#i miss knowing who you were and your favorite color and where you hide and why you cry

[aye-jaye-2005]

guys the duality of siblings

i changed your diapers and taught you how to read. i hate your very existence and wish you were never born. if fate was so cruel that you died first i would be the last to leave your funeral and the first to bring you flowers. i don't know who the fuck you are and i'm just fine with that. look at me the same way you did all those years ago when we were both still kids because i miss you. if i could kill you and get away with it i would. please come back to me i raised you better than this even though i didn't raise you at all. i hate you so much. i would steal the stars from the sky if it's what you wanted. we are complete strangers and that's just fine with me. i don't recognize you any more please come back. i can't wait to move out so i don't have to see you ever again. please can we play together just one more time i miss it so much.

idk just the duality of siblings

[rotapathetic]

⧼⠀𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 .ᐟ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 ┆𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𖥟

awkward flusteredness ะ mild creep behavior ะ worried inner monologue ะ pathetic.ᐟrafe introduction ะ

your friend shoved your arm for the third time, you rolling your eyes, turning to look at her, “would you stop?” your friend only chuckled in return, “did you hear me? look at him, is he asleep? in public?” she laughed.

you scrunched your brows, looking to where her eyes were focused. the boy did look to be asleep. hunched over, head low. but you saw the fidgeting of his fingers on the table top. why was he alone?

“you should go talk to him. bet he’s fun to chat with,” your friend joked. you looked over to her, upset, “you’re seriously rude. i’m going over and i’m not coming back,” you stood from your chair, making your away across the floor to where the guy sat.

you twiddled your fingers, not knowing what to say since he didn’t notice you yet. you let out a little, “ahem,” his head snapping up at the sound. gosh, he was cute. why hide that face? the boy startled, staring at you for a few seconds, before looking behind you. you furrowed a brow. was he looking for someone who was recording the interaction?

you ignored the thought, instead greeting him, “hi. it’s probably weird to say i was watching you, but i saw you hunched and wanted to say that’s probably uncomfortable and ask if you wanted someone to talk to?”

he was a quiet one. he fiddled with the sleeves of his long sleeve, rubbing the back of his neck. he placed his hands back on the table when he thought that was a weird thing to do with his hands. he made fists then un scrunched them, lying his palms flat on the table, all while staring ahead at nothing. to you, this was all happening in silence. to him, his brain was so loud, he would be surprised you couldn’t hear.

pretty girl. don’t do that with your hands. ask her if she wants to sit. why would she sit with me? i don’t think it’s a joke. she’s really pretty. does she have a boyfriend? where is he?

“or not . . sorry, i’ll go . . ” you were a step away when rafe spoke up, “please don’t,” and it was enough to make you quickly turn back around, not wanting to leave him either, “i mean . . you can sit if you want.”

her outfit is really pretty. is that her favorite color? what else does she like? does she like the way i look? does she want me to change anything?

rafe ran a hand over his head at the thought. you introduced yourself, asking for his name. when he spoke too low, you asked him to repeat it, “rafe,” he said a little louder, sliding lower in his seat when he thought he was too loud. you slightly smiled, “rafe . . i like that name. are you here with anyone, rafe?”

what he wouldn’t do to hear you say his name over and over. how could he get you to stay so you can keep saying it? he was too busy thinking to respond to your question, quickly remembering you asked something, “um . . no. i was supposed to meet with someone, but it’s been an hour and i thought maybe they’ll still show up, and i probably shouldn’t be saying this, that’s super embarrassing,” he dropped his head, burying his head in his hands.

you frowned, “only super embarrassing for whoever that person is. they’re missing out on getting to know a great guy. a pretty cute guy . . ” rafe was great at hiding his emotions, but they flared up wildly inside of him at the compliment.

you thought he was cute, that meant you liked him, right? did you want him to be your boyfriend? he should compliment you back. how pretty your guys’ eye colors are together, which is a sign to a pretty couple. how incomparable you look to the moon shining behind you. how pretty you would look chained to his side so you wouldn’t leave.

he was silent the entire time while thinking, finally remembering to respond, blurting out a response, “you’re pretty too,” you smiled shyly, “thanks . . so i guess it would also be pretty cool to get your number, maybe?” you felt awkward too, but not as much as rafe.

he quickly pulled out his phone, handing you the device. it was a older model, something you haven’t seen in a few years. you smiled at how him it was, entering your number, “okay. i’m heading home now . . i’ll text you later,” you waved timidly, leaving the table, not before turning to look back once more. rafe was still staring intensely at you.

you didn’t need to know rafe quickly went to his place after you, gripping his phone on the way back, then waiting patiently in his room by his phone for your text.

[fefern]

✧˖° first dates with them. | lingyang, m!rover, jiyan headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: going on a first date is always nerve wracking, yet can also be exciting! what's it like for these boys to take you out on your first date together?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved (separate): lingyang, male rover, jiyan, and a gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hello! coming to you live with my first post for wuwa! just some cute little headcanons with the boys on first dates with you because i love planning dates out ;;!! requests are open if you want to talk or have me write something!! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

Lingyang

Lingyang has never been more excited or nervous to hang out with someone, even more so since this was his first date with you. 

As someone who always seemed to fear being different from the humans around him, he felt extra self-conscious when he looked in the mirror and adjusted his outfit. Did he look alright? Were you going to enjoy this as much as he thought he would? Will everything go well? What if you decided you changed your mind and didn’t want to date someone of his species?

His first date gift for you would be a small lion plushie. Cute and fluffy with vibrant colors, he’d hold it out in front of him and shut his eyes tight, anxiety flowing through him. “These are for you! That way, when you miss me, you can hug this! If you want to, no pressure!” 

He’d be ecstatic when you took it into your hands and held it throughout your date together, happily looking between you and the plush and feeling his cheeks turn a rosy pink that you two were going out together. 

He’d probably take you to the best food spots all around Jinzhou, ranting about which dishes to try or who had his favorite foods. He’d want to get to know you more, curious and nervous as he’s asking you about your likes, dislikes, what your daily life is like in Jinzhou. Lingyang would walk and eat with you along the way, practically enamored by anything you did or said. 

His tail would swish fast back and forth whenever you were talking. Even if it’s something you found mundane, he couldn’t help but be happy just listening to you speak. His ears will also be very reactive around you, usually up but always reacting accordingly to whenever you’d tell a story or joke with him. 

He’ll let you pet him if you want to, he trusts you after all. His cheeks flush a soft pink and he lets out a small purr when you do so, finding himself growing a bit shyer at the sweet touch. He also feels a tad embarrassed by it, so you’ll have to pry his hands away as he childishly hides the way he’s turning red from you. 

He seems a little bit sad when you two do have to part, but when you ask him when the next one would be, a hopeful look emerges in his eyes as he begins to excitedly make plans to see you again and take you on another date. 

Other Points:  - Will jump in place when super excited to tell you something while on the date.  - Would point to some random cute things on your walk and go, “That reminds me of you!” - Happy to talk about lion dancing with you, and if you show more interest in it, he’ll offer to give you your own personal show one day!

Rover (Male)

Considering he is a person that just woke up in a strange world with no memories of his past or who he is, he is a bit lost on the idea of what to do during a date with you. Were there rules he had to follow? Did people in Jinzhou have certain taboos or ways that they executed dates?

He’d most likely ask all around the city in order to find out what to do or where to take you. He wanted to make sure the experience was good after all, not something that the both of you would dread. 

When he meets up with you, his hair is a bit more put together than usual and he stands up tall, giving you a small smile as he gently takes your arm and links it with his. 

“Take me around the city. Show me how you see the world through your eyes.”

His first date gift would be a small box of candy. I could definitely see Rover as being a person who likes small sweet treats as a guilty pleasure, and he’d want to share them with you as a way of connecting you with something that you love. 

He’s calm throughout most of your stroll, browsing through stores or looking around in quiet curiosity as you show him little nooks and crannies of the city. He enjoyed hearing how you would describe stores or fixate on different areas of the city that he hadn’t thought to really pay attention to before. 

He makes a mental note of the places that you like so that for your next date, you two could come back to them. Rover is already a few steps ahead in terms of thinking where he wants to go with you or what he wants to do. 

When you’re done showing him the city, he’ll give you a kind, endearing look and smile at you. He’ll take a moment to just admire you, shifting some of your hair out of your face and enjoy being in your presence before ultimately, it is time to part ways. He’ll wave you off, thanking you for everything and giving him a tour, before he smiles to himself like a fool and turns to head back to his quarters. 

Other Points: - Probably would be looking at you more than the city.  - Fast walker, so you’d have to keep up the pace. Apologies if he’s going too fast and happens to catch you struggling. - Will inquire about certain places just to listen to you talk. 

Jiyan

As the general of the Midnight Rangers that conducts himself in a poised, righteous manner, he’d be the most classy out of all the people to take you out on a date. 

Jiyan’s got a busy schedule as the head of such an important group in Jinzhou, but after bonding with you and asking you out he wanted to ensure that he carved out time in advance for just you and him to spend an afternoon together. 

He’d take you to a fancy restaurant in Jinzhou, the best money can buy. He’d be sure to pick you up from your place and walk with you to the restaurant. When you open the door, he’s standing in front of you with his hair slicked back and ponytail waving a bit in the wind, his clothes pristine and ironed out to look his absolute best in front of you. 

His present for you is a bouquet of flowers he made himself. He enlisted the help of his mom for this one, catching up with her about medical practices as he puts together the best pecok, irises, and poppies that he could find when he was out on his rounds into a pretty bouquet just for you. It’s wrapped up with brown paper and has a nice aqua bow on it, matching his hair.

When you get to the restaurant, he’ll look at the menu with you and ask you to order anything your heart desires. He already knows what he wants to eat, and will quietly look at you with a softened expression as you begin choosing what you want. He finds the way you handle yourself beautiful, even if it’s through simple things like ordering food. 

Jiyan will happily eat anything you don’t end up finishing. He doesn’t want to waste money, and he also cannot deny that the way you ask him to finish your plate was cute. He’ll work it off anyways with the amount of fighting and training he does, so he doesn’t mind. 

Will pay for the meal. No splitting or you paying, as much as you might plead and beg.

Will take you back to your place and entertain any questions you may have for him, whether it be about his past, missions he’s been on, or just about his duties as general of the Midnight Rangers. When he drops you off, he’d take the back of your hand and gently place a kiss on it before standing up straight and giving you a small smile, wishing you a goodnight. 

Other Points: - Will hold all your belongings so your hands are free and light. Does not matter how heavy or how much you have, he will refuse to let you “labor” like that, as he puts it.  - Admires your personality and the way you hold yourself when you speak. - Has a strong desire to protect you; always subconsciously keeping an eye out for any danger even though it’s daylight out.

[glamourscat]

I request a fic! A Remus lupin and reader fic where like basically reader takes care of him after the full moon but she doesn’t know and when he tells her she is basically like “omfg I am so so sorry” and she gets very gentle and doesn’t know how to proceed and Remus confesses he really like her

im sorry for being so late, I couldn’t find the ask anymore for some reasons. I hope you like the fic, and kinda ironic posting it today, considering it’s Remus’s bday 😭

The dormitory was quiet when you slipped in, armed with chocolate frogs and the today’s class notes. You were surprised when James had given you the password to the boys' dorm without much of an explanation, but now you understood why. Remus looked awful.

Face pale, except for a nasty bruise across his cheekbone. Several scratches and old scars marked his arms.

"I brought your favorite," you said softly, holding up the chocolate frogs. "And the Transfiguration notes you missed."

Remus startled, apparently not having heard you come in, too absorbed in his book. "O-oh. Thank you." He tried to sit up, but winced.

"Don't move— please. It’s not necessarily, seriously." You said gently, moving to carefully to sit on the edge of his bed, trying not to disturb him. "I'm sorry about earlier, by the way. About teasing you for skipping again. If I'd known you were actually ill..."

"It's fine." He wouldn't meet your eyes, playing with a loose thread on his jumper. "You didn't know.”

Something in his voice made you pause. You'd known Remus for six years now, and you liked to think you two were close enough to recognise his various tones. The dry one he used when Sirius was being particularly dramatic. The excited one when discussing his favourite book of the month and the gentle one when helping you with your homework. This, though... this was different.

