#and the started going DOWN the stairs and i was surprised at that (as surprised as i could be in a fucked up half asleep dream state)

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, references to domestic abuse, mild sexuality

"Daryl?" you called down the stairs. It was dark down there, but not entirely. You could tell he had a dim light on. "I'm coming down!"

When you passed the doorframe at the bottom of the steps, you found him sitting on the edge of his bed with a bottle in his hands. He was staring at it like the label was in a foreign language, even though you could read "Buffalo Trace" from where you stood.

"What happened?" you asked him, your voice seemingly breaking his trance. He looked up at you, almost sheepishly, but only for a split second.

Daryl gulped at the tightness in his throat and shrugged. "Nothin' happened. Least—not to me," he said pointedly.

Your stomach somehow seemed to both sink and twist at the same time and you opened your mouth to say something but you came up empty. You struggled for something to say. "Where'd you get that?" you asked gesturing to the bottle.

"Oh, I—I found it on a run a while back. I always got a bottle of somethin' tucked away, ya know. Never know when ya might need it." He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"So, you're just planning on getting piss drunk then? Is that what this is?" you asked, and you couldn't keep an edge out of your voice. For the first time since you'd come in, Daryl looked up at you—really looked. He stared for a long moment and then reached over and set the bottle down on his nightstand with a loud clack.

He stood up, his broad shoulders and chest on full display as he paced over to you, his blue eyes narrowed. You found yourself backing up and suddenly your back hit the wall. A small gasp of surprise left you. Daryl still stepped in one more time, breaching that small buffer of space you usually maintained and staying there. "So, yer just gonna go back with him? Stay with him?" he growled.

You let out a shaky breath. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Yer s'posed to leave his ass before he fuckin' kills you. Or before I kill him," Daryl growled.

You gulped, your eyes flickering between his. "If I try to leave, then he will kill me," you whispered.

Daryl let out a long sigh and placed his palm flat on the wall beside your head, leaning toward you. With his other hand, he brushed a stray strand of your hair away from your face. "Ya really think I'd ever let a damn thing like that happen," he whispered.

Your heart was racing and your chest heaved with your breath now. You don't know for sure who started it—not for sure. It could have been that you reached up and placed your palm in the center of his chest and spoke his name. Or it could have been that Daryl simply crashed his lips down on yours, gripped your hip and pressed against you. It didn't matter. The next moment you were entirely wrapped up in him, entangled in each other. Before you knew it, he was kissing your neck and his hands were wandering your curves. Your fingers were in his hair and beneath his shirt, running over his strong muscles and hitching on his scars. Daryl lifted you and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him heatedly as he carried you to his bed and tipped you back onto it, crawling over you, desperate to keep his lips on yours or kissing your soft skin. One hand on your hip and the other smoothing over your arm and then lacing with your fingers, the heat between the two of you was building to a temperature that would surely consume you both.

But suddenly—reality came back and with a tremendous effort your ragged breathing turned into saying his name again. He felt you pulling back, pulling away. He leaned up over you and his blue eyes flickered over your face.

"I—I can't," you gasped, and it sounded like it broke your heart to say it. "We can't..."

You watched the turmoil roiling in his eyes. You hoped he could see how desperate for him you were... and understand why you couldn't.

"He dun deserve you... not that I do either," he breathed, still caged over your body, the heat of him pouring into your skin. He brushed your hair back from your face so tenderly that tears filled your eyes and you pulled in a stuttered breath. "But at least I'd always treat ya righ'. I'd never lay a hand on ya. Ya know that."

A tear broke out and ran down toward your temple. Daryl wiped the streak from your cheek. "I know," you said.

"We can have this. I can keep ya safe. Deal with him."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Then don't. Just let me do it."

No prompt today... and maybe a full one shot on this soon? One of those things that just appeared and struck me until I put it down. I'm working on our next update to The Ghost series, but it's been slow going with real life things happening! So hang in there with me.

[aespabangedup]

If you were adopted as a son into a family that thought sex between family members was normal and became a family of four, which female idols would you want to be your stepmother, step older sister, and step younger sister? And tell me about your daily routine with them.

Writer's Note: From an aespa smut writer's point of view, it would be mommy Karina, big sis Giselle and little sis Winter and Ningning. But as that would be too predictable and their age gap isn't big, I am going to choose different idols with different ages.

LOVE FUCKING FAMILY WENCHES

I got adopted into a family of three woman who believes in incest and free use among family members......

What? I know you are surprised but it's true. Incestuous family does exist and they are heaven for those who loves multiple sex partners under same roof.

Guess what was the criteria for choosing me? My glorious 7 inch cock. My new mommy Jihyo gave me a tit job at the day of our interview. When I choked her deep throat, forced my bulbous dick all the way in shooting ropes after ropes of healthy man milk down her food pipe, she immediately choosed me as her new son.

She divorced her 4th husband for cheating. The family have free use rule with one more rule and that is you can't fuck other women without the permission of your womens in family which he broke fucking around everyone's wife and daughter in the neighborhood, without their permission.

So Jihyo divorced him that month. Instead of marrying 5th time, she decided to adopt a son this time, hoping a younger male will be easier to control around. Plus her daughters prefer young meat fucking them over middle aged men. So a big dick young male is all she needed.

The day she brought me home, we had car sex all the way while her electric car drove us safely. Her lose holes were perfect for my thick boy as she keep riding me all the way. I relexed my face in her massive boobs as she keep releasing her pent up frustration, soaking my dick and balls with her cum.

When we arrived I pick her up, my 7 inch cock still in her relatively tighter ass hole while she crossed her legs around my hip. I walked toward the door, pressed the bell while pumping upward in her gut, faster as my bladder was feeling full. I needed to pee soon.

A cute young girl in her 20 opened the door, not surprised at all seeing her mom getting fucked. It was her younger daughter Hanni, mommy had shown me her picture before. "Good morning little sis," I said before quickly running toward the sofa and throw Jihyo on her back. I pounded her ass for one more min and cummed my ball empty in her ass, yellowish discharge coming out when I pull back as she tries to catch her breath.

I was in a hurry to pee so asked Hanni where is the toilet, but surprising me she ran toward my still hard dick and sat down saying "I am your urinal" and take my dick in her mouth, cupping my balls with hands. She made me lose all control as I pushed all the way in and pissed my bladder empty straight in her stomach. I took my time peeing as you don't get to pee like this everyday, Hanni drinking all of it pushing aside her gag reflex.

"You should stop drinking piss Hanni. You got sick after last week's party becoming the urinal in dare game." Said my new older sister Somi while walking down the stairs from 2nd floor, she was full nude. Her whole body was glistining with sweat, her toned abs, bubble boobs and tight butt in full display. Her hip was swaying around, she is such an expensive slut!

It was weekend and Somi work out harder in free days. She don't wear anything while working out in home. Seeing her tight little pussy made me hard again, I was still in Hanni's mouth. Hanni looked up to me and started blowing me, my piss dripping out her lips. Somi went to the fridge to pick her shakes.

"If you have to drink then drink cum, cum is full of protein and helps building muscle." She walked to our fucked up mom with the juice in her hand. "Good morning Somi," said Jihyo while her legs were still spread wide. My cum was dripping out of her gaped holes. Somi insert her two fingers into mommy's pussy and scoped out some of my cum and send it in her mouth.

"You are too salty, I'll give you a proper diet to make your cum tastier. You have to cut down your intake of junk foods lil bro." She cleaned her fingers and then started to slurp mommy's pussy, putting her tongue inside her ass and pussy making sure not a single drop of my cum goes to waste.

I knew I had the license to fuck any of them but seeing how erotic three of them with each other sent me over the edge. My cute little Hanni was trying her best to give my massive dick deepthroat, but I took the matter into my own hand and started to face fuck her. By the time I ended up cumming deep in Hanni's throat, Somi licked Jihyo clean. I came undone making sure Hanni drank every single drop of my fluid.

Hanni's face turned red from suffocation, mouth agaped and tongue lolled out like a doggie in heat. Somi came and grab my dick to check my grith. "At least your size is good lil bro. Save up some nutritious cum for me next time." She then proceeded to take my entire length down her throat, surpassed her gag reflex like a pro. She pull out, give Hanni's urinal a deep kiss to taste my fluids further and goes back to where she came from.

It's been a year and half since then. I have fucked my mommy and sis countless times. We have sex oftens, but it's not like we keep fucking all day around. Even deranged fuckers got a life to live, ok? So it's more like if we got the drive to do it or not.

It's important to say what my women do. Jihyo is head secretary of a middle aged conglromate, well more like his mistress. Her main job is warming his cock in office, riding his dick while he do all the important job. He fucks her everyday, solo or in a group with his clients. Entire office know it so as his illegitimate wife she wield a lot of power. Her favorite style is showing her entire cleavage wearing pushed up bra, making her huge tities a thing of eye candy. I even watched him fucking her once as she called me over and let me see how my mama is a corporate bitch.

Somi work as a high end club dancer. From dancing on a pole or on multiple men's dick, she is the epitome of a sex doll. Getting fucked daily from men around world who she never met or will never meet is normal for her. She wanted to be an idol but got sold into prostitution instead. By the time she got rescued by our bitchy mom with her own connection in brothels, she was already too used to sex. So she took prostitution as her career. There are even some porn videos of her in the internet, getting millions of views.

Hanni is a nympho college student. That's all she is. She barely study but still get straight A by fucking all teachers in college. There is not a single straight boy in her college who haven't fucked her up in a group or alone. She never come back home in perfect shape after a party. They always end up gangbanging her until she is reduced to nothing but a piece of filthy meat. Once they called us from a party. We had to rush and take her to a hospital for alcohol intoxication and sexual abuse. It took her a month to be my urinal again.

Considering it's a weekend and we all have the sex drive, then it's most probably mom who sleeps the night with me. Her warm big boobs is used to comfort me, suffocating me between her mounds while I comfort her overused gaped cunt with my big cock. I keep pistoning comfort inside her until both of us pass out from exhaustion.

At the morning we wake up late from our sinful love making, go to take a shower togather as we passionately clean each other, licking and kissing our holes. My little lovely urinal Hanni prep the breakfast and serve it. Somi is always in her birthday dress. Mom goes out for work as sexual secretaries have no weekend. I goes to Somi's room and exercise with her in many Kamasutra position. Hanni sometimes join us, sometimes she just do her other work. I end the exercise getting steamy all again, leaving my wench of a big sis Somi cum drunk and exhausted on the mat. Hanni is definitely getting her daily dose of nutritional piss if she call me over for studying. It's just an excuse as we fuck like rabbit most of the time with occasional study talk.

That's it. 🖕🏻

[marsdql]

Unexpected — ༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

Extended verison of caught off guard !! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

Pairing: Brother’s best friend!Heeseung x fem!reader

Synopsis: You're shocked to discover that your longtime crush Heeseung is now friends with your brother, leading to a fanfiction-like (literally) story.

Genre/warnings: fluff, little suggestive?, brother's bestfriend, reader is 3 years younger, mention of stalking, alloooottt of teasing, no dividers in between the paragraphs… | wc: 25k I think.

𝙈𝙖𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: im so extremely sorry for the ungodly word count I wrote each part separately and forgot to take in consideration the amount of writing I was doing.. The poll said to not make this into parts so I just put it all in one post though!!!!!!! + Masterlist coming soon, request me your suggestions (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ okay enjoy now

Your brother had made new friends during the first semester because of a lot of senior group projects, which made the house busy. Your brother and his friends wanted more quiet places to work on things, like each other's houses. It's strange that it was always at your house and not his friends' or the library, but whatever.

You didn’t mind much, until a particular someone came over, Heeseung, the 6’0 slim brunette senior you’ve been crushing on since you were in middle school, now a freshman. You followed him around everywhere with your friends, making it so obvious that you guys were following HIM. You would send him holiday letters provided by the school, stall his social media, follow his friends and him at one point until he removed you over a silly kpop story... everything… and now, he’s with your brother?! Since when!

Bad thoughts filled your mind as you remembered all the embarrassing moments he caught you staring at him, thinking that he’d tell your brother all of it if he sees you and finds out that you’re the sister of the guy he’s getting closer to each day. But you were hungry, so hungry, you needed to eat, you always do before taking a nap, it’s like a routine, he can’t just ruin your routine. You start making plans on how to get to the kitchen without Heeseung and your brother spotting you. After a few minutes of thinking, you finally build up the courage to get downstairs and pray for the best.

You tip-toe your way down the stairs, attempting to make as little noise as possible, and to your surprise, the two boys are on the island table right across the fridge, you’re doomed, he’s going to see you, you can’t just walk back upstairs!

“Y/n? What are you doing, you look so stupid right now.” Your brother blurts out which makes you jolt up and fix your posture. Shoot. You forgot that they can see you from their perspective more than you can see them. But you act fast, “huh? Oh! Hi um.. I was just counting how many steps we have to the stairs.. for a math project!” What the heck was that response? Whatever, it’ll do. As you finish your sentence, you give yourself an excuse to get closer so that it doesn’t get too awkward, and there he is, the Heeseung of your dreams, locking eyes with you with his stale and cold expression planted on his face, not one tiny bit of shock in his face when seeing you.


 “Hey by the way, don’t take a nap, mom wants you to help her with groceries, she’s coming in a minute, wait in the living room or something just don’t go back upstairs” your brother says before putting all his focus back to the project he’s doing with sousou. At this point, you mutter out a small “okay” and forget the snack you came downstairs for, heading to the couch to go on your phone and act like nothing happened(secretly glancing at Heeseung from time to time.)

30 minutes later, your mother comes back while your brother and mister take a bathroom break. You head to the garage, opening the door for your mother to bring the groceries in for you to then place them on the counter. You’re holding big heavy bags, making you groan trying to pick them all up, then all of a sudden, as you're trying to get up, you feel the weight getting lighter and lighter, thinking you're stronger than you thought, but to your surprise… It's the dream man helping you. “Are you that lazy? Couldn’t you have just picked them one at a time? Hm?” He says as he coughs out a small chuckle, picking up the bags with ease. You can’t do anything but stare at him and place them on the table, your lips forming an O but unable to make a sound or blurt any words out. Before you get yourself to say anything, he cuts you off with a “You’re not slick, we both know exactly why you’re so shy” what…????? “I’m not shy at all?! I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You scream before the nervousness gets to you. You never thought your first conversation with Heeseung was going to be like this. “Oh yeah? You think I don’t know what you do? All the letters you sent me the past 2 years? Common now, I’m not stupid hhh…” suddenly, he lets go of the bags and gets closer to you, your brother still in the washroom and your mother still outside. His cold expression is still there but with a slight smirk. Your cheeks and nose get red quickly, making him only grin harder as he sees the effect he has on you. “You wouldn’t want your brother to see all the cheesy things you’ve done, let alone your mother, hmph? Of course you wouldn’t want that, you’re such a nice girl they would never think you’d do that, you’re just a sweet girl who goes to school and hangs out with her friends, definitely doesn’t beg them to follow me around, right?” He’s so close to you, his words only making you blush harder. His eyes shift to the door as he watches your mother call for him “Oh hello Heeseung! Would you be a sweetheart and help me with these bags? Y/n, please put the milk away! I forgot something at that store, I need to go back and pick it up.” Of course, the young man quickly obeyed your mother and helped her out, leaving you red and shoving your face in the fridge to cool down, you’re cooked, you have no idea what's taking your brother so long, but it feels like an eternity… Since when did LEE HEESEUNG have the courage to say that? What’s he gonna say next???? You keep replaying the words he said a few seconds ago, making you go crazy all over again.

Hours later, 22:00, your brother and his friend passed out on the counter of the kitchen as you were laying in bed, bored and unable to think of anything except the incident that happened earlier. Your best friend would always write fanfiction of you and hee as a joke, not thinking anything of it because you knew you were not delusional enough to think a guy 3 years older than you would actually notice you or look your way.

Abruptly, you feel the urge to go to the bathroom, wanting to wash the guilt written all over you face from the amount of overthinking. As you get to the entrance, you notice a black statue from across the hallway, making your heart drop as it walks closer to you. Suddenly, your screams wake up the entire neighborhood, "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I don't know what I did but I'm sorry I'll never wish death upon anyone else who likes Mingyu and joshua! I promise god I'll never ever hope that all S.coups fangirls except me will fall in a hole!" you close your eyes shut as you squeal and think its the end of your days.

Until that skinwalker finally decides to open his mouth and.. "BOO!" Heeseung screams as he shakes your shoulders, not initially intending on scaring you until he realized that you couldn't see his figure. Why did it have to be him again?! "Hey, I'm joking, calm down, you're okay. It's just me. What was all that blabbering about?" he says, again, with his famous chuckle you've probably heard more than actual words from his mouth. "You can't just do that! It's dark, nighttime and it's just annoying!" you wail, feeling surprised that you managed to actually say something to his face. "Huh? feisty, calm down scaredycat, do you usually see things?" You swallow, knowing that you not only see things, but hear things at night as well.

