“So, who’s this new face you’ve brought tonight?” asks Lisa. 

Rose looks at you, and while she says her words, she keeps her eyes at you for a while before looking back at her. “A kind guy who helped me fix my Mustang last week in my garage.”

“Oh, so we’re bringing strangers now?” Lisa looks at her while she lands a few glances at you. 

You felt Rose’s hands around your arm, and her thumb began rubbing shapes in your skin. “Darling, you really think I’m just bringing strangers here? Of course, you know the obvious."

Lisa’s expression turned bright as she nodded several times, knowing the answer through Rose’s actions at you. “You’re starting to keep stories from now, huh.” She pokes Rose. You didn’t even expect Lisa to reach her hands at you. “Lisa, by the way.”

“Y/n.” You accepted the hand offer. A judgmental person, that seemed what she is, and the courage she had to call you a stranger in front of you was bewildering. Good thing, Rose managed to play it off smoothly, and you didn’t expect her to save you at all, knowing she’s an asshole towards you.  

When Lisa walks away, you look at her. “Why did you save me?”

“I’m not entirely an asshole to embarrass a person who helped me as well,” says her as she meets your eyes. “Come, I’ll let you meet my friends.”

“Shit, that would be too embarrassing.” You slightly pull away. 

“I thought you wanted to be popular?”

“I do.”

“And I’m giving you the chance, yet you’re here with your baby attitude again.”

“Shit.” You sigh, resting your hand on your hips while you try to gather your courage to face such students like them. 

“Tonight, you’d be known as my boyfriend, and they won’t do shit about it.” 

“You’re my girlfriend?” You raised your brows. “How I wished to be.”

She tilts her head as her eyes narrow. “Just for tonight, idiot.”

“Oh.” 

“And yeah, keep wishing. As if I’d boyfriend someone like you.” She rolls her eyes and starts to pull your hand with her. “Come on, no time to waste.”   

Yeah, rejected as usual. You were just playing with it; you intended to act sad, but still it was quite painful to hear such rejection. She led you to a couch where her friends sat, and you saw a person that's always ruining your mood every time you see him. Deandre, he was there, at the couch sitting beside Jennie. And as Rose feels your sudden step aback, she grabs your wrist. 

“If I say you touch me, you will touch me.” She softly says while both of you approach. “No but’s and if’s.”

“Hey, baby.” Jennie stands and approaches her, kissing cheeks. “Quit late, huh?”

“Sorry darling, my boyfriend is quite a snail-head in times of events like this.” She grins, looking at you.

“What a surprise, Y/n,” says Jennie. “You didn’t even tell me yesterday that our Rosie is your girlfriend already. Quite a mysterious transferee, huh?”

“Uh,” You stutter, and when Rose notices your awkward act, she warns you with her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep it lowkey, I guess.”

“Ah lowkey.” Jennie lightly nods and nudges your arm. “I understand, you know. Rose is quite a popular one in school, and I assume you’d hate rumors when they realize you’re a transferee.”

“Yo Jennie, why invite an outcast here?” His voice. Once again, you heard it, and it’s enough to ruin your mood. “Guess you got the wrong person. I don’t think he’d enjoy the party by reaching out for glasses and serving us like a waiter some shit.” You heard his friends share chuckles and laughs. 

“Deandre, what a fucker.” She whispers, rolling her eyes. She was still facing you.  

“Babe,” says Rose, enough for Deandre’s whole friends to hear. “Come sit beside me, I’m missing your touches quite fast already.”

So she called you babe, and hearing it was enough to make you blush deep inside. You’re just both acting. You reminded yourself, and this isn’t the best time to dwell into your feelings. You followed her request and sat beside her. As you sat, she rested her right leg over your thigh, and snuggled against you.

All of their eyes, even Deandre’s, were on both of you. They were silent, some looked away and pretended like they didn’t laugh at his joke. Rose enjoyed the view on their faces.

“Touch me, now.” She whispered while keeping an eye on them.”

And gently, you did. You placed your hand over her thigh and caressed it gently, enjoying every inch of her skin. It was smooth and soft. You could stay up the whole day doing this over and over again, and not get tired. 

Deandre was silent. Within those smirks and scoffs in his lips hides the embarrassment he feels towards the both of you. 

“At Least he could pull Rosie than you could do.” Jisoo teases. She was sitting on the right couch. 

“She just had no one to bring, trust me.” Deandre answered back.

“Not really, Drei. We both know I could bring any handsome guy in the school with a simple hi, right?” says Rose. “Just tell me you’re being a crybaby because you were not the one with me tonight.” She looks up at you; your faces are a few inches apart. “Right, babe?”

You were getting flustered, but it’s all just a plan, remember? Everything is fake. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You forced a smile. 

“Aww come on. What’s with those simple answers?” Rose pouts. “You don’t love me?”

“Ah, of course I do love you so much.” You took the courage to caress her cheeks, down to her neck.  “You’re so gorgeous tonight.”

Then, you felt her hand over your chest, where she unbuttons one, caressing the same ways as yours.  

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She says between. 

Your said so ‘cuddles’ was enough to shut Deandre’s mouth more. Another scoff from him, then a word never came out of his mouth again. He only watched both of you share cheeky moments together. His friends shut quiet, acting normal, some were on their phones. Deandre’s dogs, that’s what they are. 

The heat between the three of you has finally cooled down, they were avoiding their eyes on you, while Deandre would place glances sometimes. Jennie came back to the table with bottles on both hands: a whiskey and gin. Shit, liquors, it’s been awhile. You had the last of those during the post-prom night event, where you stayed with close friends, drank all night; not even caring about your haggard looks. 

All part of new friendship—you wanted this. Jennie insisted on pouring the liquor on your shot glass. You didn’t expect her to be this kind. You assumed she’s a two sided woman. 

It was bitter, felt your throat burn as the liquid passed down. You hid your uncomfort through closing your eyes and swallowing hard, while looking emotionless. It’s a tough battle. Shortly after a few shots, your body seems to condition the liquors, until you realize you’re starting to drink it normally. 

Looking at Rose, she’s hell of gorgeous. The way she sat, both legs over the sofa, her whitish purple hair free on her left shoulder while she rested her left hand on the cushion—was a sight to enjoy. Beneath those fishnet sleeves teases her curves and smooth skin. The world seemed to slow down, it was just her you see. As the pink light colors her face, there was the sense of allure and attraction within your heart.

You excused yourself for a bathroom break, they didn’t seem to care, so you went right away. Splashed cold water on your face from the faucet, that was it—you just wanted a refreshment. The bathroom luxurious. As you stepped out, you had to pass by several couples who were making out on the wall.

Back at the table, Rose had become quite more flirtatious. She was getting drunk; Jennie told you, and the fact that it was your first time seeing her act like this was a changing experience.  So you just let her be. It’s only a plan, something not to be serious about, and within her touches and snuggles lies nothing but falseness and showing off to people—she’s just helping you, remember. She’d never be your girlfriend. Smiles and laughter surrounded you, and you were just here forcing yours. 

You had decided to take fresh air outside Jennie’s place, right at Rose’s mustang. The sight was relaxing, though it’s nothing but a grass field. You stayed under a tree beside her car. The crescent moon shone between dark clouds, and there were the stars. 

You were drunk; you knew that, and as you shook your head more makes your vision get fuzzier—it was funny.

You heard crunches of soil near you, and behind you saw Rose approaching. She walked playfully, swinging her arms freely. “Hey baby.” 

“Stop that.” You forced a grin. 

“Why? Don’t you love it when I call you that?”

You walked towards her car, and leaned against the hood. “No.”

“No your ass, bitch.” She stood beside you and playfully pushed your arm using her body. “What are you even doing here?”

“Taking fresh air.”

She giggles and covers her mouth. “Just tell me you’re not used to crowds.”

“I’m used to it,” says you, “I’m just exhausted.”

“Ah.” She lightly nodded, and there was silence. It’s quite comfortable to have moments like this with her alone in a quiet night—wished you’d have another of this soon after. Soon enough, you didn’t notice she was looking at you until you glanced at her.

“I like your outfit.” She smiles lightly. “Not being an asshole, but it’s really nice.”

You were flustered. “Thanks . . . I just save this kind of clothes for times like this. But you know what’s nicer?”

“What?” 

“If I don’t have these on.” 

 You winced internally, almost wanting to run a kilometer away. Rather than a disgusted look, her face showed off more of a disappointed look. 

“That’s some corny ass shit, Y/n.” She scoffed. 

“Just kidding, forget about that.”

“I don’t forget corny jokes that easy, crybaby.” She tilts her head and teases you with a forced pout. 

“Well . . . I’ll be honest right now,” You say, “I like your outfit as well. Quite weird for me to see you getting attractive each day.”

You said it from the bottom of your heart. She really was. Everytime you’d see her outside her house, despite the same clothing style she’d still be beautiful. 

She seemed to accept your words. Then, she moved closer to you, her eyes gazing at yours. “You know what will be better?” She tilts her head, her body shifting at you. “And it’s when these are off from me, and it’s right in your hands. "

You froze, and found yourself staring back into her eyes while she wore that mischievous smile on her lips. She copied your joke, but why did it work so well for you. Her deliverance, not so maybe.

“Why is Mr. Tough guy silent, eh?” She leans, your face a few inches between, and grins while giggling mischievously. “Feels shocking when your words are thrown back at you as well, doesn't it?”

“Yeah, and you said it so well that it didn’t even sound like a joke anymore.” 

“Oh?” She tilts her head, keeping her face close at you. “Did I even say I was?”

Both of you were close, and the urge to kiss her lips, pull her into you, consumes your mind. Your heart was racing fast. This is the time, to take your chance, to finally fulfill that desire you wished. It didn’t take long enough for her to notice you glancing into her cute lips.

“Come on, do it.” She says softly, her breath hot on your face and smelled of liquor. “I could see it in your eyes, Y/n.” She moved even closer. “Do you need mommy’s permission again?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, hesitating. She’s drunk. She doesn’t mean anything of this, and you didn’t want to take advantage of her—even if your urge to do it was boiling inside you. Shit, whatever. You didn’t want to miss it, and you finally took the chance as you pressed your lips on hers. They were smooth like cushions. It all started off with just presses and touches of lips, and the play had changed when she placed her hand around your nape. You’re completely clueless with kisses and such. There you let her continue the kiss, feeling her pulling your lower lip between her lips, giving it a tender suck. Your heart was racing faster, feeling the excitement consume your body. But it’s right here—it’s happening. 

She slowly pulls away, tracing her hand on your cheek down to your neck. “Looks like someone doesn’t know how to kiss a girl, hmm?”

 You nod sheepishly and look down in embarrassment. Never in once you did have. Shortly, she lifts your chin back at her.

“Let me guide you then.” A sly smile appears on her lips “Inside the car.” She commands as she walks towards the driver door, biting her lips at you. 

As you sat inside, she pushed the retract button of your seat, then straddled herself atop you as the seat retracted full. She wasn't heavy at all, yet the feeling of her weight on top of you was euphoric. There’s no such thing as discomfort when an alluring woman is right on your front.

She flipped her hair to the right, then sensually slid her fingers from the side of her neck, down to her shoulder, where she pulled down her sleeve to expose her bare shoulder. “Am I pretty, asshole?”

“Yes, you—” 

She leaned and crashed her lips once again into yours, not even letting you complete such a compliment. The rhythm turns aggressive, and the way she’d devour your lips like no tomorrow excites you even more while her hands cradle your face. Her curves were delighting as you placed your hands on it.

You didn’t know how to answer her kisses back, and you let her control you. She wasn’t even complaining, seemingly enjoying the position she had, and as the make out prolonged, you began to feel her tongue between your lips, where you didn’t hesitate to welcome it as she explored your mouth. Your hand grips into her waist as you feel your body burning into excitement. 

She pulled away and sighed sensually, straightening her back. She licked her lips wet and bit her lip while she gazed into your eyes full of lust and desire. This is a drunk Rose. In any situation, she’d always look gorgeous—hot. 

“Ssibal , igeo neomu segsihae” She hisses, pressing her hands over your chest, then slowly unfastens your buttons. Contemplating decisions, she stopped when you grabbed her hands.

“Rosie, do you really want this?”

She scoffed, and pushed your hand away. “You really had the audacity to stop me when you can’t even kiss properly, huh?” She leans closer into your face, making sure you’d hear the following words from her hot mouth. “And I don’t want you calling me with that name. Wouldn’t it be better if you start calling me—“ She moves to your ear, whispering “—your mommy , hmm?” Slowly, she runs her lips into your neck. “You know I hate when something gets in my way, and you just went and did it. But lucky you, I’m not in my mood to give you pain. Now, all I just want is something inside me—and I think your goddamn dick is the perfect one.”

Your cock stiffened even more. Her words were not something you’d expect from that asshole neighbor weeks ago, with only eyes and gazed communication that became tiring every single afternoon. From giving eyes, to exploring each other’s mouth in her car—it escalated fast. 

She helped you pull her fishnet sleeves down from her shoulders, leaving only her black crop top and her delicate skin. Her hips began to rub into your crotch slowly, like she knows how much your cock wanted it—and you really did. A sly smile would form in her lips between grinds when she sees the enjoyment from your eyes. Your breaths and her soft moans fill the quiet surroundings.

Quickly pulling down the black crop top herself revealed a pair of tits that hid beneath the thin fabric. They were just enough for your palms to hold on; perky, petite, and soft. Her nipples hard, and while your thumb enjoyed caressing it, she’d arch her back and let out moans. Her hips continued to grind you. She went faster as you massaged her tits like it’s a separate thing from her.

“Fuck.” She moans and holds your hands, pressing it more into her breasts. “I need something more than this.”

The door clicked on your side and she pushed it open, welcoming the fresh air. You watched Rose dismount herself from you. There were no people around, and she wouldn’t be seen either as she used the mustang as a cover. 

“This way.” She pulled your arm, shifting you to face her outside while keeping your ass on the seat. She knelt down; you know what’s gonna happen next, and you were bracing for it. While she unbuckles your belt, she’d give quick glances at your eyes, her lips smirking like a girl unwrapping her Christmas gift despite knowing what’s about to show up already. 

Pulled your pants and underwear hard down to your feet, she let out a moan as she appreciated the view of your stiff cock. 

“How I missed this.”  She points it towards her mouth before her tongue darts out to give a wet lick  around your tip. A shiver runs down to your body; irresistible, sort of shocking yet you wanted it for long. It was your first time, and it is addicting. She teases you with her tongue licks around your tip, then shortly, she takes you into her hot mouth, pushing herself into your base. You gripped your hands behind, on the seat, clinging yourself within Rose’s devious act. 

The woman moans between swallows, her bobs going slower, then faster — then slow again. You closed your eyes to savor the sensations flowing outward from your crotch. Your hands are gripping the seat harder. You couldn’t help but get mesmerized by the view of her sucking your cock off while kneeling down on a rough concrete road outside, shirtless with her breasts exposed—nipples hard. 

You run your fingers on her hair, gripping a few strands as she pulls away. 

“Mind helping me?” She looked up at you with a provocative gaze.

“You can’t just suck my dick like this while being shirtless outside.” 

“Why?” She raises a brow while keeping a hand wrapped around your cock. “"Don't you want them to know that the guy who they think they can just boss around like a poor pup, is currently having his cock swallowed by the popular guitarist student of Chandelier Academy?” She gives your cock a quick swallow, leaving a slick sheen of her spit between it and her lips. “Are you ashamed of mommy giving his fake boyfriend a head?” 

“No.” You shake your head sheepishly. 

“Now shut your goddamn mouth.” Then the ravaging continues, slightly raising herself to face your cock down, pushing herself until your base. A moan escapes your mouth; it was sensational, and you’d  never get tired—wishing this would last until the morning. Your hands made way on a few strands of her hair while she gave your cock a deep throat, and sensing her struggle you gently pushed her further down, feeling more of her mouth’s insides. 

She gags; you were worried, and she felt it when you started to loosen your grip on her hair, so she grasped your wrist back and pressed your hand tightly once again at her hair—telling you to continue further—and so you did. All you could do was watch your arrogant neighbor take herself deep into your cock, and as well savor every delicious sparks of pleasure radiating from your shaft, up to your spine and into an overwhelmed brain.

“I’m cumming, mommy.” You hiss between gasps. It was near, and within these seconds you’d create a mess in her mouth. Rose responded by quickening her pace, up and down—fast. And you found yourself groaning, placing your hand over her head like you were clinging your life into it. No questions needed to ask whether you’d pop it out inside her mouth or not—that was the answer. She went faster every second, and shortly, feeling it now at the edge of your cock, you released it into the back of your neighbor’s needy throat. The sense of relief consumed you. All of that stress and hesitation turned into nothing but thick white semen inside her mouth.  

She finally slows her pace, her mouth still wrapped around you as a mix of your cum and her saliva glistens on your cock. Then she looks up at you.“I missed that, did you like it?”

Your nods formed a smile on her lips, and soon she stood up on her feet where she pushed you inside further. Closing the door with her, she moved to the driver seat, shifting her body facing you on the passenger side, where she spread her legs. Her denim shorts were still on, and when she noticed you just watching stupidly, she raised a brow. 

“I removed your pants myself, so are you,” stated Rose. This was the greenlight, your hands made way into the button of her shorts, unfastening it, and pulled it to her knees. Her black undergarment greeted your eyes; you kept it on for a while as you admired the view of her delicate thighs, running your hands on them. You’d tease her with your slight touches over her crotch area, where she’d let out a soft moan despite the black thin fabric that separates you and her skin. “You know how to make a woman wait, huh?” 

“I’m just making every second count,” says you between heavy breaths. “Might be the first and last.”

“And who said it would be?” Her fingers run on your jawline, as excitement fills you upon hearing those words. You heard it right— might not be your last ever; she said it herself and surely it wasn’t your drunk mind making up voices. “Now don’t keep me waiting before I change my mind.”

You placed kisses on her legs, up to her thighs, then to her belly. Her skin is soft, addictive. Running your hands on her hips while you plant those sweet kisses, she’d spread her legs wider, telling you she couldn’t wait to give in.

Pulling her black undergarment down welcomed your eyes with her delicious pussy, like a meal you’ve wanted for years. Your body burning with desire and lust, and you didn’t wait any longer to devour her cunt right away, latching your lips around her tender flesh. 

“Goddamnit.” She grunts, her hand grabbing into your hair as she watches you. Shortly, your fingers find her opening and slip inside, sliding in and out, as you lean towards her to suck her nipples. She was at your mercy, and the sensation was consuming her. 

“Faster” She let out a small whimper, her eyes shutting tightly. In response to her request, you quickened your pace, moving faster than usual. Your fingers wetter. “I’m near”

She’d keep her vulgar words until now, but that even made you like your work at her even more. Her hands were still over your head, her nails digging into your scalp. Pain was nothing but an obstacle, you didn’t really mind. 

(You quickened more)

At the final reach, she lets out a gasp as she orgasms; her slick wetness dripping into your fingers. Her breath quickened, and she closed her eyes in relaxation, then ran her hand over her messy hair while her desirous eyes gazed at you. Her body was irresistible. You’d take a curvy petite figure every night and day with you without getting tired. 

A sly smile spreads across her lips as her gaze settles on your cock. “Now for the exciting part.”

She pushes herself upright, wrapping her arms around your neck as she crashes her lips against yours, hungrily devouring the kiss. Your bare skin touches hers, and what excites you more is seeing her slender, naked figure right in front of you, her weight over your lap as you feel the heat of her body.

You let her do her work on your mouth. Messy? It was not for you— just entirely hot that you’d last forever doing this with her. She pulled away to position herself atop you. Your cock quivers with need. She grips your cock and gently teases it over her needy clit. Her eyes dripped with lust, mirroring the slick sheen of her body. 

A moan of pleasure escapes her lips as she finally lowers herself onto your cock—a sound that’s hot and bratty, just as you’d imagine. Her arms remain around your neck as you sit upright, her body pressed close to yours, with her long hair cascading over her face, hiding it from view— you know she’s watching herself. 