"Remus?" you asked quietly. "What's really going on?"

He tensed, still not looking at you. "What do you mean?"

"You disappear every month. You come back looking like you've been in a fight—- I just don’t know. You look tired. Not to mention you coincidentally skip classes every month after the full moon."

The color drained from his face. "I... I don't..."

"If you don't want to tell me, that's okay," you added quickly, reassuring. "But I'm worried about you. And I'm here, if you want to talk."

Silence stretched between you, broken only by the distant sounds of students in the distant common room below. Finally, Remus spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

"I'm a werewolf."

The words hung in the air. You watched as he seemed to grow paler and paler. Almost hiding in that oversized jumper of his as if, trying to make himself look smaller. Or disappear completely.

"That's why I disappear. Every full moon, I... transform. Madam Pomfrey helps patch me up afterward, but sometimes it's worse than others. Last night was... particularly bad." He continued not looking at you, but rather his bed sheets, suddenly interesting.

You processed the new information, pieces clicking into place. His monthly absences, the scars, why his friends called him "Moony." Or why his friends were so overprotective of him to begin with.

"Oh, Remus," you breathed.

He flinched. "Please— I— don’t need pity. And… I understand if you want to leave. If you don't want to be around me anymore. I'm dangerous, I'm—"

You cut him off by carefully taking his hand. Your thumb drawing soft circles on an old, almost disappeared, scar on his hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

He finally looked at you, eyes wide with disbelief. "But... I'm—." You cut him off.

"You're Remus John Lupin," you corrected firmly. "The boy who helped my foolish ass when I kept getting lost during my first year. Who is always so attentive of everyone’s needs. Who once spent three hours teaching me the Patronus charm because I was struggling." You squeezed his hand in reassurance.

A small smile appeared on his face, almost shy. Almost teasing. His voice was soft, playful, yet there was a hint of uncertainty behind it. "You're... really okay with this?"

"More than okay. Though, I do feel terrible about all those times I teased you for missing class. Merlin, I'm such an idiot."

"No, you're..." He swallowed hard. "You're perfect, actually. And I... I fancy you. Quite a lot. Have for ages." The words tumbled out in a rush, like he couldn't quite believe he was saying them. "Which is probably terrible timing, and you definitely don't have to—"

You cut him off again, a seemingly habit by now, by leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to his unbruised cheek. "I fancy you too, you moron. Affectionately."

"Oh." His face flushed pink. "That's... that's good. Brilliant, actually. Um—"

A knock at the door interrupted whatever extra he was about to say. "Oi, Moony!" Sirius's loud voice called. "Is it safe to come in or are you two still making heart eyes at each other?"

"Padfoot!" You heard still from outside, and the echo of what appeared to be James smacking him.

Remus groaned flustered, but he was still smiling. "We should probably let them in before they break down the door."

"Probably," you agreed, but you didn't move from your spot beside him. "For the record, though, this doesn't change anything. Except maybe now… we can start— you know, going on dates and stuff?" You murmur, a bit flustered, unsure how to phrase the turmoil in your heart.

His smile softened into something wonderfully warm. "I'd like that."

"GET IN THERE, MOONY!" Sirius shouted through the door.

"I'm going to hex him," Remus sighed exasperated, but a laugh escaped his lips and you couldn't help but join in.

Maybe it wasn't the most conventional way to confess your feelings, but then again, nothing about Remus Lupin had ever been conventional. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[rhyrhy]

Fields of you 🍎

Finished! 13k words

Farmhand Abby! X female reader

Synopsis: Nana was right; Anderson, ‘Miss Fix-It,’ was a looker... And you were definitely staring.

⚠︎︎︎ cw: homophobia, angst/fluff, Yearning (lesbian shit), slowburn!

Taglist cuties: @abbylvr69 @snake-in-a-flower-crown @cutyoursoul @abbyswh0r3

How did it all start?

Well, with one day in mid-February…

One: Under the hood ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The sunlight poured through your sheer cream-colored curtains, casting a heavy golden glow over your eyelids. The familiar smell of coffee poured into your room. That meant Nana was up. I better get up before she thinks I’m sleeping the day away, you thought. knowing how your grandmother doesn’t believe in staying in bed all day.

Nana and Papaw had been taking care of you since the days of pigtails and hiding under their wooden dining table.

You could still picture the same rocking chair on the porch where Nana would sit you down, tugging your hair into too-tight ponytails with those clunky, colorful beads at the ends. “Keep them hands out your head,” she’d warn, swatting your then small hands away.

She wasn’t being mean she just wanted it to be out of your face so you wouldn’t bump into anymore walls or track mud on the floors. They loved you. even if they were hard sometimes, that’s grandparents for you. Loving ones, anyway.

As you grew into a young woman your papaw would always pull the hem of your clothes down or ask you to put jackets on as he didn’t want men on the farm ‘getting ideas’. little did he know you weren’t the slightest bit interested in the males who came and gone on the land.

Especially after seeing her. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

You sat up, rubbed your eyes, and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. After throwing on your usual work boots, you headed out, careful to avoid stepping in Clover’s excrement one too many times in your nice shoes. The house dog, who shadowed nana.

Making your way down the carpeted stairs to see the familiar sight of Papaw in his usual seat on the end of the couch, newspaper in hand, circling deals from the supermarket. And Nana in the kitchen making breakfast, which you always helped with.

Not feeling particularly hungry, you settled for some fruit and buttered toast. Nana raised an eyebrow at your choice but didn’t press though. However, she couldn’t resist saying, “Your stomach’s gonna be talkin’ to ya soon.” Which is just her way of saying ‘please eat later’.

You promised you would and headed out for the day.

The sun was beaming down on the grass, the air was warm complimented by the crisp breeze of the small gust of wind. pushing small pieces of hair off your lipgloss that stuck occasionally.

Meanwhile, Papaw put on his beanie to keep his head warm, no matter the weather. Along with the swish of his pants that your nana hated but it was his favorite pair. so, jokes about the noise sufficed instead of her throwing them out.

“Oh good lord” papaw groaned, as the engine of his truck struggled to keep—again. That thing was a bucket of bolts, but he wouldn’t scrap it. He loved it yet was always surprised when it broke down on occasion. through he always got it magically working again with some handyman who lived down the road apparently. They felt like a myth as you never got a chance to meet em’. “They could fix just about anything with their hands”. You just always gave papaw a pat on the shoulder when he would happily exclaimed that it was up and running again so he could continue his day.

“I’ll call Anderson,” Nana called from the doorway, shaking her head. She wished he’d just use one of the newer vehicles.

Yeah, Anderson. That was the name Papaw always dropped when talking about the helping hand. Yet, You didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Nana snapped you out of your thoughts with a teasing smile. “You’re quiet today, sugar.”

“Just thinking,” you replied.

“Well, stop all that thinkin’. Barn won’t clean itself, ya know.”

She joked and nodded towards the side door.

Welp, time to get muddy and that gross yet comforting smell that lingered as made your way to the showers. By the time you were done, your arms ached, and that earthy smell crept in.

You didn’t mind the extra elbow grease you had to put in helping on the land you used to run a muck in.

Sighing deeply, and cleaning your hands off with a rag. You made your way back to the house, to see if nana needed you to do anything else before you flopped down on your bed and spent a few hours reading.

The sounds of humming and metal clinking traveling into your earshot as you crunched down the gravel path. you were always greatful for it, as your sense of direction wasn’t the best, really. how embarrassing would it be to get lost on the land you grew up on. As you grew closer your sore eyes caught a glimpse of something that made you double take.

A Head ducked under the popped hood. One boot rested on the bumper. The other knee deep into the car, like she’d be swallowed if she leaned in any closer. White skintight top stuck to the figures toned torso. Sweat on their lower back. As your eyes trailed higher, you couldnt help but feel a little fluttered at the slight of their arms flexing with each twist, pull, and tinker. they really knew what they were doing.

The all-mighty handyman Papaw always talked about was a woman?

And woman she was indeed.

You tilted your head and took a step forward to get a better look, you couldn’t help yourself.

The crunch from behind gave her a slight startle the woman bumping her head on the hood. Dropping her tool in her hand to rub the spot. One eye shut from the sting. Your hand flew to your mouth, feeling bad for giving her such a scare. Yeah, you probably should have announced yourself.

“Damn it” she mumbled.

A pause breezes by as she steps out from under the hood of the vehicle. Still rubbing her head with a wince.“Well, that’s one way to start the day.”

“Oh my, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—Are you okay?”

She raises an eyebrow, curiously looking you over with small smile tugging at her lips.

“Just a bump, nothing major” She laughs, wiping grease off her hands. “If your grandfather sent you over, I’m just about finished.”

She knew of you? You almost felt bad, that means your grandparents must have been embarrassing you. Telling stories and what not, but You nodded, and proceeded to make small talk and double checking that she was alright with the small bump of her head. Her voice was soft, in contrast to her appearance.

Halfway through the conversation, you both realized you hadn’t to introduce yourself properly and that’s when you finally knew her name.

Abigail ‘Abby’ Anderson.

A name that definitely suited her. now, you only hoped papaws truck broke down more often because…

she was a sight you wouldn’t mind seeing more often.

Two: causal conversation ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Yesterday,

Abby couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes would linger on her biceps during the conversation. She was used to people staring, but something about your lingering glances made her feel more self-conscious than usual.

A small part of her would come undone when you looked at her like that. But it wasn’t just physical; it was how easy the conversation came to you both... it was... nice. Not to say that Papaw wasn’t a chatter when she fixed his truck, but this was different, maybe?

She couldn’t quite place her finger on what felt so different about your short interaction with her. Before she could dive deeper into why, she gave a light chuckle, breaking the brief trace of thought.

“Well, I better finish up.” She gave the old reddish-brown truck a light pat as she turned back towards the hood.

Later, that day

You had made your way back to the main house, feeling a little embarrassingly flushed by the sight of Abby working on Papaw's car. “Miss Fix-It,” he called her, and it was damn sure fitting. He failed to mention how much of a stunner she was, you thought.

The screen door creaked open; Nana was in the kitchen when you walked in. She was at the stove, stirring a pot of what smelled like chili, and glanced your way with a raised eyebrow.

“Who was that you were talkin’ to?” She asked curiously.

“Just Abby, saying hi.” You went to the sink to wash your hands, getting any grime from the day off.

Nana stirred the pot a few more times before resting the spoon against the side.

“Mhm, ’just saying hi, huh?” She teased, a look crossing her face.

the thoughts paused. ‘Is she reading my mind?’ You brushed it off and quickly replied.

“Yeah, I hadn’t met her before today is all.” You shrugged nonchalantly. Unfortunately, Nana leaned against the counter, studying you for a moment before speaking up again.

“…Well, isn’t she a looker?”

She mentioned it casually, a sly smirk on her lips as she watched you for any kind of response. You paused and kept your eyes on your hands washing them. The warm water only adding to the slight embarrassment creeping in

“Oh, I wasn’t looking hard, but I’m sure you’re right.” You lamely brushed off. Oh, of course you were looking. It was burnt into your memory.

The sweat trickling down her forehead. Her muscles flexing with each movement. The way the wind caught her stray hairs from her braid. The lines of her waist when she lifted the hem of her shirt to wipe her forehead. Her hands, that you couldn’t help what they would feel like touching your ski—yes. You were definitely looking. Nana couldn’t know that, though. She was a gossip, and the last thing you needed was her telling anyone your business.

You went on the rest of the breezy day as usual. Remembering you told Papaw you’d check in on Delilah. The heavily pregnant cow, amongst others. As you headed out to the barn, the crisp air tickled on your skin, and you could see Delilah lounging in her usual spot. Her belly rounder than ever.

You spent some time tending to Delilah, making sure she had everything she needed. The gentle, steady presence of the expectant cow was oddly calming. Occasionally, you could hear the soft rustling of straw from the other cows and horses in the barn, a gentle reminder that life was going on around you.

As you finished up with Delilah, making sure she was fed and comfortable, you couldn't help but wonder about Abby. Nana's teasing had stuck with you, and your thoughts kept drifting back to the striking woman you'd met earlier. Was your staring really that obvious? That’s embarrassing, good lord.