There's an awkward silence between you two, both standing in the dark with nothing but the light of the bathroom reflecting on eachothers skin. "So? You ain't gonna speak ‘bout nothing YOU'VE been doing? You just gonna stay quiet like that?" You gulp hard, since when was he this bold and confident? What did he expect you to say, then there you are, too scared and shy to talk again, obvious shyness on your face, making heeseung aware of it, once again. He would always secretly tease you, manspread in front of you while looking at you, trying not to stare at him back and attempting to put all your focus on your friends. He would lean against the wall and look at you up and down as you walked past him, with your face buried in your friend's back, trying not to go crazy over his state. He knew the effect he had on you, since the start, it boosted his ego the most. "You shy, doll?" He whispers as he gets closer, not scared of anyone catching you both being so close, almost heads touching.

“W-what if someone catches us like this?, you can't be so close..” You mutter under your breath, forcing the words out of your mouth knowing that you don't really want him to move. “Hm? You gonna stop me? I'll stop if you tell me to, you just gotta use your words, pretty” he whispers once again, looking down on you as he pushes both your bodies onto the wall near the door of the bathroom with his chest. Your lips are shut, unable to get yourself to push him away or say a word.

He feels you slowly giving in, he knows you would, you might know information about you but he knows all your body language, he knows how nervous you get when you're alone with him and he's ready to take advantage of you all. GO HIT THAT GUM JILGEONG!!(sorry i got bored) You feel 1000 knots in your stomach from his breath hitting you cold neck, seconds later, “Take me to your room.”

Saying that his words shocked you was a huge understatement, you were feeling so many emotions that you just went numb. Sight went foggy and you couldn't think anymore, the last thing you remembered was showing him the way to your bedroom. Heading to your bed with wobbly legs due to the fear you were feeling, you had zero idea on what was going to happen. How is this the first day you talk to Heeseung and it's already this crazy? You always imagined scenarios and insane stuff, but now it feels like you just manifested them all because this craziest one is coming to life.

“Cute room. Surprised you don't have any photos of me.” The tall man says as he throws himself on the bed. At this point, you would've been able to speak to him like a normal person, but all his flirtatious words made u only use your movements, no verbal communication in sight. He stares at your BT21 plushies with disgust, pushing them off the bed with his foot, is he really still annoyed about that instagram post? Or is he still jealous? “Hate those people” he huffs as he turns to his side, seeming amused with your sweet candy-like scent on your bed. “Why are you scared of your own bed?” He comments as he watches you stare at him from your desk, realizing that you arent on your bed because HE'S ON IT. “I-im not scared, maybe you're just too big for my bed and I can't fit.. Fatty..” ‘What'd you just call me?’ “Huh? What! I didn't say a-anything?” ‘No no i deeefinitely heard something, did you just call me fat?’ “Okay yes! I did, am I lying though? You're not slick, I know the locker you share with Jay is greasy as hell!” you squeal as you make a disgusted face. ‘Yeah? You saw me get out of class to get a cookie too? Or were you too busy trying to hide from me to be able to see what was in my hand?’ Shoot, You cant reply to him with anything, both answers are wrong.. ‘Yeah that's what i thought.’

“W-what are you doing in my room, why do you wanna be here?” You ask him, innocently. ‘Because I don't break my back sleeping on the couch and I have enough manners to not barge into your brother's room when he's asleep.’ “It's better if you sleep in my brother's room than anyone finding out you slept in mine…” 'I'll leave before anyone wakes up. Comon, I wont do anything.’ It's not like he’d do anything anyway, he's as nonchalant as ever and obviously wouldn't try anything on you, he knows you wouldn't actually give into THAT, plus, he's glad youre not like that, atleast at your age.

As Heeseung takes over your bed, you are still in shock. He is sprawled out like he owns the place, watching you from the other side of the room with a small smile on his face. When someone dares to call you out on your personal space, you feel both irritated and agitated.

He pats the empty spot on the bed beside him with the same smirk and asks, “Are you really just going to stare at me from over there?”

You pause, but you cannot maintain any resistance and end up stumbling over. You take care to maintain some distance between you while sitting on the edge, but he does not let you off that easily.

Hee laughs and creeps closer, making you all too aware of the distance vanishing between you two. “Calm down, I don’t bite.” When you look up, you see him observing you with that recognizable sparkle in his eye that indicates he is relishing every moment of it.

You make an effort to minimize it by rolling your eyes, but your cheeks’ redness most likely shows that you are not paying much attention. “Heeseung, what are you even doing here? Wouldn’t you be better off downstairs or not settling into my room?”

With a low chuckle, he leans back comfortably without shifting. With a playful tone, he raises his eyebrows and asks, “What, do you not like me here? Your mom is still out shopping, and your brother is unconscious. I thought, why don’t I keep you company since it’s just the two of us?”

Even though he still teases, his eyes are now softer. For a moment, he seems to be genuinely interested in you rather than just making jokes, as if he is looking at you differently than he has in the past. As the air between you thickens and you feel trapped but unwilling to move, your pulse quickens.

He leans forward abruptly, getting so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure you actually want me to leave?” He whispers as his gaze moves over your face, capturing every tiny expression you are unable to conceal.

You catch the words in your throat. Before you can respond, he raises one hand and gently brushes a flyaway hair out of your face, his fingers remaining in place for a beat too long.

He whispers, “Tell me to stop, and I will,” in a low voice that is so intimate it chills you.

However, for some reason, you remain silent. You cannot decide whether you want him to stay or enjoy the excitement of him being this close to you and staring at you as if you are the only person in the room.

All he does is smile, that knowing smile returning to his face. He leans back and whispers, “Thought so,” remaining close enough to feel the electricity of the distance.

The weight of the moment presses down on you in the most euphoric way, making it seem like it will last forever. Even though Heeseung’s smile is still there, his eyes seem softer now, almost tender. He seems to be assessing each response, blush, and look as though recording them all.

In a low, informal voice, he begins, “So.” “Will you explain to me why you stare at me all the time, or will you continue to act as though it’s not obvious?”

He tilts his head, leaning a little closer to make sure you are not escaping too easily, but your face turns red hot, your heart pounding, and you quickly turn your head away. Please do not be so shy around me right now. He laughs softly and adds, “We both know you have been looking for a while.”

It feels like the words are stuck in your throat when you try to say something. He moves, keeping you cornered with his arm braced against the headboard next to your shoulder. The closeness is dizzying.

At last, you are able to find your voice. “I’m not… Really, I wasn’t. It’s not as if I—” His gaze prevents you from forming a coherent sentence, so you trail off.

Evidently taking pleasure in your agitated state, he laughs. “So it was not intentional that I always caught you staring at me in the hallway or whenever you passed by with your friends?”

Your lack of response is sufficient, and he smiles, obviously enjoying your response.

He leans slightly closer, until you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, and murmurs, “I guess I was right, huh?” He says quietly, “But you don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” in a tone that has become more earnest and almost comforting. “I kinda enjoy it.”

You look up and meet his eyes as those final words give you a start. They have an unexpected quality that makes it seem as though he has known you as well as you have known him. There is still teasing, but it has a deeper, more genuine undertone.

“Wait—what?” Your voice barely rises above a whisper as you manage to blurt out.

His eyes remain fixed on yours as he smiles, softer this time. “Are you sure you don’t know?”

You do not trust yourself to say anything more, so you shake your head. He sighs as if he is having a hard time believing what he is going to say.

“Y/n,” he whispers, “I have been interested in you since long before tonight.”

The words linger between you, vibrating with an intensity that catches you completely off guard, and you freeze. Heeseung’s eyes soften, becoming completely serious instead of playful. His closeness now seems more like a confession than a tease.

You mumble, “Wait,” hardly believing your own voice. “You have not been ignoring me?”

He nods slowly, his previous sly smile giving way to something more real and vulnerable. “Yes, I have noticed you, but I wouldn’t say I have been staring at you. Do you think I have not noticed your gaze on me? Or the way you become silent around me? It’s clear, y/n.”

You are rendered speechless by the shock of what he said. Your heart is thumping in your chest and your mind is racing as you try to process this new reality. You have always known Heeseung was self-assured, perhaps even arrogant, but this? You have never seen him like this before. It is honest and unvarnished, and for a split second, you cannot even tell if you are dreaming.

Trying to gather yourself, you ask, “Are you serious?” but your words come out more breathless than you meant.

He responds softly, “I don’t joke about this kind of stuff,” as his thumb lightly brushes the side of your arm, warming your skin. “I have been trying to determine whether you were feeling the same way or if I was just dreaming.”

Your pulse quickens at the thought, and you bite your lip. The air feels heavier and thicker now, and the room feels smaller. In this moment of unsaid tension, everything around you seems to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you.

You do not say anything for a few seconds, allowing his words to register. You have long admired Heeseung from a distance and wondered what it would be like to be near him. However, you never imagined that he would share your sentiments. And now here he is, publicly acknowledging it, his eyes full of sincerity.

“I…,” you finally manage to say, “I did not know you would notice,” in a hesitant and low voice. “After all, I believed I was being subtle. I did not want to cause any strangeness.”

Hee laughs, his voice deep and comforting. “Clever? You? I promise you, y/n, there is nothing subtle about the way you gaze at me. However, I enjoy it. I have enjoyed it for some time.

For a moment, you question whether you are dreaming as the words hit you like a wave. The fact that he is sitting so close to you and that his hand is now resting on the bed between you two, inches from where yours is, makes the entire situation seem unreal. Even though everything is so personal, there is still a lot of uncertainty, which makes it difficult to completely unwind.

You ask, just above a whisper, “So, what now?” as a mix of anxiety and excitement rises inside of you.

Heeseung’s face softens as he inhales deeply. “Now?” he asks in a soft yet purposeful tone. “y/n, all I am waiting for now is for you to say what you want. Because I am listening to whatever it is. I would rather not hurry you. I have been waiting for you to solve it as well.”

For the first time in what seems like an eternity, you release the tension that has been building between you, and your heart skips a beat. You see the honesty and rawness that mirror your own feelings when you look into his eyes.

You look at him with fresh clarity and say, “I think I have figured it out,” in a quiet but firm voice.

It is the same spark in his eyes that has always held you, and Heeseung’s smile is back, albeit softer this time. “Yes? What did you discover?”

As you slowly extend your hand and touch his, you sense a spark of electricity.

His smile grows, and everything seems to be in harmony at that precise moment. There is no longer any hesitation or act of deceit. Now that you and him are at last in agreement, you can look forward to seeing where this unspoken bond may take you.

With his hand now resting on top of yours, Heeseung whispers, “I am glad you figured it out,” his voice barely audible above a whisper. “Because I have been anticipating that statement from you.”

And then everything is different. Something new—something thrilling, something genuine—replaces the tension and the air feels lighter

Neither of you could have imagined as Heeseung leans in and lightly touches your lips. A thrill is sent through you by the gentle touch of Heeseung’s lips against yours, but it is cut short by the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. Panic sweeps through you in a flash, and your heart jumps into your throat. With wide eyes, you instinctively glance at the door as though it might save you from the looming catastrophe as you swiftly pull back.

You hear your brother’s voice, loud and clearly irritated, as the door creaks open just a crack. “Y/nnie? Are you in there?”

Quick as ever, Heeseung leans back and puts just enough distance between himself and you to appear casual, but you can tell he is not nearly as shaken as you are by the way his eyes dart to you and the faint smile that is still tugging at his lips.

You force yourself to swallow in an attempt to control your panic. “Yes, I’m here!” you call out, your voice a little too high-pitched for comfort.

Your brother is standing in the doorway, obviously bewildered, as the door opens wider. His brow furrows in that manner that indicates he is going to ask a ton of questions, and he blinks twice as his eyes dart from you to Heeseung. “What on earth are you two doing in here?”

Your mind is a jumble of ideas and excuses as you fumble for the right words. “Nothin’! Nothing bad, really. We were just—uh, talking.”

Your brother folds his arms across his chest and his eyes narrow. “Talking?” he asks again in a suspicious tone. “You two talk like this all the time?”

Heeseung gives you a barely contained smile when you meet his gaze, as though he finds the entire situation humorous. He is not phased at all, of course, because he has always had that arrogant confidence that helps him get out of a tight spot. In the meantime, you are just a few seconds away from losing it due to embarrassment.

“Indeed, we were just catching up. We haven’t seen one another in a long time,” Heeseung’s voice is smooth and unaffected, as if a single sentence would allay your brother’s suspicions.

Your brother looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Catching up in her room, you two? Doesn’t that sound a bit suspicious?”

You give Heeseung a quick, frantic glance, hoping he will save you, but he is taking too much pleasure in this. “Again, we were just conversing. Nothing strange,” Heeseung says with a nonchalant shrug. “But we can go if you have to. I don’t want to invade your territory.” He says with a chuckle.

As though this whole exchange is one big headache he did not sign up for, your brother pauses, still glaring, and then sighs. Then he turns back to the door and murmurs, “Anyway, just don’t make it weird.” “You understand what I mean when I say that you don’t want to hear anything too strange from this room later?”

Heeseung shakes his head and lets out a barely contained laugh as he leaves. His voice is light as he says, “He’s got nothing on us,” but his grin remains mischievous and a bit too knowing.

With your heart still pounding, you release a breath you were unaware you were holding. You mutter, attempting to steady yourself by running a hand through your hair, “I can’t believe he just walked in like that.”

Leaning back against the bed, Heeseung laughs. “Slow down. In any case, he’s too ignorant to solve anything.”

Despite his playful tone, there is a surprising undertone of protectiveness in his voice. He looks you in the eyes, and for a brief moment, you are the only two of you. The tension from earlier returns, but this time it is different—more at ease.

You start to say, “Well, I suppose we should wait until he returns downstairs before we—” but Heeseung cuts you off, his eyes softening.

With a tone that conveys something unsaid, he asks softly, “Before we what?”

You look him in the eyes and feel the tension between you two return. This time, the separation between you is not about actual distance but rather about the potential outcomes and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. You can’t shake the feeling that something could change everything right in front of you.

You confess, “I… I don’t know,” not knowing how to move through the distance between you but unwilling to let go of the bond you have just found. “However, I am aware that I’m not yet prepared for him to solve this.”

With his confidence fully restored, Heeseung grins. “Don’t be concerned. We will resolve the issue. Furthermore, both you and I are aware of what really happens next.”

The ease with which he returns to his typical, carefree self makes you laugh and shake your head. However, you realize that perhaps—just possibly—you are ready to stop acting like everything is easy and let whatever happens between you and Heeseung play out naturally as you sit there with him and hear your brother’s voice reverberating in your head.

Reblogs & Comments are appreciated!

[ marsdql ] •⩊•

[lvnleah]

Getting Myle.

November 19th 2023

"Can we get a puppy, Mummy? Please? Pretty please?" Rory asked, showing Viv and Beth the drawing of her puppy she had made. 

For a while now, Rory had been asking for a puppy. Ever since she had met Rona, Beth’s family dog, she had fallen in love with the idea of getting a puppy that could stay with her forever. They had taken care of Rona for the week and Rory had become inseparable from her, ever since that week Rory had been asking when she could look after Rona again. 

Rory placed her hands on Viv’s knees gently. "Mamma, you know how much I love Rona! And she loves me too, right? I promise I’ll take care of a puppy. I’ll walk it, and feed it, and…and…even clean up after it! Please?”

Viv laughed as she pulled the young girl up onto her lap. “Mijn meisje, getting a puppy is a big responsibility. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

Rory nodded as she slipped down from Viv’s lap, her pink tutu bouncing around, “I’m ready! I really want a puppy!”

Beth’s heart melted a little at her daughter’s enthusiasm. Rory had spent hours playing with Rona and it was clear the idea of having a dog of her own had taken root in her heart.

“We’ll have to think about it, darling,” Beth said gently. “But we’ll see what we can do, okay?”

Rory’s face lit up with hope. “Okay!” She leapt up to hug both of her moms, planting a quick kiss on each of their cheeks before running off to draw another picture of her dream puppy.

Beth and Viv had talked about getting a dog even before Rory had started asking. They both loved animals and knew how much joy a puppy could bring to their family. And after seeing how much it meant to Rory, they decided the time was right. Over the next few weeks, they quietly planned the perfect surprise for their little girl.

A few weeks later after they had finished training, they surprised Rory with her own puppy. Vic had offered to babysit Rory while Beth and Viv went to collect the puppy.  

“Oh Vivi, look at her!” Beth cooed as they approached the front door. “She’s adorable! Roo’s going to love her.”

Viv smiled, her eyes fixed on the small ball of fluff in Beth's arms. "She's perfect," she agreed, gently reaching out to stroke the puppy's soft ears. The little dog looked up at her with wide, curious eyes, her tiny tail wagging furiously.

Viv slid the key into the door before pushing it open with the bottom of her foot, the couple quietly entered their house. They could hear Rory and Vic’s laughter coming from Rory’s bedroom. 

As soon as Vic heard the door open she left Rory in her room, greeting Viv and Beth at the door. “Oh she’s adorable!” The Dutch girl cooed. “Roo’s in her room, I’ll leave you guys to it but I’ll come back later!”

“Thanks Vic!” Viv smiled as Vic left the house. 

“We’re back! Roo, can you come here for a second?” Beth called out as she walked through the front door, carefully the puppy. 

“Coming, Mummy!” Rory’s voice echoed from upstairs, she appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later, her face lighting up with curiosity when she saw the puppy. “A puppy? It’s so cute!”

Rory ran down the stairs as Beth sat on the floor, she knelt in front of Beth and reached out to pet the puppy. She giggled as she licked her hand. 

“She’s adorable!” Rory smiled, cuddling the puppy, “What's her name?”

“Myle,” Viv said softly, “This is Myle, your very own puppy.”