It started off slowly. You, who was your first time, found it slightly uncomfortable at first, but as time progressed, where she began to change her pace, made you forget such thoughts. Her hips grinding against yours was all that mattered; you loved seeing both of your naked bodies pressed together.

“ Jenjang Y/N. neo jonna himdeureo (Fuck Y/n, you’re so fucking hard.)” She muttered close to your ear, sounding very tired— though her pace over you said otherwise, grinding faster. You didn’t understood a single word from her, probably her dialect on Korea, but her tone was enough for you understand that she was enjoying it. 

Throughout it all, you’re fucking her inside her car, savoring the feel of her orgasming pussy wrapped tightly around your cock with each thrust. Your hands pressed against her curves, feeling the sweat of her body, and supporting her while she gives a nice ride over your cock. 

You’re nearing your peak again, and she’s grinding against you faster now, loud moans escaping her lips. One arm stays draped over your shoulders while the other runs through her messy hair and then over her head. You enjoy the view of her sweaty body, and your hands find their way to her breasts once more. Her lustful eyes lock with yours, and she eagerly devours your lips. Her body presses harder against you, matching the rhythm of her fast grind.

“‘Shit!’ Rose gasps, her voice trembling with anticipation and broken by breathless moans. She’s approaching her peak as well, her body tensing with each thrust. Just before you can release, she quickly pulls away, raising herself and stroking your cock rapidly. Thick, white semen erupts from you, spilling out with each stroke as it travels down to her fingers. At the same, she runs her fingers over her clit, her own juices mixing with the mess on the floorboard.

Her mouth finds its way back to your cock, swallowing it deep and then licking the remaining semen from around it. It glistens with her saliva and your cum, but what you appreciate most is the sight of her face beside it, a hint of your semen at the corner of her lips. Fatigue is evident in her eyes—she looks ready to sleep, or maybe not, as she hints at the possibility of another round.

“Like that?” she asks softly.

“Who wouldn’t?”

“My exes,” she shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. “Maybe it was me, so I had to improve.”

“So I’m lucky to experience your improvement.”

“Kinda.” She rests her chin on your lap. “I’ve never slept with a guy without being in a relationship first. So, yeah, I guess so.”

[vamptizm]

WHITE CHRISTMAS — p. bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x gf!reader

synopsis: paige invites reader and former teammate—who doesn’t usually celebrate—to celebrate christmas with her family as her girlfriend.

warnings: reader doesn’t celebrate christmas. nonexistent family dynamics mentioned briefly. fluffy ass shit.

word counts: 3677

note: honestly i wrote this for everyone, but mostly for those who may not celebrate and still want to feel included in some way, since ik it can be hard to relate to the whole thing. (divider credits: dollywons)

The glow of the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows of your cozy apartment in Storrs, casting long, golden beams across the living room floor. A faint chill lingered in the air despite the heater's best efforts, and you found yourself wrapped in a thick throw blanket, idly scrolling on your phone while waiting for Paige to come home from practice.

The sound of her keys jangling at the door pulled you from your reverie. A smile tugged at your lips as she stepped inside, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. Her blond hair, still damp from the post-practice shower, clung to the edges of her knit beanie, and her usual oversized UConn hoodie dwarfed her frame. She looked like the embodiment of comfort and home, and as always, the sight of her brought an instant warmth to your chest.

"Hey, mama," she greeted you with a cocky smirk, dropping her duffel bag by the door and kicking off her sneakers. "Miss me?"

"A little," you replied, already opening your arms as she padded over to the couch. She fell into your embrace, settling against you with an exaggerated sigh, and you pressed a kiss to her temple.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, wrapped up in the quiet kind of love that didn’t need words. It was moments like these that reminded you how much your life had changed since you met Paige. She had made you feel things you never thought you could—security, belonging, and, most of all, an unwavering sense of being loved.

But then she shifted slightly, pulling away just enough to look at you, and you caught that glimmer of hesitation in her eyes. It was subtle, but you had been with Paige long enough to know when she was mulling something over.

"What's on your mind?" you asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

She hesitated, biting her bottom lip before exhaling a short laugh. "Okay, so, I've been thinking about something..."

Your brow arched, curiosity piqued. "That doesn’t sound ominous at all."

Paige rolled her eyes, though her smile remained. "No, it’s nothing bad. Just—well, Christmas is coming up, and I was wondering..." She paused again, glancing down at where her hands were now fiddling with the hem of her hoodie. "Would you want to come home with me this year? To Minnesota? To celebrate with my family?"

You blinked, her words settling heavily in the air between you. Of all the things you thought she might say, this wasn’t even on the list.

"Your family?" you repeated, as if you hadn’t heard her right.

She nodded, her gaze lifting to meet yours. "Yeah. I mean, you’ve met some of them before, but not like this. Not as my girlfriend." She gave you a gummy smile, scratching the back of her neck, and it was rare to see her this nervous around you. "I just thought... you know, since you don’t usually celebrate Christmas and you don’t have any family around... maybe you could join us. I want you to be there. With me."

Her words were earnest, but they left you momentarily speechless. Your mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and doubts tangling together in a way that made it hard to focus.

What if they didn’t like you? What if you said the wrong thing or did something awkward? You’d never had the kind of big, supportive family Paige talked about so fondly. What if you just didn’t... fit?

You realized you’d been silent too long when Paige gently nudged your arm. "Hey," she said softly, her tone laced with concern. "You don’t have to say yes. I don’t want to pressure you or anything. I just thought... I’d ask."

"Are you sure?" you managed to say, your voice quieter than you intended. "I mean, are you sure you want me there? It’s your family’s Christmas. It’s... important."

Paige’s brows knit together, and she reached out to take your hand, lacing her fingers with yours. "I’m absolutely sure, baby. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t. You’re important to me, and I want you to be a part of this. I want you to see what Christmas is like with my family—our traditions, the chaos, all of it. I want to share it with you."

Her words were a balm to your fraying nerves, and for a moment, you just stared at her, taking in the sincerity etched across her face.

"Okay," you finally said, the word slipping out before you could overthink it. "I’ll go."

Paige’s face lit up instantly, her smile wide and genuine. "Really?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering nerves. "Really. I mean, I’m probably going to embarrass myself at least five times, but I’ll go."

She laughed, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. "You’ll be perfect," she murmured against your mouth. "And even if you’re not, I’ll love you anyway."

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her close. "I guess I’ll have to trust you on that."

And as Paige melted into your embrace, her excitement already bubbling over as she started rambling about how much her family would love you, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something new in your chest.

The flight to Minnesota had been smooth, though the hum of anticipation in the air made the hours feel like they dragged on forever. Paige had insisted on sitting by the window, claiming it was her spot for every flight she’d ever taken, and you’d let her, settling in beside her while she pressed her forehead against the glass and pointed out things she thought looked cool from the sky.

“See that?” she’d said, her voice light and teasing as she gestured toward a cluster of houses dusted with snow. “That’s the exact size of the town you’ll move to when you retire from the league.”

“Wow, so you’re planning my entire life now?” you’d quipped, earning yourself a playful elbow to the side and that cocky grin of hers that you couldn’t help but adore.

“Our life.” The blonde casually corrected.

By the time you landed and grabbed your bags, the cold Minnesota air greeted you like a slap to the face. Paige, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, even as you shivered despite the heavy coat you’d packed.

“Not a fan of the cold, huh?” she asked, her tone dripping with amusement as she effortlessly swung her duffel bag over one shoulder.

“It’s fucking freezing,” you muttered through gritted teeth.

“You’ll survive, princess.” she said with a smirk, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your temple. “Besides, I’ll keep you warm.”

You rolled your eyes, but the words made your heart flutter all the same.

The drive to her family home was short, but every minute seemed longer as you sat beside Paige, nerves bubbling beneath the surface. She was chatting about something—probably basketball or some ridiculous story about her brother—but you could barely focus. All you could think about was what awaited you: her family.

You’d met some of Paige’s family before—her dad, her stepmom, and her little brother Drew. Drew, in particular, had taken to you almost instantly, which Paige always liked to tease you about, claiming he liked you more than he liked her. But this time, it wasn’t just about meeting her family as her friend or teammate. This was the first Christmas where you’d be introduced as her girlfriend.

The weight of that reality settled in your chest as Paige drove the rented car, humming along to a playlist she’d thrown together, her hand resting casually on the gear shift.

“You’re quiet,” she said after a while, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

You shook your head, offering a small smile. “Just… thinking.”

“Thinking about how I’m the best girlfriend ever?” she teased, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Because if not, that’s a missed opportunity.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the grin that tugged at your mouth. “More like wondering if your family’s gonna like me as much when they know we’re dating.”

Paige scoffed, her confidence radiating as she gave a dismissive wave. “You’re kidding, right? They already love you. Drew’s basically ready to ditch me and make you his new sister.”

“That’s different,” you countered, your voice softer now. “It’s one thing to like me as your friend or teammate. It’s another to know I’m… with you.”

Paige slowed the car slightly as she reached for your hand, her fingers threading through yours. Her thumb brushed against your skin, grounding you.

“Listen,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “They’re gonna love you no matter what. And if they don’t? Screw ’em. But I’m telling you—they will. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” She lifted your hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss on the cold skin.

Her words worked their magic, easing some of the tension in your chest. You nodded, squeezing her hand in thanks.

“Plus,” she added with a sly grin, “if anyone tries to give you a hard time, just remind them you’re a pro baller while I’m still a college kid. Instant power move.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. Paige always had a way of making even the most stressful situations feel manageable.

When you pulled into the familiar driveway, the house was exactly how you remembered it: warm, inviting, and buzzing with life. Snow blanketed the yard, and the glow of Christmas lights framed the windows like a postcard.

Paige barely parked the car before Drew came bounding out of the front door, his grin wide as ever.

“Finally!” he shouted, jogging over to your side of the car. “You guys took forever. I was about to send a search party.”

Paige rolled her eyes as she stepped out, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder. “Relax, we’re here now.”

You barely had time to grab your bag before Drew was pulling you into a tight hug, his excitement palpable.

“I missed you!” he said, his voice muffled slightly against your jacket.

“Missed you too, buddy,” you replied with a laugh, ruffling his hair.

Paige stood off to the side, hands on her hips as she watched the interaction with a mock scowl. “Unbelievable. I leave for, like, five months, and he acts like you’re the sister he hasn’t seen.”

Drew shot her a cheeky grin. “She’s way cooler and nicer than you.”

“Okay. Just forget everything I’ve done for you, i guess,” Paige deadpanned, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.

Inside, Paige’s dad and stepmom greeted you both warmly, the familiarity of it all calming your nerves. Her dad gave you a firm side-hug and a pat on the shoulder, while her stepmom hugged you tightly, telling you how good it was to see you again.

“It’s been too long,” she said, stepping back to look at you. “Paige hasn’t been hogging all your time, has she?”

“Just a little.” you replied, your voice light as you glanced at Paige, who was smirking.

“Good,” her stepmom said with a wink. “Well, make yourselves at home. There’s plenty of food, and Drew’s been asking about you nonstop.”

“Obviously,” Paige muttered, earning a playful shove from her brother as he led you both into the living room.

By mid-afternoon, the house was buzzing even more than before. Paige’s grandparents, aunts, uncles, and a handful of cousins started arriving, bringing with them an abundance of chatter, hugs, and bags full of gifts. You’d barely caught your breath from Drew’s relentless teasing and jokes when you were swept into a whirlwind of introductions.

Paige, ever the calm and collected one, had one arm draped over your shoulder as she led you through the crowd. Her confidence was a lifeline, her voice steady as she introduced you to each family member.

“This is my girlfriend,” she said, her tone casual but filled with quiet pride.

The word girlfriend made your stomach flip every time, but you kept your smile steady, offering polite handshakes and warm greetings.

Her grandparents, a kind and slightly mischievous older couple, were the most memorable. Her grandmother immediately pulled you into a hug, whispering, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” you replied with a soft chuckle.

“Mostly,” her grandfather teased, shooting Paige a wink.

“Grandpa,” Paige warned, though her tone was light.

“Relax, kid,” he said, patting her on the back. “You’ve got good taste. We approve.”

Paige smirked, her hand squeezing your shoulder as if to say, See? Told you.

When dinner rolled around, you were starting to feel more at ease. The dining room was packed, the long table barely able to accommodate everyone. You found yourself seated between Paige and Drew, with her cousins spread out on the other side.

Throughout the meal, Paige stayed close, her hand occasionally brushing against yours under the table. At one point, when you thought no one was looking, she leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You look so beautiful right now. Makes me wanna eat you, instead of the food.”

“You’re really leaning into this whole domestic girlfriend role, huh?” you teased, glancing at her.

“Gotta keep you impressed somehow,” she shot back, her eyes glinting with flirtatious amusement.

Her cousins caught the exchange, one of them groaning dramatically. “Can you two not be so cute? Some of us are single and bitter.”

Paige snorted, tossing a bread roll at them with pinpoint accuracy. “Not my fault you can’t pull.”

The laughter and chaotic banter that followed was enough to make your chest feel a little lighter.

After dinner, the family transitioned into games, with Drew and Paige’s cousins dominating the living room for an intense round of charades. Paige dragged you into it despite your protests, her competitive streak flaring up once again.

When it was her turn to act out a movie, she took your hand and pulled you to the center of the room with her.

“You’re my partner,” she declared confidently, ignoring the groans from everyone else.

The two of you worked seamlessly, your dynamic so natural that you guessed “Home Alone” within seconds of her miming setting traps. The room erupted in groans and applause, Drew shouting, “Unfair advantage!”

“What can I say?” Paige said, pulling you close by the hips. “We’re a dream team.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in her gaze made your heart skip a beat.

Later, after the games had ended and most of the family had settled into conversations or dozed off in various corners of the house, you and Paige snuck away to the kitchen for some peace.

The house was still warm and lively, but here in the quiet glow of the fairy lights wrapped around the window, it felt like your own little world.

Paige leaned against the counter, a cup of hot cocoa in her hands. You stood beside her, the hum of distant laughter and chatter wrapping around you like a blanket.

“You holding up okay?” she asked, her voice softer now. Void of any teasing and her usual smirk, that you swore could be heard.

You nodded, turning to face her fully. “Your family’s amazing. Overwhelming, but amazing.”

She smiled, setting her cup down to close the distance between you. Her hands found your waist, her thumbs brushing over the fabric of the sweater her dad had given you. It only made you feel part of her family even more.

“They love you,” she said simply. “I told you they would.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re always right,” you teased, your hands resting on her shoulders.

She smirked, her confidence returning in full force. “Don’t forget it.”

You laughed, but it faded into something softer as she leaned in, her forehead resting against yours.

“Merry Christmas, Ma.” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Merry Christmas, P.” you replied, your heart swelling as she kissed you, slow and sweet, under the soft glow of the lights.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged. And as Paige’s arms wrapped around you tighter, holding you impossibly close, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

You stirred awake at the feeling of soft, warm lips pressing against your forehead, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose. A groggy groan left your lips as Paige's voice cut through the haze of sleep.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” she murmured, her voice warm with amusement as she continued peppering kisses across your face.

“Too early,” you mumbled, turning your head to bury it in the pillow.

Paige chuckled, tugging the blanket off you just enough to crawl closer, her weight sinking into the bed beside you. “Come on, it’s Christmas morning. Presents are waiting, and Drew’s already downstairs losing his mind. You’re not gonna make me carry you, are you?”

You groaned again, cracking one eye open to meet her amused gaze. “You’d carry me if I asked.”

Paige smirked, leaning down so her lips hovered over yours. “You’re right. I would.”

The way her words sent a rush of warmth through your chest was enough to finally convince you to sit up, though not without a dramatic sigh.

“Fine, fine,” you muttered. “Let me brush my teeth first, though. You may love me, but morning breath is still a thing.”

Paige rolled her eyes but pulled you into a quick kiss anyway before hopping off the bed, smirking when you stared at her in mock betrayal. “Hurry up, or Drew’s opening all the presents without us.”

The living room was warm and bustling, the faint smell of cinnamon rolls wafting in from the kitchen. Paige’s dad and stepmom were sipping coffee on the couch, while Drew sat cross-legged near the tree, eyeing the stack of presents like a predator watching its prey.

“Finally!” Drew exclaimed when you and Paige walked in, his energy contagious. “Can we start now?”

Paige smirked, leading you to a spot on the floor near the tree. “Go ahead, dude. You’re first.”

Drew wasted no time, tearing through the presents from his parents and sister like it was a sport. The last box in his pile was from you, and he paused, glancing at you with a curious grin.

“This one’s from you, right?” he asked, already pulling at the paper.

“Yup,” you said with a nod, leaning back against Paige. “Hope you like it.”

The moment he got the box open, his jaw dropped. Inside was a pair of custom Nike basketball shoes in his favorite color, his jersey number stitched onto the side, along with a few small, personalized details—his initials, a subtle design of his favorite team’s logo, and a motivational quote you’d heard Paige repeat to him once during practice.

“Yo!” Drew exclaimed, holding the shoes up like they were a trophy. “These are so sick!” He jumped to his feet, throwing himself at you for a bear hug that nearly knocked you backward. “This is the coolest present ever! Thank you!”

You laughed, hugging him back. “I’m glad you like them, Drew.”

“Like them? I love them!” he said, grinning ear to ear as he slipped them on to admire how they looked.

Next, everyone unwrapped their gifts in turns, each one from you met with smiles, laughter, and gratitude. Paige’s dad unwrapped a sleek leather wallet with his initials engraved on it, while her stepmom gasped at the elegant bracelet you’d picked out for her.

Then it was Paige’s turn.

You handed her a neatly wrapped box, and she raised an eyebrow at the size and weight of it. Carefully peeling away the paper, she opened the box to reveal a stunning, customized Rolex. The watch gleamed with purple accents, subtle bedazzling, and an engraving on the inside of the band: ‘Time stops when I’m with you.’

Paige blinked, her usually confident demeanor faltering for just a second as she stared at the watch. Then her lips curled into a grin as she held it up to the light.

“You seriously got me a Rolex?” she asked, her tone hovering between amused and impressed.

You shrugged, biting back a smile. “I didn’t know what to get you. I spoil you with personalized and sentimental stuff all the time, so I figured I’d go all out for christmas.”

Paige leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You didn’t have to, but I’m not complaining. It’s perfect. Thank you, baby.”

Finally, it was your turn. There was a neat stack of gifts with your name on them, but Paige’s was the smallest—a tiny box that she handed to you with a smirk.

“Is this an engagement ring?” you teased, holding the box up dramatically.

Paige only smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Not yet,” she said, her voice steady and confident.

That response made your heart skip a beat, and you gave her a mock glare to cover up how flustered you felt. “Don’t say things like that so casually.”

You opened the box to find a gold necklace with a charm in the shape of a basketball, engraved with the date of your first game together at UConn.

“Paige,” you whispered, your fingers brushing over the charm as a lump formed in your throat.

“Do you like it?” she asked, watching your expression closely.

You nodded, unable to stop the smile that broke across your face. “I love it. Thank you.”

Paige grinned, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Merry Christmas, mama.”

The rest of the morning was spent surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the sound of wrapping paper being crumpled and tossed aside. And for the first time in years, you felt like Christmas truly had a place in your heart—thanks to Paige and the family that welcomed you with open arms.