The image of her broad shoulders and strong arms working on the truck kept popping into your mind, each time sending a small jolt through you. you bite your lip and shook your head. She was an acquaintance and Papaw's friend; you shouldn’t be thinking like that. Get it together.

Returning to the house, you made your way upstairs to your room. As you walked down the familiar hallway, the quiet peacefulness of the farmhouse sank in. It seemed like everyone was either resting or out working, leaving the house eerily still. As you entered your room, you noticed the soft afternoon sun streaming in through the bay window. You sank down onto your bed, the soft sheets enveloping you as you laid back and closed your eyes. Letting the day and thoughts of Miss ‘Fix It’ roll off your back.

However, as you lay there with your eyes closed, your thoughts kept drifting back to Abby… and the memory of her eyes, locked onto yours... Those eyes—you groaned. And rolled over onto your stomach, face stuffed into your pillow.

You just met this woman; stop it. Just sleep.

Today,

Eventually, the sound of Nana’s voice outside your door jerked you from dreamland.

“Girl! You better wake up before you waste the whole day!” She called out from the hallway, her voice soft but filled with determination to get you moving again.

After the refreshing shower and a change of clothes, you made your way down to the kitchen, where Nana was busying herself with preparing breakfast. Her comforting morning routine. The aroma of whatever she was cooking wafted through the air, and your stomach rumbled in anticipation. Gosh, I’m hungry.

It would be nice to have a distraction from the thoughts you were having, Miss Handywoman.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange. The air was still crisp, with a hint of dew on the grass. You took a deep breath, relishing the familiar scent of the farm that filled your nose.

As you made your way to the spot where Papaw’s truck was parked, you noticed something different. The usual rattle of the engine as he tried to start it was gone. It must be up and running again.

You approached the truck, and as you got closer, you saw the now-familiar figure of Abby leaning into the engine. Dressed in her work boots, a flannel, and faded jeans. She worked gracefully, her hands moving with practiced precision. The early morning sun glinted off the tools in her hand and highlighted the sweat on her brow. She hadn’t noticed you yet, her focus entirely on the task in front of her.

Should you say hi? You didn’t want to scare her like last time…. Okay, here goes.

“Good morning,” you called. Trying to not stare.

Abby looked up, surprise and then a smile crossing her features. A few loose strands of hair clung to her forehead, damp with sweat. She straightened up, using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her brow.

“Mornin’,” she replied, her voice soft, tone that rang through your ears beautifully. She set the wrench in her hand down and leaned back against the truck, crossing her arms.

“You’re up early again, huh?”

“Oh, I guess I am, “and you are fixing that bucket of bolts again?” You joked. Abby chuckled along, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She eyed the truck; her expression felt fond.

“Guess your Papaw just can’t help but test my skills every other week.” She teased, tapping the hood fondly with her knuckles.

“He’s bound and determined to get his money’s worth out of me.”You couldn’t help but follow the movement of her hand. What you wouldn’t do to have it on your skin.

“Well, he appreciates you coming when he calls. Talks about you all the time”, you said, glancing back to her face.

“Oh yeah? Only good things, I hope?” Her smile widened, a slightly bashful expression on her face. She ran a hand through her hair.

You reassured that it was only ever good things. Abby chuckled again at your response, picking up her wrench and resuming her work on the engine.

"Better be," she replied, "I don't need him spreading any rumors about me.” She teased, her voice light and playful as she tightened a bolt.

"But in all seriousness, I like fixing things and helping people. It's satisfying, you know? Especially when what you're working on is as stubborn as a mule, but you just keep at it..." Her words trailed off as she concentrated on the engine again.

You couldn’t help but selfishly feel disappointed. You wanted to keep the conversation going, but you had your own things to do, and she was clearly busy. Before heading out, you gave her one last once-over. drifting from her skilled hands to her face. Every now and then, she would mutter something under her breath or bite her lip, concentrating on the complex mechanical dance she was leading. It was fascinating and captivating. You could almost feel her dedication in the way she moved, in the precision of her every action. God, what else can those hands do?

You turned your head away, shaking it of those wondering thoughts.

“Well, I’ll see you around; have fun,” you said, turning on your heels to get back to your own task. Abby looked up from under the hood, giving you a questionable look, but seeing the glance you were so not subtly giving her, she smiled.

“Uh huh, sure you will. See ya round, yeah?”

She said in a sing-song tone, almost knowing full well the effect she was having on you. As she watched you walk away.

The day went on as usual, your chores and duties keeping you busy. But, much like a melody that gets stuck in your mind, Abby’s voice and smile crept their way back into your thoughts every now and again. You tried to resist the urge to think about her or the way her muscles flexed when she leaned over the truck… Nope, you shook your head. Focus. Focus.

Jesus, it’s been two days, and she’s already driving you up a wall from casual conversation?

What the hell were you going to do now?

Three: late night ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

By the time the sun was setting, the barn was cleaned, and the livestock were fed and tucked in for the night. Before heading into the house to wash up, you stopped by the driveway, wanting to see if Papaw’s truck looked any better.

The last thing you saw was Abby’s yellow toolbox resting on the bumper, confirming she’d left for the day. Oddly, you enjoyed the sight. It was almost like she left behind a small part of her.

As night fell, you tried to get some rest, but unfortunately your thoughts went wandering back to the handywoman. You cursed yourself for thinking about her so much.

The memory of her, focused, knee-deep in the hood of the car, was too stubborn to be ignored. Tossing and turning, every time your eyes closed, she would appear in your mind.

Ugh!

You eventually gave up on sleep, kicking off the tangled fuzzy blankets and sitting up in bed. A small creak followed your movements. You had a crush, no doubt. Abby was like a stubborn splinter you just couldn’t get rid of. You decided some cold air might help clear your head and quiet your racing thoughts.

A small annoyance crept in: not being able to sleep over a woman you barely knew? Felt pathetic, downright.

With it being too late to phone a friend, a walk sounded like the most sound decision. You tiptoed down the carpeted stairs, onto the worn wood. Creaking open the side door, you saw Clover settled in sound sleep on the corner of the porch. Your house slippers softly padded down the gravel and dirt path, needing to clear your mind.

Outside, the night air was comforting. The stars against the black-blue sky. crickets somewhat replacing the noisy thoughts in your head. You’d been walking about for a good while, enjoying the peace and quiet of the night, when suddenly, an unfamiliar sound cut through the silence. It was coming from nearby. A series of soft clangs and muffled cursing.

You knew approaching wasn't the best decision, but who would be on your family’s land at this hour? Were they doing something they weren’t supposed to? Or maybe lost?

You crept closer to the noise, not wanting to make a sound just in case. As you neared down the path, you spotted a soft glow coming from the open garage door of a barn. a figure silhouetted against the warm light within.

The cursing got a little louder and more colorful, but with a familiarity to it. Then, as you came to a stop beside the open door, the mystery was solved. There, still dressed in her work clothes, was Abby, kneeling beside a familiar black truck. She was clearly having car troubles.

“You alright?” You called out, arms crossed.

Abby jumped at the sound of your voice, not expecting anyone else to be around at this hour, especially not you.

"Oh! You scared me!” She exclaimed, a hand over her chest, eyes wide from the surprise. You were going to give her a heart attack at this rate. Maybe you should start wearing a bell, to keep from scaring her for a third time.

“Sorry! Sorry!” You said, lips falling into a small frown. Abby shook her head, a soft, warm chuckle escaping her lips.

"Nah, don’t apologize. It’s my own fault for being so focused I didn’t hear you come up."

She shifted on her knees, pushing back a brown strand of hair that fell on her face. She looked worn down but still so, so gorgeous.

“It’s late…Why aren’t you home?” You asked, tilting your head. Scanning over the clear frustration on her face. She shrugged, her gaze returning to the truck's engine as she spoke.

"Eh, I've always been a bit of a night owl. Plus, this old rust bucket decided to give me a few more problems.” She gestured to the vehicle, a hint of frustration in her voice.

Abby went on to explain that she’d be out here in the dark for around an hour, give or take. It was almost cartoonish how upset she was. Honestly though, after a long day of work, your car not working would definitely have steam blowing out of anyone’s ears.

You watched as she reached for a rag and wiped some grease off her hands. Picking up on the small habit of constantly cleaning off her hands while working.

You sat arms crossed listening the best you could. She did help out around the land; the least you could do was listen. Although this definitely wasn’t helpful in the ‘clearing my mind from Abby’ department.

"This thing just doesn’t want to cooperate; it’s been a real pain in the ass.”

“Can’t get home in that, huh?” You asked rhetorically.

"Not unless I enjoy walking the five miles back home. And trust me, no one wants to see me do that after a day’s work.” She gave the stubborn vehicle a light kick with her hard boot. Frustrated to hell.

“Need me to drive you? I don’t mind…” “I can’t sleep anyway, car ride might help” You sighed and honestly hoped she would accept the offer. More chit-chat would be nice, especially if she insisted on not leaving your brain while you tried to rest.

"You'd really do that for me?" Abby looked up at you, a mix of surprise and gratefulness in her eyes. She asked, clearly caught off guard by your offer. A moment of pause filled the air as she seemed to think over your offer. Then, a warm smile spread across her face."Ah, I suppose that wouldn’t hurt. I think I’ve hit a stalemate with this thing anyway."

You felt a rush of excitement goosebump your skin. Relax; she just wants to get home.

Small talk filled the air. She followed you down the familiar path towards the garage, her heavy work boots grinding against the gravel. As you both entered the garage, the silence of the night was briefly interrupted by the soft clicks and whirs of various machines and tools. Abby slumped back into the truck's passenger seat, her exhaustion showing on her face. Eyelids heavy.

She gave you directions as you navigated through the dark country roads, passing over gravel and occasionally potholes. The ride was mostly silent, save for the hum of the truck’s engine and your occasional question to confirm the right way. You couldn’t help but feel soothed by her small hum, another small habit you’d noticed.

As the vehicle crested a small hill, you approached a cozy, yet modest cottage with a few other outlying buildings. Soft yellow light spilled from the windows, casting a warm glow over the property.

"Thanks, for driving me…really."

Abby unbuckled her seatbelt, preparing to get out of the truck. A small zip followed. She placed a hand on the black door handle before pausing, turning back to you. "Hey…You sure you’ll be alright getting home this late? Don’t want you to get jumped by a badger or some other wild animal.”

“Oh? I can handle myself, thank you” you laughed. Abby chuckled, a hint of a smirk on her face.

"I don't doubt that. Just…promise me you’ll lock your doors, alright? And no more walks in the middle of the night." She teased, one boot hanging out the door.

“Only if you promise to look over your shoulder more,” you joked back since she clearly startled easily. Abby rolled her eyes; a huffed laugh followed.

"Oh, so I’m being lectured on safety now, huh? Is that what this is?" She placed a hand on her hip, looking you over with curiosity.

“Just dishing it back out is all.”

"Mhm, always gotta get the last word, hm?"

She chuckled, a flicker of challenge in her eyes. "Alright, fair enough. I’ll look over my shoulder, and you stay out of the fields after dark. Deal?"

“Deal.” You had to feel those hands, so you said, “We shaking on it?” Abby glanced down at your offered hand, a smirk on her lips. She looked back up at you, that beautiful twinkle in her eye.

"Oh, you’re going for the old-fashioned handshake, huh? Sure, I’m in." She placed her greasy hand in yours, giving it a firm squeeze.

The handshake was solid, sending a small tingle down your arm. Abby laughed, a soft, genuine sound that made the corners of her eyes crinkle. She slowly released your hand.

"Goodnight. Get back safe, ya hear?"

She stepped out of the truck, waving goodbye. The porch light flickered on as she disappeared into the cottage, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

The drive home was a mix of silence and the hum of the engine, your mind wandering back to the encounter. You thought about the way she laughed, how her hand felt in yours. Strong but gentle. You felt a little silly getting all worked up over a simple handshake, but you couldn’t help it.

For some reason she had gotten under your skin in the best way possible.

Four: Shear luck ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Early march on the farm,

The days were getting longer, the nights shorter. The temperature had turned milder, and flowers were beginning to bloom.