Rory’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the tiny puppy in front of her. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she covered her mouth with both hands, her emotions overwhelming her.

“You got me a puppy?” she whispered, her voice trembling. 

Both Beth and Viv nodded, “We did, sweetheart. Myle is all yours,” Beth said, her voice gentle.

Rory burst into tears, her sobs filled with pure joy as she threw her arms around Beth, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried, her heart overflowing with happiness.

The tiny puppy barked excitedly, her tail wagging as if she understood just how special this moment was. Rory pulled back from the hug and scooped Myle up into her arms, holding the warm, fluffy puppy close to her chest.

“She’s perfect,” Rory whispered, kissing Myle’s head as the puppy snuggled into her arms. “Can we take her to the park?!”

Viv smiled and nodded. "Of course we can, Roo. We’ll take her to the park, but first, we need to make sure she's comfortable in her new home."

Beth nodded in agreement. "Let’s show Myle around the house first, and let her settle for a bit then we can take her. How does that sound?”

Rory nodded eagerly, standing up with Myle still snuggled in her arms. "C’mon, Myle! I’ll show you my room!" She darted off, the puppy peeking over her shoulder as they went up the stairs together.

They could hear Rory’s voice drifting down from upstairs as she excitedly introduced Myle to all of her toys, talking to the puppy as if she were an old friend. They followed the girl upstairs, watching the sweet moment from the doorway. 

After a little while, Rory came over with Myle trailing closely behind her, the puppy’s tiny paws tapping softly against the floor. "Myle likes my room, but she really wants to go outside now!" 

"How about we get her leash on and head to the park?" Viv said as they made their way downstairs. They grabbed the bright pink leash they had picked out for the puppy, Rory helped clip it onto Myle’s collar, and together they headed out the door.

The park was only a short walk, and as they arrived, Myle’s tail wagged furiously as she took in all the new sights and smells. Rory skipped ahead, the leash in her hand as she carefully guided her new friend across the grass. Myle followed eagerly, occasionally stopping to sniff a flower or investigate a patch of dirt.

Beth and Viv sat down on a nearby bench, watching as Rory and Myle played together, their laughter filling the air. “This was a good idea,” Beth said softly, leaning her head against Viv’s shoulder.

Viv nodded, her eyes never leaving their daughter. “It really was. Seeing Roo so happy… it makes everything worth it.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the park, Rory and Myle finally tired themselves out. Rory sat down in the grass, Myle curling up in her lap, content and sleepy after a day full of excitement.

“I think she’s going to sleep well tonight,” Beth chuckled, watching the puppy yawn.

“Both of them will,” Viv agreed with a smile.

Rory looked up at her moms, her eyes shining with happiness. “She’s the best puppy in the whole world!”

On the walk home, Beth cradled Myle in her arms, Rory’s eyes never leaving the tiny pup. Myle soon grew tired as well as Rory, the puppy fell asleep in Beth’s arms while Rory tiredly cuddled into Viv’s neck.  

Once they were home, Rory wasted no time to get back to playing with the puppy. Rory giggled as she followed Myle around, a new light in her eyes.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of laughter and play. Rory’s energy seemed to grow as she threw a small ball for Myle to fetch, clapping her hands when the puppy brought it back with enthusiasm. Beth and Viv watched from the kitchen, their hearts swelling with love and pride.

Later that evening, there was a knock at the door. Rory rushed to answer it, her face lighting up when she saw who it was. 

“Vic! Steffy!” Rory exclaimed, her excitement spilling over as she pulled the door wide open. 

“We heard you have someone new to introduce to us!” Steph said with a grin, matching Rory’s excitement. 

Rory’s smile stretched even wider as she scooped up Myle. “This is Myle! She’s our new puppy!”

Vic crouched down to give Myle a gentle scratch behind the ears. “She’s adorable, Roo. Your asking finally worked then?”

“It did! She’s the best gift ever!” Rory beamed as she set Myle back down. 

Steph smiled warmly as she watched Rory's joy spill over. "She certainly looks like she's already fitting right in," she said, “We’ll have to arrange a playdate for her and Calvin!”

"She really is," Beth agreed, as they made their way into the living room. "It’s like she was meant to be part of our family all along."

Rory’s face glowed with pride as she led Vic and Steffy into the living room, eager to show them how Myle had already made herself at home. The adults followed, sharing a few knowing smiles as Rory enthusiastically showed them every corner of the room, from the cosy blanket on the couch to the small basket of toys they had bought just for her.

As the evening wore on, the house filled with the sounds of laughter and conversation. Vic and Steph stayed for dinner, and Rory proudly took on the role of hostess, making sure Myle was never out of sight. The puppy had quickly settled in, her little tail wagging as she happily accepted all the attention she was getting.

After dinner, Rory pulled out a board game and convinced everyone to play. They gathered around the coffee table, Myle curling up in Rory's lap once again, content and sleepy. The game was filled with playful banter, teasing, and the occasional outburst of giggles from Rory whenever she won a round.

As the night drew to a close, Steph got ready to leave, giving Rory one last hug and petting Myle goodbye. Vic ended up staying for the night, something that Rory got excited about 

After they left, Beth and Viv helped Rory get ready for bed. Myle followed Rory upstairs, her tiny paws padding softly behind her as if she had always known this was her home. Rory changed into her pyjamas and climbed into bed, Myle immediately curling up beside her. 

Beth and Viv stood in the doorway, watching as Rory gently stroked Myle’s fur, her eyes already beginning to droop with sleep after a bedtime story. 

“Goodnight, Roo," Beth whispered, leaning down to kiss Rory’s forehead.

"Goodnight, Mummy," Rory mumbled sleepily, her hand still resting on Myle’s warm little body.

Viv leaned down and kissed Rory’s cheek. "Sleep tight, Roo. We love you."

"Love you too, Mamma," Rory murmured, her voice barely audible as she drifted off to sleep.

Beth and Viv quietly left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar so that a tiny bit of light from the hallway peeked into the room as Rory and Myle slept peacefully together.

As they headed downstairs to join Vic, Beth turned to Viv, her eyes soft with emotion. "This was the best decision we ever made," she said quietly.

Viv nodded, pulling Beth into a gentle hug. "It really was," she agreed, “Our little girl is so happy.” 

[stvrnioloslvt]

stripes and polo's - Matt Sturniolo

genre: fluff / t.w: none

—★—

"i don't know what to wear..." you sigh throwing your phone on the bed, your friend on speaker.

"well, why don't you take something from matt's wardrobe? you only need a shirt anyway." you look around matt's room, checking to see if he has any spare shirts on the loose. however, it seemed that he had cleaned the whole room that morning, leaving it spotless and tidy.

"i can't exactly ask him, he's streaming with chris"

"and? just take one now and tell him later. i'm sure he won't mind, he has a thing for you in his clothes"

"that's not true," you mumbled, a rosy blush tinting your cheeks. you knew that your friend wasn't wrong, but it felt so wrong admitting that your childhood best friend had some sort of interest in you...and you did too.

"yeah yeah, if that helps you sleep at night..."

you ignore her remarks, digging through matt's clothes until you found something that caught your eyes: in the middle of black t-shirts, grey sweaters and an overall basic wardrobe, there was a striped polo hidden at the back of the drawer. you pulled it out, turning it around to check for any holes or stains.

"i think i found something," you announced to your friend, putting the polo on. it didn't fit you perfectly, as it was bigger than your shirts, but you didn't mind at all. you rose your hands to your face, smelling matt's familiar scent on the shirt, relishing in the comfort of one of your favourite people.

"i'm hanging up, i'll go tell him that i took his shirt. meet you up in ten minutes, yeah?"

"sure thing, love. see you in ten," and just like that, your friend had hung up.

you glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing your hair with your hands. you took your phone from the bed and exited matt's room, walking up the stairs to chris's room. as you got closer, you heard loud and clear the two boys screaming at each other, laughing at something stupid chris said.

your hand grabbed the knob, pulling it and entering the room just as chris started addressing the chat again. "chat, matt's type is the who would pull off man's polo's, i'm telling you." his wholehearted laugh died as soon as you came into view, his face falling into one of pure surprise. he mirrored matt's expression, eyes wide and open mouths as you made sure that you weren't completely visible for the viewers. a little bit of the polo's sleeve was in view, enough to make the chat explode with comments.

you blushed as you realised how terribly timed your appearance was, and how badly matt's reaction had affected you. he eyed you up and down, slowly, taking in each by each of your body, mindlessly reaching out to you, pulling you closer. your heart drummed harshly against your ribcage, trying to escape its home.

"matt-" you called out anxiously, trying to pull him out of his mind, reminding him that there were thousands of viewers who were waiting for his next move, observing like hawks looking for their next prey.

"you look...good," he breathed out, smiling softly at you. behind him, chris was frantically trying to cover up the scene that was unfolding in front of everybody's eyes.

"thank you," you whispered, "do you mind if i borrow this one for the evening? i'm meeting up with a friend of mine."

"go on, sweetheart, it's all yours."

you smiled, turning to leave the room. just as you were exiting, chris read one of the comments: "someone wrote 《matt should teach us how to manifest quickly, cause that shit was crazy》 and i couldn't agree more."

"what are you talking about, that's my best friend..." but even as he tried to hide his blush, it was clear that behind his hand there was a big smile plastered on his face.

who knew, maybe in the future things would change.

©stvrnioloslvt

hello everybody! hope you liked it, let me know if you'd like a part 2. also, would y'all like a tag list?

remember that my asks/requests are always open, i'd love to get to know you guys!

thank you.

love you all,

-bree♥︎

[eu-nicola]

Topper's sister

summary: since you were a child you had been in love with Rafe even though he never saw you, he always saw you as his best friend's little sister and nothing else, until one night everything changed.

warnings: nothing

word counter: 4487

author's note: english is not my first language

Since you were a child, you had always been Topper's "little sister." You grew up surrounded by him and his friends, watching from the shadows as they lived their days with a carefree attitude that you, in your innocence, envied. Among them all, Rafe Cameron had been your beacon. A platonic love that had begun when you were barely ten years old and he was already an arrogant and charming teenager.

It was impossible not to notice Rafe. With his easy laugh, his hair messy from the wind, and that confidence that radiated as if the world belonged to him. Every time he came to your house, he would greet you with a quick knock on the door before entering without waiting for an answer, and he always gave you the same gesture: a distracted flutter in his hair, as if you were a pet he found cute.

"Hey, little one." That was his standard greeting. A casual smile, without stopping to look at you for more than a second.

It made you burn inside. Not with hate, but with frustration. To him, you had always been the girl Topper shared DNA with, nothing more.

But time had passed. You were sixteen now, and you were no longer that shy girl who watched from the stairs as the boys joked and drank in the living room. You had changed. Your eyes, once filled with naivety, now knew how to see beyond the surface. Your hair fell in neat waves, and your style had become refined. You knew that many of Topper’s friends looked at you differently. The pool boy last week, Kelce at the last party, even some who were more distant were starting to seek your attention.

Except Rafe.

He was still the only exception.

One summer afternoon was an especially hot day, and as usual, Topper had invited his friends over to spend the day at the pool. You were in the kitchen, looking for something cold to drink, when you heard the familiar voices from the patio. Rafe’s laughter was loud, and as an automatic reflex, you looked out the window. There he was, with his cocky grin, throwing a ball back and forth with Topper and Kelce.

You decided to join in. You were no longer the girl who hid; now you knew how to move in his world. You came out with a glass of lemonade in your hand and headed toward the group.

“Maintaining the pool again?” you commented with a hint of mockery.

Topper rolled his eyes, but it was Kelce who answered first, smiling in a way you had seen before.

“There’s always room for you.”

Rafe didn’t even bother to look at you. He kept his eyes on the ball, as if your presence wasn’t worthy of his attention. That indifference stung, but you refused to let him notice.

“Sure, Kelce. Because you’re always such a gentleman,” you replied with a wink, playing along with his flirtation.

You sat down in one of the nearby chairs, letting the sun warm your skin as you feigned disinterest. You knew the others were looking at you, but your eyes were focused only on Rafe. Despite everything, he was still the one who held your attention.

After a while, the dynamic changed. Topper and Kelce decided to get into the water, leaving Rafe alone by the table. Without thinking much, you stood up and walked over.

“Are you going to stand there like a guard or are you going to have fun?” you asked, taking a seat next to him.

Finally, Rafe looked at you. His blue eyes met yours for a brief moment, and for the first time in a long time, he seemed to notice something different. But his usual smile quickly returned.

“Someone has to keep order. I don’t trust those two.” He pointed at Topper and Kelce, who were fighting over a float.

You rolled your eyes, leaning a little closer to him.

“Always so responsible, Rafe? You surprise me.”

“And you’re always so curious, huh?”

There was a mocking tone in his voice, but also something else. Something that made you wonder if, after all these years, Rafe was starting to see you as more than just Topper’s little sister. But you shouldn’t get your hopes up; you knew Rafe Cameron and his world of dangerous games all too well.

The afternoon passed without any major problems. The boys joked around and competed in absurd games, like who could stay on the float the longest or who could do the best dive from the edge of the pool. You joined them at times, letting the laughter flow freely. You felt the gazes of Kelce and the other boys on you, but as always, you didn't care enough.

Even so, there was something different in the air. A subtle tension. At one point, as you were toweling off after a dip, Kelce approached with a playful grin.

“So… you’re going to the party tonight, right?” he asked, leaning slightly towards you.

“Sure,” you replied without hesitation.

“Perfect.” Kelce winked at you and walked away, but not before Rafe pushed him away with a light punch on the shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Rafe said with a dry laugh.

“Just being friendly,” Kelce replied with a crooked grin, knowing full well what he was doing.

You watched the interaction, trying to figure out if there was something more behind Rafe’s reaction, but he didn’t say anything else. He simply turned away and refocused on the game. Although his apparent indifference was still present, you couldn’t ignore the small spark you’d seen in his eyes.

As the sun began to set, everyone started packing up their things. The boys went home to get ready for the party, while you stayed a little longer by the pool. You enjoyed the moment of calm, letting the warm breeze caress your skin before heading inside.

In your room, you opened your closet, searching for the perfect outfit for the night. You knew the party was going to be big; the entire Outer Banks was talking about it. You wanted to stand out, not only because you knew a lot of eyes would be on you, but also because you wanted to provoke a specific reaction. You wanted him to see you.

You chose a tight, deep blue dress, which highlighted your eyes and hugged your figure in all the right places. You carefully applied your makeup, opting for a style that combined naturalness with a hint of boldness. Looking in the mirror, you knew you were ready.

You walked down the stairs just as the first guests began to arrive. The house was already filled with music and laughter. Topper, as always, was in his element, greeting everyone and making sure drinks were never in short supply.

Hours later the atmosphere was electric. The house was filled with young people dancing, drinking and chatting in every corner. You walked through the living room confidently, greeting a few acquaintances before heading out to the patio where most of them were congregating. There, under the dim lights hanging over the pool, you saw Rafe.

He was leaning against the railing, a glass in his hand and that carefree smile that seemed permanent on his face. He was talking to a group of guys, but even from a distance, you could notice how some girls tried to catch his attention. He, however, ignored them with an ease that you found frustrating and fascinating in equal parts.

You decided not to approach him right away. Instead, you moved through the party, letting others come to you. Kelce appeared almost instantly, offering you a drink and throwing out flattering comments that you accepted with a smile.

However, every time you turned your head, your eyes went back to find Rafe. You watched him move around, talking to Topper or just watching the crowd, but never coming close to you.

After a while, you felt somewhat suffocated by the crowd and decided to step out onto the back balcony for a moment. The music was muffled, and the fresh air was a relief. You leaned on the railing, enjoying the brief respite.

You hadn’t been there more than a few minutes when you heard footsteps behind you. You turned your head and, to your surprise, it was Rafe.

“Escaping the party?” he asked with that smile he seemed to have been practicing for years.

“Just taking a break.” You shrugged, trying to remain calm.

He walked over and leaned on the railing beside you. For the first time in a long time, you were alone with him, without the distraction of others.

“Kelce seems to be quite interested in you,” he commented casually, though there was something in his tone that made you raise an eyebrow.

“And that bothers you?” “You asked, challenging him with your gaze.

Rafe let out a low laugh, turning his head to you.

“Should I?”

You didn’t answer right away. There was a tension in the air, an energy that seemed to envelop the two of you. Finally, you decided that, this time, you weren’t going to be the first to give in.

“I guess not,” you said with a hint of sarcasm, before looking away towards the horizon.

The silence that followed was brief, but loaded with meaning.

“Maybe.” His reply was almost a whisper.

The tension on the balcony was almost unbearable, but you refused to be the one to give in. Without giving him time to respond or analyze his words further, you stepped away from the railing and left him there, with his thoughts. You weren’t going to let that little moment consume you, not when there was an entire party waiting for you.

You went back inside the house, and as soon as you walked through the door, someone handed you a glass. You accepted it without thinking much, feeling the alcohol begin to warm your veins. The music was louder, the lights dimmer, and the energy of the party enveloped you again.

Soon you found yourself in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, surrounded by bodies moving to the beat of the music. It wasn't long before one of Topper's friends approached, a boy who had always tried to catch your attention. You knew that tonight he had his goal clear too, and it didn't bother you at all.

"Will you dance with me?" he asked you with a cheeky smile, already a few drinks in.