[really-fanny-longbottom]

only in my dreams [part two]

summary: you turned off your emotions so you could protect your heart but at what price?

warnings: angst, mentions of unrequited love, curse words, blood and death.

pairings: azriel x reader

words: 8.9k

morning was here. 

you left emerie's house when the first rays of sunlight passed through the half-open bedroom window. 

your friends were still sound asleep when you pushed away their arms that tried to offer you some comfort during the night and got out of bed. 

you had no intention in waiting for them to wake up and having to talk about what had happened just a few hours ago. 

so you quickly changed your clothes and placed the backpack you had brought with you over your left shoulder.  

you didn't bother looking back when you left the room.

the front door closed behind you, and you found yourself facing the sun that was almost reaching its usual place in the blue sky. 

sunrise has always been your favorite part of the day.  

not only for the view, but also for its meaning — every time the sun rises, a new day comes with it, a new day that seems like a new blank page giving you a new opportunity to do your best and let go of the past on the day that was left behind. 

besides, being a healer meant that your day always started early, so why not start it with the best view ever?

when you lived with your aunt madja, you would go to the bridge over the sidra and sit on the wall and when you moved to the house of the wind you would go to your balcony and do the same.

you would close your eyes and tilt your head slightly upwards and immediately relax with the sunlight passing through your body and warming not only your skin but also your soul.

you don't know if it was because you're an empath but you've always felt a connection with the sun, as if you could feel its energy, it was as if the sun itself had emotions and was trying to communicate with you.

you loved how it made you feel.

but that was before.

now, standing in the doorway of emerie's house, as you looked at it, you didn't know what to do.

you stayed there for a few moments waiting for something to happen — for you to feel something.

but nothing came.

with a shrug of your shoulders, you turned your back on what used to be your greatest comfort and step by step you began to move away from it and the house.

as you walked, you didn't notice that the camp was starting to wake up, just as you didn't notice the sunlight fading away.

you winnowed as soon as you reached the edge of the camp.

••• 

twenty minutes later, you were in velaris about to arrive at your aunt's house to take a much-needed shower.

as you walked up the street, you didn't pay attention to any of the citizens who were opening their establishments and getting ready for a new day of work.

some of them tried to get your attention to greet you just like they always did. You would look at them with your eyes full of color and wave greetings with a warm smile, sometimes you would even stop and talk to some of them.

but not anymore.

now, you simply walked with an expression of indifference without removing your empty eyes from the path ahead.

you only stopped when an all too familiar voice filled the air around you — the voice of the last person you wanted to see right now. "y/n."

you could already see your aunt's house from here, and you were so close to getting there. 

slowly, you turned around and faced the person who had stopped you from reaching your destination.

it was the wife of the patient you lost yesterday with one of their sons by her side, both wearing mourning clothes.

"i'm sorry to bother you, but i saw you passing by, and i just wanted to thank you again for what you did for my husband yesterday." she told you with a weak voice, her eyes still red from the tears.

with a fake smile on your features, you ran a hand through your hair before telling her, "i was just doing my job. after all, that's what i'm paid for."

surprised by your reaction, the female lost her words and after a few seconds to compose herself, she cleared her throat and said "well, the funeral is this afternoon at three o'clock if you want to join us."

you laughed, and without a care in the world, you replied, "no, thank you. i have better things to do but have fun."

and with that, you turned your back on them and walked up the rest of the street before removing the small key from your backpack and entering your aunt's house.

the wife and son remained in their places, trying to understand what had just happened. 

••• 

after placing your backpack on the sofa, you started heading to the stairs towards the bathroom, but before you could, an irritated voice stopped you in your tracks. "where have you been?"

"oh, for cauldron's sake," you muttered and turned to find madja with her arms crossed and an angry face.

"i was with the valkyries. i spent the night at emerie's." you told her with a tone of annoyance.

"i'm aware of that. the high lord had the decency to send me a letter unlike you," madja scolded before continuing, her voice turning softer. "he also told me what happened about azriel." 

when she opened her mouth to speak again, you raised a hand and stopped her from it, "okay, auntie, it's too early for this. i'm going to take a shower and i'll see you at the clinic. okay. cool."

you used both hands to give the cool sign, but before you could step on the stairs, madja called you again. "wait."

"ugh, you gotta be kidding me," you whispered low enough for her not to hear.

you saw your aunt grab a piece of parchment and hand it to you. "this arrived for you a few minutes ago." 

when you unrolled it, you recognized nesta's handwriting. 

she was asking where you were. 

without hesitation, you crumpled the paper and threw it into the middle of the fireplace where it instantly began to burn.

"anything else?"

when your aunt didn't speak, you accepted her silence as an answer and started climbing the stairs by jumping two steps at a time. 

the bathroom door closed seconds later, and madja, who didn't know what animal had bitten you to react like that, put a hand to her forehead before muttering to herself, "what was that?"  

••• 

the clinic was very busy like almost every day but you never complained.

unlike other people, you could happily say that you liked your work. being a healer has always been a rewarding job. 

there was nothing else you enjoyed as much as helping your patients. heal them, make them feel safe, and heard. make them feel important.

your favorite days were the days you helped a new life enter this world. seeing those beings so small and innocent was the best miracle of life.  

but of course, like all jobs, yours also had a bad side. 

seeing your patients sick and knowing that in some cases there is nothing you can do to help, seeing them leave this life and the family they leave behind. 

there were patients who had left such an impact on you that from time to time, they appeared in your dreams. 

sometimes, you felt guilty at their memory because you felt like you could have done more, but most of the time, their memories reminded you to do better for others.  

but none of that mattered to you anymore. now you simply limited yourself to doing your job so you could get paid. 

you were finishing bandaging the knee of a boy who had tripped while running.

the boy had become a regular patient of yours, always finding a way to hurt himself, whether it is running or reading a book.

it was a simple wound that didn't require the use of your powers, so you cleaned, disinfected, and put a bandage on it.

your right hand held his injured leg while the other tried to wrap the bandage, when you finished and lowered his leg, you noticed that he had a bruise in the exact place where your hand had been just seconds before.

with your focus on the wound, you hadn't even noticed the bruise. you went behind the counter and grabbed a bottle of ointment that you had made last weekend and handed it to the boy.

"take this," you pointed to the bruise that had several shades of purple on his leg, "twice a day, one in the morning and one at night. if it starts to hurt, put some ice on it."

following the movement of your hand, the boy saw the bruise for the first time with a confused face "oh, i didn't even know I had that," he grabbed the bottle and with a toothless smile, he started heading towards the door but not without shouting first "thank you, y/n! i'll see you next week." 

"whatever" you let out a sigh and walked towards your chair to take a break but before you could your aunt directed you to the next patient. 

it was an old male who mixed up the plants in his garden and ended up using the wrong plant as a seasoning for his food.

he was slightly pale, nauseous, and had stomach pain.

"you mistaken a poisonous plant for a seasoning plant?" you asked as you examined him, judgment written all over your face and voice.

"yes, i know what it looks like," he explained between short breaths, "but it was an honest mistake."

"it was a stupid mistake." you answered him without hesitation.

you were too busy finishing your exam to notice madja's shocked expression, who had stopped what she was doing at the sound of your words.

"y/n!" She approached and scolded you. "you can't talk to patients like that."

"what? it's true. it's not my fault he's an idiot." you told her with frightening indifference.

at your response, your aunt put her hands to her head with a whisper of "by the mother," escaping between her lips.

she got closer to the patient and placed one hand on his arm before bringing the other to her chest and apologizing to him for your behavior.

the male, on the other hand, said, "it's okay, she happens to be right."

you scoffed "of course i am," you turned to your aunt and with an air of irritation you asked her "now, are you going to let me work or haven't you finished disturbing me yet?"

shocked by your words, madja didn't know how to react or what to say, so she limited herself to taking two steps back, giving you space to continue working.

she looked at you, trying to understand what was happening to you, because this type of behavior was not normal.

you had never spoken to her like that — you had never spoken to anyone like that.

you were sweet, attentive, and very polite. this was not the niece she knew.

she couldn't help but think that maybe this situation with azriel and elain was affecting more than you had let on.

plus, she was well acquainted with how much your emotions could overwhelm you. 

choking sounds broke the trance she was in, and her mind refocused on what was in front of her.

you had started the healing process in the patient, and your hand hovered over his belly in order to try to eliminate the poison, but something was wrong.

because the patient was now paler and bleeding from his mouth.

madja saw you stop and look at her. "i think the poison is stronger than i thought." you kept looking at her, no doubt waiting for her to react, but when she didn't, you couldn't help the sarcastic comment that escaped you. "are you waiting for him to die? because my arms are starting to get numb." 

that was enough to make her move and begin her own examination of the patient.

she frowned. did you really just say that? 

"are you sure you gave me the correct name of the plant you used in your food?" you asked the patient while using a cloth to clean the blood, irritation in your voice.

he simply nodded his head

"maybe the plant you used was in contact with another. are there any other poisonous plants in your garden?"

the male shook his head, his breathing more rapid.

your brain started working quickly trying to see all the possibilities and it was then that you turned to your aunt and found yourself saying "maybe it's because he ate a long time ago and that allowed the poison to spread. i mean, who knows how long this idiot ingested a poisonous plant?" 

madja didn't answer you and due to her silence, you removed your hands from the patient and met her gaze with your empty eyes and a bored expression in your features "okay, so you got this right? i'm hungry, so i'm going to take a break." and with a look of disgust, you walked away.

the old female's heart was beating very fast. she couldn't believe what she had just witnessed.

not just your words but also your actions.

maybe she had seen wrong. 

maybe what she saw and made her freeze before you caught her attention hadn't happened.

maybe she just imagined it. 

because it couldn't be.

could it?

•••

several days passed, and you continued to act strangely since the day you returned from illyria. 

madja was observing you now more than ever, and little by little, she began to assimilate all the differences that you now demonstrated, but the one that worried her the most until now?  

the reason she made you work behind the counter taking care of patient charts so you wouldn't have to interact with them medically. 

you weren't the niece she knew and loved so much, and she began to think that something else must have happened — something you weren't sharing with her. 

and if madja was honest with herself, you were starting to scare her.

your behavior continued to become increasingly strange — how you interacted with patients, the way you spoke to her, your 'new clothes', and your nights out.

not to mention what you had said to the family of the patient you lost a week ago. 

madja met them in the market when she went shopping for groceries, and when the widow told her what you had said them, she didn't want to believe that such insensitivity had come from you. 

she thought about asking the inner circle if they knew anything but after meeting the high lady on the street as she left her studio the other day, she informed madja that it had been almost a week and a half since any of them had seen or spoken to you. 

feyre also explained that both she and the others sent several letters to you, and none returned with a response.

not even nesta knew where you were these days. 

it was with this new information that madja's heart began to tighten more and more with worry. her sleep no longer came as it used to, and the feeling of calm that used to hover over her was gone. 

madja was well aware of your relationship with the older archeron sister, that she was not just a best friend but a sister.

so, why wouldn't you be talking to her? with none of them? 

•••

rita's was full as always — full of life, light, and music.

people danced while others drank and gamble. laughter, singing, and shouts of euphoria filled the air of the familiar bar. 

this has always been one of your favorite places to spend time with your family, not to mention that rita herself was a long-time friend.

good memories were formed on the dance floor with feyre and nesta, on the karaoke stage with mor, several shot battles with cassian that often ended with the two of you on the floor and too many card games with rhys and azriel where you took all their money.

whenever these memories surfaced, they warmed your heart and made you feel lucky to have these people by your side.

now, you felt nothing besides an emptiness in your heart, but at least your heart was whole again, and that's what mattered. 

you ordered your third drink of the night, and the moment you took the first sip, a deep voice was heard from behind you.

"can i join you, my lady?"

when you turned to find the owner of the mysterious voice, you couldn't hide the surprise on your face which you quickly replaced with a mischievous smile "well, well, well, look what the wind brought." 

your colorless eyes meet golden ones that belong to a male with fiery hair and a smirk that matched yours, displayed on his lips.

you let your eyes roam the male in front of you as you analyzed him. he wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons open, brown pants where his muscles were visible and black boots.

"eris vanserra," you held out your hand for him to shake. instead, he grabbed it and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

"lady y/n," he greeted, his eyes always fixed on yours. 

you let out a light chuckle as you ran your eyes over the male again as he took the seat next to you. "well, you look delicious." 

"i could say the same about you," he replied with a chuckle, and now it was his turn to look at your form.

you wore a simple black strapless dress that fit your curves perfectly with a slit in the skirt on your left thigh and a pair of silver high heels that matched your jewelry. 

eris ordered his drink, and after you hit each other's glasses with a small 'cheers', you asked him the question you wanted since your eyes had landed on him.

"you are far from home. tell me, what brings you to velaris?" you took a sip of your drink before continuing. "does rhysand even know you're here?" 

following your movements, eris took a sip from his own glass before putting it down, "i'm here because of him, actually. i had a meeting with him and his inner circle a few hours ago."  

"oh, and i thought you had come here just to see me," you said as you signaled the bartender to refill your glass.  

"that can be arranged," the heir replied as he took another sip without ever taking his eyes off yours. 

you cleared your throat after an unexpected heat warmed your cheeks. "i'm surprised he let you come here." 

eris chucked and turned around in his chair and faced you before resting one of his arms on the back of your chair. "i'm surprised i didn't see you at the meeting with the others. did you lose the invitation?" 

you let out a laugh as you tilted your head back slightly before meeting those golden eyes again. "nope, i just didn't want to go. those meetings bore me to death." 

eris's laughter rivaled yours and after losing yourself to the sound for a few seconds, you regained composure and found yourself saying to him "so, if the meeting ended a few hours ago, what are you still doing here?" 

the male stared at you for a few seconds and you noticed his smile weakened a little at your question but he was quick to hide it before answering you "maybe i wanted to see you before i left." 

"you mean you want to avoid beron." 

shock crossed the male's features, and when he opened his mouth to respond, you were quick to raise a hand towards him and stop him. "i'm an empath. reading people is kinda my thing, remember?" 

"right, sometimes i forget that," he picked up his glass again and turned it around a few times in his hand and this time he kept his eyes on the drink as he asked, "so, does that mean you've read me before?" " 

"yes." 

"and what did you read?"

"that this whole act of you being a bad, terrible and heartless male is just that — an act." 

his eyes finally meet yours, and you proceed. "that you care. that you love your mother and lucien more than you let on. and that you love your court and can't wait to get it out of beron's claws." 

"hm," eris leaned against the counter, and with a look of indifference on his face, he told you, "that's. . .accurate." 

a smile returned to your lips. your skills never failed you, at least not when it came to reading people.

"do you want to know what else i read?" 

eris gestured with his hand for you to continue, coming closer to the edge of your chair, you leaned slightly towards him before telling him "that you, eris vanserra," you placed a finger on his chest "you will be a better high lord than that terrible male ever was." 

eris swallowed the lump in his throat as you picked up your glass again and raised it towards him, making the heir follow your movement.

with a clink of glasses, you both drained your drinks, and a mischievous smile returned to your lips. "so, are you spending your night here?"

eris laughed, and as he placed some money on the counter for the night's drinks, he matched your smile, and with amusement in his voice, he asked you, "why? is that an invitation?" 

you added the same tone of amusement to your voice when you answered, "maybe." 

•••

you thanked the Mother that your aunt was working the night shift at the clinic and would only return in the morning. otherwise, this would be embarrassing — for her, at least. 

you walked up the stairs towards your bedroom with the male behind you. 

upon entering your bedroom, eris looked around, noticing that it was small but cozy.

a bed was placed in the corner with a wide window behind it, a bookshelf full of books on healing and romance novels was at the foot of the bed with an puff in front of it against the wall.

some paintings decorated the walls, several faelights lit up the small bedroom, and a desk was on the wall opposite the bed with a mirror on its side. 

what also didn't go unnoticed by eris was the pile of parchments you had on your desk.

"what's all this?" he asked as he pointed to it.

your eyes followed his finger, and you noticed  that the pile was now higher than yesterday 'madja must have added the ones that arrived this morning', you thought. 

they were letters from your friends. the ones they've been sending since you left illyria and have been avoiding them.

every day, new letters arrive — letters that you didn't even bother opening, let alone reading, so you collected them on top of your desk.

why? you still didn't know.

there was a morning when a letter signed by azriel was on the carpet at the entrance of your house — that one went right to the fireplace.  

with a shrug, you simply said "trash" and picked them all up and placed them in the trash can before leaning against your desk while eris sat on your bed. 

"you look different." the male's voice filled the bedroom.

"what do you mean?"

it was eris's turn to shrug before continuing, "you seem more. . .free." 

you chuckled, and as you ran a hand down your dress, you said, "i feel like that." 

there was a moment of silence, and you watched the heir as he looked at one of the paintings next to your bed.

your eyes fell on his body again, and with a thought coming to your mind, a feline look and smile took over your face. 

noticing the way you were looking at him, eris leaned on his forearms and shot you a bold smile. "what is that little head of yours thinking about?"

you laughed at his words, and as you approached him, you rested your hands on his thighs. "i have a question."

his smile grew even wider, and one of his eyebrows rose, and you took that gesture as your cue to continue.

your hands moved to his chest as you straddled his hips, "i want to know if what everyone says is true."

he placed his hands on your thighs and, in a whisper, asked, "what is?" 

you leaned into his chest and as you brushed aside his hair with your hand, your lips hovered over his ear "that the autumn males have fire in their veins and they also fuck like it." 

eris's body tensed beneath yours at your words, turning his smile into mischief, and the smell of arousal began to fill the small bedroom. 

"it's true." eris straightened up, taking you with him and pushed your hair behind your shoulders.

you intertwined your fingers in his fiery hair, and still in a low voice, you said, "i'm afraid i'm going to need proof," earning a few chuckles from him.

with a kiss on his neck and then another on his shoulder, you whispered, "why don't you show me?"

eris chuckled, and with his hands now on your waist, he murmured, "as you wish, my lady." before connecting his lips with yours. 

•••

several knocks on the front door woke you up the next morning. 

you let out several curse words as you went down the stairs only in underwear while you tried to button the white shirt that you stole from the male who was still sleeping in your bed. 

you only had time to button the last three buttons of the shirt before you reached the door and turned the handle to open it.

"oh, for caudron's sake," you ran a hand over your face before crossing your arms and leaning against the door. "what are you doing here?" 

the high lord of the night court was at your doorstep dressed in his usual black suit with his hands in his pockets.

"good morning to you too." rhys said with a look of indifference at your choice of clothing to open the door. 

 "what are you doing here?" you asked the question again. 

"you missed yesterday's meeting, and as you haven't answered any of our letters, i decided that perhaps it would be better to pay you a personal visit." he finished with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 

you ran a hand through your hair again before giving him an irritated look. "and you decided to come. . ." you stretched back to see the clock on the living room table "at seven in the morning?" 

"i went to the clinic, and you weren't there."

"today is my day off." 

he cleared his throat, ignoring the fact that your bra was showing, "why didn't you go yesterday?"

"i've been busy." it was your only answer.

rhys was about to speak again when someone's footsteps coming down the stairs reached both your ears. 

"do you have guests?" 

"she does, and he's really annoyed that you made her get out of bed at this hour." eris said as he stood right behind you in just his boxers. 

one of his hands went to your hip and the other to the door. “good morning, rhysand.” he said with a smile.

"eris." rhysand replied with an mask of indifference, but you knew that deep down, he was surprised to see him with you.

silence hung in the air as the two males looked at each other and you looked between them.  

the high lord broke the silence without taking his eyes of the autumn heir. "what is he doing here?"

with a shrug and an air of amusement, you replied, "eris wanted to see velaris."  

a laugh sounded behind you, and you joined him, and when you noticed the frustrated look of the male in front of you, you couldn't help but ask, "what? you don't like the view?"

"i can't say i do." rhysand answered with his eyes now meeting yours.

"well, that's a shame. maybe next time, think about letting me know you're coming before you show up at my door at seven in the morning." and with a fake smile dancing on your lips, you closed the door in his face. 