A warm breeze carried the scent of spring through the air. You found yourself eagerly watching the tulips bud and blossom, their green stems giving way to red and orange petals, bees already hovering over them like supper

With the warmer weather, it was time to get down on your knees and shear the sheep. You knew you’d be blowing white hair out of your nose for a week after each session. The slight itch of stray strands clinging to your skin wasn’t exactly fun, but seeing the sheep happily bouncing around afterward always made it worth it.

The night she’d let you drive her home rushed back into your mind. The twitch of a smile that ghosted Abby’s lips when you held out your hand to her. The small head tilt she did when she was taken aback by something you said or deep in thought. For a moment, your heart was still racing, but as the sleepy haze faded, you took a deep breath and sat completely up.

Yes, there were other farmhands who would do it, but you’d been subconsciously waking up earlier in the past few days. Why not get a head start?

Oh lord, now you were starting your day thinking about her?

You groaned into the air and rubbed your heavy eyelids. Why on earth was this affecting you so much? She was just a farmhand. And an attractive one, sure, but you’d met attractive people before. So why was she different?

With a huff, you threw off the covers and got up, determined to get your mind off her. With Papa's truck running sweetly, you felt relief breeze over. That meant no Abby for a while. Plenty of time to sort yourself and these lingering thoughts out. You were going to straighten them like an iron to a wrinkly shirt.

You had a farm to help run. Plenty of things to keep your mind from wandering to her.

Trucking your way down the path to the sheep’s pen, a metal bucket of supplies swinging with each step. You enjoyed the soft hum of the razor when carefully peeling layers of wool off the sheep, like an onion.

White hairs flew in the air, blowing away some others stuck to your clothes. The pink-white face of the sheep, known to be a bit more stubborn, rested on your thigh as you carefully shaved back a layer of wool. Revealing the pinkish-white skin underneath.

The hum had died out, indicating a piece had gotten stuck inside the blade. No big deal; you always carefully removed it and continued on your merry way to finish the job. But today, when you turned your back to the ewe lamb, she’d curiously wandered off.

As she disappeared from your line of sight, you continued to get the blade up and running again. She wasn’t going anywhere; she was enclosed.

When the buzz finally returned, you sighed with relief. Then you laughed to yourself thinking about how if this was Papaw, he’d probably call Miss ‘Fix-It’ to come to his rescue. You’d swear if that man wasn't married, he’d keep Abby for himself. She was useful and dependable, though, at least that’s what he said.

Then horror washed over your face.

The small sheep was wiggling her way through the crack of the not-fully-pushed-in gate.

“Oh no, no, no!”

You quickly shot up and tried to make your way over in a calm manner to freak it out or encourage it to run. The sound of its feet pushing past the wood, causing your heart rate to shoot up higher.

You slowly bent down, hand hovering over its leg, when damn it, it saw you and forced its way through completely. The small half-shaved creature was now roaming out the pen.

You felt like a fool, shooting for the stars before you were fully awake; now you’d let a sheep loose. Great.

It had been around thirty minutes of chasing around the woolly troublemaker. She’s disappeared from your field of vision.

You cursed to yourself. Head hung down, catching the muddied reflection on the tops of your boots. A pout smacked onto your face, ugh.

You wiped your brow of sweat and defeatedly pushed off the oak tree you’d been resting on.

Clover would round up the lamb; you wished you would’ve remembered that before you ran around like a chicken with her head cut off.

Legs sore, out of breath, and hair stuck to you in places you’d rather it not be.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The sound was growing louder behind you, and you tiredly turned to face the individual behind you.

It felt like a prayer had been answered; there she was! Happy as can be, like you hadn’t been losing your mind all morning. Then following the rope up to the hand holding it.

Abby, that ghosted smile on her lips.

“Missin’ Something?” She teased, nodding towards the little sheep.

“Oh, thank heavens! Where’d you find her?”

You took the lead from her calloused hands, keeping your cool at the slight brush of fingers.

“She wandered all the way down to the edge of my place. Looks like you are having a day, huh?” Abby chuckles, leaning her hands on her hips. boots scuffed, sleeves rolled up, and that small smirk that makes your heart stutter a little.

“A day? Please,” you brush off, embarrassed.

“Sureee,” Abby drawls out, biting back another laugh. “Just racing a lamp for fun? Gotta try it sometime then.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” you murmured out.

“No problem,” Abby replies, patting your shoulder a tad firmer than she probably realized. “Next time, maybe try not letting’ her outsmart you, huh?”

Abby chuckled under her breath before tipping her hat, heading back to her land. You sat there, watching her figure grow smaller with the distance.

You sighed deeply and turned on your heels, taking a moment to look over your shoulder and feeling a small flutter as you saw her head turn back as if she’d done the same.

“What a morning,” you huffed, boots carrying yourself back to the pen. Double-checking the lock.

How embarrassing

Five: Held up in the rain ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You weren’t sure if you were just more aware of her presence or if she’d actually been around more these past few days. Nonetheless, the small sway of her brown hair and the sound of her work boots against the ground became a familiar occurrence.

One you didn’t mind one bit.

But last Wednesday is still stuck in the back of your mind. You were down with a small cold, so soup and a lazy day were your savior. You got up to stretch, bones cracking with an oddly satisfying sound. The room feeling a bit stuffy, you went over to open the window above your desk, but the figure a few feet below made your hands pause. Abby, miss handywoman herself.

You wondered what she was doing here so early, but instead of calling out, you took a few moments to admire and be nosy. She’d been out chatting with another farmhand; she seemed familiar with the man. Owen had helped you around the land a few times with projects that required more than just you. Eh, you thought. You turned your heel to return to bed when he snaked his arm around her shoulder, and she didn’t even flinch.

The hell.

He was okay looking, you supposed, but you couldn’t help but feel sick at the sight. It was a harmless gesture, hopefully... yeah, No way they were a thing. Oh, wow, you were getting territorial over her. You pinched the bridge of your nose, embarrassed.

Sure you two hadn’t outright flirted, but it couldn’t have been in your head, right??

Or were you just borderline pining for her?

It was too early to ask such questions; she’d think you were nuts. Correction, More nuts since she’d seen you chasing around that escaped lamb.

You tried to shake off last Wednesday, but you couldn’t help the small twist in your gut at how comfortable he looked. Probably just a friendly gesture; relax.

The following few days the skies had been a bit cloudy but still warm with a small cast of sun peeking down. That same fence the lamb escaped from was found to be broken. It definitely made me feel less embarrassed, but what didn’t is Nana asking you to call Abby on the house phone to see if she could come fix it.

Talking to her on the phone made you uneasy for some reason. You took a deep breath and pressed the grey buttons with the number she’d had written down on our fridge.

‘Always down the road if you need me xxx-xx—Anderson’

The small heart she drew next to it was cute, soft. She really was just a woman underneath all that grit.The sound of a soft sigh and click made you rock on your heels a bit. Holding the phone close to the shell of your ear.

“Hello?” She said, sounding like she had just gotten up.

“Heya, Abby, did I wake you?” You asked sympathetically.

You jumped at the sound of her clearing her throat and rustling on the other line. Almost like she had just suddenly sat up straight.

“Hey! No, I’m up…I’m up; what’s going on?”

Her voice much clearer now.

You twisted the red cord of the house phone talking to her. Explaining the situation and seeing if she was free. She wasn’t at the moment but said she’d be over in an hour or so. You thanked her and said goodbye, letting her hang up first.

A beat of soft breathing passed, then she spoke up.

“Alrighty then, see you…”

Was this awkward that you both had said bye and yet neither one of you had hung up yet… or confirming your thoughts of the past few weeks not just being ‘nothing.’.

You laughed awkwardly and eventually clicked the phone to hang up.

As much as your mind was jumbled mess, it would be nice to see her face. Nana was teasing but said she’d brought by a box of tissues for you. How sweet, driving five miles just for that. You were lost in thought thinking about all these unspoken moments happening between you and the all mighty miss ‘fix-it’

You didn’t even notice how crazy you must’ve looked, hand still on the phone, giggling to yourself.

You pulled yourself together and straightened up. You still have chores to do yourself; maybe you could see the sleep last so you could see Abby for a bit while she worked. To thank her for the tissues, nothing more.

The afternoon had grown a grey color, a small shadow of clouds falling down. You being much too distracted with doing other things hasn’t noticed the sudden stillness of the wind.

You’d been mid small talk with Abby, watching her nail a few things in place when you felt a droplet on your shoulder. The cold sensation caught you off guard, but Abby asking you to hold a nail still snapped you out of it. The closeness to her definitely made your heart speed up a bit. You could count the freckles on her cheeks if you wanted, but you focused on helping her.

“Just hold that still for me,” she asked.

You nodded and let her finish up with your minor help when the first crack of thunder rolled past.

The next thing you two know, Abby's hat brim was filling with rainwater. The heavy downpour wasn’t sudden, but you’d been too distracted to notice. Great.

“Damn it to hell—come on!” You weren’t sure if you were impressed or startled by the firm grip she had on your wrist, pulling you to your feet. Dropping the nails you had in hand. You both retreated to the nearby barn.

With heavy breathing, you leaned against a wooden beam. Clothes soaked and sticking to you, uncomfortably.

“You alright?” You asked her, glancing over to her shaking off her hat.

“Yeah, just drenched,” she replied, gesturing to herself.

“You and you both,” you laughed and looked away from her tee that was definitely a little more see-through with the rain soaked into it, whew.

When the rain began to ease and Abby moved to check outside, you blurted out, “Thanks, by the way.”

“…For what?” She glanced back at you, brows lifted slightly, with that cute head tilt.

“Oh, uh, the tissues. That was… thoughtful of you.”

“Didn’t think it was a big deal. You needed them, so…” Abby’s lips twitched into the faintest smile, and she gave a small, nonchalant shrug.

“Well, it was sweet,” you said quickly, feeling a little flustered as her gaze lingered on you.

Her smile grew, though she didn’t say anything else. Instead she turned to stop herself from the smile growing further. She opened the barn door just enough to peek outside, gesturing for you to follow as the drizzle began to slow.When you got back to the house, Nana was in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove. She turned to greet you with a knowing look. “Storm catch y’all off guard?”

“Sure did,” you muttered, setting your muddy boots by the door.

Abby offered a polite nod. “Rain came out of nowhere, but we got everything squared away.”

Nana’s eyes flicked between you and Abby, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Well, it’s good to have help around. Lord knows she can’t do it all herself,” she said, nudging you lightly.

“Don’t I know it,” Abby teased, her voice playful. Shooting you a small wink, then back to your grandmother.

Before you could retort, Papaw’s voice called from the living room. “She can handle herself just fine. Ain’t that right, girl?”

You winced at his tone, a little sharper than usual. Clearly not a fan of the insinuation. Nana shot you a look that said, Don’t start anything, before turning back to her pot.

“Well, we’re grateful for the help anyway,” she said, her voice light but pointed.

“I should get going. Thanks for letting me dry off here.” Abby seemed to pick up on the subtle tension, clearing her throat as she glanced toward the door.

Six: Hands on, Hands off ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

This morning the air was unmistakably thick with the smell of damp earth, the last traces of last night’s rain still clinging to the fields of the land. Your yellow rubber boots carried you as your mind was elsewhere. The sound of dry skin rang out as you rubbed your hands together, trying to push away the stiffness in your fingers as you made your way toward the barn. Today was supposed to be like any other, with chores, routine, and keeping yourself busy.

And yet, all you could think about was the lingering weight of yesterday. The phone call. The way neither of you had hung up right away. The distaste in Papaw’s voice. And, of course, her.

You shook your head, setting your shoulders. Enough of that. Enough of this damn near yearning. If you can even call it that. I mean what was going on? It was starting to irritate you if anything.

A silky voice cut through your thoughts. Low, familiar.

“You always look this serious, or is that just for me?”

You jumped at the sudden voice and turned to meet it. Abby, wiping her forehead with the hem of her shirt. Giving you a clear view of her midriff, Jesus. You quickly picked your eyes up before she glanced back up to meet your gaze. Just for her? Okay, she’s just teasing now.