"Why not?" you answered, letting yourself be carried away by the music and the atmosphere.

He positioned himself close to you, his hands resting on your waist as you both followed the rhythm of the music. There wasn't a considerable space between you, and the closeness was enough to make other eyes fall on you, although you didn't care. At least, not until you felt a different presence at your side.

Suddenly, a strong hand rested on your arm, gently but firmly pulling you away from the boy you were dancing with. When you looked up, you met Rafe's eyes. His face was serious, and though his balance wasn’t perfect due to the alcohol, his gaze burned with an intensity you hadn’t seen before.

“Come on,” he said in a deep voice, almost inaudible over the music.

“What are you doing, Rafe?” you asked, surprised and confused, as he led you through the crowd.

“You shouldn’t be with him,” he replied, not even looking back.

You, your head clouded by the drinks you had consumed, could barely process what was happening. Before you knew it, you were in one of the rooms upstairs, away from the noise of the party.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, breaking free from his grip.

Rafe closed the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment. There was something different in his gaze, something beyond the alcohol.

“I don’t know…” he murmured.

The silence between you was heavy, but not uncomfortable. You moved closer, your heart pounding in your chest. There were so many emotions mixed together: frustration, desire, confusion. Rafe looked at you, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t seem to have all the answers.

So, without thinking about it any further, you took a step closer and kissed him. It was an impulsive kiss, filled with years of repressed emotions. At first, Rafe seemed surprised, but he quickly reciprocated.

The kiss intensified, and soon everything else faded away. There was no one else, no past or future, just that moment.

What happened next was a mix of desire and confusion. You were both drunk, and even though your thoughts tried to stay clear, your actions betrayed you. That night was the first time you were with a man, and it was with him, with Rafe, the person you had idealized for so long.

You didn't say anything about it, and you didn't afterward either. Rafe didn't ask you, nor did he seem to care. To him, it was just another night, a mistake caused by alcohol and closeness.

When it was all over, you stayed silent, staring at the ceiling as he quickly got dressed. Rafe wasn't the type to stick around, and you knew that even before he opened his mouth.

“This isn’t going to happen again,” he said, his voice hoarse and tired. “We were just drunk, that’s all.”

It hurt, but you didn’t show it. Instead, you shrugged, pretending you didn’t care.

“I know.”

He gave you one last look, like he was searching for something in your expression, but when he found nothing, he simply left, closing the door behind him.

You stood there for a few minutes, letting reality hit you. You had known something like this could happen, that once you were around Rafe, your feelings would complicate everything again. But you also knew you weren’t going to let it define you.

You stood up, fixed your dress, and walked out of the room, ready to face the rest of the night. Rafe might want to pretend nothing had happened, but you weren’t going to get caught up in that. If he wanted to forget about it, you would too.

You returned to the party, head held high and a confident smile. There were more drinks, more laughter, more glances. Kelce found you again, and this time, you didn't hesitate to accept his attention.

The days following the party were a whirlwind of emotions for you. Every time you saw Rafe, a knot formed in your stomach. However, he didn't seem affected at all. He acted as if that night had never happened, as if it had all been an unimportant blur.

You expected it, but it didn't hurt any less. You had spent years dreaming of a moment like this, imagining what it would be like if Rafe finally saw you as more than "Topper's little sister." And even though it had happened, the reality was very different from your fantasies.

Rafe was back to his old self: distant, cocky, focused on his own world. His interactions with you were sporadic and cordial, if anything. There wasn’t a single sign that he remembered what happened, let alone cared.

You, for your part, tried to stay strong. You knew you couldn’t let a single moment define your life, but that was easier said than done. Despite everything, you were still in love with him. Every time he walked into a room, your attention was automatically drawn to him, even if you tried hard to look away.

You spent more time with Topper’s friends, especially Kelce, who seemed determined to win your attention. Kelce was friendly and knew how to make you laugh, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never make you completely forget about Rafe.

At night, you found yourself replaying the moments from that night over and over in your mind. You remembered his hands on you, the warmth of his body, the intensity of his gaze. But every time those memories came up, you forced yourself to push them away. Rafe had been clear: it wasn’t going to happen again.

Everything was moving on, and it was impossible to avoid Rafe entirely. You often saw him around the house, chatting with Topper or relaxing by the pool. When you were around him, you tried to act natural, but each interaction was harder than you wanted to admit.

One day, while you were in the kitchen preparing something to eat, Rafe came in, reaching for a beer in the fridge. For a moment, you were alone, silence filling the space between you.

“Everything okay?” he asked casually, not looking at you as he opened the bottle.

“Yeah, everything okay,” you replied in a neutral tone, trying to sound nonchalant.

Rafe nodded and leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his drink. There were no more words between you, and after a few minutes, he simply walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone once again.

Those kinds of encounters became commonplace. Rafe was always polite, but it never went beyond a “hello” or an occasional question. It seemed like for him, nothing out of the ordinary had really happened.

You decided you couldn’t stay stuck in that cycle anymore. If Rafe could ignore what happened, then you could try too. You pushed yourself to focus on other things: hanging out with your friends, focusing on your own interests, even considering the idea of ​​starting something with someone new.

Yet every little bit of progress fell apart the moment you saw Rafe. There was something about him that always drew you back, as if your heart refused to accept what your mind already knew.

One afternoon, as you sat on the patio, watching the waves in the distance, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned your head and saw Rafe, walking with that nonchalance that always seemed to accompany him. He sat down on one of the nearby chairs, not saying anything at first.

“Thinking about something deep?” he finally asked, with a slight smile.

You didn’t answer right away. You bit your lip, trying to keep your composure.

“Maybe,” you finally said, without looking at him.

Rafe didn’t press. He stayed silent, sipping from his glass as you both stared at the horizon. For a moment, you almost seemed like friends, like there was nothing strange between you. But you knew it was just a passing illusion.

That was the problem with Rafe. He always managed to sneak into your life, into your thoughts, even when you tried to keep him out.

Days after trying to ignore him, there was another party but this time not at your house but at Rafe’s house. The music was pumping loudly, filling every corner of the house. The lights flickered to the beat of the bass, while the air was charged with the energy of bodies moving in perfect synchronicity. You stood in the center of the dance floor, lost in the music, letting a boy lead you confidently. He was attractive, and his smile had a mischievous touch that kept your thoughts away from Rafe, at least for a while.

“You’re a great dancer,” the boy told you, leaning close to your ear so you could hear him over the music.

You smiled, grateful for the compliment, although it didn’t affect you too much. All you wanted was to enjoy the night without complications, without thinking about what had happened days ago. But just when you thought you could finally relax, you felt a strong hand on your arm.

“That’s enough,” you heard Rafe’s voice, sharp and determined, as he pulled you away from the boy.

You turned quickly, coming face to face with him. His eyes, despite the slight glint of alcohol, were filled with an intensity you hadn’t seen in a long time. The boy you were dancing with raised his hands, taking a few steps back, clearly not wanting to confront Rafe.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked, pulling away from his hold, furious at the interruption.

“What am I doing?” Rafe repeated, as if the answer was obvious. “What do you think you’re doing, dancing with him like that?”

You stared at him incredulously, your emotions swinging between surprise and anger.

“Excuse me? Since when do you care who I dance with?”

Rafe looked at you with his lips pressed together, his jaw tensing.

“I don’t care, but you don’t have to behave like that in front of everyone.”

“Behave like that?” you laughed bitterly. “Don’t tell me what to do, Rafe. You’re nobody to butt into my life.”

His face showed a hint of something, maybe surprise, maybe frustration. But he quickly hid it, taking a step back.

“You’re right,” he finally said, his tone cold and distant. “I’m nobody.”

With that, Rafe turned around and walked away, leaving you there, your heart pounding and a mix of emotions you couldn't control.

You stood in the center of the dance floor, watching him walk away. The music continued, people continued dancing, but to you everything seemed to have paused. His words echoed in your mind: I'm nobody.

You tried to regain your composure. You went back to where your friends were, but your mood was no longer the same. Although you pretended everything was fine, inside you the anger and confusion continued to grow.

Rafe had made his point clear: he didn't want anything serious, but he didn't seem to want you to be with someone else either. What right did he have to make a scene out of jealousy if you meant nothing to him?

You took a long drink from the drink someone offered you, determined to erase that moment from your mind.

The next morning the sun shone high in the sky as the group enjoyed the afternoon by Topper's pool. You were lying on a lounge chair, your sunglasses covering half your face, letting the heat tan your skin. You could hear the sound of the waves in the distance and the laughter of the boys drinking beers near the pool.

Rafe was there, of course, sitting next to Topper and Kelce. You tried not to look at him, concentrating on the book in your hands, even though you hadn’t read a single word since you sat down. Your tranquility was interrupted, however, when one of Topper’s friends, a boy named Mason, decided to approach.

“Enjoying the sun?” he asked with a smile, leaning in slightly so you could hear him.

You looked up over your sunglasses and smiled lightly at him.

“Yeah, it’s a nice day,” you replied in a relaxed tone.

Mason sat on the edge of your lounge chair, his presence much closer than you expected.

“I was thinking maybe we could take advantage of this nice day and go out on the jet ski later. What do you say?” he suggested, clearly interested in spending more time with you.

Before you could answer, you felt a shadow approaching. Rafe was now standing next to your lounge chair, his gaze fixed on Mason.

“Don’t you have anything better to do, Mason?” Rafe asked with a tight smile, though his tone made it clear it wasn’t a friendly suggestion.

Mason looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t move immediately.

“I was just talking to her, man. Relax.”

“Well, talk from over there,” Rafe replied, pointing towards the group of guys by the pool.

You sat up, furious, and pushed your sunglasses aside to face him.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe?” you snapped, your voice filled with anger.

Rafe didn’t respond immediately, simply keeping his gaze fixed on Mason until he finally stood up and walked back to the group. Then, he turned his attention back to you.

“Can we talk?” he said in a tone that tried to be softer.

“No, we can’t.” You stood up from the lounge chair and grabbed your towel. Without waiting for an answer, you headed into the house, leaving Rafe standing by the pool.

You went up to your room, closed the door behind you, and dropped onto the bed, trying to calm yourself down. But it wasn’t more than a few minutes before the door slammed open. Rafe had walked in without even knocking, his face a mix of frustration and determination.

“What do you want now?” you asked, standing up to face him.

“I want to know what the hell you’re doing,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“What am I doing?” you repeated in disbelief. “I’m the one who should be asking you that! You were clear, Rafe. Our thing was just one night. I accepted it, remember? So why do you keep showing up every time someone else is paying attention to me?”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice lower.

That only made you angrier.

“Well, I do know that. You have no right to butt into my life, Rafe. No right to make me jealous when you yourself said it meant nothing.”

Rafe stayed silent, his eyes locked on yours. He knew you were right, but he couldn’t seem to find the words to respond. Instead, he took a step towards you, and before you could react, his lips were on yours.

You resisted at first, pushing him away slightly, still angry. But Rafe didn’t pull away, and after a second, the tension between you exploded. You gave in, kissing him back with the same intensity. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily. Rafe looked at you, his eyes darker now, filled with desire.

“We have to stop here,” he said quietly, though his hands were still firmly gripped by your hips. “If we don’t, I won’t be able to stop later.”

You stared at him, not pulling away.

“Then don’t stop,” you whispered, with a determination that surprised even yourself.

That was all it took. Rafe kissed you again, more urgently this time, as he led you toward the bed. You both knew you were crossing a line, but at that moment, neither of you seemed to care.

[starchaseriseverything]

You can’t hold me here, Mother!”

“I am your mother, Regina!” Walburga yells back. “You will listen to me!”

“I can leave any time I want!” Regina yells. “Sirius and Andromeda did! So why can’t I!?”

“You have no one to go to, Regina.” Walburga walks up to her. “Absolutely no one. No one cares about you. Not even I.”

“Fuck you, Mother . I hate you.” She sneers. “I will always hate you. I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.”

Walburga smacks her daughter’s cheek. “I can and will.” Regina holds her cheek and runs up the stairs. She slams her door and locks it so her mother can’t get in. She flops down on her bed and stares at the letter sitting on the desk. She hasn’t read it yet, but she knows if she wants closer, she’ll have to. She stands up and sits down in the chair, gently grabbing the letter and slowly opening it. The first word she reads is, Regulus. Regina takes a shaky inhale and starts reading the whole letter.

Regulus, you can get away. You can run from that house. I did and I made it. You can, too. Andy and Uncle Alphard made it. It’s time for you to get out of there, too, Reggie. And I know mother still calls you by your deadname. That’s not right, Reg. You have been going by Regulus since you were twelve and it’s time you get away from people who still call you Regina. I know James would love to see or even hear about you living your best life, even if it’s not with him.

Either way, just tell me what you’re feeling. If you don’t want to run, that’s fine. You still have me to talk to. But if you do run, Effie and Monty have a room for you and your friends are waiting here for you, too. They wait by the door or even sleep in your room sometimes waiting for you, and even if they don’t admit it, they miss you and want you out of that house just like they got out of theirs. I know they’d be happy if you just ran and didn’t stop running until you decided to call someplace home, even if that wasn’t with them. So, just, please, get out of there and live your best life whether that’s with us or without us, it doesn’t matter, just get out of there.

Love, your brother, Sirius

Regina smiles at the letter and stands up and grabs a suitcase from her closet and starts shoving clothes in it. Which is weird because she’s a neat freak and hates when things are all messy, especially when people just throw stuff, but her brother is right, it’s time she gets out of that house and away from her parents. So, instead of weeping in her room all day, she decided to get out of there, forever.

She runs down the stairs with her suitcase in hand and just runs, runs right out the door and doesn’t stop until she finds someplace hidden. She then pulls out her wand and apparates where she’s been many times, The Potter residence.

She smiles at the door before ringing the doorbell and putting her wand away. An older lady answers the door. “Hello. I don’t think we were expecting anyone today.” She backs up. “Come. Come in.” She then walks to the steps and yells, “Kids! Were you expecting anyone today!?”

“No, Mum!” A boy yells back and Regina closes her eyes, recognizing it immediately, James’s voice.

The older woman hums and turns back to her. “Well, then, what is your name?”

“Regi- Regulus. Regulus Black.”

The woman gasps. “Oh my. Should I call Sirius down? Or Barty? Or any of your other friends?”

Regulus shakes his head. “No. I think I'll surprise them.” Regulus sets his suitcase down by the door. “Just a quick question.”

Effie stops and turns around. “What is it dear?”

“How many of my friends are here? Living here?”

Effie hums and starts counting on her fingers. “Well, there’s Lily, Dorcas, Barty, Pandora, Evan, Sirius, Remus, Emma, Aurora, and my son, James.”

“Why do you let everyone live here?”

“Because it’s the nice thing to do and that’s just how my parents taught me.” Effie chuckles a little. “Well, not this nice, but that’s just how I am and how I raised James to be. Some people don’t have good homes like James does, so they need someplace to live or even stay for a few days and that’s what I give them. A place to stay or one to live. Most choose to live but some, like Peter and Alice and Frank, they choose to stay for the summer or a few days because they have nice homes and would miss their family too much. It’s just what this family does, sweetheart, and I hope you get to be a part of that.”

Regulus smiles. “I hope so too.”

“So, I need to make another bedroom?”

Regulus nods. “Yeah, I’m living.”

***

“My sweet,” Regulus says, lovingly. “We are not having another child.”

“But-”

“Three is enough.”

James sighs and flops down in the chair behind him. “I think we should.” He mumbles.

“No.” Regulus replies, sternly.

“Why can’t we-”

“It’s not your body, now is it?”

James’s face falls and he leans his head on his hand. “You know-”

“No, James.”

“Fine!” James groans. “I won’t put another baby inside you.”

“Good.”

“Guess that means we can never do the fun stuff again.”

Regulus’s head whips up from his book. “What?” James looks to the other side of him. “James,”

“What?” He asks, turning his head back to him. “What is it, love?” Regulus opens his mouth but closes it again. He doesn’t even know what to say to that. James sighs and stands up to stretch. “Well, better get to bed.”

“James, It’s ten.”

“So?”

“AM.”

“So?”

“It’s still morning.”

“So?”

“You just woke up.”

“So?”

“You are not going to bed, James.”

“Are you bossing me around?”

Regulus nods and goes back to his book. “Yep.”

“You said I can't do that.”

“That’s you.”

“So, it’s different when you do it?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“It just is.”

James hums and walks towards his husband. “Really?” Regulus hears the change in his voice and gulps. Regulus nods back, not being able to get anything out. James takes Regulus’s book and sets it on the stand beside him. When Regulus doesn’t look up, James guides his head up to his. “How is it different?” He whispers.

Regulus gulps again. “It just is.”

James hums and nods. “Yeah?”

Regulus nods. “Yeah.”

“Papa! Daddy!” Euphemia screams, running towards them. James straightens up quickly and looks over to their daughter.

“What, dulce chica?”

“Can we go to the park?” The black-haired girl asks, jumping up and down in excitement.

James looks over to Regulus, he shrugs in return. James looks back to the girl. “Of course. Go tell your brother and sister to get ready.” Mia smiles and runs off, yelling for her siblings. James chuckles and turns back to Regulus. “We can’t ever have any peace, can we?”

Regulus shakes his head at his husband. James leans down and kisses his lips before walking down the hallway to make sure they’re ready in time.