•••

madja continued to look at you from moment to moment, trying to understand you as she has been doing in the last few days without success.

you were working at the counter, updating patient charts, and you seemed so normal. It seemed like everything was fine.

but madja knew it was just an illusion.

the atmosphere between you was now stranger after her shift ended early, and she found you with a male on the living room couch a few days ago — not just a male but the heir of autumn.

you laughed at the situation while she didn't think it was that funny. in fact, she thought it was shocking, considering this had never happened before. 

her worry grew with each passing day. 

it was only when a letter from rhysand arrived at the clinic that morning informing that you were to appear at the townhouse for a meeting in the afternoon that the old female's heart relaxed for a moment. 

the high lord also took the time to explain in the letter that if you didn't show up this time, he himself would pick you up and carry you on his shoulder if necessary as this meeting was not optional. 

when you finished reading, you huffed and muttered a small "i'd like to see you try" before crumpling up the piece of parchment and throwing it in the trash can. 

you kept yourself busy at the clinic, and when the time for the meeting approached, you didn't bother finishing your work and going.

you simply continued doing your job and about twenty minutes later, when you returned to the counter, your eyes met violet ones. 

the high lord was now in front of you and with your biggest smile of innocence, you asked him "are you here for an appointment? or maybe you came to pick up some medicine?"  

rhysand faked a smile at your sarcastic comment — apparently you made a lot of those now. 

"where is your red-haired lover?" 

you looked down, and started looking in your pants pockets and when you finished, you met his violet eyes again before saying "not in here." 

The male sighed loudly and in a deep but calm voice said to you "the meeting started twenty minutes ago."

"i know," you said without ever breaking eye contact.

"and can you explain to me why i had to come here?"

with a hand gesturing around the waiting room where multiple patients were, you replied "as you can see i've been very busy. a lot of people don't have the choice to spend the day sitting around doing nothing." you finished by resting your head on your hands, which were on top of the counter. 

rhys furrowed his eyebrows, since when did you talk to someone like that?

at his confused look, you let out a dry laugh and, continued "i have no interest in going to the meeting, so i'm sorry you wasted your time in coming here, rhysand."  

"rhysand?" He asked dumbfounded as he saw you walk away from the counter and grab the next patient's chart before making your way to where a old female was seated.

he wasted no time in following you "since when do you call me by my full name?" 

you were quick to mutter "since you came here to be a pain in my ass" in response. 

and this was enough of a reality check to make the male stop in his tracks. rhys had received a letter from your aunt a few days ago informing him that you were different but he discard it since the events of that night were still recent. 

but now that he allowed himself to really look at you — he saw all the signs. not only in the way you were acting but also in your clothes.

you were always a warm and happy person and you reflected that in the clothes you wore with light and vivid colors. 

normally you always wore dresses or a skirt with a top as the days at the clinic required you to walk from one side to the other and that way you were more comfortable as you had explained once when cassian commented that you always looked like a princess. 

but now? now it seemed like the princess had been replaced by an evil queen.

leather pants covered your legs while a black strappy top was on your torso tucked into your pants and held up by a belt with silver details around your waist.

black high heels, eyeliner on your eyes and red lipstick on your lips completed the outfit.

you looked like a completely different person. 

'what the hell happened?' the question echoed through his mind before rhys gently grabbed your arm and turned you around.

he decided at that moment that this could — and would — be talked about later, the important thing now was getting you to the meeting. 

"y/n, we have a meeting to attend. let's go."

"i already told you that-"

before you could finish, rhys took the patient chart from your hands and handed it to a dark-haired healer that was passing by before crouching down and lifting you onto his shoulder with one hand still gripping your arm while the other reached around your legs to hold you. 

"rhysand! are you kidding me?" you said and started swearing as you hit his back with your free hand.

on your way out, both of you passed by madja and rhys assured her that he would bring you back home in a few hours.

the old healer felt more at ease knowing that you would be safe with your friends and despite the worry that filled her heart, she couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the sight of you on the high lord's shoulder. 

maybe this was exactly what you needed — a night out with your friends.

hope replaced some of the worry that she had been carrying these last few days, that after tonight, you would come back happier.

you would come back as the niece she knew.

••• 

"seriously, rhysand? are you going to carry me like this the whole way?" you asked with annoyance in your voice.

"yes," a hint of embarrassment crossed the male's face at the use of his full name. 

several curses were muttered in a low voice as the eyes of the citizens of velaris focused on you and the male who carried you, one of your arms still trapped in his hand. 

some citizens looked curious while others laughed, but they all whispered about the reason for such a view. 

"rhysand, people are looking." you mumble with a pat on his back.

"i know," were his words as he sent smiles and slight waves in the direction of his citizens, as if this were some kind of show — one he was enjoying too much for your taste.

using his daemati powers, rhysand sent a message to his family — a message warning them to prepare themselves.

••• 

"well, this is a new view." you heard cassian's voice when you and rhys finally entered the townhouse's living room.

rhys stopped in front of the couches where his family sat, some of them with drinks in their hands, "sorry it took so long. i had to walk." 

a tap on rhys' back sounded through the room followed by a small murmur of "prick" coming from you. 

"hey!" rhys tried to scold you at the same time you said "does my ass look good from back there?"

rhys sighed loudly, earning a few chuckles from the people in front of him.

they had been talking about rhys's warning before you arrived but they couldn't deny that your actions were funny despite the situation. 

"was this really necessary, rhys?" feyre asked with a small smile gracing her lips.

"believe me, it was." rhys began to gently place you on the ground before rising to his full height again and placing his hands in his pockets. 

you turned to face the rest of your friends and managed to catch the surprise that crossed their eyes when they saw you in your new outfit.

"hello," you greeted them with a slight nod. 

"you're late, girl. did you lose track of time?" amren asked you while drinking from her glass of wine.

"no, i just didn't want to come." you replied before grabbing the glass of whiskey that cassian was passing to rhys and sitting on the couch between nesta and elain. 

nesta turned towards you and said softly, "i've been trying to talk to you these last few days." 

"i've been busy." you said while lookinh away.

nesta furrowed her eyebrows at your behavior. 

she had received rhys's warning just like the others but she really thought things would be different with her.

that even though you were different with the others, you wouldn't be with her and that she would be the person to go through you, just like you did for her a year ago. 

when you saw nesta opening her mouth with the intention of speaking again, you were quick to cut her off "so, are we going to start this meeting or not? since i was dragged here like a sack of potatoes." you mumbled the last part.

the high lord cleared his throat before beginning "i had a meeting with eris the other day. apparently beron allied himself with the human queen briallyn who in turn allied herself with koschei." 

"we need to know beron's plans are with this new alliance and that's exactly what eris is doing. i'm going to meet with him again in two days and that's where you come in, y/n."

at the mention of your name, you looked at the male who was already looking at you. with a raise of your eyebrows, he continued "i need you to come with me to the meeting and read eris. i need to know if he is being honest or not." 

you chuckled "why would he lie?" 

"he has lied before." azriel spoke for the first time since your arrival.

you looked at him with a cold look, and everyone else could have sworn that the temperature in the room dropped when your colorless eyes met his.

"so have you." you didn't hesitate to respond.

you saw him flinch and stared at each other for a few more seconds before he looked away and you continued "so has everyone else in this room. except elain of course. perfect, sweet and innocent elain would never do that."  

you looked at the female with a fake smile and it was at that moment that you realized what was in front of you.

azriel and elain sitting on different sofas far from each other without any kind of physical or visual contact.

as you exchanged glances between the two, a smile began to form on your lips at the realization. 

lifting a finger you gestured between the two of them before trying to express your curiosity "what's wrong with the love birds?"  

when no one responded, it didn't take long for you to speak again. "trouble in paradise? oh, wait. i know. you finally remembered lucien." 

you saw azriel's jaw throbbing in frustration and as you were really enjoying this new view, you decided to continue.

you moved closer to elain and placed your arm around her shoulders before telling her loud enough for everyone to hear, "in my opinion, you should choose lucien. you know that rumor that autumn males have fire in their veins and also fuck like it?"  

you heard rhysand swear in the background, giving you a new smile and encouraging you to continue. "well, it's true. eris proved that to me the other night."  you winked in her direction. 

"y/n," rhysand called you out with his high lord voice. 

"what? it's the truth," you laughed and started to get up to leave.

upon seeing you get up, feyre was quick to gently grab your wrist and turn you towards her, she held your hand with both of her hands and said calmly "did you receive our letters?"

you looked at your joined hands before answering her "i did."

with a slight nod, she asked again "did you read them?" 

you looked at her and when you saw your friend's face, you let your guard down for a second and tried to read her emotions instinctively.

but then a movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

azriel was filling his glass and in sight of the male, you remembered why you did what you did to protect yourself.

for that same reason, you moved away from her touch and with a cold voice you gave her the answer she didn't want to hear.

"no, in fact, i throw them away with the exception of your letter, azriel," you turned to the male who froze in his place with your voice addressing him, "i burned yours." 

and with that you started to make your way to the front door with Rhysand behind you to take you home, just like he had told your aunt, leaving your friends shocked without knowing what to say about this new version of you. 

cassian followed you to the door and stopped you before you could open it. "you never came back to the house of wind."

upon meeting the general's eyes, after your interaction with feyre, you realized for the first time that where affection and love for your friends used to be was now empty. 

"i moved out. i'm living with my aunt again." a shrug accompanied your response. 

"why?" He asked you. 

the truth is that you felt embarrassed. 

embarrassed about that night.

embarrassed that you cried in front of your aunt and your friends.

embarrassed that you fell in love with a male who had no interest in you.

embarrassed that you let a male make you feel this way, that you gave him so much power over your emotions.

embarrassed by how weak you felt. 

but not anymore.

now you feel nothing.

and that's exactly how you wanted it. 

you didn't bother to answer him before turning your back on him and disappearing into the darkness of the night with rhys by your side.

••• 

the office door opened softly letting the light of the faelights fill the hallway. 

feyre slipped inside before spotting her mate standing in front of the desk with a book that by the looks of it must be very old as he inspected the pages.

"what is that?" feyre's voice echoed through the silent office, making her mate's violet eyes meet her light blue ones.

"it's a book about rare powers, it has several chapters about empaths. i borrowed it from helion after y/n came to the house." he explained with his eyes returning to the yellow pages.

feyre laughed lightly as she recalled how her friend had arrived at the residence. "you mean when you had to carry her here?"

rhys tried to laugh but a weak smile was all he could muster. the small gesture did not go unnoticed by the high lady, nor did the concern on the male's face.

"you're worried about her, aren't you?"

with a long sigh, rhys stood up to his full height and faced his wife, "very, something happened to her and we don't know what," as he crossed his arms over his chest, he leaned against the wall before continuing "she's different, she's insensitive and arrogant. that's not our y/n."

the last sentence made feyre's heart tighten a little — she felt it too. they all did and they all missed their friend. 

"did you notice the way she looked at azriel?" feyre asked, when she saw how you looked at the male, she thanked to the mother that she wasn't the one on the receiving end of it "it was like she never felt anything for him, like she hated him. It was scary actually."

rhys's eyes widened as the realization made its way through his mind. "like she didn't feel. . ." he muttered softly and approached the book again.

confused, the female approached the desk trying to figure out what Rhys had just realized, as he started flipping through the pages faster and faster.

feyre was surprised the pages didn't tear considering how old they were and how quickly they were being flipped through. 

"rhys?" 

the high lord stopped at a page and after reading it and rereading it several times, feyre heard his heart starting to race.

very slowly, rhys raised his head to meet his mate's eyes and with a low voice he finally revealed the reason for his reaction. "she turned them off."

"what?" 

his heart started to beat even faster "her emotions. she turned them off," rhys ran a hand through his hair making it even more uneven, "y/n turned off her emotions."

shock began to course through the high lady's body and she didn't hide it when she was invaded by it. "is that possible?"

at her question, rhys turned the book towards her and let her read the information he was still trying to process.

everything started to make sense.

"the way she talks, her clothes and the fact that she doesn't care about anything. . .all of this because-"

"because she doesn't feel anything." rhys completed for her.

as he opened his mouth to speak again, several knocks on the wooden office door interrupted him.

clearing his voice, rhys gave the order for the person behind the door to enter. 

it was quite late, with most of their family having gone to their respective rooms a few hours ago, but the couple couldn't hide their surprise when the person knocking on the door turned out to be Nuala.

"nuala? is everything okay?" feyre asked.

the half-wraith stepped forward and without revealing anything in her features, she replied "i'm not sure, high lady. i came to inform you that lady madja is in the living room and has asked to speak to the inner circle immediately."

even more confused than before, they both questioned why would madja be here in the middle of the night.

nuala continued "lady madja said it was urgent. it's about y/n."

at the mention of your name, two sets of chills went down the couple's spines and rhys was quick to give nuala a new order "wake everyone up." 

••• 

the inner circle met in the living room with madja among them.

rhys proceeded to explain what he had discovered about you just moments ago.

the book now sat on the old healer's lap as she reread what her niece had done with tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

madja knew something was wrong with you but she would never have guessed that this was the reason behind it. 

"so, she doesn't feel anything?" nesta asked. 

if this matter had been about anyone else, she wouldn't have bothered to show her sadness but you weren't anyone else.

you were her best friend — her sister.

"yes," feyre said with a lump in her throat.

the room fell silent as everyone tried to process this new information. 

in the corner of the sofa, cassian blamed himself for not having noticed sooner and not having done anything to help.

elain kept looking around the room with the feeling she was being judged and azriel was rethinking all the signs you had given him that he hadn't noticed.

"it's no one's fault," rhys' voice caught their attention but his attention was only on cassian, "we had no way of knowing this without that book we wouldn't even know this was possible."

the general hadn't even realized that his shields were down but his brother's words brought him comfort. 

"what do we do?" mor spoke for the first time since entering the room "how do we get her back?"

hurt flashed across rhys's face and before he could respond, madja did it for him. "we can't," all eyes turned to her and for the first time since they had known the healer, they saw her cry.

"y/n is the only one who can turn her emotions back on. it's up to her and only her," with new tears falling down her cheeks she concluded, "there's nothing we can do." 

feyre placed a hand on the old female's shoulder. "i'm so sorry, madja." 

madja let out a long sigh and before she could hesitate any further she said "that's not all. there's a reason i came here tonight."

"what do you mean?" cassian asked.

"y/n's personality isn't the only thing that has changed."

the room became tense and several breaths were held.

"what's that supposed to mean?" amren asked and if madja knew her better, she would have sworn she had just heard a hint of fear in amren's voice.

"i've been trying to figure out why for several days but this. . ." she pointed to the book, "this explains everything."

with all eyes focused on her, the old healer begin to explain "a few days ago i put y/n to treat a boy's knee. she grabbed one of his leg and when she put it down there was a bruise in the same place her hand was. she assumed she just hadn't seen the bruise before but that was because the boy didn't have any. i was the one who sat that boy in the chair and the only thing he had was the wound on his knee and nothing else. i would have noticed the bruise if he had it." 

"what are you trying to say, madja?" rhys asked, he could feel that with every word the old female spoke, everyone became more nervous. 

"after the boy," madja continued, "she attended to a male who had ingested a poisonous plant by mistake. when she used her magic to heal him, he started spitting blood from his mouth and became very pale. y/n thought that the poison was stronger than she thought but when i came to help the male. . .i managed to cure him without any problems." 

"madja, what are-" nesta tried to ask.

"i think. . .," madja ran a hand through her black hair, "i think when she turned off her emotions, i think it affected her powers too. when I saw her trying to heal that male, her powers weren't emitted by a white light like all healers." 

mor's voice shook as she asked "what was it?"

madja stared at the blonde female before telling her "darkness."   

several curse words passed through the room, increasing the tension that was already in the air.

"i think y/n gave the boy that bruise and i think when she tried to take the poison out of the male. . .i think she ended up spreading it." 

"over the next few days, each time y/n used her powers to heal the patients. . .they all got worse. eventually, i had to put her to work behind the counter so she couldn't hurt anyone else."

this new revelation of your powers only made a bad situation even worse and much, much more dangerous.

it is already quite dangerous for a person not to be able to feel anything as this means that they cannot distinguish right from wrong just as they cannot understand when to stop but to have their powers changed?

amren set down her glass of wine before speaking "if you think about it it makes sense," she began drawing all the attention to her "when she turned off her emotions, she turned off everything that was a part of her, including her own person."  

"what does this mean?" nesta asked with fear on her face not only for what this could mean but also for you. 

azriel was the first to realize with amren's words being the last piece of the puzzle he needed  "mother help us. madja, you're not trying to say that y/n is now a. . ."

the male couldn't find the strength to finish his sentence but it wasn't long before cassian continued where he left.

"a what?" he asked, eyes bouncing between his brother and the healer. "she's a what?" 

with a long sigh, madja said "y/n is no longer a healer."

no one was prepared for madja's next words.

they didn't know what to expect when she came to their house in the middle of the night but they never would have thought of this turn of events.

they would never have guessed that their friend's pain was so deep that it would cause this to happen. 

"y/n is a necromancer." 

a/n: thank you for reading!

[masterlist]

general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @littlelou22 @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @meul-a @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @mrsjna @lively-potter @meul-a @mrsjna @avajustreads @littlelou22 @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @dark-chaos-314 @agirlwithwifiandalaptop

taglist fic: @crazylokonugget @quinzzelx @cumuluscranium @i-am-infinite @rcarbo1 @romantasyreader28 @thegreyjoyed @whyshouldihaveanam3 @sheblogs @amysangel @meher-sumedha @paleidiot @skylarkalchemist @thestartitaness @romanoffslegacy @bookwormysblog @sandramalikstyles-blog

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[theonottsbxtch]

THE OTHER GUY PT.6 | FC43

an: and we've reached the final part of the series! i hope you guys have enjoyed this as much as i have, it was very fun to write and i can't wait to write something soon :) remember my requests are always open!!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five |

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 30,382 others

spain, i'll miss you 🥲

*tap to load more comments*

userone: spain yn was my fav yn

usertwo: is that franco? 👀

userthree: it's probably oscar or logan

oscarpiastri: i have an idea, i pay you to stay in spain for the rest of your life and you never come to the track again

logansargeant: i need her there, you're not a reliable source of gossip

ynpiastri: if you don't invite me, i have other ways of being there

userfour: franco? 👀

userfive: your honour i love them

lilyznimer: can't wait to see you again

ynpiastri: @/oscarpiastri HA SHE LOVES ME MORE THAN YOU 😹🫵😹🫵

usersix: yn, we're all here for franco confirmation. give it to us.

twitter

francolapinto

liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, ynpiastri and 985,352 others

back to work, i hate this country 🌧️

*tap to load more comments*

alex_albon: next time take me to spain too

francolapinto: yes boss

userone: no yn confirmation ☹️☹️

williamsracing: franco...

francolapinto: no amount of media training will make me lie about this country

usertwo: where's yn?

userthree: we want to see FRANYN!

userfour: she's in his likes. im connecting dots.

userfive: stop being delusional, you ain't connecting shit.

twitter

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, francolapinto and 29,453 others

me when i remember that i actually have a big girl job and living off of oscar's money in his spare room isn't actually what i do with my life.

*tap to load more comments*

userone: wife

usertwo: she has a job?? i thought she just went to gp's with oscar

ynpiastri: SHE has a masters in engineering design and technology 💅

userthree: cleared

oscarpiastri: move out please

ynpiastri: no 😁

userfour: still no franco

userfive: girl they both have full time jobs

usersix: MOTHERRRRR

logansargeant: you're a psycho for bringing your laptop to the beach btw

ynpiastri: i don't think i asked for your opinion, hope that helps lo! 😘

interview with franco colapinto

twitter

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, mclarenracing and 31,439 others

supporting my favourite mclaren driver (not oscar)

*tap to load more comments*

userone: I WANT TO BE HER

usertwo: I WANT HER

oscarpiastri: funny joke

logansargeant: or is it..👀

userthree: imagine living her life

landonorris: i thought your favourite driver didn't race for mclaren [this comment has been deleted]

userfour: she's so pretty

userfive: still no sign of franyn

twitter

twitter

francolaptino

liked by williamsracing, alex_albon, ynpiastri and 924,235 others

the only women in my life btw (not that anyone asked)

*tap to load more comments*

userone: oh😀

usertwo: i don't believe it

alex_albon: this guy

userthree: he's so unintentionally funny

williamsracing: how cute

imessage between logan and yn

twitter

twitter

ynpiastri

argentina

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, francolapinto and 31,435 others

would rather date traffic cone (holiday dump coming soon x)

*comments have been turned off*

offseason 2024

The golden Argentinan sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, amber glow across the quiet, coastal villa. His family home sat nestled on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the endless blue stretch of sea. The scent of saltwater drifted in on the breeze, mingling with the fragrant citrus trees that lined the garden.