“Pfft, just you,” you chuckled.

A thoughtful hum came from her, almost like she was approving of your answer. Things had been a little…awkward since the storm. You had been cutting conversations shorter, needing to get a grip on this schoolgirl crush. You are grown, damn it! Plus you aren’t even sure what all this could mean, too afraid to ask. Much too early to tell.

Since the storm, any worn wood had taken a hit during. Wobble here, loose there, a mess.

“Make yourself useful; they could use the extra hands,” Papaw said, newspaper in hand.

So you did. Adding yourself to the bodies scattered around the farm. A part of you enjoyed days like this; it could be a bit lonely when you weren’t in town or the loud city. Home is nice but too quiet at times. You’d been working at arm's length from her all day, and now you two had to work together. Great.

She was knelt beside you, the heat of her body mingled with yours. Working with the animals most days, you weren’t sure how to reinforce a fence with new nails without it looking like an arts and crafts project. Abby’s guidance was more than helpful; the slight praise when you did something right definitely made the nonexistent room you were in feel hotter.

“Here, grip it like this—yeah, just like that. You don’t want to hold it too tight, or you’ll throw yourself off balance.” Abby, when from hovering to standing close behind, occasionally reaching over to adjust your grip, her calloused hands settling over yours. Her voice is always in that low, steady tone.

“Loosen up a little—relax; I got you.”

Oh, she was killing you. Her chest almost grazing your back, head damn near on your shoulder. You weren’t sure if you wanted to run, scream, kick her away, or do all of them.

You kept your cool and let her show you what she needed to. Work still needed to be done regardless of how flustered you were feeling. The occasional brush of her tan kissed skin against your own made you feel a little dizzy.

A deep sigh fell out as you finally finished with the damn fence. After hammering into more than you can count, the two of you were standing by the barn, the scent of wet land still fresh in the air. Abby had a length of thick rope in her hands, casually twisting it between her fingers as she explained.

“Tying a good knot isn’t about forcing it—it’s about letting the rope do what it’s meant to. Feel it, don’t fight it,” she said, stepping closer. “Cmere, let me show you.”

She took your hands in hers, rough fingertips brushing against your palms as she guided them. You swallowed, focusing hard on the rope instead of the warmth of her touch.

“See? You keep hesitating right here,” Abby murmured, her voice low. She adjusted your grip, fingers pressing gently over yours. “Just let it loop through, like this.”

You nodded and listened the best you could. You weren’t sure if it was the knot-tying or the fact that Abby was this close—her breath warm against your skin, the faint smell of her shampoo lingering. This was that softer side of her you grew fond of. Gentle but firm when needed.

Then, footsteps crunched against the gravel path behind you. You felt a bit of relief for the distraction until you saw who the figure was. Sigh.

“Well, would you look at this,”

Owen’s voice cut through the moment, light and teasing. “Abby Anderson is giving hands-on lessons now? Thought you didn’t have the patience for that.”

Abby didn’t pull away immediately, but she did loosen her hold on your hands, stepping back just slightly. She glanced at Owen with an easy smirk. “Some people are worth the effort.”

Those familiar laughs that made it clear he and Abby had history, even if it wasn’t anything serious.

“Didn’t know you had a soft spot, Anderson,” Owen grinned, nudging her playfully.

Your stomach fell a little more than you should have. You didn’t have a right to feel jealous or anything of the sort, not really. But watching the way he leaned into her space, how comfortable he was with her, it sent a slow burn of irritation through your chest. Abby must’ve noticed, because when Owen finally left, she turned back to you, arms crossed, lips quirked in amusement. Those feelings from Wednesday were clear as day on your face. Abby studied you for a long moment before speaking. Her hand fixing the strap on your overalls before pulling back.

“Y’know, if looks could kill, Owen’d be a goner.”

Your face burned. “I wasn’t—”

“Mhm,” she hummed, not looking convinced. A slow smile tugged at her lips as she reached for the rope again, holding it out to you. “C’mon, Show me that knot one more time.”

You huffed a playful sigh and went back to focusing. You weren’t sure why his presence bugged you so much, or maybe you did? Regardless, she was free woman it was best you didn’t medal in business that wasn’t yours.

Seven: A Fair trade ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Summer was full of sweating through gray shirts, shaving until your skin was red, and, most importantly, the annual farmers market, the one event you actually looked forward to.

You grunted as you wiped sweat from your forehead, pushing up the wooden stand until it was at least semi-straight. It wasn’t perfect, but it would hold.

Nana and Papaw were already laying out our goods homemade wooden crafts, jars of preserves, and fresh fruit so ripe the juice would run down your chin. The market was alive with movement, packed with bodies and city folk gawking at non-artificially tainted foods like they’d stumbled into some mythical past. Pricing them way higher than needed but hey, you weren’t telling. You focused on setting out more things, but Papaw’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“Keep your head on straight,” he said, not even looking up as he arranged a line of jams.

You frowned, glancing at him. “Huh? I am.”

What was he on about, you prayed it had nothing to do with abby. He made a noise, something between a grunt and a sigh. 

“Mhm. Just saying’. Been seeing’ a lot of you ‘round Anderson, lately.” You rolled your eyes, irritation prickling at your skin hotter than the sun beating down. 

“And..? She’s helpin’ fix the fence. Y’know, the one that needed fixin’?”

Papaw didn’t push, but you caught the small shake of his head before you turned back to work, biting your tongue. This was family time, whatever he was sitting on could wait. You told yourself to relax, not to dig too deep. Not now.

Whatever his issue was, it wasn’t yours. Of course you’d been around the farmhand! She basically lives there, it’s not like you’d been going out of your way to see what she’s up. No, you’d only been offering her cold drinks and helping hands for efficiency purposes…yeah, totally that. You were in the middle of setting out more wooden trinkets when a smaller shadow fell over the stand.

“Are these yours?”

You looked up, expecting another customer, but instead, a boy..maybe sixteen or seventeen, stood there, holding up a small carved horse you’d made. His brown eyes were curious, fingers tracing over the details.

“Yeah,” you answered.  “You interested?”

Before he could respond, another voice, one much more familiar cut in from the next stall over.

“Didn’t think I’d see you peddlin’ your goods out here.”

There was that beautiful distraction, it was almost like you could feel when she was around. The wind would shift and goosebumps would run down your skin. Abby stood next to her own stand, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips. She was dressed the same way she always was worn jeans, a simple tee, hair braided back but something about her presence made the market feel a little smaller, a little warmer. That same softness.

“Gotta make a livin’ somehow,” you shot back, trying to ignore the way your pulse jumped.

Abby picked up one of your trinkets, turning it over in her hand. “You any good at this?” she asked, tossing the question toward the boy.  “Or am I going to regret buying?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” he replied, smirking like they shared some inside joke.

You narrowed your eyes, glancing between them. “You break it, you buy it.”

Abby’s smirk deepened, but she said nothing. Instead, she placed the trinket back down and leaned casually against her stand. For a few minutes, business went on as usual. people coming and going, picking through the goods, but you kept catching glimpses of Abby. And, more annoyingly, you weren’t the only one.

Someone stopped by her stand, a young woman, maybe mid-twenties, clearly interested in more than just whatever Abby was selling. You weren’t listening to their conversation, but you could hear the way Abby’s voice dipped into something easy, something familiar.

And for some reason, it made your stomach twist. She had nothing on you though…right? Oh Christ, stop it! There’s no need to put her down just because she’s near a woman who has her free will. Sigh. You went back to organizing jars with more force than necessary.

“…You get this weird look on your face whenever Abby talks to people. You know that, right?”

You stiffened, turning to see the boy, who was still hanging around. Watching you with clear amusement.

“I don’t— what—” you started, but he just raised an eyebrow. Nearby, Abby was still talking, but she had definitely heard. Embarrassment creeping in. That Heat crawled up your neck. You focused on your work, refusing to acknowledge either of them.

Eventually, the day wound down. Stalls started packing up, and you wiped your hands on your jeans, exhausted but satisfied.

Just as you were about to start loading things into the truck, Abby wandered over. She picked up one of the last jars of preserves and examined it like she was actually considering the purchase.

“Hey, you …Reckon this is a fair trade?” she asked, holding it up before swapping it with something from her own stand. You glanced at what she handed you—a small, well-crafted wooden charm, simple but sturdy, And oddly painted in your favorite color. She’d picked up on that? ..that’s sweet

Before you could respond, the boy—who had finally wandered back over—spoke up again.

“Oh yeah, Abby’s got a thing for homegrown stuff.”

You blinked. “Wait—you two are…?”

Abby, already stepping away, gave a lazy nod.

“He’s my kid brother.”

That threw you. Before you could piece together a response, she patted your shoulder.

“Guess I’ll be seein’ you around, farmer girl.”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving you standing there, jar in hand, heart pounding for reasons you weren’t quite ready to admit. Mixing with a bit of joy to know more about her.

Eight: A glimpse of truth ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The wooden charm hit the floor with a dull thud, but in your half-asleep state, you mistook it for the sound of your alarm and slammed the snooze button for the second time.

You’d earned a slow morning. With family visiting, you’d put in extra work the night before, making sure everything was in order so you could take your time getting up without guilt. No mud-streaked clothes, no sweat running down your back before noon—just a morning to yourself.

Sitting up, you yawned and stretched, running your fingers through the tangled fairy knots in your hair before grabbing a comb. Your eyes flickered toward your bedside table, where the wooden charm now rested.

You hadn’t spoken to Abby much since the market, not because you were avoiding her, but…well, maybe you were. Not on purpose, but the lingering weight of Papaw’s words settled heavy in your mind.

“Keep your head on straight.”

It was stupid. You knew it was. He loved you, always had. He was just…traditional. That’s all. It wasn’t a big deal. Right?

You exhaled through your nose, shaking the thought away as you pulled yourself together. No point in lingering on something you weren’t ready to unpack.

Downstairs, the house buzzed with conversation, the scent of fresh biscuits and coffee thick in the air. You stepped into the kitchen, immediately met with the sight of family gathered around, familiar faces and warm voices filling the space.

“Well, look who finally decided to wake up,” one of your aunts teased, arms crossed with a knowing smirk.

“Had to sleep in after all that work I did,” you shot back easily, stealing a biscuit off the counter before Nana could swat your hand away.

The chatter continued, questions flying back and forth, laughter filling the room. It was nice, this—family being around, the nosy teasing that came and went with love.

Then the godawful repeated question,

“So, you got yourself a boyfriend yet?”

The question landed casually, but it made your stomach twist. You hesitated just a second too long, biscuit halfway to your mouth. Papaw was at the table, flipping through a newspaper, seemingly uninterested in the conversation but you knew he was listening.

“Oh, leave her alone,” Nana’s voice cut in before you could figure out how to dodge the question. “She’ll tell us when there’s something worth telling.”

The tensions small it barely had time to settle was gone, just like that. The subject shifted, laughter picked up again, and you took a slow breath, shoulders easing. You glanced at Nana, but she wasn’t looking at you. Just kept on kneading dough like nothing had happened.

A short memory flickered, Nana shushing similar questions when you were younger, always deflecting when anyone pried too much about who you were interested in. Your chest tightened, warmth curling behind your ribs. She knew. She’d always known. And she didn’t see you any differently.

The day passed lazily, family filling the house, conversation and meals stretching long into the afternoon. You didn’t think about Abby..not too much, anyway but as you stood near the open window, watching the evening settle over the land, movement caught your eye. Down the gravel path, back covered in sweat, Abby walked with an tired sway, probably heading home for the day.

When The words left your mouth before you could think twice.

“Hard working or hardly working, Anderson?”Abby glanced up, shielding her eyes from the sun. Her smirk was immediate.

“I’ve done my work, you get back to lazing around!”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up. She was only joking. you both had rest days, and she knew damn well how hard you worked. Still, as she walked on, disappearing down the path, you found yourself staring at the empty space she was once in.

Laying down for the night, your fingers found that charm again.

Nine: Lovers’ quarrel ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Thanks again.” You said a little too quickly.