***

Regulus laughs as both him and James lift up their daughter that’s in between them and she squeals. Leo’s walking beside Regulus and holding his other hand while their oldest daughter is walking beside James. Regulus looks in front of them to a woman approaching them. Regulus inhales a breath when he realizes who it is. Walburga.

She glares at the two before looking at the three kids next to them. She bends down in front of the girl in between them and smiles. “Hi.” She says as James tries to hold their daughter back but she just pulls his hand to make him stop. She’s still holding onto her fathers hand when Walburga speaks again. “What’s your name?”

“Euphemia. But Papa and Daddy call me Mia.”

She smiles at the young girl. “Hello, Mia.” She turns to the young boy by Regulus’s side after glaring at the man holding onto his hand still. “What’s your name?”

“Leo.” He mumbles softly.

“Hi, Leo.” Finally, she glares at James then turns to the red-haired girl beside him. “What’s your name?”

Rose holds up her hand in front of her father and he takes it, putting their entwined hands beside them. “Papa said not to talk to strangers.” Rose mumbles.

“But I’m not a stranger.” The older woman says. “Your parents aren’t doing anything to tear you away, are they?” Rose shakes her head. “So, what’s your name?”

“Rose.”

“Nice to meet you, Rose. I’m Walburga, but you can call me Wally.”

“Wally?” Euphemia asks, giggling.

Walburga smiles at the girl.

“Isn’t Wally who grandma always talks about?” Rose asks, looking up to her father. James looks down at her.

“I wouldn’t know. Your grandma doesn’t talk to me about stuff like that.” She looks over to her dad this time. Regulus doesn’t answer, still in shock. Rose turns back to the lady as Mia and Leo laugh. She made them laugh. Regulus thinks. She made my kids laugh.

Regulus snaps out of his daze. “Come on, let’s go to the park.”

“But, I wanna stay.” Leo whines.

“Let’s go see Aunt Lily and Aunt Pandora, then.”

“Eclipse and Luna?” Mia asks, looking up to her dad.

Regulus nods. “And Harry, Lillian, and Lewis.”

Euphemia jumps up and down and pulls her fathers down the sidewalk past Regulus’s mother. Regulus looks back to her as they pass. She smiles at him and turns around to walk away. Regulus turns his head back in front of him. She smiled? What kind of sick bitch smiles?

-

Walburga kept a straight face throughout the whole funeral for her husband. She didn’t cry once because ‘Black’s don’t cry’, at least that’s what her mother always said. So, she hasn’t cried since she was seven. She didn’t want to get crucio’d again. She didn’t even cry when she married Orion, her cousin, when she wanted to marry someone else. They were even talking about their future together when her mother brought up her engagement. Her engagement that was set from the time she was born. The one where she couldn’t get out of it even if she tried. And oh did she try, but her mother always brought her back, time and time again every time.

Euphemia was the love of her life and she couldn’t ever marry her. Ever. So, instead of telling her about the engagement that was set before she was born, she decided to just break it off. And it wasn’t the best way to go about it, either. They had a horrible fight over something she can’t even remember now. Probably something stupid, maybe something important. Walburga couldn’t remember even if she tried.

A few months after their break up in Hogwarts, she was dating a Gryffindor. A Gryffindor that's nice and generous, unlike her, he’s perfect for her. She’s kind and generous and so much more. He doesn’t deserve her and neither did she. After Hogwarts walburga got an invitation to a wedding, one called ‘The Potter Wedding’. Walburga rolls her eyes at the ridiculous name. (Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous) Potter always was like that, one for stupid things. But I guess there’s two Potter’s now. She thinks.

Walburga was surprised by the invitation, not because Effie remembered her, but because she wanted her there. Walburga sighs and slouches in the arm chair, dropping the invitation on the floor as she pulls her hand to her forehead and holds up her head with it.

She can’t go. She never could. She can’t be associated with a blood-traitor, but Salzar does she wish she could. She wishes she cried then, but she didn’t not for years after that. The first time she cried since seven was when Sirius left. It wasn’t because she didn’t want to accept her daughter as the heir, it was because she wishes her daughter went with her son. To get away from this family even though she couldn’t. She was happy one child didn’t turn out like her and she knows her children talked about not turning into her.

She wishes she could’ve stayed with her promise. The one where she promised her brothers to not turn out like their parents, but instead, she did, and so did her youngest brother. The middle brother, though, he got out just like her niece and son. That was the first night she cried over her brother, her niece, her son, and her daughter all in one go.

The second time Walburga cried was when Regina left right after their argument. Their argument that was supposed to be a simple conversation in which Walburga subtly nudged her to leave the house, but turned into a full-blown argument. At least she left. Walburga thought.

So, when Walburga was walking in the park one day and sees someone who looks exactly like her daughter, she realizes her daughter isn’t her daughter, they’re her son. Walburga smiles and about walks away to cry, but sees the smile on her son's face as he lifts up a girl with another man. The little girl laughs and gets set back on the ground. Her son is holding a little boy’s hand and the other man is trying to get the other girl to hold his other hand.

She decides to walk up to them, but doesn’t show her smile. She’s gotten good at that over the years, having to hide her excitement and discomfort. She couldn’t when she was with Effie, though. She always brought out the emotions in her. All of them.

She glares at the two men, not wanting to show them she actually cares and squats down in front of the girl and smiles. “Hi.” She says. “What’s your name?”

“Euphemia. But Papa and Daddy call me Mia.”

Named after her grandmother. Walburga thinks. She smiles again at the young girl. “Hello, Mia.” She turns to the young boy by Regulus’s side after glaring at the man holding onto his hand still. “What’s your name?”

“Leo.” He mumbles softly.

“Hi, Leo.” Finally, she glares at the other man, not wanting to reveal she cares, then turns to the red-haired girl beside him. “What’s your name?”

The red-haired girl reaches her hand up to her fathers to hold hands. He does and puts them at their sides. “Papa said not to talk to strangers.” Rose mumbles.

“But I’m not a stranger.” She is, but her son isn’t doing anything. “Your parents aren’t doing anything to tear you away, are they?” Rose shakes her head. “So, what’s your name?”

“Rose.”

“Nice to meet you, Rose. I’m Walburga, but you can call me Wally.”

“Wally?” Euphemia asks, giggling.

Walburga smiles at the girl.

“Isn’t Wally who grandma always talks about?” Rose asks, looking up to her father. Walburga looks up also. The man looks down at her.

“I wouldn’t know. Your grandma doesn’t talk to me about stuff like that.”

“Mia, Leo.” Their heads go over to her and away from the other conversation. “Why did the scarecrow win an award?” She asks.

“Why?” Leo asks.

“Because he was outstanding in his field.” The two kids laugh at the joke that their grandmother taught her and it’s stayed in her head ever since sixth year.

“Come on, let’s go to the park.” Walburga's son says. Walburga nods and stands up, understanding that he’s trying to get his kids away from her.

“But, I wanna stay.” Leo whines.

“Let’s go see Aunt Lily and Aunt Pandora, then.”

“Eclipse and Luna?” Mia asks, looking up to her dad.

He nods. “And Harry, Lillian, and Lewis.”

Euphemia jumps up and down and pulls her fathers down the sidewalk past her. Walburga sees them walking away and then her son's head turns to her. She smiles at him, hoping he gets the message that she still cares no matter what. She then walks away, not wanting to disturb them anymore than she already has.

She closes her eyes as she leans against her front door, slides down, and sobs on the floor.

[bcolfanfic]

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “It’s ok. We’ll figure it out - together.”

i lowkey wanna request this w one of the uncles and the yv kids 🥹 torn between sawyer and gale anddddd meadow and john so u pick!

surprise i split the prompt and did both!

uncle buck and sawyer blakely <3

"Sawyer, hey what’s wrong?" Gale asked gently, the twelve-year-old swiping at his nose with his sleeve as he sniffled. He'd slipped his shoes off since the last time Gale had looked over at him as he was helping Blakely get their stuff packed into the car, knees drawn up to his chest.

"Don’t wanna go home," He said, voice wobbly. "I don’t- don’t have friends at school, and I like it when we’re all here because then I do have friends," Sawyer continued, picking at a thread on his jeans.

Gale's heart twisted in his chest. He'd believed Blakely and Helen when they said this past week in Wyoming was the least wound up they'd seen Sawyer in a while. He wasn't as rambunctious as the others had figured out they had the space to be running around the Bucks property causing trouble. But he was content to play Animal Crossing in the basement with Micah, and was chattier at dinner with anyone than Gale remembered him being when he'd seen him a little over a year ago.

"You’re still gonna see most of ‘em at home bud, the only ones that don’t live there are our crew." Gale said as he sat down next to him. "And we’re gonna be in New York to visit in a couple months,"

Sawyer only huffed, resting his chin on his knees.

"’s not the same." He said into the material of his jeans, punctuated by a hiccup. "Don’t know what’s wrong with me, I try to talk to people- but nobody wants to talk to me, they just don’t like me,"

Sawyer's breath hitched and Gale felt his throat tighten, ducking his head down for a second to compose himself. It wasn't new information- he'd heard bits and pieces of it from Blakely. But it wasn't issue he'd had with Josie or Micah- and he found himself wishing he had a better sense of how to navigate it.

Wringing his hands, Sawyer looked at Gale expectantly.

"There's nothing wrong with you bud," He said after a moment, reaching a hand for the back of his shoulder, feeling the tremble in it still under the press of his palm. "You're a great kid- gonna find your people who see that- just gotta give it time,"

Sawyer took a shaky inhale and a few more tears escaped on the exhale, chin wobbling as he budged closer into Gale, hiccupping until he was positioned to let out a little sob into his neck.

"I know, you're okay," Gale murmured, trying to fish his phone out of his pocket without jostling the boy too much.

To: John ❤️

Can u tell Helen to come back in the house? Sawyer is a little upset about leaving.

-

uncle bucky and meadow biddick <3

Every second since Micah had come flying down the stairs a few hours ago screeching that Meadow was pregnant- that JJ had gotten her pregnant, had felt like some sort of fever dream. A fever dream John was only halfway jostled out of when his phone rang just as he was about to brush his teeth, the twenty-two-year old's caller ID flashing across the screen.

"That Meadow?" Gale said when he saw how John was looking at his phone from the doorway, John giving a little nod as he picked up the call, walking out of the bathroom to sink down into bed.

"Hey Mead," He started, soft. He could hear her breathing- and sniffling, on the other end.

"Have you talked to my dad?" She asked when she found her words.

"No, kiddo," he answered softly, absently rubbing the edge of his phone case with this thumb. "But Micah kind of told me what’s going on."

The line was quiet for a moment, Meadow's voice cracking a little when she spoke up.

"I don’t think he loves me anymore," She said, John's chest and his grip on his phone tightening.

He knew that wasn't true- would never be true no matter what she did. But from the bits and pieces he'd heard from Josie and Micah about how things had gone at the Crosbys, he almost couldn't blame her for being so wound up.

"No, hey- no, that’s not true at all," John said, tone a little firmer. "I haven’t talked to him yet, but I don’t need to to tell you that much."

"But he’s so mad," She said as her voice shook. "You weren’t there- I thought he was gonna kick me out till Jeanie said I could spend the night with them and he got all mad at her too."

John dropped his head back against the headboard, holding back a dry laugh when he saw the concerned look Gale threw him from where he was getting undressed.

"I'm gonna wring Curt's neck." He mouthed across the room at him before he went back to trying to think of something to say to Meadow that might actually be helpful.

"I’ve seen your dad mad a lotta’ times in my life,” He tried. “And he's got a cooler head in there somewhere, just takes some time for it to prevail."

"How much time?" she cut in before he'd fully finished his sentence. "He won’t even listen to daddy- I heard them arguing ‘cause he told him to calm down- he hates me."

John heard her breath hitch on the end and felt a lump forming in his throat as he listened to her resolve crumble. She tried to catch her breath to little avail, a sob escaping between sniffles.

"It’s okay, Mead," John said, gentle- and wishing Wyoming was a closer hop and skip from New York. "Don’t gotta cry, you're breakin’ my heart sweetie. I promise he doesn’t hate you- swear it on my life."

Meadow’s shaky inhale was enough to tell him she didn’t believe a word of that. But she managed to get herself calmed down at least- he imagined somewhat due to her sister coming in, Bry's voice entering faintly into the background.

"We’re gonna figure this out together- but you should try to get some sleep first, 'kay?' he said when he heard Bry pause, tapping his fingers against the back of his phone case.

"'Kay, Uncle Bucky."

Her voice was still wobbly, but she wasn't hyperventilating anymore and that was enough for him to feel okay about passing things over to her sister. He let out a sigh when he hung up, his phone buzzing a few seconds later.

curt biddick

Was Meadow on the phone with you just now?

John rubbed a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with an exhale before he went to respond.

john egan

Go tell your kid you still love her. Was breaking my heart listening to her cry like that.

Read 11:57pm

The blue bubble indicating Curt was typing blinked for a second before it disappeared and didn't return. John chewed on the inside of his cheek, annoyed at the stubbornness he in most ways felt he'd grown more acclimated to than anyone.

He gave it five minutes before shooting off another text.

john egan

I get it man, I do. But if you’re not gonna let her stay with the Crosbys you need to make her staying with her dads feel like a good thing. Flipping out isn't helping unless you want her running off to JJ once you're asleep.

The bubble blinked again- and a response followed it this time.

curt biddick

Got it. Thx.

[necromancer-snail]

Copied your questions from the comments to answer! General disclaimer that this is specific to me and my disabilities! Other people may not have the same struggles or may have different ways of handling it. Any other disabled people are encouraged to add or correct 🫶

Do compression socks ever get itchy?

I haven't used compression socks before so unfortunately I can't help there! I assume they do, I don't see why not.

Are tensor bandages finicky?

Definitely. They fold and wrinkle just like clothes, and depending on how long your joints are bent(like if it's on your knee and you're sitting a long time) can sometimes get temporarily warped into that shape. It just makes moving the joint a little more difficult because the bandage will resist it. I also sometimes wrap really tight at first because for me personally it feels the best (except on my knee), but you have to loosen it(which generally means fully rewrapping it) after a while or it quickly becomes uncomfortable and can do more harm than good.

Do Ibuprofen and Tylenol work as much as they're hyped up to?

Ibuprofen and Tylenol for me maybe aren't phenomenal but definitely do help! On an average pain day(a 3-4 on the pain scale) it can usually lower my pain to a 1 or a 0. On a high pain day(6-8) it lowers to my average. Unfortunately it takes an hour or two to kick in, and I usually only get about 2-3 hours of relief before it starts to wear off. I also take 600mg of Ibuprofen(the usual dose for adults is 200mg or 400mg. My doctor specifically told me 600mg up to 4 times a day. I usually end up only going to 2 or 3).

Gripes & pet peeves

Aids/meds gripes & pet peeves:

I covered bandage pet peeves already, but my cane! My cane specifically has an annoying process to adjust the height, and due to its options I have to adjust it every time I put on/take off some shoes. The options are JUST far enough apart and I am JUST the wrong height that it gets perfectly too tall/short depending on what shoes I'm wearing (unfortunately my most comfortable pair is one of these shoes). Also, you build a resistance to meds over time, and there are specific side effects that come with long term use. I am near-constantly in pain and therefore have to be careful with when I choose to take meds for it. Having to keep track of meds is also annoying! Especially when I'm on a bunch. I was on 6 different prescriptions at a time once, all of which had different times and/or requirements to take them. Once daily, twice daily, once in the morning, on an empty stomach, with food... Thankfully I'm usually on max 3 prescriptions at a time

Societal gripes:

People will touch/grab mobility aids without asking, ESPECIALLY for wheelchair users. I've only used a wheelchair once or twice(with a friend who had one available as I don't own one), but people will push you frequently. They will roll you down the sidewalk or up a hill without so much as a hello. People have kicked my cane out of the way. For a lot of disabled people, our mobility aids are viewed as an extension of ourselves; they are our autonomy. It's incredibly violating to have them disrespected like that. A lot of the world isn't made for disabled people. There's a lot of stairs, a surprising amount of buildings don't have working elevators, a lot of cabinets and such require bending/kneeling, benches are getting removed from public spaces like parks, there are really thin doorways, etc etc. I began to have chronic pain at 13 years old, and have been fake claimed and not taken seriously since. When you're young and disabled in a way that isn't visible(scars, limb/facial difference, proportional, etc), people are inclined to believe you are lying/faking it. Even if they do believe you are disabled, they often think you're playing it up. This is especially true for ambulatory mobility aid users, because they believe if you don't ALWAYS need your mobility aid, you don't EVER need it. Also annoying: people recommending the same 5 pain relief options. Chances are, I've tried it! I am working with a doctor to find a diagnosis and effective treatment, you don't need to recommend me yoga.

Unexpected advantages

Honestly the one I can think of rn is just how useful my cane is. If I'm tired or in pain, it's usually within reach and I can use it to hook or hit things like a light switch, my water bottle, small/light objects, etc etc. Other than that I have once or twice used my disabilities as an excuse to not do something. Not often‼️‼️ And I do feel at least a little guilty about it. But sometimes it's nice if people won't accept "I don't want to" or "I'm tired" as a valid reason 🤷

Mundane tasks

There's a lot of things that become more difficult, but I think most useful for you is bending/kneeling(and therefore cabinets/drawers, dropping things, turning on my heater, sometimes just the act of sitting). For me, I also have a lot of joint pain in my fingers. I have lost the ability to braid and I often can't hold a pencil for long periods of time. I draw with my finger on my phone :)) So generally while you're writing just be conscious of actions and what it takes for the body to follow through on those.