You and Franco sat on a cushioned wicker sofa in the sunroom, the wide-open windows framing the breathtaking view. The room had a rustic charm—whitewashed walls, terracotta tiles, and soft, earth-toned furniture. His arm was draped lazily around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both idly scrolled through your phones, the sounds of crashing waves and distant seagulls filling the peaceful silence.

But neither of you were really focused on the phones. The fan speculations and social media drama had become a background hum—amusing, but distant. For months now, you’d both kept this secret relationship hidden, playing the game of cat-and-mouse with the public, teasing and trolling them into thinking you were still enemies.

“Do they really still think I hate you?” you muttered, your lips curving into an incredulous smile as you glanced at a fan comment. “I’ve done too good a job convincing them.”

He chuckled, his voice low and smooth as he leaned in closer to peek at your screen. “Well, you have been pretty savage online. You didn’t hold back with that last post, hermosa.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, playful. “Says the guy who told the press I’d have to beg for a date. I never forgot that one.”

He grinned down at you, his light brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “I mean, to be fair, you did tweet that you wouldn’t date me if I were the last man on earth.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “Touché.”

His laughter faded, replaced by a softer, more thoughtful expression. His fingers tracing slow, absent-minded circles on your arm, and his gaze shifts from the ocean outside back to you. The silence stretched out between you for a moment, and you could feel the weight of what’s unspoken.

“We can’t keep this up forever, you know,” he finally said, his voice quieter now, more serious.

You paused for a second, his words catching you off guard. You’d grown so used to the secrecy, to sneaking around and playing up the rivalry for the fans. It had become a game, but now, here in the warmth of his family’s sunroom, with the sea breeze gently ruffling your hair, the reality of your relationship felt different. Realer. More solid.

You sat up a little straighter, turning to face him fully. “What are you saying?”

He met your eyes, his lips curling into a small, meaningful smile. “Maybe it’s time we tell everyone. Stop pretending.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The thought of going public, of finally letting the world see what’s been building between you, sent a thrill through you. But it was also terrifying. What would people say? How would the fans react? You’ve been holding onto this secret for so long, the thought of exposing it felt almost... vulnerable.

Still, as you sat there with him, in this secluded little bubble away from the world, the idea didn't seem so scary anymore. It felt exciting. Liberating.

A slow, playful grin spread across your face. “If we’re going to do this, we have to do it in the most ridiculous, out-of-pocket way possible.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like what?”

You leaned back against the sofa, the sunlight warming your skin as the wheels in your head begin to turn. “Something so cheesy and over-the-top that people won’t even know if we’re serious or still trolling them.”

His lips quirked into a smirk, rubbing his chin as if considering it. “What, like one of those cringey TikTok couple challenges?”

You nodded eagerly. “Exactly. The kind of stuff that makes people cringe, but they can’t look away.”

He let out a low chuckle, clearly warming up to the idea. “You mean the ones where people do those obnoxiously cute couple things, like finishing each other’s sentences?”

You grin. “Exactly. Go so hard that no one can tell if we’re serious.”

He leans forward, grabbing his phone from the coffee table. “I like it. Let’s do it.”

You blink, a little surprised at how quickly he’s jumping on board. “Wait, right now?”

He shrugs, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Why not? We’ve kept this quiet long enough. Let’s have some fun.”

Your pulse quickened with a mixture of excitement and nerves as you both adjusted your positions on the sofa, sitting up a little straighter, leaning in close to each other. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and you could feel the warmth of his body against yours. The soft hum of the waves and the distant calls of seagulls faded into the background as the moment intensified.

“Alright,” you said, barely keeping a straight face, “let’s do this.”

He raised his phone, the camera pointed at both of you, and the screen lights up, casting a soft glow on your faces. “First question,” you began, doing your best over-the-top rom-com voice. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

He smirked, nudging you playfully. “Easy. You did.”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. “I did not! That was totally you.”

The playful banter flowed easily, the chemistry between you undeniable. The air between you crackled with tension, but the laughter kept things light. Each question grows sillier than the last, your teasing jabs masking the real emotions simmering beneath the surface.

As the game continued, the joking faded. The answers become more meaningful, more intimate. He reached out and takes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and the teasing spark in his eyes shifted into something softer.

Then, as if the playful mood couldn’t hold any longer, he lowered his phone and set it down on the coffee table, turning to face you fully. His gaze was intense, his eyes locking with yours in the fading sunlight. “Maybe we should stop messing around and just... tell them.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “For real?”

He nodded, his voice a little quieter, a little rougher. “Yeah. I’m tired of hiding. I want people to know.”

You hesitated for a second, the weight of the official decision settling in. But then, a surge of boldness rose within you. “Okay. Let’s do it. But first—” You held up your phone, turning off notifications before tossing it onto the sofa. “I don’t want to deal with the chaos immediately.”

He chuckled, grabbing his phone, posting the video and then,following your lead and shutting off his phone. “Smart. We’ll get spammed for sure.”

Once the phones were off and forgotten, you exchanged a glance, and then both of you dissolved into laughter, the weight of secrecy lifting off your shoulders. The relief, the excitement—it was overwhelming in the best way.

As the laughter died down, the air between you shifted slightly, becoming heavier, charged with something far more intense than before. His eyes darkened as they traced the curve of your lips, and your breath hitches, feeling the pull between you like a magnetic force. Neither of you speak for a long moment, the silence thick with unspoken desire.

Without warning, he leaned in, his hand sliding up to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing tenderly along your cheek. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart pounded in your chest, anticipation crackling in the air around you. He was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the scent of his cologne mixing with the salty sea air.

Your pulse quickened as his gaze locked with yours, and for a second, time seemed to stop. Then, he closed the gap, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, yet filled with an undeniable hunger. His lips were soft but firm, moving against yours with a heat that left you breathless.

You responded immediately, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, needing more. His kiss deepened, and the intensity built. The taste of him is intoxicating, like you had both been waiting for this moment for far too long. His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, and you could feel the strength of his body against yours.

The kiss grew more urgent, your bodies pressed together as if the space between you was unbearable. His fingers threaded through your hair, holding you in place as he kissed you harder, deeper, like he couldn't get enough. You lost yourself in the sensation—the way his lips devoured yours, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, the low, barely audible groan that escaped from deep in his chest.

As you kissed him back with equal fervor, your entire body tingled, your senses overwhelmed by him—the way his hands gripped your waist, the way his lips tease and explore yours.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were panting, your hearts racing in sync. His eyes, dark and full of desire, met yours, and a slow, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Guess I can do that more often now,” he murmured, his voice husky and low.

You smiled back, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “With my brother in that same paddock? Not a chance?”

francolapinto and ynpiastri

liked by logansargeant, schecoperez, oscarpiastri and 984,348 others

it wasn't a joke btw

*limited comments only*

williamsracing: franco...

oscarpiastri: that's my sister pal

francolaptino: oops?

logansargeant: this hurt more than my replacement

ynpiastri: shut up?

logansargeant: yes ma'am

the end.

taglist: @iimplicitt @isaadore @iamred-iamyellow @justheretoreadthxxs @obxstiles @how-what-why-huh @raizelchrysanderoctavius @sainzzreputaticn @xxx-betty @dukeofjjune @dejavuontrack @littlegrapejuice @mxdi0 @st4rgirl-ellie @dullypully @cinderellawithashoe

[shrimpybbq]

green thumb

synopsis: high school gf loves her veggie garden and so does charlie. rafe is clueless and lacks a green thumb, but does his best to be supportive.

The warm sun shone through the windows of the Cameron house, it’s rays casting a golden hue across the spacious living room that currently housed half of the aforementioned Cameron family. The tall frame of Rafe Cameron lay horizontal on the plush couch, his arms wrapped protectively around the small baby atop chest. His sweet little girl had only been born a few months ago, but she was already growing too fast for his liking. Each day was so precious to Rafe, knowing Emmy would never be this small again, so he cherished the mundane moments like this one, letting her use his chest as a mattress for as long as she wished. He basked in the rise and fall of her chest, the little grunts she let out as her dreams took place.

Rafe had been on the couch for an hour or so, letting his wife spend time with Charlie. The young boy loved his sister, but becoming a big brother was challenging. He was no longer the main focus of his parents and growing used to sharing the attention had been troubling for the boy. He would pout when his mother left his side to feed his sister, clinging tearily to her sleeve. It broke both Rafe and his wife's heart, and the pair knew they needed to do something to make Charlie know he was still just as important as before. That was when they noticed how much the little boy loved his mother's veggie garden. He was always trying to follow his mother outside, eager to play in the soil and spend time with his favourite person.

Each morning, the young mother would climb out of bed silently, her footsteps softly padding across the carpet in an attempt to not disturb the sleeping baby in the room. A soft kiss to her daughter's forehead before she disappeared outside to her veggie garden. At Tannyhill, the girl had grown a few herbs - chives, rosemary, thyme - that sort of thing. Rafe had never really noticed until one day he caught her sneaking out, and thinking the worst he followed her. He had frozen when instead of seeing her leaving the property or meeting another man, she had crouched down in front of the old neglected herb garden. Rose had tried to grow some herbs at one point before giving up on her faux housewife act, and Rafe had never really paid attention to what remained. His curiosity peaked as he watched his girlfriend gently water the soil and pat it in place, humming quietly to herself. Content with knowing her whereabouts, Rafe quietly stalked back indoors, tucking the knowledge away in his mind.

When the family moved to their new home, he decided to surprise his now-wife with a special section in the backyard just for her. He'd spent a few hours one morning while she was in town building planter boxes, filling them with soil and setting up a hose nearby. Rafe was so excited to surprise her once she returned home, covering her eyes with his hands as he led her out to the yard. Little Charlie sat on her hip despite her pregnant belly, his hands clinging to his mother.

"Hey-hey! No peeking! Don't you dare," Rafe muttered as she tried to move her head away.

"Just tell me, please?" She begged, growing impatient. It didn't help that Rafe's guiding skills left a lot to be desired.

"Just know that you're gonna like it, 'kay?"

When his hands dropped away from her eyes, she gasped softly. The perfect little garden set-up stood in front of her, all ready to go. Eyes wide, she turned to Rafe.

"Wha- how, I- how did you know?" She questioned incredulously. No-one had ever done anything like this for her. Rafe grinned down at her as his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his frame.

"I have my ways," he drawled cheekily, "I did good, huh?"

He watched as she nodded, turning to Charlie, "Should we go have a look?" The little boy nodded and Rafe stood on proudly as his wife and son went to investigate the new garden.

Rafe noticed Emmy stirring, the girl beginning to grumble as her hunger grew. He knew she needed to be fed or soon, the whole neighbourhood would hear the girl's screams. As he slowly pandered out to the yard, his eyes fell upon his wife and the small blond boy crouched at her side. With a watering can in one hand, Charlie gently delivered water to the small carrot and tomato plots. He squealed in excitement as his mother praised him for his effort, gently patting the soil around the growing vegetables as she did the same. Rafe looked at the two proudly, wishing he didn’t need to interrupt them, but alas, little Emmy began to whine loudly, catching the attention of her mother. She turned around quickly to see the small girl baby tucked securely in her father’s arms, and stood up.

“Hungry?”

“Don’t you know it,” Rafe grunted. He handed Emmy over to his wife’s outstretched arms.

“She’s just like you, never full,” she sighed, exasperated, before undoing the oversized button up of Rafe’s she wore.

The pair settled into a moment of comfortable silence as their daughter latched, her little hands reaching to cling to the shirt lapels. Calm spread but only for a moment.

“Daddy! Look! Strawberry!” Charlie shouted. Rafe stalked over to his son and crouched down to match his height. It was almost comical to see such a tall man make himself so small, especially when he couldn’t control the expression of slight discomfort covering his face.

“Wow bud, look at that… did you and your mama do that?” Rafe grinned as Charlie nodded, pleased with himself. Rafe had never fully been able to get into the groove of gardening, finding the waiting too painful to ever properly enjoy the art. But for his son, he would do anything - and so he played along. He would ask questions, get his son to show his new plants, praise his little sprouting vegetables and make sure his son knew he was proud of him. He wasn’t above forgetting which seed plot was which, but he tried. For a few moments, silence blanketed the family as an engrossed Charlie continued to tend to him plants.

“Mama and I have carrots too!” The boy exclaimed.

“Oh yeah? When are we gonna eat them, little man? How much longer until they’re ready?” Rafe asked, reaching his hand out to steady Charlie as he began to lean over the garden. Charlie looked up at his mother questioningly, the woman now seated on the bench nearby. She hummed softly as she thought for a moment,

“Maybe another month or two? We only planted them last week, C.”

The boy returned his gaze to Rafe, smiling at his father. Rafe looked down at his mini-me, sighing as he picked the boy up in his arms, standing and walking over to his wife. She had finished feeding Emmy now, and had the sweet little girl resting against her chest.

“Good thing we still have a grocery store nearby, huh?” Rafe chuckled, “Not gon’ starve.”

He grimaced at the sudden pinching sensation against his bicep, High School Gf sending a glare to him as she pulled her hand away. Shit.

“But hey - once those carrots are ready, we should make a big salad. You know that one you like, bud? We can make it for dinner one night. How’s that sound?” The momentary anxiety was evident in the way Rafe quickly spoke, desperately hoping to avoid a meltdown from the toddler. He was at an age where his sensitivity was high.

“Promise, daddy? And we have ice cream after?”

Both Rafe and High School Gf exhaled with relief. Crisis averted. Rafe nodded down at his son and when the boy extended out his pinky finger to affirm their promise, he grinned.

“Pinky promise, C.”

the pure domesticity of this would be sickening to the old rafe lol

[meleeyz]

୭ 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗙𝗜𝗫 ˚. ᵎᵎ 

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ Bro is going to fix the mess he made with his family from another dimension 🙏

୨୧ This is not exactly the result of what I wanted but it works ;)

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

The sun dipped below the horizon, its last golden rays painting the sky in soft shades of pink and lavender. The walk back felt longer than usual, the weight of the day pressing on your shoulders. The afternoon had passed in a whirlwind of preparations for Violet’s birthday—small, meaningful plans to make tomorrow special.

But now, exhaustion clung to you like a second skin. Inside the house, the warmth of home embraced you. Dinner had been a blur—a simple meal shared with your children before they yawned and rubbed their eyes, ready for bed.

After clearing up, you found Wyeth in his room, the soft glow of his bedside lamp casting a gentle light over the space. He sat cross-legged on his bed, with his broken rocket cradled in his small hands.

You paused in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight. His furrowed brow and the way his little fingers traced over the toy’s worn edges tugged at your heart. Quietly, you stepped into the room and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Hey there, sweetheart," you said softly, brushing your hand over his cheek.

Wyeth looked up at you, his wide eyes searching your face for reassurance.

"Mommy," he began, his voice a small whisper. “Is Daddy mad at me?”

The question caught you off guard, but you schooled your features into a gentle smile.

“Mad at you?” you asked, feigning lightness. “Why would you think that?”

His shoulders slumped, and he set the rocket aside, its bent fin catching the lamplight.

“I’ve been bad lately,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “Maybe that’s why…”

“Sweetheart, no.” you interrupted, leaning in to cup his face in your hands. “Daddy isn’t mad at you. He’s just tired, that’s all. He’s been working really hard and sometimes when grown-ups work too much, they get a little grumpy. But it’s not your fault, okay?”

Wyeth hesitated, his small brow still creased, but eventually he nodded.

“Okay” he whispered.You smiled and kissed his forehead, lingering just long enough for him to feel the warmth of your love.

“Goodnight, my little rocket man. Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight, Mommy,” he murmured, burrowing under his sheets and clutching his blanket close.

You stood, dimming the lamp as you left the room, glancing back to see him already drifting off, the broken rocket abandoned beside him.

In your own room, the silence was heavier. You moved through the motions of preparing for bed, your body exhausted but your mind far from settled. As you pulled back the covers, your eyes flicked to the window. Outside, the night stretched endlessly, dark and quiet. Still, there was no sign of Ekko.

A sigh slipped from your lips as you turned to Violet’s crib. You smiled faintly. She slept soundly, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, her soft coos occasionally breaking the quiet.

Finally, you climbed into bed. The room felt emptier than it should, the absence of Ekko gnawing at you in ways you didn’t want to admit. Your thoughts lingered on him, on the tension from earlier, on the strange distance that had settled between you. As sleep began to pull you under, you found yourself hoping that, come morning, things would feel a little less heavy.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

The house was quiet as Ekko slipped inside, the soft creak of the door barely audible over the hum of crickets outside. He paused in the entryway, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, his breath hitching as he looked around.

He had to ask Heimerdinger where his own house was. The thought stung, but as he stood there, surrounded by warm tones and small, comforting touches, a sense of belonging crept in. This was his home—at least, it was for the Ekko who lived here.

The garden outside had been beautiful, a serene patch of green dotted with soft, colorful flowers and lanterns. Inside, the air smelled faintly of lavender and something sweet, a scent that grounded him as he moved deeper into the house.

Pictures lined the walls and shelves, drawing his gaze. Each frame seemed to tell a story, a life lived in a world so far removed from his own. His steps slowed as he reached for one in particular: a photo of his wedding day.

The image stopped him cold, his stomach flipping in a way he hadn’t expected. You looked radiant, your smile wide and bright as you leaned into him, your hands entwined. Ekko—this Ekko—was grinning from ear to ear, his expression caught somewhere between elation and disbelief.

His fingers brushed over the ring on his finger. He could tell it was handmade—gold, with delicate carvings of fireflies and his hourglass symbol etched into its surface. Of course, he thought. He probably made it himself, ensuring it was worthy of the person he gave it to. You didn’t deserve anything less.

Ekko chuckled softly, shaking his head. He’d thought about his wedding day before, in fleeting moments between battles and responsibilities, but it always felt like a distant dream. Something he could never afford.

He moved to another photo, this one capturing the moment of Wyeth’s birth. You were in a bed, holding a tiny, wrapped in blankets, your face glowing with exhaustion and joy. Ekko stood beside you, his grin wobbly and his hair a mess, like he’d just finished pacing the room for hours. He could imagine exactly how that had gone—nervous energy radiating off him, snapping at anyone who told him to relax, only to apologize afterward.

Ekko swallowed hard and tore his gaze away, continuing up the stairs.

The walls of the staircase were covered with more pictures. Wyeth as a toddler, clutching a makeshift artifact in his hands; Violet giggling in a field of wildflowers, her chubby cheeks and wide eyes making her look like the cutest baby in the world.

His steps slowed as his chest tightened. The memory of what he’d said earlier came rushing back

Why did I say that?

It wasn’t true. He knew it wasn’t true. You were his wife, those were his babies, and he didn’t doubt that. Not for a second. But the words had spilled out of him, born from the confusion and guilt swirling in his mind.

He clenched his fists, a wave of self-loathing washing over him. He hated the thought of you thinking, even for a moment, that he didn’t want this. That he didn’t want you. He had to fix it. He had to make it right.

When he reached Wyeth’s room, he cracked the door open just enough to peek inside. The boy was sound asleep, curled under his blankets with the broken rocket still resting on the nightstand. Ekko exhaled softly, relief mingling with guilt. He hoped he hadn’t confused the kid too much with his words earlier. Wyeth deserved better.

And then, an idea struck him.

If he wanted to make things right, he couldn’t just apologize. He needed to show you—show all of you—that he was here, that he cared. That no matter how he got here, this was his family.

Ekko closed the door as quietly as he could, slipping back downstairs with a newfound determination. He paused only to glance at the pictures on the wall one more time, steeling himself. Then he slipped out the front door, heading toward Powder’s hideout.