The words were clipped short, barely more than a breath, as you set down the box and turned to go. You didn’t look at Abby. You hadn’t looked at her much these past few weeks, not really. You honestly couldn’t. it wasn’t on purpose, that there was just too much going on. Family coming and going, chores piling up, Papaw’s watchful gaze always feeling a little heavier than before. That distaste on the tip of his tongue.

But that wasn’t the truth.

The truth was, you weren’t sure what to do with all the feelings tangled up inside you.

Jealousy sat at the pit of your stomach, strong and stupid. The way Abby laughed with Owen, the way she smiled easy at that lady at the market, Ugh. it had your chest twisting more than needed. And then there was Abby herself, with her ridiculous small touches, the teasing words, the way she’d smile when she knew she had your attention. She gave you crumbs. And you hated how you were basically starving for them. For her. So, you pulled away. Bit by bit. Maybe if you distanced yourself, you’d stop wanting.

But Abby, This Abby, wasn’t the type to let things slide. So, why were you surprised when she cut you off causing your heels to stop in their path with:

“Y’know…,” her voice came, casual but edged with something else, “if you’re gonna keep avoidin’ me, at least put some effort into it.”

You halted. Slowly, you turned back. She’d noticed, of course she did. You came to face a slightly tensed Abby. She was watching you, arms crossed over her chest, eyes lined with something unreadable.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” You lied right through the skin of your teeth, not wanting this conversation to take place. Not knowing what it would unlock, if anything.

“Yeah?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “C’mon, don’t do that.”

The heat rose to your face before you could stop it. you weren’t sure how to reply to her, so you choked up whatever came out first.

“Do what?” You knew exactly what. Feeling guilt climbing from somewhere you’d rather it not. She was pushing on a place she shouldn’t.

“Act like I’m just makin’ shit up.” Her brows pulled together, frustration creeping in. “You’ve been different. Ever since the market, maybe before that.”

“Ain’t nothin’ changed. Will you relax?” Your jaw clenched down.

“Bullshit!” Abby stepped closer, her presence all-consuming, and you hated how your pulse jumped at the nearness. “You don’t talk to me the same. Don’t look at me the same. Hell— I barely see you anymore unless it’s in passing.” She wasn’t wrong. And that made it worse. Your fingers curled into your palms, nails pressing into skin as the words slipped out, unfiltered and bitter.

“Maybe you should be talkin’ to someone else then, seems like you got plenty of options.”

The second it left your mouth, you regretted it. Abby’s expression shifted, something flickering behind her eyes before her head tilted. But it wasn’t that cute head tilt it was one of defense.

“What was that?” She asked, and boy Your stomach twisted.

“Nothin’.” “Dismiss that, I’m just talking out my ass”

“Nah.” Abby took another step forward, her voice softer now, but no less intense. “Go on.” You swallowed hard, unable to meet her gaze. You weren’t about to say it again. Weren’t about to admit what was really brewing, not if she wasn’t going to say Anything outright. Why should you?

So, instead, you shook your head and muttered, “Forget it.” A beat of silence stretched between you. Then Abby exhaled sharply, her frustration giving way to something else.

“Fine,” she said finally, voice cool, “it’s forgotten”

And just like that, she turned and walked away. You let the tension sit in your chest for the rest of the evening. It gnawed at you, made your skin itch.

So, that happened. Sigh, you found yourself at the stall with the newborn calves, feeding them in the quiet. Their little pink noses nudged at your hands, soft and warm, pulling a tired smile from you. Today— the past few weeks have been mental gymnastics. You just wanted a bit of solace. Hell, even a crumb would do. It was starting to pile up, weighing down.

The sound of footsteps made you roll your eyes so far you swear you saw your brain for a moment. Then, of course she wasn’t going to let the conversation end like that.

Abby wasn’t looking at you at first, just setting down a small sack of feed. Awkwardly putting her hands in gas’s stained jeans.

“Figured they could use some extra,” she muttered.

This wasn’t about the cows. She stayed still, waiting.

And maybe it was the way she’d come back instead of leaving things unfinished. Maybe it was the way she’d always been the one to reach out first, even when she was just as caught up in this mess as you were. But for the first time in weeks, you let yourself meet her halfway. Might as well, you sighed.

A truce

Your hand lifted, slow and hesitant, before brushing across the broad plane of her back. Just a light touch, the warmth of it lingering.

Abby stilled at first, then exhaled, shoulders dropping slightly as she let herself lean into it.

No words needed. Not yet.

As you dusted off your hands of feed and turned to leave the stall, you glanced at Abby over your shoulder, a teasing found in your voice.

“…Didn’t know me avoidin’ you bugged you that much.”

Abby scoffed, rolling her eyes, a hesitant pause fell. Letting you close up, taking one last look at the calf. Then, just as you were stepping away, she muttered, half under her breath but loud enough for you to catch.

“Yeah, well… guess I’m not used to wantin’ someone to stick around.”

By the time you turned back, she was already busying herself with heading back, like she hadn’t just said something that made your chest tighten. You wanted to call her back, make her repeat herself…but she clearly wasn’t ready to be more direct. we’re either one of you? Past small touches and jokes?

The questions stayed there, as you stared at that small charm on you bedside later that night.

Ten: A close call ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The house was tense. It had been for days now. You could feel it before you even reached the middle of the carpeted stairs, voices rising and falling in the kind of hushed argument that still carried enough weight to settle heavy in your chest. 

“She ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong,” Nana said, voice steady but edged with warning. 

“It isn’t right.”  Papaw’s voice was gruff, tired, but firm.

“Ain’t right by who, exactly?” Nana shot back.

You hesitated on the last step, fingers gripping the railing. you stayed put, not wanting to pull away..and not wanting to hear more. This was absurd. None of their business; you aren’t the same girl with beads in her hair and muddy sparkly rain boots . You were a woman with her own mind and wants. 

“She’s young. She doesn’t know what she wants yet.” He said, in a half-hushed tone.

“She knows just fine,” Nana snapped.  “And even if she didn’t, that isn’t for you to decide. You love that girl, don’t you?”

Papaw huffed. You could picture him standing there, arms crossed, jaw clenched, struggling to put his feelings into words. 

“Then act like it.” She sighed deeply, dissatisfied with her husband’s reaction to something of this manner.

But it was too much. The heat, the pressure in your chest, before you knew it, your shoes were hitting the wooden floor harder than intended as you stepped into view.

Their heads snapped toward you.

“I’m goin’ out.” Your voice was short, clipped. That same tone that had been stuck in your throat since it all had been building on your shoulder. You didn’t wait for a response before stepping out the door, letting the creaky screen slam behind you. Usually Nana would call after you to be more gentle with her doors, but not today. Not after what she knew you’d been hearing whispering of since that day you’d come in from the rain with Abby.

Papaw didn’t call after you. Maybe he knew better. Maybe he felt bad. Either way, you didn’t stop. You need a damn minute, just a second.

You weren’t sure where you were going until you were there. The stables smelled like hay and dust, the late afternoon light filtering through the gaps in the wood. It was quiet, save for the occasional snort from one of the horses. 

Good. You needed quiet. Finally, quiet.

Your hands still trembled slightly from the argument, so you busied them, grabbing a nearby brush, anything to keep yourself—your brain—occupied. How did this all come so quickly? You’d been nice and said hi to a woman who fixes shit, and now you felt like you’d been put under fire for it.

So caught up in your own thoughts and breathing You didn’t hear Abby approach at first, but the sound of her boots against the wooden floor made you tense.

“You got somethin’ against doors, or do you just like stormin’ off dramatically?”

You exhaled sharply, rolling your eyes, but didn’t look at her. “Not in the mood.”

She didn’t ask again. You were clearly having a day. She Just leaned against one of the stable posts, arms crossed, watching. For a while, neither of you spoke. Giving you a moment of needed silence 

You forced yourself to ignore her presence for once. for once in moment, you let the darkness of your eyelids in the world of your brain. Settle for just a beat. The sound of her adjusting her position on the wooden post didn’t even register until.

“Ouch!—Shit.”

Your head turned just in time to see Abby staring at her hand, a small splinter sticking out of her finger. There was again that gentleness beneath the carefully crafted stone wall of her outside. 

You didn’t even feel the frustration flow down your back like a stopped faucet. She just stood there, staring at her finger like she wasn’t sure how to help herself. If you weren’t so frustrated previously, you might’ve laughed, but instead, you stood up and took a few careful steps over to where she was standing to get a better look at her now very slightly wounded hand.

Abby sighed and began patting the pockets of her worn jeans for something to pull the splinter out. When she tensed at the sudden hold on her wrist. 

“Let me see,” you said blankly, still not in the mood but not wanting her to hurt herself further.

Abby rolled her eyes but extended her hand anyway, palm up. You stepped closer, taking her calloused fingers carefully in your own. The splinter wasn’t deep, but you took your time anyway—digging it out slowly, dragging your fingertips along her skin just enough to be annoying.

“There,” you said, once it was free.  “Think you’ll live.”

She huffed a soft laugh when you made a joke about you fixing something for her for a change, feeling a little bit apologetic for your dismissal of her earlier. She was trying to check on you, and you had been a bit mean. Abby shaking her head, but when the laughter faded, she didn’t pull away from you. Letting her arm stay in your hand. 

Instead, she just… looked at you.

It was subtle at first. The way her gaze flickered, just briefly, downward. You caught it. Your heart kicked up.

It would’ve been easy to ignore. To brush it off as nothing, keep things light. But instead, you took the risk. Going against better judgment, you repeated the eye movement.

Your gaze dropped—to her lips, then back up.

Abby noticed. You saw it in the way her lips parted slightly, as if she might say something…but she didn’t. You recognize this silence, the way both of your breathing picked up. This was exactly like the day you called her. She didn’t want to hang up; she told you she’d be there in an hour, and she still didn’t move her fingers to the gray buttons to hang up her own house phone after the conversation had already faded into nothing but the same silence that was washing over right now.

The barn suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker. Neither of you moved; neither of you spoke.

And then, Abby shifted. Just enough to snap the moment, clearing her throat as she pulled her hand away.

“Y’know,” she muttered, stuffing her hands into her pockets, “if you were really worried about me, you’d kiss it better.”

It was a joke. Obviously. But her voice wasn’t as confident as usual, a slight rasp in the words that made your stomach twist.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you turned away, but you couldn’t hide the heat creeping up your neck. Instead, you told her to stay put while you grabbed a Band-Aid for her hand just until the small break in her skin of the finger healed.

Final: Kissing it better ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Supper in mid-April was warm, filling, and laced with the kind of easy conversation that only happened when things were settling into place. Nana and Papaw had their moments, but there was no thick tension, no sharp words. Just the clatter of dishes, the low hum of the radio, and the occasional chuckle between bites.

You could feel the shift—subtle, but there. Even in Papaw, who had spent the past few months stiffening at the mere thought of you and Abby being something. Now, his comments were still gruff, but there was something softer underneath, something close to acceptance. Nana, of course, had caught on well before him. She never said it outright, but the glint in her eye when she glanced between you and Abby made it obvious. Especially when she passed you a dish towel with a knowing little smile. 

“Figure you two can handle clean-up.”

So here you were, sleeves pushed up, fingers dipped under the warm, soapy water, while Abby stood beside you, drying the plates you passed her. Her hair was styled differently today, hm. You glanced down at her face and spoke.

“You’re awful quiet,” you teased, bumping her hip lightly.  “Suds got your tongue?”

Abby huffed, giving you a sideways glance. “You Just focus on not breakin’ a plate.”

You gasped at her comment. Putting on some bariatrics to get her to crack a smile. That smile you loved. The one complimented with the pink of her gums. “I’ll have you know, I’m very delicate.”

Abby hummed, clearly unconvinced. But before she could respond, you flicked a bit of water at her. She blinked as the droplets hit her cheek, then slowly turned to you, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, you’re really funny, huh?”

“Hilarious, actually.” You bite your bottom lip to not laugh. Trying to hold composure.

A second later, her hand was in the sink, long fingers sending a splash of water in your direction. The sound of splashing water echoed through the kitchen as you and her turned the simple task of dishwashing into a soak city. The first flick of water from your hand was a quiet challenge, a warning. But she was quick, her hand moving faster than you expected, sending a spray of water in your direction.