Physical drawbacks

A lot of the times disabled people overwork themselves easier and take longer to recover. As an example, my able bodied relatives who helped me move are already feeling better, meanwhile I am going to have a lot of extra pain for probably the next week. Because I was moving, I was obviously using my legs and my back a lot, and it makes it incredibly difficult to get comfortable at any time. While an able bodied person might be a little sore, they can generally sit, lay down, or stand with minimal pain as long as they aren't straining themselves further. Just laying down hurts no matter what position I'm in, and even when I haven't strained myself I usually have to sleep with 3-5 pillows to properly support my back. When I strain myself, I usually have to find very specific angles for each part of my body to be at, and have to shove pillows, plushies, or blankets under or around limbs to keep myself as pain free as possible.

Mental drawbacks

Obviously being in pain a lot causes a lot of negative feelings. A lot of disabled people are depressed. It's incredibly isolating, knowing that a lot of people around you cannot relate to you and being either fake claimed or shunned for your disability. Even when you make friends, they're easy to lose. I've lost plenty due to my frequent cancelling of plans or not messaging/calling back because I sleep so much. The friends that I have kept have had to learn to live with the fact that we don't see each other often, or that they have to make the effort to come see me or have to ensure their plans aren't taxing for me. I've also had a lot of internalized ableism. I've convinced myself that I'm exaggerating, that other people deal with pain so why can't I deal with mine? I've avoided making plans because I don't think it's worth the hassle to have to cancel, even if it wouldn't be hard.

Okay I think I'm out of things to say!! I can elaborate on most of these things if you need! I've been in a lot of disabled communities, so I have a decent amount of knowledge on a lot of issues, especially social ones :))

Making an AU where Edwin has incomplete paraplegia and chronic pain, pls lmk if you have any details that would make my writing 4 it better!!!🙏🙏🙏

[mantisgodsdomain]

We ought to write more Pokemon fic some time. We want to recreate the Pokemon Manners/Human Manners cheat sheet that we made a few years ago we think that this site would like the Sliding Scale Of Politeness When Greeting A New Pokemon You've Never Met Before.

[starkeysprincess]

⟢ FEELS TOO GOOD TO BE WRONG

presenting kinktober day 1 ➔︎ stepbro!rafe

warnings: stepcest, pillow humping, guided masturbation, fingering, pussy slapping, gagging, praising, & degrading. 18+ mdni word count: 1.5k

kinktober m.list ⟡ rafe m.list

rafe tip-toed his way up the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone, especially his stepmother, knowing she’d nag at him if she smelled even the slightest ounce of alcohol off him. his feet carried him to his room, ignoring the soft light under your bedroom door, figuring you must’ve forgotten to turn off the fairy lights that littered the room. 

he froze at small whimpers coming from your room, turning around and stopping outside his bedroom. he pressed his ear to the door, chewing on the side of his nail, listening for further noises.

your whimpers progressed, and nothing prepared him for the sight he saw of you, his sweet stepsister, when he quietly twisted the doorknob, cracking your door open ever so slightly. 

the soft yellow lights glowed around your silhouette as if you were an angel, yet your actions were nowhere close to pure. there you were, in nothing but a pair of baby blue panties and a tank top, rutting against a pillow that sat between your thighs. your eyes remained closed, brows furrowing as you rocked back and forth, trying to find a steady rhythm in hopes the plush pillow would graze your clit. 

rafe’s cock stiffened in his khakis, and he grinned to himself, taking your distraction as an opportunity to slip into your room, ensuring to shut the door without making a sound. he leaned against the door, crossed his arms over his chest, and continued to watch you for a few minutes. 

“what do we have here?” rafe chuckled. your eyes immediately opened, and you let out a small shriek in surprise. "w-why are you here?” you stuttered, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“thought you were having a nightmare and was just being a good big stepbrother and checkin’ on you,” rafe licked his lips, eyeing you, “what are you doing up, anyway?”.

“nothing,” your gaze shifted away from him. “nothin', huh?” your stepbrother taunted, “s’not what it looked like to me.” 

“could’ve sworn you were going at it like a bunny and humping away at your pillow,” he tsked. your lip wobbled as tears welled in your eyes; you weren’t sure if it was because you were ashamed or because you were overly frustrated from how horny you were, “i’m sorry”. 

rafe pushed himself off the wall and stalked towards you. he gripped your chin and tilted your head to look up at you. "stop crying, alright? crying isn’t going to get you anywhere.” 

your gaze drifted away from his, and you looked down at your hands in your lap, ushering another apology. his thumb swiped at your plump bottom lip, a tent starting to form in his khakis as the blood rushed to his cock, “mm, sweet girl, always sayin’ sorry”. 

the mattress dipped under his weight as he sat down, his rough hands grabbing at your waist and hoisting you onto his lap. your back was flush against his chest, and he had one hand sprawled across your lower tummy, fingers tracing patterns on your flesh, “you know…what you were doing s’nothing to be ashamed of”. 

it took every fiber in your being not to let out a small whimper when his leg bounced up and down, the material of his khakis rubbing your clit, “it’s not?”. rafe shook his head, “course not. you were just trying to make yourself feel good like the needy little thing you are, right?”.

“i’m not needy,” you murmured, crossing your arms over your chest.

“yeah? if that were true, you wouldn’t be trying to get yourself off by your pillow, would you?” rafe chuckled, “there are other ways to make yourself feel good…like using your fingers”. 

you couldn’t help but frown, “that’s not true”.  

the blonde shook his head, “then you must not be doing it right… i could teach you. would you like that, sweet girl?”.

your eyes lit up, nodding slowly at his offer, and his hand slid down your tummy to your thighs, spreading them further open. his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging at it gently to pull it to the side, “pay attention to what i say, alright?”. 

once you give him confirmation, rafe grabs your hand, guiding it between your legs, “go on, stretch your little cunt with your fingers,” he rasps. you run your fingers through your slick folds, pushing two fingers into your wet cunt, “there you go,” he cooed, his hand pressing on your tummy, pulling you closer into him, “slowly move them in and out”. 

you listen to him, slowly pumping your fingers in and out of your slick pussy. your fingers move with ease as your arousal coats your fingers, and rafe groans, his hardon poking against your ass. his hand slid up your tummy to your tits, squeezing and massaging them. his thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple through your tank top, rolling it between his fingers, “c’mon princess, move them a little faster”. 

“atta girl, feels good, yeah?”.

“n-no, rafey, this feels wrong,” you shook your head, it was eating you alive. your mind racing with the thoughts of how wrong it is to let your step brother talk you through how to please yourself. 

“no? nothin’ is wrong if it makes you feel this good, but i guess i gotta do everything myself then, huh?” he scoffed. his fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it away to replace your fingers with his. 

“oh–” you gasped, his fingers moving to rub up and down your slit, slipping one finger deep inside you. he pushed his thick digit in and out, slowly working your needy hole open before adding another finger. he was knuckle-deep in your cunt, his fingers dragging against your inner walls with each push and pull motion.

you couldn’t help the whine you let out, bucking your hips against his fingers, “see, nothing wrong if it makes you feel good, right?”.

a small squeak traveled up your throat when he landed a light smack to your clit, “answer me, say ‘yes rafey, it’s not wrong if it feels good’. c’mon, say it, or i’ll leave you to go back to humping your pillow, and we both know it doesn’t nearly feel as good as this”.

you couldn’t bring yourself to say it; the way his fingers curled made your brain blank. you pushed your body further back against him, whining when he suddenly stopped, “why’d you stop?”.

“told you i’d stop, guess you’re on your own,” he shrugged, his fingers still buried deep inside you. you rolled your hips, trying to give yourself some relief, only to receive another smack to your clit. 

“you know what i wanna hear,” he murmured, nipping your ear lobe, “admit that it feels good, tell me how good it feels to have my fingers stuffed inside you”.

despite knowing it was wrong, you couldn’t help but admit that it does feel good, his fingers were making you feel pleasure like you’ve never felt before. 

“good girl,” rafe praised, pistoning his fingers once again, “such a good girl for letting me play with this pretty little pussy”.

your head lolls back, resting on his broad shoulder, “rafe,” you whine. your moans increasingly getting louder the faster he pumped his fingers while he continued to toy with your nipples.

his free hand slid up your neck, prodding his fingers against your lips before shoving his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, “gonna wake everyone up if you can’t keep your mouth shut, and we can’t have that, can we?”.

you hum in response, gagging when he shoves his fingers further down your throat, muffling your sweet moans. the sound of your pussy squelching around his fingers was music to his ears, “you hear that? hear how fuckin’ wet you are?”. 

“touch yourself, play with your clit f’me,” he whispered, groaning when you obeyed, watching you rub sloppy circles onto your clit. he dipped his head down, nuzzling his face into your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, “yeah, just like that, princess. goddamn, you’re so wet, drippin’ all over my fingers”.

your breath hitches in your throat, drool coating rafe’s fingers as the tips of his fingers hit against your cervix, “look so fuckin’ pretty when your holes are stuffed full like the needy little slut you are,” he murmured, nipping at your neck. 

you push your head back onto his shoulder and look at him with half-lidded eyes. your chest is heaving as your breathing becomes sporadic, and you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. 

“that’s it, princess, cum all over my fingers. show me how much you love having me play with your pussy,” rafe whispers, grunting from the way your moans are muffled as you’re practically choking on his fingers. 

your eyes squeeze shut as you come undone, his fingers continuing to work you through your orgasm until your body slumps against him.

rafe removed his fingers from your mouth before pulling his hand away from your cunt. he brought his arousal-covered fingers to his mouth, humming as he sucked them clean, “taste so fuckin’ sweet”.

“see? felt better than your pillow, huh?” he teased, bucking his hips, his hard cock grinding against the plump flesh of your ass, “feel that? s’all ’cause of you, sweet girl”.

“think it’s your turn to help me out now”.

taglist: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @cameronsprincess @xxbimbobunnyxx @fae-of-prey @heartsforvin @zyafics @justafangirls-blog @sturnioloshacker @userchai @bunnyrafe @drewstarkeys-world @nemesyaaa @drewsarms @fallbhind @rafesthroatbaby @rafestaurusgf @hallecarey1 @fallrafwe @rafecameroninterlude @johnnycakess @sturnskiss @blckbrrybasket @shawtycoreee @rafeyscurtainbangs @wearemadeofstardust0 @juniebugg @honeybunniesoobin @spacexdrago @starkeysbebe @chimindity @spid6y @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandabbbbb @kisses4angel @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @starkeysheart @rafeinterlude @flvredcas @emilysuperswag @hyperfixationgirl @eternalbuckley @redhead1180 @ijustwanttoreadlols @slumnit @xoxohoneymoongirl @starkeyisthelastname

[rafeandonlyrafe]

gold ring

words: 1.3k

warnings: brief suspicion of cheating, established relationship, soft!rafe, proposal, fluffy

“rafe!” you groan out, tired of hearing his phone constantly dinging for the past ten minutes. 

when rafe doesn't answer, you slap your laptop closed, frown on your face as you head up the stairs, muttering to yourself about him interrupting your work that he KNOWS is important.

“rafe!” you shout, entering his bedroom. you can finally hear the spray of the shower, explaining why he was letting his phone go off.

you grab it from his bedside table, yanking the charger free as you go to silence it, but upon trying to stop the dinging, you skim over the notifications.

you don't believe it at first. it must be some kind of mistake, you're sure.

you click on the name of rafes ex girlfriend, opening up the text message thread.

rafe: when can we meet?

ex: whenever works for you 🥺

ex: i miss you a lot btw

ex: this friday at 6pm? we can meet at the country club like we always used to. maybe get dinner? can't wait to see you xxx

you frown at the messages, quickly locking the phone and setting it down when you hear the shower turn off.

rafe steps out with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“hey princess.” he smiles. “how's the essay going?”

“fine.” your tone is cold, surprising rafe. “your phone was ringing so i silenced it.”

you walk out of the room without another word, needing to return to your homework, but when you sit back down at what has become your desk, you can't concentrate on the words on the screen, your anger bubbling over.

you want to confront rafe, but you need time to breathe otherwise the entire conversation will be unintelligible as you simply sob.

you head upstairs, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder as rafe emerges from the closet, fully dressed.

“where you going babe? got study group?” he questions, glancing at the clock on the wall, realizing there's no way study group would be meeting this late.

“going home.” you mumble, making sure everything you usually leave at rafes is stuffed in your bag.

“you are home?” rafe questions, his expression turning sad when he sees you're not joking.

“no, im not rafe.” you sigh. “i want to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

truth is, you've practically moved into tanneyhill since you started dating rafe, but technically you still live at your parents house, only a few doors down from rafes.

“is everything alright?” rafe asks, trying to reach out for you. “what did i do wrong?”

you can't help it anymore, his obvious disrespect for your relationship, something you put years of work into only for him to go back to his ex girlfriend.

“how about you ask your ex?” you question, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“my ex? what are you talking about?” rafe asks, again trying to hold you by your shoulders, but you take a step back before his palms can land on you.

rafe: ive asked you a million times to give that ring back. you never should have taken it in the first place. it was my grandmother's and now it belongs to y/n, not you.

“i saw your texts, rafe. when can we meet? are you fucking kidding me!?” you shout the last sentence.

“baby, wait.” he says softly, grabbing his phone. he opens up the messages, scrolling up so you can see the full context.

ex: i don't know where it is 

rafe: bullshit. give it back or ill call the cops

ex: fine. 

rafe: when can we meet?

“see, baby?” rafe places a soft hand on your shoulder. “i was just trying to get my shit back. i have no interest in my ex at all. i love you.”

“oh, rafe!” you coo out, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “im so sorry i doubted you.”

“it's okay, id also be pissed if you were texting your ex. i didn't tell you just because i wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“keep what a surprise?” you furrow your brows together.

“what do you?- ohhh.” rafe finally catches on, letting out a chuckle. “i see what you're doing.”

you giggle, rising to your tiptoes to press a kiss to rafes soft lips. 

“now let's get back to work on that essay, yeah?” rafe says. “i can help you.”

“and what do you know about microbiology that could possibly help me?” you snicker.

rafe rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, but i can at least be there for moral support.”

--

you've been expecting it for months now, wondering when rafe will pop the question. you know he got the ring back, and while he's taken you on romantic dates and moonlit walks on the beach, you're not sure when he will actually drop to one knee.

“what are you thinking for your nails this week?” your girlfriend asks.

originally, you were doing all white and plain, but recently for summer you've been branching out to bright colors again.

“why, is there a certain color i should get?” you raise your eyebrow at her. 

“well i was gonna get a sparkly white, maybe we could match.” she shrugs. it's no discredit to your friend, but her acting isn't good enough to fool you, and you're sure that rafe asked her to make sure you get something appropriate and properly bridal.

you of course get simple nails that you hope will compliment a silver ring on your finger.

you look at the calendar hanging on the wall, reading through your events for the upcoming week, trying to figure out when rafe may ask the question.

you ultimately give up on trying to figure it out as you head further into the house, calling out for rafe. 

“baby? where are you?” you shout, surprised when you don't get a response. you head up to your bedroom, figuring he must be in the shower, but the bathroom door is wide open when you enter.

you almost miss it, so set on finding rafe, but the dress laying on the edge of the bed ends up catching your attention.

put this on and meet me outside.

you recognize rafes handwriting instantly. you set the paper to the side and look at the dress. its a soft light pink material, nearly white.

you are quick to undress and put on the flowy dress, admiring yourself in the mirror before touching up your hair and makeup next. rafe knows how you like to prepare for big events in your life.

your steps are slow, or at least you attempt to keep them slow, as you want to cherish this moment. your eyes light up with the glow of the backyard, string lights hanging from every tree, and on the edge of the sand, is rafe.

“oh.” you cover your mouth, feeling tears well up in your eyes. this has to be the moment. you run to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he spins you.

“baby, i haven’t even asked yet.” rafe chuckles, setting you down.

“and i’m already saying yes.” you giggle, although it’s no secret to rafe what your answer would be.

“still-” rafe places his hands on your hips, stilling you before he drops down onto one knee, pulling a box out of his pocket. he flips open the lid to reveal the most stunning ring you’ve ever seen, it’s exactly what you envisioned and somehow so much more.

“you’ve made me happier than i ever thought possible. you fixed all my broken pieces and made me whole again. there’s no one else i’d rather spend forever with.”

rafe looks up at you, tears brimming in his eyes, overwhelmed with the emotion of the moment. “will you marry me?”