The night air was cool against his skin as he moved through the streets, the city was quiet but alive. He didn’t care if Powder hated him for waking her up; this needed to happen. He couldn’t wait until morning.

By the time he reached the hideout, his heart was pounding—not from exertion, but from the resolve burning inside him. He knocked softly at first, then a little harder when there was no answer.

“Powder,” he called in an urgent cry. “I need your help.”

It didn’t matter how late it was. Ekko wasn’t leaving until he fixed things.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

The morning light filtered through the curtains, warming the room with its golden glow. You stirred slowly, the weight of sleep still heavy on your body. Your hand reached out instinctively, seeking the comforting presence of your husband, but the bed beside you was empty.

The absence hit you harder than you expected. Memories of the previous day lingered in your mind, his words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. You sat up, running a hand through your head, trying to shake the uneasy feeling creeping up your spine.

It wasn’t until you glanced toward Violet’s crib that the unease turned to panic.

It was empty.

Your heart raced as you threw off the covers and bolted out of the room, your bare feet padding quickly down the hall. The first place you went was Wyeth’s room, pushing the door open with trembling hands.

“Wyeth?” you called, your voice shaking slightly. “Sweetheart, are you in here?”

But the bed was empty, his blankets neatly tucked at the edges.

Your chest tightened. Where were they?

“Violet?” you called, louder this time, your voice echoing through the house as you hurried down the stairs.

You rounded the corner into the dining room, your mind spinning with worst-case scenarios, and froze.

Ekko sat at the table, a knowing grin on his face. A bouquet of fresh flowers sat in the center of the table, their pastel hues soft and welcoming. Beside them was a spread of breakfast—pancakes, fresh fruit, and coffee—all laid out with surprising care.

“Morning,” Ekko said, his tone teasing, as though he hadn’t scared you half to death.

Your panic hadn’t completely subsided.

“Where are the kids?” you demanded, your voice sharp.

His grin widened, his dark eyes dancing with mischief.

“It’s a surprise,” he said simply, leaning back in his chair as if to emphasize how utterly unbothered he was.

Your brow furrowed, a mix of frustration and confusion bubbling to the surface.

“Ekko—”

“You’re cute when you’re worried,” His gaze swept over you, lingering on your sleepwear, and his grin turned decidedly more suggestive. “By the way, you look… incredible this morning.”

Your cheeks burned as his eyes trailed over you with that familiar, almost predatory glint you’d come to know all too well. It was the kind of look that once made your stomach flip in a good way, but now? It just left you reeling.

“Ekko, stop,” you muttered, looking away in an attempt to regain composure. But his playful chuckle made it clear he wasn’t about to let it go.

“Stop what?” he teased, his voice dropping slightly. “Admiring my wife?”

You shot him a sharp look, your emotions tangled in a confusing mess of frustration and something you couldn’t quite name.

“You’re confusing me so much,” you said finally, your voice quiet but firm.

His laugh was soft but rich, and it only made your frustration deepen.

“Good. I like keeping you on your toes,” he said with a wink, leaning forward slightly.

You exhaled, exasperated, wondering not for the first time, What is wrong with this man?

“I’m just trying to make things right,” he said as if he read your mind, his voice softening slightly.

The sincerity in his tone made your heart skip a beat. You wanted to be mad at him, to demand answers, but the warmth in his eyes made it difficult.

Ekko reached for the coffee pot, pouring you a cup with an easy grace that only confused you further.

“Eat first,” he said, sliding the plate of pancakes toward you. “Then I’ll tell you everything. Promise.”

You hesitated, but the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sight of his earnest smile made it hard to argue. You sighed, picking up your fork. Whatever he was up to, you’d get to the bottom of it soon enough.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

If you thought you were confused before, Ekko’s antics that morning had turned your head into a whirlwind of questions. After changing into a simple but comfortable outfit, you found yourself blindfolded by your husband, his hands gentle yet firm as he secured the cloth over your eyes.

"Ekko," you began, your tone edged with exasperation, "what are you doing? We don’t have time for this. We need to get to The Last Drop and finish setting up for Vi’s birthday."

"Relax," he said smoothly, the grin evident in his voice. "I already have it covered. Trust me."

You sighed, a grunt of disapproval slipping past your lips as he guided you forward with a hand on your arm.

"Trust you? Ekko, you’re lucky I love you."

"Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it," he teased, laughter bubbling in his throat.

You kept up a stream of complaints the entire way, though your protests were punctuated by the occasional chuckle or muttered threat. His laugh echoed through the space as he steered you with careful precision. After a while, you noticed something odd—your voice echoed more than usual.

"Wait," you said, your pace faltering.

"Are we in the sewers? Ekko, you better not—"

"Shh," he interrupted, and before you could finish your thought, he stopped you. His hands brushed your shoulders, and with one swift movement, he removed the blindfold.

Your breath caught in your throat.

The scene before you seemed to be pulled from the pages of a fairy tale. The air was alive with fireflies and butterflies flitting between the lush greenery. Birds chirped softly from branches above, and in the center of it all stood an enormous tree, its wide canopy casting dappled light over the ground below.

You turned to Ekko, your mouth slightly open in disbelief, but he simply smiled, gesturing for you to take it all in.

Before you could say a word, several silhouettes approached. The first to come bounding into view was Wyeth, his grin stretching from ear to ear. He ran straight to you, wrapping his arms around your legs.

"Mommy!" he exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. "Look! Daddy fixed my rocket! He made it better, and now it can fly without breaking anything!” He held up the toy, his joy infectious.

You crouched down to admire the handiwork, running your fingers along the rocket’s smooth edges as Wyeth babbled on.

“And we climbed the tree, Mommy! It’s so tall! You should come see!”

A voice behind him interjected playfully.

“Let your mama breathe, rocket man.”

You looked up to see Powder striding toward you, her blue hair styled into two playful space buns. She carried Violet in a baby carrier strapped to her chest, the little girl now clad in the pastel green dress Powder had shown you the day before. A delicate butterfly charm nestled in her curls added the final touch to her outfit.

"Happy birthday, my sweet Violet," you cooed, leaning in to kiss your baby’s cheek. Violet giggled in response, her tiny hands reaching for you.

“She’s been in full princess mode all morning,” Powder said, rolling her eyes affectionately.

You smiled as you looked around again. Decorations were everywhere—streamers in bright, cheerful colors, balloons that bobbed gently in the breeze, and a large table set up beneath the tree, big enough to seat the whole family. Your heart swelled at the sight.

"Ekko," you began, standing and turning to your husband, "what is this all about?"

He stepped forward, taking your hand with an easy smile.

“What do you mean?” he said, his tone light. “It’s Vi’s birthday, isn’t it?”

You raised an eyebrow, suspicion tinging your voice.

“Right. And you did all of this?”

“Of course,” he said, leading you gently past the table and toward the other side of the massive tree. “Come on. There’s one more thing I want to show you.”

As you rounded the tree, your breath caught again.

There, painted across a wide section of the bark, was a stunning mural. Vibrant colors swirled together to create a picture of your family—Ekko, you, Wyeth, and Violet—all smiling and holding hands beneath the glowing canopy of the tree. The fireflies painted around the edges seemed to dance, their light giving the mural a soft, almost magical quality.

You stepped closer, your fingers brushing over the bark.

“Ekko…” you whispered, unable to find the words.

He smiled, his hand coming to rest lightly on your waist. “It’s us,” he said softly.

“My wife, our babies, and me. The people who mean everything to me.”

You turned to him, emotions swirling in your chest, but before you could respond, he took both of your hands in his. His expression turned serious, his eyes locking onto yours.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, his voice low but steady. “About yesterday. About everything. I don’t know why I said what I said—I felt so strange, so out of it—but I know that doesn’t excuse it.” His grip on your hands tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself to you. “I just want you to know how much I love you. You, Wyeth, Violet. You’re my whole world, and I’m going to make sure today is Violet’s best first birthday ever.”

His words were earnest, his gaze unflinching. He lifted your hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to each of them before leaning forward, aiming to kiss you properly.

Before his lips could meet yours, a familiar voice groaned from behind.

“Ewww!”

Wyeth’s loud protest made you both turn. He stood a few steps away, his face scrunched in exaggerated disgust.

Ekko laughed, scooping the boy up in one swift motion.

“What? You don’t want Mommy and Daddy kissing?”

“No!” Wyeth giggled, squirming as Ekko nuzzled him.

“Well, too bad, but don’t think you’re safe, buddy. I’ve got kisses for you too!”

Wyeth squealed as Ekko peppered his face with kisses, his laughter filling the air. You couldn’t help but join in, tickling his sides as he giggled uncontrollably.

“Okay, okay! Stop!” Wyeth cried, still laughing as he wriggled free.

At that moment, a familiar voice called from the distance.

“Well, look who we have here!”

Wyeth’s head snapped toward the entrance, his eyes lighting up.

“Grandpa Benzo!” he yelled, bolting toward the sound of his grandfather’s voice.

Ekko set his son down and watched him run off before turning back to you. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close. His voice dropped to a low murmur, meant only for you.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet. I’ll leave it pending till tonight.” he said, his tone dripping with playful promise. He winked at you before turning to follow Wyeth, leaving you standing alone by the mural.

You exhaled deeply, hugging yourself as you looked up at the painting. It was vibrant, alive, full of hope and love.

You smiled softly. You chose well.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

tags: @bbybubbles @bookies16 @xelzaria @honeyfewr @bubblegupyy @iwasholic @chaeisbroke @emforjin @itszazouu @kriss-w @moonlight-dreamer04 @iloveavatar @sturngs

[lucysarah-c]

Levi's horrible flirtling skills part 9.

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

Indecipherable groans echoed through the room, merging with the sound of the alarm. Reluctantly sitting up, still in uniform, the bed covers crumpled under the weight as the person rose.   

Perhaps it was easier to abandon it after only an hour or two of sleep before having to get up again. A long night and a long day ahead. From the window, the light was already sneaking in subtly as the sun began to rise earlier. Pushing the door open, the bustling place was a harsh welcome so early.   

“Morning...” The greeting was said without much emotion.   

“Morning, Y/N!” one of the girls replied as she prepared breakfast in the small kitchen while another girl, a redhead, sat at the round dining table, which also served as a living room.   

Each of them was getting ready for the day ahead. Y/N easily began to prepare herself something to eat, trying not to disturb the girl who was already using the kitchen, while the redhead curled her eyelashes while sipping tea. With a loud sigh, Y/N took a seat and had a simple toast.   

“How was yesterday?” the redhead asked.   

“Good... all the babies were healthy.”   

“I was talking about the date.”   

“Yeah, how did that go?” The other girl, with light brown hair and golden eyes, sat down too.   

Y/N simply shrugged, putting on face cream as she passed down the tea. “Good, I guess...” she replied, almost disinterested, but as she slowly woke up, she got a cheeky grin. “He’s taking me to the official party.”   

The other two girls gasped excitedly as if they were the ones invited. “But that’s Saturday, right?”   

“Yeah.”   

“Better! You promised me we’d go to Edward’s party on Friday,” the brunette added.   

“Don’t forget girls’ night on Wednesday,” the redhead chimed in. “And we promised Charlie to help her choose something for the hospital event next week on Tuesday.”   

“Ugh, but I thought we were all going to the downtown party together. There will be happy hour for all the drinks!” The brunette pouted slightly. “But I guess you and your all-mighty new guy have better plans than us.”   

“I know, I know,” Y/N replied calmly. “I’m aware.” 

Y/N chuckled, biting her lower lip as the other two girls joked with each other. “So? That’s all?”      

Y/N grimaced uneasily, softly humming, almost disinterested. “He was very... nice and cute, well-behaved.”   

“Are you describing humanity’s strongest or a dog?”   

It made her snort with laughter. “Minnie!” she exclaimed, covering her mouth as she laughed.   

“He’s not that talkative,” she tried to justify. “Or... perhaps he’s shy, stoic...” she clicked her tongue. “I don’t know.”   

There was a soft hum of uncertainty filling the silence, but it was overpowered by one of the cats demanding food. “Going, going,” one of the girls said as she got up and rushed to the cat's demands.  

 “I just... hope that maybe around his friends, he’ll get a bit more confident,” Y/N said, raising her hands in the air as if pushing her last hope onto the idea.   

  “Maybe,” the brunette tried to support the idea, resting her head on her hand. “You said he’s nice...”   

  “He is! He’s very nice...” she said, as if it were a consolation prize, letting the words drag out as if the idea didn’t fully satisfy her. “It’s just that I like my man with a bit more spice... a bit less vanilla.” 

— 

“Ugh...” A loud groan followed as the suit, still on its hanger, was brought closer to the position it would have once worn, allowing him to admire his reflection in the mirror. “I don’t even know why I agreed to this.” 

“’Cause you’re desperate?” Hange spun around in the chair, messily eating a snack, which made Levi frown as crumbs dirtied his pristine floor. “Think about it... you could make it kinda official this way and make sure the MPs won’t be hitting on her.” 

“I don’t think we’re quite there yet,” Levi replied, the idea of publicly declaring his relationship status not exactly appealing. “Don’t you think it’s too soon to make it official?” 

Hange shrugged. “Do you want my honesty?” 

“Yes, and I also want you to stop dropping crumbs on my floor.” 

The brunette took an extra messy bite before speaking. “I don’t think she sees it that way...” 

The little excitement Levi felt was quickly fading, and after Hange’s words, it simply ceased to exist. “Capital girls are taken to official military balls all the time... someone had to say it to you, shorty.” 

The squad leader probably thought of this as ripping off a band-aid. 

“Yeah,” Levi replied curtly, trying to hide his own disappointment. “Did you take a damn shower already? You stink.” 

Scoffing, Hange rose from their position, grabbed a bunch of crackers from the bowl to eat them all at once, and frowned deeply as they left. “I hope you get to empty your balls soon so maybe you’ll stop being so constipated.” 

Levi swore he was ignoring his usual, right, self-preservation instincts when he agreed to bring her there. The suit felt odd on him; he hated the environment, the people, the situation, how he was handling it, and particularly the looks. 

All those old greasy men who had lost touch with reality, their privilege, and their classism, were eyeing her. ‘She’s looking fucking breathtaking, but for fuck’s sake, behave,’ he thought. 

Her tight little red dress, her shiny, innocent eyes, her sweet smile, her shoulders and neck on display as she had her hair up—Levi was sneaking little peeks each time he got a chance. He could hide those, but the types of stares that he could hardly hide—and had no intention of hiding—were the ones he gave when he was just two steps away from her, and she was already being approached by another man. 

‘They’re like fucking flies,’ Levi thought, clicking his tongue, two dishes in hand as he walked back to her side. 

“It’s my first time at one of these events,” he began to pick up their conversation from afar. 

“Oh, there’s always a first time for everything, sweetie,” Levi knew exactly who he was—a high-ranking Garrison member from the west. “Did you come alone? Want me to get you something to eat?” 

“She came with me,” Levi spat out before she could look around and point him out. 

“Captain, I heard you came, but I didn’t believe it. Maybe we should insist on inviting you more often if you’re going to bring such pretty company all the time,” the dark-haired man said slowly, walking away as Levi’s gaze never wavered. Raising his cup in the air, he added, “Miss.” 

She timidly smiled back without saying much. 

‘If I ever catch him outside the walls... I’m pushing him over. His wife will thank me,’ Levi thought. 

Returning to her, he handed her what he had gotten from the buffet. “Thank you. I think he was a bit tipsy,” she said, taking her dish. 

Levi looked down at the dinner, which consisted mostly of little pieces heavily decorated. He grimaced. 

‘Can’t they just give normal fucking food for once? With the money they wasted on this posh shit, we could have gotten food that actually fills you up,’ he thought. 

He took a small bite, but the whole piece could easily fit in his mouth, and the taste didn’t appeal to him. “Do you want to get another drink?” 

Levi tried to swallow the bite he had taken before speaking. ‘I just had three glasses... maybe I don’t want to look like an alcoholic. Isn’t that what everyone thinks of soldiers? That all we do is get pissed drunk on citizens’ money?’ 

“I’m fine,” he said, but seeing her disappointment, he quickly added, “I can go and get you one if you want.” 

“No, it’s fine.” 

‘... that didn’t sound good. Fuck, what did I do wrong? I didn’t want another, but should I have just said yes?’ 

As the night went on, Levi began to regret his decision to attend. First, they were left completely alone as Hange and Erwin went to secure funds, and then she asked his worst nightmare. 

“Do you want to dance?” 

‘Shit... I fucking adore you, but there’s a limit...’ 

“I’m not much of a dancer.” 

Later, they were catching some fresh air on one of the balconies, also taking in the gardens, when they encountered a group of men smoking. “Do you want to go to another balcony?” he asked, catching the scent of cigarettes. 

The resigned look on her face as she forced a smile made him feel uneasy. “It’s fine, I’m not made of glass.” 

‘... maybe I’m the one who needs a cig. What did I say this time? I was just trying to be—’ 

“Sorry, you’re very nice,” she interrupted, running her hand through his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. But the pleasant smile and condescending tone didn’t match the words. 

“Miss? The gentleman over there sent you this,” another staff member brought over the fifth drink sent her way. 

“Oh, thanks,” she said, accepting the glass. “You sure you don’t mind?” 

Shaking his head softly, Levi responded, “No.” 

‘I’ve killed people in the underground for less... way less,’ he thought. 

Clenching his teeth and trying to take deep breaths, Levi thought, The last thing I need tonight is to get jealous over stupid drinks... I learned my lesson last time. 

He noticed her rejecting those who asked her to dance, but Levi could see it all over her face. 

She’s bored... she’s so damn bored that she can’t even hide it anymore. 

It’s like knowing you’re running out of gas and not being able to reach anywhere safe with the 3DMG... Damn it! It's not my fault, I didn’t plan the party. 

Maybe I should have taken her for a dance... 

No, let’s be honest, I can’t do that. 

Levi’s mind was racing, seeing all his efforts crumble before his eyes without him being able to do anything. It didn’t help that the one time Erwin dragged him over to talk to some donors, he saw her from afar, chatting with a friend from the MPs and having a blast. Laughing, drinking, whispering in each other’s ears. 

This is a damn test... and I’m failing like the biggest idiot who hasn’t touched a single book all semester. 

The nobleman Erwin was trying to force Levi to listen to kept talking while Levi dissociated, trying not to pay attention. What the hell am I doing wrong? He tried to keep up the pretense until he saw it. 

Her being approached by another person, who stopped by and began talking and talking. 

No... no, over my dead body. 

Nile was rambling to her about something that had caught her attention enough that she was listening intently. 

No way I’m letting that asshole with a pitiful excuse for a beard talk behind my back, because I know that’s what he’s doing. 

“Yeah, very interesting, but if you’ll excuse me,” Levi interrupted the older man under the scrutiny of an extremely disappointed Erwin. 

He took quick steps, trying to reach them as fast as possible. 

“Nile,” Levi spat out the name as he got by her side, frowning at the man. 

“Oh, the Commander was just telling me that he met you when you were still living in the underground,” she commented as if there was a need for an introduction. 

“Ah, is that so?” Levi feigned interest. “Doesn’t your wife need a hand, Nile? Three kids are a lot to handle.” 

“Levi,” the MP acknowledged the Captain’s presence, “Marie is doing just fine, thank you. I was surprised you brought someone with you, so I decided to share some knowledge.” 

“He was just telling me that you beat his team up and stole their 3DMG gear when you were a thug.” 

Nile might be Erwin’s old friend, but he definitely wasn’t Levi’s, and they hadn’t been on the best of terms since... well, ever. “Maybe, I don’t really remember. If I had to remember each MP I put in their place...” 

“It was illegal, Levi,” Nile insisted. “You know... Levi was known for getting very close to a few female MP soldiers who went down there to meet him.” 

What the hell? You’re already married, why do you care? Levi felt the color drain from his face. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of what he did as a thug, but the underground was different, and he wasn’t ready to introduce her to that part of him. 