You laughed, barely managing to avoid the worst of it. “Oh, it’s on now,” you said, wiping the droplets from your cheek.

Abby’s eyes lit up, and before you could react, she’d dunked her hands into the soapy water, splashing you again. This time, it soaked the front of your shirt. Dripping down the fabric.

“Abby!” You shrieked, laughing as you swatted at her the next few minutes were chaos—water flying, dish towels being used as weak shields, your laughter mixing with hers as you both tried and failed to keep the mess to a minimum. When the counter was a disaster and your shirts were damp, Abby’s grey shirt now darkened to a new shade. You finally called a truce, breathless and with light smiles.

“Reckon Nana set us up,” Abby muttered, shaking her head as she wrung out the dish towel.

“I ‘reckon’ you’re right.” You quipped back. 

She chuckled, then nudged your shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here before we get wrangled into sweeping’ too.” She whispered into the hollow of your ear, lips grazing the skin. 

The night air was crisp but not cold, wrapping around you both as you sat in the open trunk of Abby’s pickup. You meant to check in with her when it broke down the first time, but she clearly has it running again, so no need to mention it. You turned your gaze to the sky stretched wide above, dotted with stars, the occasional chirp of crickets filling the silence.

You absentmindedly traced the wooden charm between your fingers on your keychain, the one Abby had given you weeks ago.

“How’s your brother?” you asked, glancing over. 

Abby smiled slightly. “He’s good. Annoying as hell, but good.” She seemed pleased that you were asking more about her family and life outside of being Miss Fix-It.  You smirked, nodding before twirling the charm between your fingers again. When one of two questions you’d been wondering blurted out.

“…say, How’d you know my favorite color?”

She hesitated. Then, with a small huff, she leaned back on her palms, looking at you with a mix of amusement and embarrassment. 

“I mean, You always wear somethin’ of that color. Your curtains are the same too. Wasn’t that hard to figure out?

She said it like it was obvious, like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was. The thought of her noticing…really noticing. made something warm bloom in your chest. Like a tulip in the springtime. You chuckled, shaking your head. 

“Guess I’ll have to switch things up, keep you on your toes.”

Abby snorted. “Like hell you will.”

For a while, you both sat there, the quiet stretching comfortably between you. Abby’s gaze dropped briefly, and when you followed it, you saw where her focus had landed—her bandaged finger, the one she’d gotten a splinter in back at the stable. The stable, when you caught her looking at your slightly pouted lips. 

“How’s that healing?” 

“Pfft, just fine. Basically a paper cut…Thank you for checking, though. There goes that second one. You had to ask; the worst she could say was no or laugh it off, right? 

“You still want me to kiss it better?” You pointed to her hand, then looked back to her face. The words rung out into the small distance of your bodies.

The space between you felt charged, thick with something neither of you had been able to name for months. The teasing had always been there, the lingering touches, the glances that lasted just a little too long. But this? This was different. This was an open door, an invitation waiting to be accepted. Abby’s head tilted—just slightly, that same motion you’d caught onto since the start. Her eyes flickered up to meet yours, holding steady, searching.

She exhaled softly, her lips parting like she was about to say something, but no words came. Instead, her fingers twitched against the truck bed, like she was waging some internal battle. And then—

She moved. 

Slow, hesitant at first, like she was giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn’t. You wouldn’t.

Her calloused fingers found the back of your neck, warm and careful, her thumb barely brushing the edge of your jaw. There was a second just one where she hesitated, where her breath stuttered slightly like she couldn’t believe she was finally doing this. And then, the months of waiting, of tension thick enough to cut with a knife, finally took over.

Abby pulled you in, her grip firm but still giving you the choice, the chance to stop her. But you weren’t going anywhere.

Her lips met yours, slow and searching, like she was memorizing the way you felt against her. You sighed into the kiss, hands finding the rough fabric of her shirt, fisting it slightly like you needed something to ground you. She responded in kind, her fingers tightening against your skin, pulling you just a little closer.

When you finally broke apart, your foreheads nearly touched, both of you breathing a little heavier than before. Abby let out a short, breathless laugh, almost like she couldn’t believe she’d actually done it. Months of waiting, months of ups and downs, months of wanting to close that gap.

Her gaze flickered to her finger, still wrapped in its makeshift bandage, then back to you,

“Much better,” she murmured.

Time seemed to still as that weight that had been pressing on your chest for months, thick, unspoken, and suffocating…seemed to melt away the second Abby’s lips met yours. It was like exhaling after holding your breath for too long, like finally stretching out sore muscles after a long day’s work. The tension, the wondering, the stolen glances that never felt like enough, all of it moved to replaced by something …warm and steady. Relief. Certainty.

It wasn’t just the kiss, it was the knowing. Knowing that you hadn’t imagined it, that she’d felt it too. That you hadn’t been foolish for wanting, for hoping. It settled in your chest like a quiet reassurance, like something that had always been meant to happen,

…Just waiting for the right moment.

Ty for reading babes! 💐 whew

Want another long read? (Click)

[callsign-rogueone]

i know you've been busy so no sweat.

but i'd love a fix with one of the older boys where reader has just been getting their ass beat. In challenges, at battle brief. they just can't seem to get out of the slump. comfort fic? can also be angsty/smutty whatever but I just want some love y'feel?

🏷️: a day (several months) late, and a dollar short (under 1k) but here you go! I went with Gare for this one. fem reader who has a period, and hair that could be put in a clip (not specified what kind). garrick is a tease even (especially) with his girl. one semi major spoiler for fourth wing, but none for IF or OS.

Garrick isn’t surprised at all when you climb right into his lap and hide your face in his neck, letting out a soft whine that he knows means “I don’t feel good, pay attention to me.” It’s about to be that time of the month for you, and judging by your choice of attire — plain, dark colored underwear and one of his giant shirts — you’re feeling crappy, and you’re ready to go to bed early tonight.

He rests a hand on your back, the other moving to squeeze your hip. “Hi there. That time again?”

You give him a soft hum in reply, settling down against the plush muscle.

“I’m sorry, angel. Nature’s a bitch.”

“S’ not fair,” you mumble. “Jus’ cause I didn’t feel like having a baby this month, I gotta bleed n’ cry for five days.”

You can hear the slick grin in his voice as he replies. “Well, if you ever do feel like it, you know who to ask.”

You raise your head to glare at him, feeling a laugh rumble through his chest. “Not the time.”

“Okay, okay. What can I do to make you feel better, hm?”

“Just wanna stay like this,” you say softly.

“Alright.” His hands slide up your back, roughened palms stroking up and down, up and down. “How was your week? I didn’t see you much.”

“Awful,” you mumble. “I overslept on Tuesday and was late to Battle Brief, and got so much shit for it from my squad leader.”

“Dennis? What a fucking tool.”

“Messed up my ankle in challenges on Thursday, and I’m drowning in work for Kaori’s, because I missed two lectures last week.”

“At least you’re not sick anymore,” he offers. “I don’t have to worry about you sneezing on me again.”

Your cheeks warm in embarrassment. “That was a one time thing! And we agreed to never speak of it again.”

“I didn’t agree to shit,” he defends, “but please continue — I feel like you were building up to something there.”

“I was,” you mumble, quieting. “I lost my favorite hair clip.”

“Which one? The one that’s shaped like a flower?”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know you were the one who gave it to me — I shouldn’t have been so careless with it. I’m sorry.”

He takes one hand off your back, reaching for something. You hear the soft slide of a drawer opening and closing, turning your head to see it in his hand. “You left it here on Sunday, when you slept over. I held onto it in case you wanted to use it when you’re here — I know you don’t like having your hair in your face when you’re studying.”

You squeeze him a little tighter, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” you announce, settling back against his chest contentedly.

“I know.”

You whine, pouting up at him.

“If you gave me a second, I was gonna say that I love you too, and I was going to suggest that we go to bed early.”

“You don’t have watch tonight?”

He hums. “Xaden does, which means he’s gonna be in a mood tomorrow morning.”

“He’s been… different lately,” you say quietly, chewing your lip. “I’m worried about him.”

“I think he’s got a crush on the little Sorrengail in Callwell’s squad.”

“She’s really pretty,” you admit, “but what about Cat?”

“We both know he never loved Cat. And this… this is different. I can’t explain it, but it is.”

“He deserves someone to be happy with. But can he really get past who her mother is, and what she did to him? To all of us?”

“We got past it for Brennan.”

“I guess so.”

He pats your hip. “Alright. Let me go shower, and then you’ve got me for the next twelve hours.”

You cast a glance at the clock on his desk, doing the math. “You aren’t going to the gym tomorrow morning?”

“Nah. I’d rather stay in and take care of my girl.”

[flippinpancakes64]

Hello, I absolutely love your work. iv re read your stuff so many times that it's getting concerning.

Can I request the cullens x artist reader who made a painting of them I just think that would be cute

The Cullens with an Artist! Reader

Thank you?!?! I suggest seeking mental help for rereading my bad stories tho

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

We all know that he is an artist too

He made Bella a whole song on the piano

As someone who can play the piano, that’s not easy

So he definitely loves that you’re also artistic

For you, he’s a muse

I mean, how could he not be

Literally the definition of perfect

So obvs you sketch him a lot

When he finds an almost finished painting one day of him, he is floored

He can never seem to wrap his mind around the fact that you are just as obsessed with him as he is with you

He hangs it up

Even if it’s not finished

If you insist on finishing it, he will begrudgingly take it down and give it back

But as soon as it’s done it’s all his

Alice:

She’s also an artist

But more with fashion

And design

She’s not so well-versed with the classical arts like painting or sketching

So she always loves seeing your paintings

She’s a coexistence girly

She loves to just be doing something while you’re painting

You know just sort of existing in the same space at the same time

The day you give her the painting, she is so surprised

It was so difficult for you to hide this from her

Especially with her gift

She absolutely loves it

She hangs it in the main room of the Cullen house

She wants absolutely everyone to see it and acknowledge how talented her s/o is

Jasper:

He loves the arts

They’re relaxing to him

Some of his favorite classes he’s ever taken in all of the schools they’ve been at have been art classes

He’s not good by any means, but he loves it anyway

Art dates with him are a must

He would love that tiktok trend where you and your partner trade paintings every couple of minutes

Never misses an opportunity to tell you that he loves your work

He honestly almost started crying when you showed him your painting of him

You made him look so happy, so peaceful

He’s used to being perceived as a monster

Definitely hangs it up

But only in his room

He wants to be the only one to see it

Rosalie:

She’s more of a technical, sciencey person

Not to say she doesn’t like art

Just that she doesn’t necessarily enjoy making it

She can definitely appreciate good work tho

And she loves everything you make

She buys you new supplies all of the time

If just one pen ran out of ink in your favorite set, she would buy you a whole new set

When you give her that first painting though, she’s obsessed

She wants at least 20 more by tomorrow

But actually, she knows that she’s beautiful

But something about the way you capture her is just so different she loves it

Emmett:

He’s not an art person either

He’s a bit of a meathead

But he can appreciate art

Probably not as deeply as other people can

But he know when it looks good

And he genuinely thinks you’re the best artist ever

He will gladly put all of your little doodles in the clear pockets of his binders

And hang them on his locker

When you give him the painting of him he’s actually dumbfounded

Like awestruck

What do you mean the best artist in the world just made a painting of him?

Get ready to be cuddled for the rest of the night

Esme:

Resident artist

We already knew that tho

I’m pretty sure it’s said that she’s the one who made the grad cap piece?

Idk

Either way she loves art

Pottery dates, painting picnics, date nights at the art museum

She loves it

So if you were to ever paint her and give it to her?