“yes!” you squeal, falling to your knees alongside rafe and pressing your lips against his. “yes, yes. a million times yes.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @cameronswiftie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[wumblr]

i have a strict "do not answer the door unless you're expecting someone" policy but i also have this second, even stupider policy where i have to go to the door and stand there as silently as possible to gather as much information as i can about who it was that came to the door. honestly because i'm nosy. but naturally i don't want to interface with anyone directly, least of all any type of stranger who would willfully go around knocking on anybody and everybody's door. so imagine my horror when today, someone knocks, and i'm standing there silently to gather information, and they have the gall to start sliding something in between the door and the frame, exactly the same way you would if you were trying to card the door open. fortunately, and to my credit, i realized it was a cardstock brochure for local baptist church before i opened the door to shove them down the stairs. i'm kidding, of course, my "do not open the door" policy extends to include if they try to open it. i'll stand here silently and let them finish and then i have the element of surprise in my favor. like i don't know why you weren't expecting me. i live here. this is a post about using italicization to signify that a role reversal has occurred (monks resume chanting and i take my place back among them while another one steps up to the post editor to make a post)

[thestuffedalligator]

When ogres travel, they do so in human shape.

They hate doing this. They think it’s beneath them. But they do it anyway.

The Vicomte Graoul de Saucisson – and this is another thing about ogres. Ogres as a species are nobility. There is no such thing as a low-born ogre. There is always room in the ogrish peerage for another vicomte, another prince, another branch to tie to the rotted tree – strode up to the chateau in human shape. The roses in the garden shivered as he passed by. The huge, high doors opened by themselves and he walked through them without a shift in his stride.

When the doors slammed shut behind him, he moved to shrug the shape off his shoulders like a coat.

Then he saw the woman.

He froze. He stared. She stared back.

He slowly pulled the shape back on. “Who are you?” he asked.

She looked mildly appalled. “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing in my home?”

“Your home? This is–” He stopped. He reconsidered. “I am the Vicomte de Saucisson,” he said. “I’m looking for the Marquis de Pamplemousse. He is a… colleague of mine.”

“Oh,” she said. She could’ve looked more abashed. “I’m sorry, monsieur, he’s never mentioned you before. You must be here to share your congratulations, of course, I can fetch him right away.”

“He’s never mentioned you either,” the vicomte did not say. “Of course,” he said. “Congratulations. What about?”

She seemed surprised. “Have you not heard? Monsieur, the curse on my husband has been lifted.”

He stared. His lips started to form the words “What curse,” and then there was a sound like a horse falling down a set of stairs and a man he had never seen before wearing the marquis’s clothes came barrelling down the hall.

“Vicomte!” said the man with the marquis’s voice. “My human friend! The curse has been lifted, and I am a human once again!”

He was slightly out of breath when he reached the woman. He clasped her arm and grinned at him with manic desperation. “This is wonderful news! You must be here to share your congratulations!”

“Lie like hell,” said the man’s eyes.

The vicomte stared. “Oh!” he said. “My – human friend! Human once again! Words fail me. After all these–” (there was the slightest hesitation) “–years?”

The woman put her head at an angle and narrowed her eyes at him.

The man walked up, still grinning like a rictus chimpanzee, and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, of course! Darling, me and the vicomte are going to have a manly one-on-one conversation while he shares his congratulations, as we human men are wont to do.” And then with a strength that could only be ogrish, the marquis pulled the vicomte by the shoulder down the hall and into a drawing room.

When the bolt of the lock clicked into place behind them, the man wearing the marquis’s clothes visibly sagged.

“What the hell,” said the vicomte.

“You should’ve sent word ahead that you'd be coming today.”

“I never do.” He gesticulated and tried to conjure a single question out of the swarm buzzing in his brain. “What the hell is going on? Who was that? Why are you pretending to be human? What curse are we talking about?”

The marquis groaned and crumpled into a chair. As he did he shifted out of human shape, clothes magically tailoring themselves to contain his ogrish form, something like a moose and an orangutan.

“I had a moment of weakness.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a stroke?”

“I got married.”

“And that’s another thing–”

“Graoul, please.” He sighed and put his face in his talons. “Last winter a merchant broke into my home. He stole one of my roses, and in exchange I asked him to send me one of his daughters to be my bride.”

The vicomte nodded. This at least was a sacred and recognizable ogrish custom, and he did like to see the old ways in practice.

“And it was fine! It was perfectly lovely. She’s a wonderful woman, but one night I decided to put on a human shape to change things up in the bedroom, and she lost her mind! Started talking about how I was clearly an enchanted prince and that her love for me must’ve broken some curse and turned me human again! I had no idea how to tell her otherwise, and now I’ve done it for too long to back out.”

The vicomte stared. “Sorry,” he said. “You decided to turn into a human to spice things up in the bedroom, and that was the face you chose?”

The marquis growled. “If I knew I was going to be wearing it for the rest of my life I would’ve gone with something better.”

[be4chywritez]

sweet like honey | max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!reader

"you're to sweet for me."

Max doesn't like how nice you are towards him.

beachy’s masterlist🐚

prompt list

Max isn't sure why he doesn’t like you. You’ve never wronged him, never talked bad about him, or been rude in any way. But for some odd reason, Max hates you.

Maybe it’s the Verstappen genes kicking in, that innate tendency to be an asshole. Or maybe it’s bred into him to keep sweet things like you at a distance. So, you can imagine his shock and horror when he sees you perched on the couch, flipping through a book in his friend’s Italian villa.

Your eyes meet his, and a smile graces your lips. You place the book in your lap, and he watches as your eyes brighten at the sight of him, the same way they might light up at the sight of a pretty flower.

Your small yellow sundress barely covers your upper thighs, and Max can’t help but stare before quickly looking down at his phone, not wanting to be too obvious about his boyish gawking.

“Max,” you say softly, your voice warm and rich like honey, drawing his attention whether he wants it or not.

He hears you, of course, but pretends to focus on his phone. His thumb moves slowly over the screen, though nothing he sees holds his interest. It’s the way you say his name that sticks in his mind, making it impossible to ignore.

“It’s nice to see you,” you continue, your tone sincere as if you mean it more than you should. You settle back into the cushions, your dress slipping a little higher on your thighs, and he catches himself glancing before looking away again.

Max lets out a quiet huff, his eyes still fixed on his phone, but his attention is all on you now. “Didn’t know you’d be here,” he murmurs, his voice lower than usual, almost guarded.

You shift, crossing your legs under you, the air feeling warmer, closer. “A surprise, I guess,” you reply, a faint smile tugging at your lips, the kind that lingers, soft and effortless.

Max clenches his jaw, forcing himself to look back at his phone. Still, he’s hyper-aware of your presence, of the subtle scent of your perfume lingering in the room. He swallows hard, trying to steady himself, even as his chest tightens.

“Yeah,” he mutters, almost under his breath, like he’s afraid to say anything else, and you let the moment settle, content with the quiet between you.

Just then, his best friend Jamie stumbles in, holding a glass of chardonnay. “Maxie,” he coos, squishing Max’s cheeks together, making his lips pucker. Close behind comes your best friend, Mila—Jamie’s girlfriend.

A few others join the group, a mix of Jamie and Mila’s friends, and Max’s brow furrows as he realizes that they’re all couples. He internally groans, watching your eyes flit around like a lost puppy.

“Alright, everyone,” Mila announces with a clap of her hands, “time to head up. We’ve got a long day ahead tomorrow.”

One by one, the group starts dispersing, grabbing their things and heading upstairs. Max lingers, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, but he’s acutely aware of you standing up from the couch, smoothing down the hem of your dress.

You move with an easy grace, slipping past him with a soft, “Goodnight, Max.” There’s no sarcasm, no bite—just genuine kindness that he doesn’t understand. You flash him a small smile before heading toward the stairs.

Max’s jaw tightens as he watches you go. You’re far too calm, far too kind for his liking. It makes him uncomfortable, like you’re holding a mirror up to the way he behaves, forcing him to see the stark contrast between you.

He takes a deep breath, tucking his phone into his pocket, and follows behind the group. The villa is beautiful, the soft glow of the lights casting long shadows across the walls as everyone makes their way to their respective rooms. His room is at the far end of the hall, and as he reaches it, he notices you standing just outside the door next to his.

“Looks like we’re neighbors,” you say lightly, your voice warm and soft. You hold your toothbrush and a towel, your yellow sundress replaced by pale pink silky pajamas, and there’s something almost disarming about how comfortable you seem.

Max nods, his expression neutral. “Yeah.”

You don’t push the conversation, only smile again as you step into your room. “Sleep well, Max,” you say over your shoulder, as if you mean it.

He huffs quietly, more out of habit than frustration, and slips into his own room. The door closes with a soft click, and he leans back against it, rubbing a hand over his face.

For a moment, he stands there, in the silence of the room, staring at nothing in particular. He doesn’t know why your kindness unsettles him so much. It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong, but that’s exactly the problem. You’re too nice. Too understanding. And for some reason, it gets under his skin.

Max changes into a T-shirt and shorts, moving about the room on autopilot. He keeps hearing your voice, soft and sweet, lingering in his thoughts.

Finally, he pulls back the covers and slides into bed, trying to shut everything out. But it’s quiet now—too quiet. And even though you’re just on the other side of the wall, he can’t stop thinking about you.

In the middle of the night, he’s still awake, tossing and turning, when there’s a soft knock on his door. Max sits up, frowning slightly, wondering who it could be at this hour.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and pads across the room, opening the door just a crack. It’s you, standing there, a little sheepish, your arms crossed lightly over your chest.

“Sorry,” you whisper, barely audible, “I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just… my room's really hot. I think the AC is broken.”

Max blinks, unsure of what to say at first. Part of him wants to tell you to deal with it yourself, but another part of him can’t ignore it.

His eyes linger on you more than he’d admit—your hair sticking to your neck from sweat, your cheeks flushed, and you nibble your lip nervously. Your tank top has ridden up, a sliver of your hip exposed, and Max does everything in his power to push those thoughts away.

“Uh… you could just crack open a window,” he suggests, his voice a bit rough from sleep. He knows the words sound hollow even to him. He doesn’t want you in his space, yet part of him doesn’t want you sweating alone either.

You fidget slightly, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I tried, but it didn’t help. I just thought… maybe I could crash in here?” The words hang in the air, hopeful yet tentative.

Max’s heart races at the idea. The prospect of sharing the bed makes his palms sweat. It’s one thing to be in the same room, but sharing a bed? He hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek as he weighs his options.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asks, trying to sound casual, but there’s a hint of something deeper in his tone. The image of you curled up beside him—too close for comfort—sends a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” you offer a nervous smile, clearly not wanting to invade his space, so you back away, ducking into your room. He watches you until the door is shut behind you.

Max stands in the doorway, his heart racing as he processes the moment. He’s not sure why he feels such a strong urge to call you back, to insist that it’s okay, but the words remain stuck in his throat. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling a mix of irritation and something else—something he’s not ready to name.

As he paces back to his bed, he tries to shake off the lingering image of you standing there, your flushed cheeks and nervous smile. He lies down again, staring at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the fact that you’re just a wall away.

A few moments pass before he hears a soft, muffled noise from your room—a sniffle, maybe? It makes his chest tighten at the thought of you crying because you're uncomfortable.

“Damn it,” he mutters to himself, tossing an arm over his eyes. He’s not going to sleep if he keeps thinking about you like this.

After what feels like an eternity of tossing and turning, he finally sits up, his decision made. He stands up, his heart pounding in his chest, and makes his way to your door. He raises his hand to knock but hesitates, uncertainty flooding in.

“Why the hell am I doing this?” he mutters, his self-doubt creeping back in. But the thought of you feeling uncomfortable alone is enough to push him through. He knocks softly, the sound barely more than a tap.

“Hey,” you call from inside, and he can hear the surprise in your voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” he replies, his voice worse than he intended. “I… just thought maybe you could come back. It’s probably not that hot here.”

There’s a brief silence, and he can imagine the look on your face—surprised and perhaps a little hopeful. “Really?” you ask, and he can’t help the slight smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

The door swings open, revealing you still in your silk-clad pajamas. He rips his gaze away, feeling a tightness in his throat. He doesn't utter a word, just turns around, walking to his room. He can hear your feet padding behind him, and you close the door behind the both of you.

Max keeps his back to you as you quietly follow him into the room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The air feels heavier now, thick with unspoken tension as you stand there in the dim light, waiting for him to say something. But Max doesn’t. Instead, he heads straight for the bed, pulling back the covers on one side, his movements stiff and a little too deliberate.

“You can take the right side,” he mutters, not looking at you, as he slides under the covers on the left. His heart is pounding, though he tries to act like everything is fine.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to thank him or just keep quiet. Deciding not to push it, you simply nod, even though he isn’t looking at you. You cross the room and slip into the bed beside him, careful not to make any sudden movements.

The mattress dips slightly under your weight, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he can feel the same tension thrumming between you that you do. The bed feels impossibly small now, the space between you a thin sliver of air that crackles with awkwardness.

You lie still, facing away from him, but you can feel his presence—so close and yet so distant. The sound of his steady breathing fills the room, and you wonder if he’s doing the same as you, staring at the ceiling, trying to will himself to sleep.

Minutes stretch on, and the silence between you is deafening. Every creak of the bed, every shift in the sheets seems louder in the stillness of the night. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice so soft it barely breaks the silence. You don’t expect a reply, and for a few moments, there’s nothing but the sound of your own breathing.

Then, finally, Max shifts slightly beside you. “Yeah, whatever,” he grumbles, his voice low and rough, but there’s something different in it now. Something that isn’t as cold as before.

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Maybe he isn’t as indifferent as he wants you to think. You curl up a little more, trying to make yourself comfortable, even as the tension lingers in the air between you.

As the night drags on, you begin to drift in and out of sleep. The heat from the earlier part of the night is gone now, replaced by a cooler breeze that drifts in through the open window. The sheets are soft, and for the first time since you entered Max’s room, you start to relax.

Just as you’re on the edge of sleep, you feel something shift again. Max turns slightly, the mattress dipping as he moves closer—just barely, but enough for you to notice. His arm brushes against yours, and the warmth of his skin sends a small jolt through you.

You stay perfectly still, wondering if he did it on purpose or if he’s just restless. Either way, you don’t move, afraid to disturb the delicate balance between you.

Your mind races—what if you roll over onto him in your sleep? What if you start snoring?—and the nerves bubble up, spilling out before you can stop yourself.

“So… I haven’t slept in a guy’s bed in ages,” you blurt out, staring at the ceiling. Max barely reacts, his only acknowledgment a low, noncommittal “Mhm,” but it doesn’t stop you from talking.

“Yeah, it’s been, like… a long time. I’m more of a 'sleep with a thousand pillows' kind of person, you know? Gotta have the right setup.” You laugh a little, mostly to yourself, feeling the need to fill the quiet. Max doesn’t respond, but you keep going, too nervous to stop. “Oh, and I’m really bad with directions, like, I get lost in grocery stores. Once, I ended up in the freezer aisle for thirty minutes just trying to find the cereal.”

“Mhm.”

His replies are half-hearted at best, but you don’t mind. If anything, the sound of his quiet indifference weirdly helps soothe your nerves.

“Oh! And I can’t swim,” you say with a laugh, thinking it’s just another random fact to throw out there. But this time, Max’s head snaps toward you.

“You came to the amalfi coast, and you can’t swim?” he asks, his voice sharper than before, with a hint of amusement. His eyes narrow slightly, and you can’t help but grin.

“Yeah,” you reply, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Figured I’d just, you know… stay on the shore.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s stupid.”

“Maybe,” you say, laughing softly, your nerves easing a bit. “But I’m good at other things. Like… did you know I can recite the entire script of Finding Nemo? Well, mostly.”

Max rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Great skill.”

You keep talking, the words flowing easier now. Your voice fills the room, soft and rhythmic, and even though Max doesn’t say much, you can feel the tension in the air start to shift. His body relaxes slightly, the space between you feeling a little less awkward.

“And another thing, I’m a terrible cook. Burnt spaghetti once. Didn’t even think that was possible. It’s water and noodles, right?” You laugh again, and this time Max lets out a quiet huff—almost like a chuckle, though he’d never admit it.

Your voice is like a steady hum, lulling the room into a gentle calm. You talk about everything and nothing, the words spilling out in a quiet stream. Max listens, his responses becoming softer, almost inaudible, but it doesn’t matter. His breathing slows, his eyes fluttering shut as your voice washes over him.

You don’t notice when he finally drifts off, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. But somehow, you feel it—the way the energy in the room has shifted, his earlier sharpness melted away into something softer, more relaxed.

The next morning, sunlight spills through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You stir first, the warmth of the bed enveloping you, your body reluctant to wake. For a moment, you forget where you are, and then it hits you—Max’s bed, Max’s room. You blink your eyes open slowly, turning your head slightly to see him still there, asleep.

He’s lying on his back now, the sheets tangled around his waist, his chest rising and falling with each slow breath. His face is serene, the harsh lines you’ve come to associate with him softened by sleep. His hair is slightly tousled, giving him an almost boyish look, something so different from the hard-edged man who usually glares at you.

You feel a strange flutter in your chest as you look at him, this version of Max—unguarded, vulnerable. It’s a side of him you never thought you’d see, and it’s almost too intimate, too close. You shift a little, trying not to make any noise, but the bed creaks softly under your weight.

Max stirs, his brows furrowing slightly as he slowly wakes up. His eyes open halfway, still hazy with sleep, and for a brief moment, he looks at you without the usual edge in his gaze. It’s like he’s forgotten for a second who you are, where he is.

Then, reality seems to settle back in, and his eyes narrow ever so slightly, though there’s no real malice there. Just a kind of gruff annoyance.

“Mornin’,” he mutters, his voice rough and low, thick with sleep.

“Good morning,” you reply softly, offering a tentative smile.