“Oh,” she hummed in understanding, turning to her left to look at the Captain. “Is that so?” 

“That was many years ago,” Levi added. 

“No, it wasn’t that many.” 

“Tch,” Levi went to grab her hand and suggested, “Don’t you want to go for a stroll around the gardens?” 

“No, I want to keep listening to how you put MP girls in their place in the hallways of the underground,” she replied, catching him completely off guard. 

What the hell? What else did you tell her, moron? She’s going to think I’m some asshole who goes around pretending to be a fuckboy. 

“Tell me, sir.” Her shining eyes and bright smile confused him deeply. “Why are you recalling or telling me any of this?” 

Suddenly, both men fell silent, and her change in attitude was unexpected. Levi noticed how her fake smile turned into a cheeky grin. 

“Are you jealous that those girls got railed up in a hallway and you didn’t? I’m confused.” 

“N-No!” 

Levi was speechless as he admired her. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not the jealous type. I’m sure we can all come to an agreement! I mean, as long as your wife is in favor,” Y/N replied, taking another sip of her drink but never breaking eye contact. 

Nile scoffed and left without saying much. “Cheers!” she said, raising her glass in the air. 

“I didn’t know you had that in you,” Levi whispered, trying to form a coherent thought. 

“Hmm?” She took another sip and chuckled. “Me? I didn’t know you were like that, Captain.” 

I claimed victory too fast. 

“No. Well, I was a brat back then.” 

“Is that so?” She questioned, but Levi was slowly noticing the changes in her body language. “Tell me,” she whispered, getting so close to his face that Levi could taste the liquor on her breath as she spoke. 

Frowning, he listened. “If I had been allowed to go down there...” her voice dropped lower with each word, “Would you have railed me up against a damp wall too?” 

Holy... shit— 

“That depends,” Levi’s voice dropped too, as neither of them broke eye contact, the tension between them rising. “I only punished them if they misbehaved in my territory.” 

She softly bit her bottom lip and looked at him through her lashes. “I can misbehave too, Captain.” 

The roll of her tone as she pronounced his title... I could get hard just from that... what the hell is happening? I don’t care, but I’m enjoying it. 

Levi chuckled; it came naturally at seeing her batting eyes at him and taking innocent little sips. “I thought you were a good girl.” 

“Oh, I’m a good girl,” she pouted, “...but I may like to do bad things with you.” 

I want to grip that stupidly pretty face of yours and... damn, where have you been my whole life? 

“Like what?” he asked huskily. 

She slowly rolled her eyes, swaying a little side to side and checking that they weren’t being observed. “I’m so bored.” 

“Are you? Tch, what a spoiled little thing you are,” Levi couldn’t resist running a finger down the side of her face, pushing a non-existent hair out of the way. 

“I don’t want to make Erwin mad at us...” she muttered, looking to the side, pretending. “What do you say you use those thug skills of yours to sneak us out of here, and we go to my place where my friends are out?” 

Forget whatever I said—God bless you, Nile! 

“I would say, give me fifteen minutes and meet me by the bathroom.” 

Play it cool, try to ignore the fact that all your blood is rushing down to your dick. 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Her hands moved to pretend she was arranging the folds of his suit. “I would say, make it ten.” 

Chapters left: 2

I wrote this high on painkillers and antibiotics, be nice lol

[connorsui]

Sylus x wife! Reader - || Imagine ||

"It's a Grand Party!"

The warmth of the early afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of your home, casting a soft golden hue across the living room floor. A small giggle echoed from the corner where your daughter was sitting at her little pink tea table, surrounded by a mix of plush teddy bears and dolls. Her laughter bubbled up again as she pretended to pour another round of tea into the plastic cups arranged neatly in front of her stuffed companions.

“And another for you and anotherrr for youuuu,” she sang out in delight, pouring imaginary water from her large pink kettle. Her tiny feet kicked back and forth under the table in happiness, her energy boundless as she settled back into her seat, a satisfied smile plastered on her face.

Sylus, watching from nearby, leaned against the wall with a smile tugging at his lips. His arms were crossed, but there was a softness in his gaze, a look reserved for only the two people he cherished the most. “I told you she would love it,” he said quietly, turning his head slightly to glance at you.

You sighed with a soft smile, still focused on your reflection as you applied the final touches of your lipstick. “You spoil her too much,” you teased, capping the lipstick and placing it on the vanity in front of you. “Sometimes I think you're going to buy her a house before she even turns ten.”

His presence was warm as he came up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, pulling you into his embrace. “And is that so horrible?” His voice was a low murmur, the edge of affection clear. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, his breath tickling your skin. “I would love to give her everything she so desires.”

You smiled, leaning back into his chest as you looked at him in the mirror. “With limits, Sylus… or else you'll have a little girl asking for a private jet sooner or later.”

Before he could respond, a tiny whirlwind came crashing into his leg, tiny arms wrapping around his calf. “Daddy! Daddy!” your daughter giggled, tugging on his pants. “Can you play with me? Please sit! You’re invited to my party!”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the scene. “Well, go on now,” you encouraged, smiling at Sylus.

With a smile and a shake of his head, he let his daughter lead him to the tiny tea table, his large hand engulfing her small one as she guided him to one of the plastic chairs. “Mommy! Come, Mommy! A party needs another princess!” she declared, pointing to an open spot next to Sylus.

You joined them on the floor, settling in next to Sylus. As soon as you did, your daughter grabbed the plastic kettle and passed it to Sylus with a serious expression. “Daddy serve Mommy! Mommy doesn't serve herself!”

Sylus chuckled, his eyes bright with amusement. “And who would serve me then, princess?” he asked playfully, glancing at the tiny ruler of his universe.

Your daughter paused, putting her little hands on her hips, her expression adorably stern. “You’re invited to serve Mommy, not to be served!” she insisted.

You had to turn away, covering your mouth to hide your laughter. You could practically hear Sylus’ heart breaking in the silence, and it took everything in you not to burst out laughing at the sight.

“Sweetie, please,” you said with a grin, turning back to face them. “You’re going to break your father’s heart.”

Reluctantly, your daughter pouted and picked up a tiny teapot, pouring the pretend water into Sylus’ cup. “Give it to Mommy,” she instructed, as if it was a great concession.

You raised an eyebrow at Sylus, a smirk playing on your lips. “So, you still wish to spoil her, huh?”

Sylus rolled his eyes but grinned with amusement. “I still will. This doesn’t change anything, and you know it.” He glanced at your daughter, who was now rearranging her dolls. “She views you exactly like I do.”

You looked at him curiously. “And how exactly?”

Without hesitation, Sylus leaned in and kissed you softly. “Like you are meant to be treated… a princess,” he whispered against your lips, his words filled with affection.

You smiled, your heart swelling. “Well then, why don’t you let me treat you the same?” you teased. “This party might give you the title of server, but you’re still my husband.”

Before Sylus could respond, your daughter came bounding back into the room, holding a large teddy bear in her arms. “Mommy! Say hello to my new friend! This is my best friend!” she declared proudly, hugging the bear tightly.

“And why won’t you introduce him to me?” Sylus asked with a grin.

She pouted, her little face scrunching up in defiance. “My best friend only says hi to Mommy,” she said seriously. “She doesn’t say hi to the server.”

Sylus raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond, he reached down and lifted her into the air, making her squeal and giggle with delight. “Oh, really now?” he said with mock indignation, holding her close as she kicked her legs playfully. “Mommy, save me! Save me!” she called out between giggles.

You laughed at the sight, the sound of their playful banter filling the room with warmth. “Sylus, do you still want to go out, or would you rather stay here?” you asked, watching them fondly.

He looked over at you, still holding your daughter as she clung to him, giggling. “Why would I want to leave both of my worlds?” he said softly. “I’ll order Luke and Kieran to cancel our afternoon plans. The party’s already in full swing.” pulling you closer to join them at the tiny table. The three of you, surrounded by pink plastic cups and teddy bears, felt like the world outside didn’t matter; right here, with them, was where your heart belonged.

Let me luv my bby with sylus plz

[halfbloodfics]

Hi, welcome on tumblr.

I see that request are open. So. I have one :D. Can you write snape x reader fluff. She is also professor in Hogwarts. They are long time in secret relationship and another man (maybe Lockhart? :D ) trying to him. But it’s ridiculous for Severus and her so sometimes in evening after dinner, they talking and laughing about what he come up with. Thank you very much. And sorry for my English, it’s not my native language.

Thank you for the request, I'm sorry I'm getting to it so late. Uni is starting up again, so I'll be quite busy.. But fret not fellow sev lovers, all requests will be taken gotten too!!

Tropes: Fluff, established relationship, secret relationship

Warnings: none :)

requests are open :) see pinned post xx

~

The classroom was quiet, the students having just been dismissed for the weekend. With your back turned to the door, you began tidying up after them, pushing in the chairs and returning borrowed textbooks.

The afternoon sun poured in from the ancient windows, filling the class with a warm, ambient light. From the back of the room, your partner, Severus, gazed up at you, waiting for you to be done.

A small smile graced your lips, one that he returned. For professional reasons, you kept your relationship private from the other students and staff; giving no clues that you were together. During the week, the two of you slept in your seperate chambers, on opposite ends of the castles. But the weekends? That was your time to finally be together, in your shared home on Spinner's End. Away from the secrecy and obligations of your professional lives.

You continued to clean as he graded, eager to finish, when a familiar voice interupted the silence.

"Ah, Proffessor Y/LN." Lockhart said, standing in the door frame. "Allow me to assist you in cleaning."

You opened your mouth to politely decline, but before you had the chance to, Lockhart invited himself in, using his wand to organize the classroom and tidy things back up the way they were.

"Oh, thank you, Professor Lockhart." You said, brushing your hands off on the sides of your dress. "You didn't have to, but I appreciate it."

Severus stood quietely at the back of the class, in the corner of your eye you noticed his arms cross.

It was no doubt to anyone in Hogwarts but Lockart, that Severus absolutely despised the man. The proud, flirtacious and conceited man was the absolute opposite of your reserved partner, and yet, Lockhart never seemed to catch on to this fact that his presence was far from welcome.

He grinned, showing off his pearly white smile and stepping a little closer until he was about a foot from you.

"Say, Y/N," He started, adjusting the turqouise and gold rimmed hat on his head to show off more of the curly, golden locs, "You seem to be fairly intelligent. I'm sure you have exquisite taste, in extra curricular activites."

Your eyes flicked briefly at Severus, who was now staring at the back of Lockharts head, with an expression that was half amused, half annoyed.

You hesitated. "Umm. Thank you? I thi-"

Lockharts hand raised dismissivly, his fingers gently grazing across your face to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. "No needs for words, Professor Y/L/N. I know, how star struck you are." He says with a wink.

Oh. Yea... Starstruck...

You clear your throat, walking over to your desk to continue collecting your things.

Obnoxiously, yet not surprisingly, Lockhart follows, this time stopping in front of your desk, watching with a smug expression as you gather your things.

"Which is why, dear, I was wondering if you would love the honour, of coming to my book reading this weekend?" He starts, leaning on the desk, "There will be plenty of my admirars there, hopefully you amongst them. Who knows? Perhaps I'll even sign something for you, free of charge."

You paused, bag in hand. "Oh, um.. That's quite kind of you, Professor. I thank you for the invite, but I'm quite busy this weekend... Unfortunately."

Lockharts grin faltered, as if he wasn't used to a woman denying him the pleasure of his company.

From the back of the room, Severus let out a small scoff, causing Lockhart to turn around and notice the man he hadn't seen before. "Oh. Professor Snape." He said, clearly fighting to maintain the confident persona he had put on.

He turned back to you, forcing a smile. "Well, yes. Another time, certainly. I'll see you on Monday, Professor."

You nodded, forcing a small smile, feeling relieved as you watched him exit the class and disapear down the hall.

As soon as he was out of sight, your head rolled to Severus with an exasperated sigh. He smirked back at you, clearly amused by the whole ordeal as he approached and took the bag off your shoulders.

"A signed book of his, free of charge." He said at last, drawing out the laugh you had been holding in so long.

~

That night, you sat in the kitchen of your shared home in Spinners End, reading The Quibbler as Severus stood in front of the stove, stirring a pot of soup.

"Finding any entertaining gossip, dear?" He said, back still turned as he prepared your dinner.

You put the paper down with a scoff. "No, just the regular, boring stuff. Besides, these papers don't even have crosswords at the end. What's the point?"

You watched Severus move around the kitchen quietly, hands delicately chopping vegetables and adding them to the pot. All these years, and he still didn't use magic while cooking. You knew this about him, that he preffered to use his own hands to cook, finding solace in the quiet, mindless activity.

He brushed a sliced carrot off the cutting board and into the pot. "Perhaps you should have taken Lockart up on his offer. Surely his riveting tales would have provided you with such entertainment."

There was a playful edge to his voice, despite his monotone phrasing. It was no doubt he could get jealous, possessive even. Particularily in the beginning of your relationship. But as the years had gone on and his trust in you developed, his doubts and insecurities lessened, finding others flirtations slightly less outrageous. But with Lockhart? It was just laughable.

You snorted, moving your paper to the side as he approached with two bowls of soup, placing yours on the placemat in front of you.

The front, framing pieces of his black hair fell in front of his smirk as he sat across from you on the small table. His left hand reached for the paper, his right one bringing the spoon to his lips and blowing gently on the soup.

"Oh, no," He stated as his eyes scanned the paper, "Certainly no tales of Lockharts bravery in here."

He flipped the pages, the corner of his lips tugging up slightly higher as you scoffed, bringing your own spoon to your lips and taking a sip.

"However will I fill my weekend with enjoyment now?" You sighed.

Severus smirked, taking another sip of the soup and putting the paper down. "I don't know. Now that you no longer have the honour of his company."

That was all it took for you to break out in a laugh, leaning back in your chair and playfully kicking Severus under the table.

"Sev," You laughed, "Did you see the look on his face when I declined?"

Severus smirked, laughing silently to himself as he brought the spoon to his lips once more. "I'll be keeping that memory close in mind the next time I'm lucky enough to have the honour of gracing his presence."

You laughed harder, always amused by your partners never ending sarcastic remarks. It was one of the things you were first attracted to him for, all those years ago. How he could always one up you in conversation, his wit never ending.

"How often do you think he hears the word, no?" You said.

Severus scoffed, sipping the soup again and swallowing before replying curtly: "Not nearly enough."

You giggled to yourself quietly, relishing in the view of his smile across from you. "Perhaps I can help with that." You said finally, stirring your soup.

He smirked as his dark eyes met yours, and for a moment the only sound was the clinging of your spoons against the bowls as you ate, stomachs full of home made soup and amusement.

When Severus had noticed you were finished, he stood up, holding out his hand to collect your bowl. You handed it to him, thanking him and smiling as you felt him lean down and place a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"I must say," He murmered against your hair. "I think your company is a much greater honour."

You smiled as he withdrew his lips. "The honour is yours all weekend, my love."

He placed the bowls in the sink and came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into your neck.

Sighing, the stress and obligations of the previous school week began to melt away. You were here, in your shared home. The peace washed over you as you tilted your head back against him, breathing in his familiar scent.

"Thank Merlin for that." He murmered at last.

~

la fin, xx

[sinstear]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ SUBURBAN BLUES ❞

ㅤㅤㅤㅤpairing. milf!abby x mechanic!reader

SUBURBAN BLUES, Abby Anderson, the southern peach of the neighbourhood, the sweetest to ever be in the bluebonnet state has built a family to be proud of. With a blue collar wife, Ellie, and her baby cub Remi to take care of her life should feel complete, whole. Yet on the cusp of a failed marriage, she’s lonely, struggling to do everything this household requires. She seeks solace in someone else and that friend just happens to be you. ⛧ warnings. not really any smut in this part, but still 18+, tooth-rotting fluff, a lil sprinkle of our dear old angst, flirting, mostly from reader, they are a heavy flirt oops! but abby secretly loves it, tehe wc. 5.3k masterlist.

There’s nothing like summer heat in the middle of August. In California, it could be more than brutal, the cruel heat waves penetration from the tall windows making Abby nearly sweat underneath the warm sun. As far as it was, it could surely make an impact. After nearly half the night, not to mention a few hours this morning, she finally got Remi to sleep. Even if she felt light-headed, her sweet baby’s screams turned into murderous knives each time they came hurling towards her head.

Ellie didn’t really seem to like getting up, only if she was asked. Abby got tired of asking so she would get up in the hour of rooster, cooing her six month baby back to sleep. Godbid anyone disturb her sleep. Ellie was the working one in the family, she was owed her rest, according to her.

As time went on, it was difficult on every level not to feel a certain kind of resentment. It rested on Abby’s tongue, a weapon to use as she wished. When she feels particularly exhausted, she reminds Ellie of why she’s so goddamn tired. Taking care of a child, much less a baby, is a full time job. Most days, she feels as if she’s doing it all alone. Without the help of her wife, the one who is supposed to be there, they choose to do this together but she can’t help but feel as if she’s all alone in this. 

It all boils over on a Sunday afternoon, heat rises as long with overflowing emotions, suppressed until Abby has finally had enough.

Ellie with her hand on her hips as pinches at her forehead, repeatedly rubbing over the skin. It’s a necessary fight to be had, she knows it even if she’d rather ignore it, Abby has reached her limit. With crimson cheeks, and an irate frown, she’s calm as ever but she talks so lowly, the only thing keeping her from screaming off the top of her lungs is her sleeping daughter upstairs. 

“You don’t help, Ellie. You’ve completely checked out. See? Even when I’m talking to you, you’re not here!” Abby snaps her fingers in Ellie’s face to regain her attention. “I might as well be expressing my concerns to a wall.”

“I’m listening.” Ellie argues. 

“Yeah, just about as well as you listen to Remi’s cries at night.” 

Abby knows it’s backhanded, she wants it to hurt but at this point part of her wonders if you’re even listening to her. She doesn’t even bring up the fact they haven’t had sex since she gave birth. Not a bone in her body wishes to vocalize her need for affection, to be touched, loved — cared for. 

Ellie opens her mouth for a countless number of excuses to tumble out but Abby knows her too well. She won’t have it, not for another moment. 

“Just do better, Ellie.” 

The remainder of the afternoon, Abby spends it with Remi. Feeding, burping before putting her down. Mindlessly, she focuses on tasks requiring no further though. Deep cleaning the fridge, finishing the laundry, and she vacuuming the living room when she finally breaks down. 

She wants nothing more than to smash their wedding picture to bits. Five years ago, she would have said it was the happiest day of her life, but now the day she had Remi was. Even if having her daughter reshaped her marriage for the worse, the only kind of magic she finds is those baby blue eyes staring back at her. 

She still has the love of her life even if it’s shifted from her wife to her daughter.

All Abby has time for is Remi, she can’t cater to a relationship where she’s the only one fighting for it. Ellie is content with hiding in the shadows of their issues, spending her time away from Abby in any way she can. This time Ellie goes for a run around the neighborhood, when she runs into you. 

It isn’t the first time, the two of you tend to go jogging at the same time. Ellie joins for a bit, but you’re usually passing her. It’s a bit of a bruise to her ego. Your endurance is better than hers, but you make fun of it, it’s really that big of a deal. It’s a nice stress reliever and it’s a stroke to your ego. 

Bending over the hood of your car, just in your black shorts clinging to your sweaty body and your sports bra slightly wet, Ellie approaches sitting next on the stool next to your massive tool box. They’ve spoken a few times, nothing more than surface level conversations. Small talks that numbs your brain, good enough to get rid of the silence but not enough for a friendship to blossom. 

“So,” Ellie pauses, “How much do you know about cars?” 

Ellie wants to slap herself in the face for being so painfully awkward, she might as well have stumbled over her words, that would have been less embarrassing. You stand up to your full height. Ellie would say it’s intimidating, just a little, especially when it always looks like you’re going to punch a bitch out if they say one wrong thing to you. 

You’re really the pariah of the neighborhood. Most of the time, you don’t come to cookouts assembled by the neighbors, you keep to yourself, the only time you’re ever seen by anyone is on the weekends, working on whatever car you’re flipping next. Jesse, the man who lives on the other side of Ellie, knows you work at a shop, but that’s the only detail anyone has seemed to pull out of you. 

“You know I’m a mechanic, right?” You gesture to the massive tool box, one that probably cost more than Ellie’s monthly salary. You shut the hood of the GT-R, clearly you weren’t going to get some silence but you didn’t mind, your back could use the break. Taking the towel out of your pocket, wiping the grease and grime off your hands and forearms, wiping the excess sweat off your head forehead.

“Well obviously.” Ellie says. 

As if you didn’t just have a drill in your hand moments ago. 

“What do you need?” You keep it short and sweet, especially the way Ellie is looking you up and down. As if you’re something to be devoured, you shrug it off, grabbing the tools you’d be using and dispensing them into the drawers. 

“It’s this collectible car, we have a 67’ camaro but it doesn’t run. We have a new motor for it and a new timing belt but I can’t replace it. I fucked it up the last time so my wife is adamant about me not touching it again.” 

You offer her a light chuckle, of course she fucking did. Idiots thinking they can do it after watching one video and then get stuck somewhere in the middle, fucking up the vehicle even more. At least Ellie wasn’t pretending like she knew what she was doing. Still, you didn’t know if you could get past the way she’s looking at you, a desperate need curved into her eyes. One you sure as hell would not be giving to her. You weren’t going to be caught in some fucking mess. 

More than anything, you enjoy your quiet life. Day in and day out, there’s solace in a steady life, no surprises. It’s the way you like it. Going to work, coming home and going for your evening run, working on cars until you're met with the midnight sky until the day repeats itself. It’s predictable, easy — comforting even. 

“It’s going to cost you, m’not free.” 

“Of course, whatever you want.” 

Curtly, you nod as if you’re asking if she needs anything else but Ellie sits there looking at you like a deer in headlight, emerald eyes so lost in yours but you’re just looking at her with a scrunched face and furrowed eyebrows. You’re positive you would find drool on your garage floor if you met her where she sat. You want to chuckle when she flexes her arms as if you’re supposed to be impressed by it. 

Ellie opens her mouth as if she wants to say something else, but you cut her off. Grabbing a business card, with your work cell on it and handing it to her. “Text me when you want me to come over and take a look. Just give me a little heads up so I can move around my schedule.” 

“Yeah, of course.” You chuckle as she stands up losing her footing as she stands

up. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around then. Maybe for our next run?” 

Our? 

“Sure, Ellie. Have a nice night.” You keep it short and sweet, scared she might try something else if the interaction lasts any longer. Closing your garage door, finally in silence away from the prying eyes of Ellie. Her poor fucking wife, you thought. Such a sleazeball for making starry eyes at someone you’re not married to. Regardless, you’ll keep your head down, you don’t want to get tangled into someone else’s mess. 

Treating yourself to a hot shower, you let the steam nearly suffocate. The water pressure hits your back perfectly, helping with some of the tension you carry from your shoulders. Today’s work finally catches up to your body, shutting your eyes as you let the water wash away the sweat and dirt, the muddy gray water pooling at your feet. It’s the most relaxing part of your day and you don’t take it for granted. Some days it’s the one activity you look forward to the most, as depressing as it sounds. It isn’t long until you’re falling asleep in your clean, cold sheets, soothing your body to a full night’s rest. 

—

You were running late. Sure, they live next door, and you wouldn’t have far to go, but shit you were late. You had promised you’d be there to fix the car at 10, and as you stumbled through the living room, trying to get yourself ready and boots on your feet, you noticed it was a little after 10:30 on the click above the stove, almost taunting you that you had overslept. Which wasn’t like you. You were always on time, maybe just a couple minutes early. 

Shrugging on your jacket the minute you step outside into the crisp air, you shoved one of your breakfast protein bars in your mouth, your toolbox tucked under your arm, and your hand quickly slammed the door behind you. Winching at the loud sound that echoes through your eyes. If you keep slamming things, you’re going to have to end up fixing the door every goddamn night.

You could tell Ellie and her wife, who you still have yet to meet, have lived here  for a while just based on how neat and tidy their garden was. The flowers still looked fresh, watered regularly, and overall the colors were beautiful. You’ve not been here a long time, but long enough to know that you barely see Ellies car in the drive, the spot usually empty whenever you go outside. Did she have someone to keep it that pretty? Her wife, maybe? Shrugging away your thoughts, you took a few long strides up the pathway, up the 3 steps and stumbled over one of the plant pots when you weren’t looking where you were going. Knocking the ceramic off the step completely and breaking just beside you with a loud crash.

“Shit, fuck!” You groaned, kneeling down to pick up the broken pieces carefully, nipping yourself in the process of trying to clean up the mess. “Jesus Christ.” You frowned, looking around, suddenly more nervous than you were for being late. “Fuck.”

You were so into trying to clean up the mess your dumbass had made that you weren’t fully focused on a certain blonde looking through the window on the door, watching you clumsily throw the small piles of soil into the other flower pots, still wanting everything to look as pretty as it did when you walked up their pathway. “Are you okay?” Came a gentle voice. A voice that caught you so off guard that you almost fell down the steps this time.

“Oh fuck, hi!” You stammered, standing to your full height when the door opened and a small giggle had caught your attention. “Shit, I swear I didn’t break it on purpose, I wasn’t looking where I was going and somehow walked right into it. M’sorry.” You apologized profusely, your breath getting caught in your throat when your eyes found baby blue ones staring back at you. 

Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, down her back, a soft smile tugging at her plump lips, one of the thin dress straps fell down her shoulder, and you didn’t know where to look all of a sudden. Her pretty face? Her freckled shoulder? Her legs? Shit, focus dumbass. “I spoke to your wife, well I assume she’s your wife, told me about a car that you needed fixing so uhm, here I am”

Really? Why are you nervous right now? She hasn’t even said anything.

“Or if you’re busy I can come back later—”

“You’re bleeding.” She cuts you off, eyebrows furrowed and it’s then when you realize she’s not even looking at you. More so looking down. Your hand was bleeding. How didn’t you notice or feel it?

“Sorry?”

“Did you cut yourself on the pot? Come in, I can fix it for you and you can tell me what Ellie told you.” You don’t miss the huff she lets out when she simply wraps her hand around your arm, and tugs you into her home. Hiding the blush on her face at the firmness of your muscles beneath her hand.

The coldness from outside was gone just as fast when you found yourself standing in the hallway, the warmth from the living room fire instantly stopped the small shake of your body as you watched her halt in her steps, turn around and quirk an eyebrow up at you. “Are you coming?” Her sweet voice spoke, soft and smooth like honey.

Fuck. Maybe.

“Yeah, yeah, m’coming” 

Your legs pick up, feet moving towards her while she slips into the kitchen, the fruit scented perfume filling your nose the more you walk, the more you follow her like a love sick puppy. Really, what the fuck are you doing? She’s married. “Is the cut deep?”

“It’ll be fine, seriously, you don’t need to fix me.” You chuckled under your breath. “It happens all the time, always breaking something and getting injured.” 

“So you're a clumsy person?” Her next question comes, looking at you with a soft smile. A smile you’ve never seen before. Especially not by someone so beautiful, so sweet. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m clumsy, sometimes I see things and I just get,” you paused, a smirk curving up on your lips when you find her looking at you, waiting for you to finish. “Distracted by pretty things.”

Her cheeks flush, something you don’t miss as she beckons you to sit on the stool beside the small island in the middle of her kitchen. “M’sure that’s it.” She giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“It is.”

“What did Ellie tell you?”

You turned your head and if it wasn’t for the fact you were sitting down already, your knees would have buckled beneath you and sent you flying to the floor when you found her bending down, reaching for what you could only assume was a first aid kit, and making soft grunts trying to reach it. “Jesus.” You mumbled, biting your fist.

“Did you say something?”

“Just that I like the flowers in your garden. S’pretty.”  You coughed, squirming around on the stool and trying to contain the thoughts swimming around in your head. Swallowing when she stands up and looks over at you. First aid kit in hand.

“Oh, thank you,” She smiled shyly, placing the small green box on the counter. “I love my garden, it helps me with stress. Minus getting my clothes dirty, I hate that part.”

I don’t. I’d love to see you in dirty clothes. 

“So you tend your garden?”

“If I left it to Ellie, they would all be dead.” The smile she gives you doesn’t meet her eyes. It wasn’t like the previous smiles she’s given you. It seems more emotionless. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Not used to talking to someone about hobbies I love doing,” Her fingers felt soft against your skin when she lifted your injured hand, your rough skin against her softer skin had shivers running down your spine.

“Your wife doesn’t talk about them?”

“Doesn’t really talk about much apart from work, but s’okay. I’m Abby by the way.” 

Once you introduced yourself, you shook her hand with your only good one and smiled at her. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Abby. If it helps, i would gladly love to hear about your other hobbies.”  

Abby’s breath hitched in her throat, was it because you wanted to know about her and all the things she loved, or was it because you were touching her? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t mind it. You were kind and gentle, something she hasn’t felt in a while. “I warn you, they can be boring.”

“Impossible. I will listen no matter what.” 

Abby was careful with your wounded hand, cleaning the cut with one of her antiseptic wipe gently, dabbing away the drying blood, as well as the fresh with a neatness you hadn’t see before. Just like her flowers, she took care of you like you were fragile, always mumbling what she was going to do next, warning you the antibiotic might sting a little. Stunned at how you didn’t even flinch, and then she was asking herself things. Were you used to getting injured? Had this happened before that you barely reacted to anything like this before? Abby had many questions, but then again, so did you. Of course.

“Have you guys been married long? Wait can I even ask that?” 

“You can, if you want a truthful answer,” Abby replied with a soft laugh that had your heart racing. “We’ve been married long enough to have a daughter, if that’s what you want to know. She takes care of her, in her own way, i guess.”

“We don’t have to talk about your wife, if you don’t want to. We can talk about more of your hobbies if you’d like. Or even talk about your daughter, i bet she looks just like you, hm?”

“Didn’t Ellie tell you about the car? I wouldn’t want to bore you with things about my life.”

“What about you is borin’, sweetheart?” God fucking damn it. 

The way you were looking at her made her feel seen. Of course, Ellie’s had looked at her before, but she’s never looked at her the way you are. Like you really wanted to know her, wanted to know her likes and dislikes. Looking at her like she was everything. You were looking at her like she was the only woman in the world, something her own wife doesn’t do. And she loved it. “I’m a mother who stays at home—”

“Who tends to her own garden, looks after and takes care of her daughter, fixes an injured person who was stupid enough to broke her really petty plant pot that i still need to clean up. Wouldn’t call you borin’, love, i would say that you just live life differently and none of that is borin’. I think it’s pretty beautiful, it seems like your wife is the borin’ person in this situation, but what do i know? Maybe the fact she makes you tend your own garden while you’re already takin’ care of your child. Not my business though, just an observation, if you will.” You shrugged, licking your lips and smirking at her. 

“She does care, in her own way.” Abby found herself defending her wife, a wife who barely see’s her. Why? Abby still loved her, or maybe she thought she did, she wasn’t so sure what she felt half the time. Ellie’s never there for the important parts. She misses the different yet small milestones her daughter makes and that makes Abby’s blood boil. If she can’t be there for her wife, she sure as hell can be there for her daughter.

“Never said she didn’t, Sweet. I’m just sayin’, if you were my wife, gave birth to our daughter, i would not let you lift a finger.” You found yourself admitting, eyeing her up a little more than you should be doing. Ellie, her wife, asked you to fix her fucking car, so why are you flirting with her wife? “I mean, those dirty clothes you mentioned, you’re telling me she doesn’t even wash them for you?”

“She has a job.”

“She also has a family.”

Wrapping the bandage around your hand, Abby pouted at your sudden wince and cleared her throat. “There, done.” The Blonde murmured, the tears welling up in the corner of her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you, and before you could even do anything, Abby’s wiping them away and smiling again. “The car is in the garage—”

“M’sorry if i made you upset,” You sighed, reaching your hand up and wiping away the droplets that fell down her cheek. “That wasn’t my intention, you just, you’re doing everything, you know? S’not fair on you is all i’m sayin’.”

“I appreciate you worrying, but m’okay.”

“Well, I live across the street, so if you need someone to talk to, just come over” You smiled, the thud of your boots hit the floor as you push yourself to your feet and tugged at your jacket sleeves. “Right, your car.” 

Ignoring the fire in her stomach, Abby just nodded, moved toward where the keys were hanging up and grabbed the one for her car, completely oblivious to the way your eyes were raking her up and down, licking your lips and turning around just so you could keep yourself calm. “Okay, I think it’s this one— are you alright?” She giggled upon noticing you weren’t facing her anymore.

“Yeah, just hot in here, no?” You huffed softly under your breath. “Might be in for a heatwave this week.”

More like you’re in heat. 

“Well, if it gets too hot in there, i’ll bring you something to drink, if you want.”

Your eyebrow quirked up as you turned slightly, looking at her with that stupid fuckin smirk. Oh, what a pretty housewife she is, you thought. “Thanks, Sweetheart.” The petname rolled off your tongue so smoothly and in a way that had Abby’s stomach fluttering.

“Y—You’re welcome.” Well fuck.

Just as you grabbed the keys from Abby’s soft hands, the sound of loud crying rang through the baby monitor and had the blonde frowning but quickly smiling at you again. That smile was going to get you into trouble. You were fucked. “Shit, sorry, I need to go and feed her. If there’s anything you need for the car, it—”

“Don’t worry, Love. I got everything i need.”

This time, you didn’t miss the dark crimson blush Abby was sporting as she rushed out of the kitchen to attend to her daughter.

—

After the next few weeks, you’ve considered Abby to be a good friend. You didn’t mind listening to her problems, you very much enjoyed being there for her when no one else seemed to notice how much she struggled. Having a newborn and an absent wife was no easy feat, especially when you feel like you’re doing it alone. 

The amount of times you’d been able to be there for her were piling up, one after the other, bringing you closer to her. It’s the only reason you felt the need to wish her a good evening before you exit for the night. All the grease and oil on your body, the aching in your lower spine bending over the hood, you need rest — badly. 

Coming through the garage, her car started acting up and giving her trouble so she hastily called you, again — you couldn’t find her in the living perched on the couch, where she’d usually be with her daughter but you couldn’t find Abby there. You climb up the stairs, going into the nursery when you see her cradled in Abby’s strong arms, but she uses every ounce of a gentle hand when her daughter’s in her care. 

With her eyes shut, she couldn’t have been possibly aware of how exposed she should feel. The dress she’d been wearing pulled down to her waist, her upper torso exposed, but all you could focus on was her breasts. Full, breathtaking breasts, her baby girl suckling on the milk funneling into the infant’s mouth. You try to move, look away, save yourself but you can’t. As if your feet are nailed to the hardwood, you’re unable to move an inch, only in awe of the women in front of you. 

The beautiful blonde taking away every last breath you have. 

You’re thinking about how much you wish to touch them, feeling the soft skin in your palm, how sensitive they would be, thumb grazing her lactating nipple. Would she whimper, whine, or even let a moan fall from her lips? The squeeze in your thighs is involuntary, the rapid beat of your clit as you drool over the sight of her breasts. They are so full, begging to be sucked and teased. Before you can help it, you’re drifting to unspeakable thoughts, the image of your mouth sucking on her nipples, another white substance falling on your tongue. Allowing your taste buds to revel in it as you swallow every drop. 

There’s an even more unimaginable thought coming to mind, one you’re not sure you can allow yourself to indulge in, if you do, there might be no point of return. Then you’re reminded of the sparkling rock on her left finger, the one that glimmers in the moonlight. Even if her wife isn’t around, you shouldn’t abuse that? Right? 

Abby begins to stir, blue eyes opening slowly as blonde eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Silently she questions the limits of a taboo dream and finite reality, her eyes adjusting to the bright light seeping from the hallway. 

Then there’s a creak, as soft as it should sound, the silence makes it echo. Abby comes to full alert, but then she just sees you. Yet, you feel like a deer in the headlights, caught red handed gawking at your employer’s wife. Vulnerable and exposed, and you’re acting like a teenager who's seeing tits for the first time. Severely, you’re in awe at the kind smile she offers as she cradles Remi to her chest. The sweet youngling, finding safety in the comfort of her mother’s arms. Too strong for her own good, after the little bits you’ve picked up from her over the past few weeks, all you can do is look upon her with intense admiration.

Abby motions for you to move closer, but you’re still nailed to the ground, too anxious to move any closer when she’s so exposed. You’re not sure if you can keep eye contact with her when your sight craves to drift south. 

Jesus, get your shit together. Fucking freak. 

Slowly, you get closer to her but thankfully she saves you, asking for the baby pink bib placed on top of the dresser. There’s also a blanket, but Abby doesn’t ask for it, leaving you even more puzzled. Does she not care to be covered? Perhaps, she feels comfortable? You try not to tumble down the dangerous black hole, wiping it from your mind entirely. 

“You think I would have remembered to grab it but she’s sleeping and I don’t want to wake her.” Abby coos at her daughter, lightly smoothing over her blonde hairline, almost invisible to the eye. 

“Yeah—” You speak quietly, not wanting to wake Remi. “Here.” 

Abby offers small thanks, with a gentle hand she wipes the milk from her face, making sure she’s clean of it as she continues to rock her to a peaceful slumber. “I wanna apologize,” You croaked out after a few minutes of comfortable silence, not wanting to startle either of them, as your eyes found a small canvas on the wall.

“Apologize?” Abby repeated, looking up from her daughter, a tired smile on her face, to find you no longer looking at her, more like admiring the paintings in the room over everything else. “For?”

“Interrupting something that’s very special between a mother and their child. It’s getting late, so i was just coming to find you to tell you i should be heading home, but i couldn’t find you, so” You were still nervous, rightfully so, but Abby didn’t seem to mind. She thought it was cute.

“My wife,” Abby paused, softly chuckling on how to explain it without seeming like she was overreacting. “She doesn’t, well, she never really has an interest in me doing this? I guess she just doesn’t like it, which is fine, but it’s okay that you’re here. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable that you’re standing there, so you can stop acting like it’s making me uncomfortable, please” She laughed. A beautiful sound you always want to hear from her. 

“She doesn’t stay with you?” Your reply was short, almost a scoff. “That seems a little shi— stupid.” You catch yourself quickly with a nervou laugh as you remember her child was quite literally still in her arms, in the same area as you and asleep. “I think it’s beautiful, if that helps. She’s missing out on a lot, you know?”

Abby doesn’t know how to repsond for a while. Part of you thinks you’ve overstepped on your words, insulted her wife in a way you didn’t mean to. But she just smiles at you again, and shakes her head. Those blue eyes piercing into yours which has you holding your breath at how pretty she looks. “It helps. A lot, actually. Thank you”

“You’re uh, welcome.” You nervously laughed and rubbed the back of your head. You didn’t know why she made you so nervous, but you were also not complaining about it too much. If anything, you loved it. Maybe that was because you were a freak. A freak who was thinking about touching her tits not even an hour ago. “I should really get going though, is there anything else i can help you with before i go?” You smiled.

Are you flirting right now? Shut the fuck up, she’s married.

“No, it’s okay,” Abby whispers, not wanting to wake her daughter up, who was soundly asleep in her arms. “You’ve done enough to help me, with the car and everything. I could make you something to eat when you’re here again? An extra thank you for helping me” She suggested, her lips curving up into a smile which has you forgetting how to breathe for a few seconds. 

“I would like that, Mrs Anderson”

“You can call me Abby, you know?”

Her question, such an innocent one on her end, had you smirking deviously, like the freak you were and looking at her like she was your prey and you were ready to pounce on her at any given moment. “Mommy sounds better rolling off my tongue. Well … to me at least” You gave her a subtle wink before walking out of the room.