He shifts, pushing himself up on his elbows, the sheet falling further down his waist, revealing more of his toned torso. You can’t help but glance, quickly averting your eyes when you realize you’re staring.

Max runs a hand through his messy hair, yawning as he glances at you. “You talk a lot in your sleep too, or is that just when you’re awake?” he asks, a hint of that familiar sarcasm creeping back into his tone, though there’s no real bite behind it.

You chuckle lightly, relaxing a little. “Only when I’m awake, I promise.”

He grunts, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting up. For a moment, neither of you says anything, the silence between you less awkward than you would’ve expected. It’s almost… comfortable.

Max stretches, his muscles flexing slightly as he does, and you try not to let your eyes linger too long. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, and you’re grateful when he doesn’t seem to notice.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence, “how’d you sleep?”

He glances back at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he shrugs. “Fine, I guess.” There’s a pause, and then he adds, almost begrudgingly, “Didn’t mind all the talking.”

Your heart skips a beat at that, the small admission catching you off guard. You smile, warmth spreading through you. “Glad to know I didn’t annoy you too much.”

Max doesn’t respond, just grabs his phone from the nightstand and checks the time. But you catch the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips before he turns away.

He stands, pulling on a shirt and running a hand through his hair again before heading toward the door. “We’re leaving for breakfast soon,” he mutters. “Don’t take too long.”

He steps out before poking his head back in his face serious, “Don’t tell anyone about this,” he says gesturing a finger around towards you and him, right asshole Max is alive and well.

“Right.” you deflate, but none the less walk to your room. You notice the AC now works. 

The warmth of the Italian sun is already starting to filter in through your window as you slip into your pale yellow babydoll dress. The soft fabric feels light against your skin, perfect for the warm weather and the laid-back vibes of the villa.

When you finally make your way downstairs, the smell of fresh coffee and pastries fills the air, and you can hear the familiar hum of laughter and chatter. The villa’s terrace is bathed in sunlight, with everyone seated around the large outdoor table, enjoying breakfast. 

Max is already seated, of course, his usual stoic expression in place. He’s leaning back in his chair, sunglasses on, making it impossible to tell if he’s even noticed you. 

An array of colorful fruits and pastries litters the table, couples chatting and laughing as you offer everyone a warm smile while taking a seat next to Mila, who returns the gesture. “How was the room, darling?” she asks, taking a sip of her tea. You can feel a pair of laser beams on your face, as if Max is staring into your soul.

“Oh, it was truly nice,” you reply, feeling the tips of your ears heat up with nerves. Mila seems to buy it and turns to address the entire group.

“So, guys, today we’re going to take the yacht around,” she announces, eliciting a few excited hoots from your friends. Your stomach tightens at the thought of being stuck on a yacht, but you brush the anxiety aside.

As the chatter around the breakfast table grows, the knot in your stomach tightens at the mention of the yacht. You toy with the edge of your napkin, trying to suppress the wave of nerves that accompanies the idea of being out on the water, especially since you can’t swim.

Max, still leaning back in his chair, tilts his head slightly in your direction, as if he senses the unease radiating off you. His sunglasses shield his eyes, but you swear you can feel his gaze tracing over you. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, and you can almost hear his voice echoing in your mind: “You came to the Amalfi Coast, and you can’t swim?”

You swallow hard, forcing a smile as you join in on the group's excitement, even though the thought of being surrounded by water sends a shiver down your spine. Mila stands, gathering everyone’s attention, and starts guiding the group toward the dock.

The villa’s outdoor space spills into a sprawling garden, leading to a private path that takes you to where the yacht is docked. The sunlight glints off the water, almost blinding in its brightness, as you walk with the others toward the sleek, luxurious yacht. Everyone seems thrilled—laughing and talking about the views they’ll see—while you stay quieter than usual, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves.

You tug at the sleeves of your oversized polo, the fabric bunching slightly in your grip as you focus on steadying your breath. The path to the dock feels longer than it actually is, the sounds of the group’s lively chatter fading into the background. You glance at the shimmering blue water ahead and bite the inside of your cheek.

Max lingers just a few steps behind, and you can feel the weight of his presence even without looking. His footsteps are slow and deliberate, as if he’s watching you closely, waiting for any sign of weakness. You try not to dwell on it, though the image of him smirking at your fear lingers in the back of your mind.

As the group finally boards the yacht, you become hyper-aware of the water surrounding you. The boat rocks gently as everyone gets settled, and you grip the railing tightly, trying to hide your discomfort. Max watches you for a moment before walking past you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours.

“Relax,” he mutters under his breath, not even looking at you, but there’s something almost reassuring in his tone. You exhale slowly, forcing yourself to take a seat with the others, letting the warmth of the sun and the sound of conversation distract you from the vast ocean around you.

As the yacht pulls away from the dock, you try to focus on the scenery. The Amalfi Coast is breathtaking—cliffs draped in greenery, colorful villas dotting the shoreline, and the ocean sparkling beneath the golden sunlight. Everyone around you laughs and soaks up the beauty of the day, but your hands remain clenched in your lap, your mind preoccupied with the endless expanse of water.

Despite your nervousness, you find yourself stealing glances at Max. He’s sitting at the back of the yacht, one arm draped casually over the side, sunglasses shielding his eyes as he stares out at the water. He looks so at ease, completely unaffected by the swaying of the boat or the openness of the sea.

The breeze picks up, ruffling your hair, and as you turn your attention back to the group, you feel the yacht slow down. Mila claps her hands, announcing that they’ve anchored near a beautiful cove, perfect for swimming.

Your stomach drops.

Everyone begins shedding layers, excitement buzzing through the group as they prepare to jump into the water. You stay seated, gripping the edge of your chair as they leap overboard, laughter echoing around you.

Max stands, pulling off his shirt and revealing the defined muscles of his back and shoulders. Your eyes linger for a moment longer than you intend. He catches your gaze just before he moves toward the edge of the yacht, that same smirk playing on his lips.

“You coming in?” he asks, his voice low, almost challenging.

You shake your head quickly, offering a small laugh. “No, I think I’ll just… stay here and enjoy the sun.”

Max arches an eyebrow, clearly not buying your excuse, but he doesn’t push it. He gives you one last look, his smirk still in place, before diving effortlessly into the water.

You watch as your friends giggle and enjoy themselves. Mila waves up at you, and you give her a fake salute. She giggles and goes back to swimming. A few minutes later, several members of the group come up to take a break, Max among them. You hate to admit it, but you watch the water droplets roll off him, his cheeks flushed from the sun, and a tight feeling blooms in your core as you force yourself to look away.

The group is lively, and at one point, Jamie, always the instigator, starts playfully shoving friends toward the edge of the boat, teasing and laughing. You stand at the back, watching, hoping to stay out of the chaos.

But in a moment of playful exuberance, Jamie swings his arm and accidentally nudges you forward. Time seems to slow as you lose your balance, and before you can even process what’s happening, you tumble over the side of the yacht. The water crashes around you, and as you hit the surface, the cold rush envelops you, sending panic gripping your chest. Instinctively, you kick your legs, but the water pulls you under, and you flail in confusion. The world above disappears, and the muffled sounds of laughter and splashing fade into silence.

Just as you start to lose hope, a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back to the surface. You gasp for air, blinking the water from your eyes, and find yourself face-to-face with Max. His expression is intense, irritation etched on his features.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snaps, though his grip is steady and reassuring as he keeps you afloat.

You can’t help but laugh nervously, trying to shake off the fear. “I didn’t want to go in!” you manage to sputter, still clinging to him for dear life.

Max rolls his eyes, the frown returning, though it’s softer this time. “You need to stop thrashing around,” he says, his voice lower now.

As he helps you back onto the yacht, the warmth of the sun hits your damp skin once more. Laughter and cheers erupt from the group as they realize you’re okay, but Max’s presence is the only thing that matters to you in this moment. He doesn’t say anything; his expression remains unreadable as he sets you down.

You catch your breath, water dripping from your hair and running down your arms. “Thanks, Max,” you say, trying to brush off the embarrassment. His usual smirk is absent, and for a split second, you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he cares.

But as soon as you’re on the boat, he steps back, leaving you with the others. “Try not to drown next time,” he says, his tone flat as he pulls his shirt back on, the fabric clinging to his damp skin. It feels more like a reflex than a genuine jab, but you let it slide, laughing it off. “I’ll try my best.”

He turns away, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. You shake your head, trying to focus on the laughter around you as Jamie and Mila check to make sure you’re okay. “Really, I’m fine,” you assure them, even as your heart races from the close call.

Just like that, everyone goes back to normal. Lunch is served, and as the yacht heads back to the dock under the fading light, you’re the first one off, eager to touch solid ground once more. You don’t bid anyone goodnight; you’re all too tired for that. You head upstairs to your room, closing the door behind you and shrugging off your damp polo and swimsuit. You hop in the shower, rinsing the salt water off your skin.

After your shower, the soft sound of knocking pulls you from your thoughts. You wrap yourself in a towel and open the door to find Mila standing there, concern etched across her features.

“Hey, just wanted to check on you,” she says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. Her eyes scan your face, searching for any signs of distress. “That fall looked pretty rough.”

You chuckle softly, waving it off. “I’m fine, really. Just a little embarrassed.”

Mila raises an eyebrow, a sly smile creeping onto her face. “You sure it’s not because of Max? I saw the way he pulled you out of the water. It looked pretty… intimate.”

The mention of Max sends a warmth flooding through you, one that you quickly dismiss. “Oh, please. He was just being a jerk, as usual.”

She smirks, crossing her arms. “Or maybe he just likes the attention.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff, but a small part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it. “He’s just… Max. You know how he is.”

Mila studies you for a moment, trying to read between the lines. “Well, just think about it. He’s not always the way he acts, you know?”

With that, she leaves, and you find yourself lost in thought, her words echoing in your mind. What if Max really did care?

Later that night, curiosity gets the better of you. You stand in front of Max’s door, your heart racing as you knock softly.

“Come in,” he calls, and you push the door open cautiously. He’s lounging on his bed, scrolling through his phone, and for a moment, you’re struck by how at home he looks.

“Hey,” you say, your voice soft. “I just wanted to thank you… for earlier.”

Max looks up, a flicker of something in his gaze before he masks it with indifference. “You mean for saving your ass?” he quips, his smirk returning. “Don’t mention it.”

You roll your eyes, stepping further into the room. “You know, for someone who supposedly doesn’t care, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

His expression shifts, annoyance flickering across his features. “What do you want me to do? Throw you a parade for not drowning?”

“Maybe just a little acknowledgment would be nice,” you counter, crossing your arms defensively.

He stands, taking a step closer, and the air between you crackles with tension. “I don’t like how sweet you are,” he says, his tone sharp. “It’s annoying.”

“Annoying?” you challenge, feeling a rush of defiance. “Is that really all you’ve got? Because it sounds like you’re just scared of someone actually caring.”

Max’s eyes darken, and for a moment, you think he might snap back. But instead, he steps even closer, invading your personal space. “You think you’re so great, don’t you? All sunshine and rainbows, but it doesn’t work with me.”

Before you can respond, he closes the distance, and suddenly, his lips are on yours—fervent and demanding. His warmth envelops you, slightly chapped against your own, igniting a spark that sends a thrill coursing through your entire body. You’re caught off guard at first, but your instincts take over, and you melt into the kiss, feeling his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer.

As the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He presses you against the door, his body firm and solid against yours, radiating heat that makes your pulse quicken. The kiss is intoxicating; every second stretches into eternity—his lips moving against yours in a dance that feels both wild and tender.

When you finally pull away, breathless, your heart races as you search his eyes. “Wait… Max—”

He leans in again, his breath mingling with yours, heavy with longing. “You taste sweet,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, a smirk tugging at his lips.

A rush of warmth floods your cheeks at his words. “Is that all you have to say?” you tease, a smile breaking through your fluster.

Max steps back slightly, his hands still resting on your hips as he watches you intently. “What do you want me to say? That I’m an asshole who can’t help but want you?”

The air between you buzzes with unspoken tension—a mix of frustration and attraction. You feel exhilarated yet confused, unable to ignore the thrill of being this close to him, the chemistry crackling like electricity.

“Maybe you could start by admitting you actually care,” you challenge softly, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Maybe,” he replies, a hint of seriousness in his tone before leaning in again, capturing your lips with his. This time, it’s even more intense; his hands grip your waist as he deepens the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he can’t get enough of you.

But as the moment stretches on, you pull back slightly, breathless. “Max—”

He leans in again, and you find yourself needing to physically stop him, your hands resting on his chest. “Wait, we can’t just—”

“Why not?” he presses, his voice low and needy, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

You’re both panting, caught in an electric moment. “You’re infuriating, you know that?” you say, a smile creeping onto your lips despite the chaos swirling around you.

Max smirks, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, but you like it.” He crashes his lips against yours once more, and as he pulls away, he runs his tongue along his lower lip, a boyish smirk breaking through. “Sweet like honey,” he teases, prompting you to laugh and tilt your head back. Without thinking, you pull him down by his shirt collar, kissing him again, lost in the moment.

[starchaseriseverything]

Sirius wakes to screams and jumping on his bed. “Dad!” They yell. “Daddy, wake up!” Sirius opens his eyes to see his son down by his feet jumping next to his sisters who are by Remus. Sirius looks over to his husband sitting up, arms crossed over his chest glaring at their children like they just interrupted his reading time, and they probably did.

“You’re supposed to be with your uncle.” Remus says to them, voice soft, but still an angry look on his face.

Sirius decides to sit up and Hermione comes to sit down in his lap followed by Violet between Remus and him and Teddy in Remus’s lap. Remus puts his arms around his son as Sirius did with their daughter. “They dropped us off.” Violet answers. “Said we were too crazy.”

“Never said that!” James’s voice comes from the other side of the door before it opens to reveal three more kids running in and jumping on their bed followed by James himself sitting at the end of it.

“Uncle Siri!” Rose yells, jumping on the bed and landing right next to Violet.

Remus glares at James and he just smiles back. “What? They wanted to see their uncle.”

“Doesn’t mean they should.” Remus answers as Mia sits down in James’ lap and Leo beside them.

“But it’s fun to watch you be tortured, Rem.” Regulus says, walking into the room and sitting by James as Leo goes to sit next to him.

Remus glares at him. “Alright, children. Let’s go get breakfast.” Everyone cheers and jumps up, racing down the stairs. Once James and Regulus are out of the room, Remus turns to him. “Bad start to the day?”

Sirius smiles at him and shakes his head. “No. It’s nice.” Remus leans over and kisses him before standing up to get dressed.

Once everyone is in the car, Sirius calls James and he answers on the first ring. “Where are we going?” James asks over the phone.

“Just follow us.” Remus says, starting the car.

“You sure you know where you’re going?”

“Yes, James. Just tell Regulus to follow us.”

“Who says I’m not driving?”

“You’re a bad driver. Of course it’s Regulus.” Sirius giggles at his husband’s response and hangs up the phone before a fight could break out.

“So, where are we going?” Sirius asks once they start moving.

“It’s a surprise.”

Sirius gasps once they park outside a restaurant. “Perkins!?” Sirius yells and reaches over the middle console to kiss Remus. Disgusted sounds come from the back and the two partners in the front laugh before stepping out of the car.

The six kids race to the doors and pull them open, Rose waiting for her fathers and uncles before closing it behind them and racing inside the other doors which Leo’s holding for them.

The breakfast was amazing to say the least, Sirius gets the same thing everytime, pancakes and bacon, he never mixes it up. He tried once, and it sucked, he was starving until lunch time because he couldn’t even eat a second bite of anything.

Sirius hums all the way back to the car, happy he got to see his brother for breakfast before they went on their way. “Happy birthday, Padfoot.” James says once they pull apart from their hug.

Regulus walks up to them once the kids are in their seats and buckled. “Happy birthday, Sirius.”

“Thanks for coming.” Sirius replies.

“James had to see you.”

James dramatically gasps. “I thought we agreed the kids wanted to see him? Rude.” Regulus rolls his eyes at his husband before walking to their car, followed by James seconds later.

Sirius gets in their car followed by Remus a few minutes later. “So, where to next?” Remus asks him.

“Home.”

“Board games!?” The kids scream once Sirius comes out of the hall closet with stacked games in his arms.

“We’re playing board games?” Remus asks, unamused.

“Well, if we have kids, might as well do something fun.” Remus rolls his eyes but sits down on the ground nonetheless. “What do you want to play first?” Sirius asks the kids once he’s sitting down beside Remus, games in the middle of the circle they formed.

“Candy land!” Teddy yells, grabbing it from the pile and a game piece from the coffee table. They had to buy an extra game piece for every game that only had four players. Family game night is when they usually play games, but Sirius likes the games so much, he tries to have game night more than once, but Remus likes reading more than games.

They play the games until their stomachs start growling and Remus goes to make dinner while the others play and even after dinner, they continue to play until the sun is down and the moon is up and it’s the kids' bedtime.

They groan as they walk up the stairs to their rooms, but they fall asleep quickly with how tired they were. After all the kids are asleep, Sirius drags Remus down the stairs and back to the floor to beat him at all the games. Of course Sirius didn’t win most of them, but Remus let him win some like he always does.

Sirius does his victory dance the whole night, even if he lost the games, he still won, because he has the most beautiful husband ever and the best kids he could ask for, even if they’re not always angels.