Yeah she’s gonna start crying

She just loves art, she loves you, and you put them together and she’s so in love

She hangs it in the main room

It doesn’t matter if the colors clash

And it’s never coming down

Carlisle:

Another appreciater of the arts

I mean, he probably knew Da Vinci on a personal level this guy is so old

So it’s no shock

Whenever he’s home and hanging out with you, he loves to watch you paint or draw

Especially if he’s doing some paperwork

I just feel like he would like the company while he’s working

Now I don’t see Carlisle as the type of guy to necessarily enjoy pictures or paintings of himself

The only portraits he has in his office are either him in a crowd or family photos

So when you give him a portrait of himself, he’s a little shocked at first

He doesn’t want to seem narcissistic, but damn you made him look good

He hangs it up in your shared bedroom

Even though he knows he will likely never have guests who would see it, he wants to make sure it’s hidden

He just doesn’t want people to think he’s vain

But he secretly loves it so much

Vampire! Bella:

I think I’ve talked about it before but this girl would have loved deviantart

Rip Bella you would have loved fan art of your favorite characters

But she totally had an artsy phase

I don’t think she’s necessarily good or bad

She just prefers to look at art rather than make it

So that’s where you come in

She loves just watching you work

Every once in a while she paints with you

But she always feels inferior when she looks at what you made vs what she made

So she usually just sticks to admiring

The first time you give her a portrait of herself, she doesn’t even know what to do

She’s still getting used to actually perceiving herself as beautiful

And then you capture her like she’s a goddess?

She needs to lie down

She loves it tho

[goodiegoddesselle]

my favorite pair | L. DH

pairing: enemy roommate!haechan x reader

genre: smut, sir/daddy dom, unprotected sex, degradation, pervert haechan lol, enemies to lovers, uses doll/toy as a nickname

summary: you see one day that your annoying roommate, haechan, hasn't done his laundry and just left his basket by the washing machine. sure, this is irritating, but it reminded you to do your own. when you finally start getting your own clothing, you notice that your favorite pair of underwear is missing. on top of noticing that, you notice that your roommate, who moves around the apartment a lot normally, hasn't left his room at all that day either.

wc: 3k

minors dni. dont like, dont read.

______________________________________________________

You were tired of him. Tired of the dishes constantly sitting in the sink. Tired of his friends constantly being piled up on the couch, like you didn’t live there too. Tired of all the noise from his gaming—finally, it truly occurred to you just how tired you were of your roommate Lee Haechan.

For the most part, he didn’t do much but sit around and annoy you, whether or not he actually did his chores. It was almost like he messed with you on purpose. Despite all of this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from still having a partially hidden crush on him.

Yes, sadly, you did have a crush on him. You did, but there’s only so much you can do about having a crush on someone that doesn’t really get along with you the way you truly would’ve liked. It was almost impossible not to, nonetheless, seeing as Haechan was one of the most gorgeous men out there. His hair was long, golden and wavy, his eyes glowed a glistening honey color, and his voice was sultry with the perfect tenor tone. And with the amount of talents this man had, there really wasn’t anything you couldn’t like him for.

Did Haechan know about this crush, though? Never in a million years. You figured you would die before he even came close to knowing about it, let alone actually knowing. Especially since he was so irritating to you, even at that moment.

“Ugh, can you actually do your damn chores Haechan? I would like to take a break too, y’know!” you called out. You were in your room, digging through your clothes after seeing his laundry basket lying next to the washing machine. You figured you might as well do the laundry anyway, since he wasn’t getting around to it and your clothing was beginning to pile up inside your room.

A deep sigh left you as you dug through your underwear and recognized that something was wrong. It was gone—your favorite pair of panties was missing, and oddly enough, this was the first time that has ever happened to you. Your eyebrows scrunched in complete confusion. Where the hell could they have possibly gone?

You searched a little further, peeking under your pillows and through the rest of the drawers until Haechan’s lack of movement started making you curious. Sure, he was annoying, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t another human, and he typically moved around the apartment a lot more than he was that day.

Immediately you turned around, walked out of your room, and headed to the bedroom next to yours. It wouldn’t take much to get in his room anyway, seeing as he was either playing a game or sleeping with all the grunting he was letting out.

At least, you thought so.

You simply knocked on his door twice before letting yourself in, ready to talk about his laundry until your eyes landed on your roommate, who rushed to pull his blanket over his completely nude body. The squat you would have to do to pick up your jaw would probably give you the strongest legs on Earth.

“Woah!” he yelled, his eyes wide as he scrambled to hide his hands under the blanket as well. “I, um—I was just, uh, I-I…”

“There’s no need to explain, Haechan,” you interrupted, a smirk slowly spreading across your face, “I already saw them. Really? That’s what you’ve been doing?” The laugh that left you made his face turn the hottest shade of red.

It wasn’t hard to see Haechan holding your favorite panties in his hand. For once, you weren’t angry about it either. It was, however, a teeny bit shocking instead. You didn’t know that he was like this at all, seeing as every time one of your pairs would go missing, you would find it somewhere in your room the day after. The whole time you just figured it was you making them disappear. At least, until now.

You walked a little closer to him, closing the door behind you and giggling lowly. “Lee Haechan, when were you ever going to tell me that you are the world's most hidden pervert?” you asked. It was like he was frozen in place, internally freaking out as you leaned in and ran your thumb across his chin, his breath completely silent. “Well? What are you going to say about all this?”

“You know what, I was going to find an excuse, but since you want the truth so bad…” Haechan sat up, suddenly grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from his chin while pulling you closer. Your eyes widened as he held up your underwear again. His lips rose into a cocky grin as he waved them back and forth, watching the annoyance cover your face all over again. “It’s one thing to want you this badly, y’know, but you make it really easy to come and get these. And if you want them back, babe, this time you’re going to have to work for it.”

You scoffed. “Work for it? When it belongs to me? Guess you’re always like this, huh?”

“Like what, Y/N?”

“So goddamn infuriating!” you answered, rolling your eyes. Haechan laughed and leaned closer and closer to you, all the way to the point where your lips were almost touching, but not quite yet.

“Do you know you only get hotter and hotter the angrier you get?” Haechan replied. “If you didn’t want me to be so ‘goddamn infuriating’, then stop being so goddamn hot.”

He closed the distance between you two, tilting his head and pressing his lips to yours. It took no time at all for you to respond to it. You kissed him back fervently and climbed further onto his lap, sliding your hands onto his shoulders and taking his words and actions as an invitation to fight back. It was hard to reject him, after all, especially after feeling his teeth graze against your bottom lip several times.

The feeling of Haechan’s arms wrapping around your hips brought you into a high you didn’t even know you could reach, only getting higher and higher as he leaned down to your neck, slowly leaving kisses and sucking marks onto your warm skin. Crowds of moans left your lips, making him bite even harder. Out of nowhere, he flipped the two of you over and shoved you onto his mattress.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks or how much I infuriate you, babe,” Haechan whispered into your ear, licking the shell of it, “you’re mine whether you like it or not.” He tossed the panties away from the bed and went back to leaving hot kisses on your lips and neck. But this time, you could feel his fingers sliding down your torso, all the way until he reached your pajama shorts and pushed under them. Another chuckle left him, and you could feel your face scorching from embarrassment, knowing damn well that he was laughing because you weren’t wearing anything under them. Your lips separated for a moment, but shut shortly after, shyness killing your effort to say something before he did. Haechan, however, already knew where you were headed with that.

“Oh? What, do you only wear your favorite ones?” Despite knowing it was a genuine question on his end, you really couldn’t find it in you to answer him. You even looked away, but that had no point, especially since he grabbed your jawline and immediately pulled your head back into facing him.

“Look at me when I speak to you, and don’t make me tell you again,” Haechan ordered. “You can use your words, doll. In fact, I’d like it better if you did.”

“Um, n-no, I don’t,” you stuttered back. Haechan’s gaze alone was intimidating you, which only made the situation ten times better than when it began. In fact, it got even better than that, right when his fingers started lazily rubbing at your cunt, slipping between your lips and toying with your clit. A loud groan filled the room the moment he began.

Haechan slid two of his fingers into you while keeping his eyes on yours. “For someone that loves talking about how annoying I am, you’re pretty wet right now. Soaked, even,” he teased, fingers massaging at your sweet spot gently. “It’s real cute.”

A frown crossed your face. You wanted so badly to say something back to that, but there wasn’t much to say back to the truth, really. However, as he picked up the speed of his fingers, the frown died within a few seconds, followed by his name being pulled out of you. Each second after, you could feel yourself getting closer to finishing, and you were completely ready for it—until he ripped his hand out of you. At first you were upset about it, but then you saw him licking your essense off of his fingers with an evil grin on his face, and that settled right away, being replaced with the need for him to put something much bigger back where his hand was.

Haechan pulled his fingers out of his mouth and chuckled, saying, “don’t think I can’t tell when you’re almost there; you made that face like you were ready to explode.”

Another pout crossed your face. “Then why didn’t you let me get there?” you asked. His face straightened out as he looked at you like you truly didn’t understand the situation you put yourself in at the moment. Again, he grabbed your chin and made you face him, his eyes flaring now instead of swirling with honey like usual.

“Did you really think I was just going to let you cum and we’d be done here? When you haven’t even thought about what you need to do for me too? Get up.” His hand slipped away as he climbed off of you, gesturing for you to rise up as well and take your shorts off. Despite being ordered to, another thought came to your mind and you figured things would definitely get different if you followed it. This time, a smirk crossed your face instead, and you crossed your arms.

“If you want me to get up, make me, then,” you baited, watching a look of surprise spread across his face before disappearing quickly. Before you could even see what he was planning to do, his hand shot across the bed like lightning and grasped your wrist again, startling you. Somehow you knew where this was headed for you.

“Last I checked, doll, I told you not to make me have to tell you again,” Haechan growled, ripping you off of the bed and in front of him, “but if you’re going to make me, you’re going to find out why I warned you to begin with. Shorts, off. Now.”

Completely filled with intimidation, you wasted no time in pulling your pajama shorts off this time, being completely nude from the waist down. Haechan’s gaze swept over you before he lifted your shirt up and leaned in, lips heading for your chest, right below your neck this time. He began leaving spots all over it, suckling onto your skin and heading lower and lower each time. You couldn’t help yourself from whining as he did it, grabbing at his shoulders again as your legs shook.

“H-Hae…” you mumbled, grip tightening around him. Haechan’s teeth grazed across your right breast before his head lifted. “Is there something my little toy wants?” he interrupted. With a tight throat, you simply nodded, hoping you could find it in you to answer him with words this time, but it didn’t take long for you to find out that those words wouldn’t matter either way. He lowered his head again and bit on your nipple, making you cry out into the room.

“Remember what I said earlier? Disrespectful playthings like you don’t get what they want either way,” Haechan said, sliding his hands under your thighs and lifting you up. “Learn how to act right next time and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

“Yes…” you moaned.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir…”

Haechan hummed in response and turned around, pinning you against the wall next to the door. “Now it’s my turn to play with my little toy,” he muttered. It didn’t take much time at all for you to feel it—the feeling of Haechan stretching you out with his size alone, making you wonder if you could even take someone as big as that. Your face froze with your mouth open, facing the ceiling in complete shock, your soul escaping your body more and more the deeper he got into you. Haechan himself let out a long, smooth moan as he pressed into you.

“God, I never knew you’d be this tight, Y/N,” he said, pulling out a little before thrusting himself back in roughly. “So, so good…” The two of you stayed still for a moment as he let you get used to his size. After a few moments, Haechan began again, pushing and pulling himself in and out of you at a slow pace at first.

“Sir,” you finally spoke, “can you speed up a little bit?”

“I will if you ask me nicely,” he responded, still moving slowly just to mess with you.

“Sir, please speed up,” you pleaded. Haechan leaned down and left a quick kiss on your neck before speeding up to a pace more hasty, more rough and harder to handle. Part of you regretted asking him to get faster, but most of you couldn’t even focus on that. You were enjoying the sensation of his cock hitting your sweet spot full force each time he slammed into you, your back pressing against the wall as he fucked you.

“Look at my pretty little doll, taking it like she should be,” Haechan teased, going harder and harder into you. At this point, you could barely handle what he was giving you, but every part of you wanted it. Needed it, even. You could even feel your orgasm coming toward you full speed, like a car on the highway at night. With how loud you were moaning, too, everything in you knew that he could tell as well.

“I’m so close,” you breathed, your arms tightening around his neck as your cunt tightened around him.

“Really? Is my doll already so close? How bad do you want it?” Haechan asked mockingly.

“So bad,” you replied, “really, really bad…”

“Yeah? Then beg for it.”

“Please, sir, please let me cum; I need this so badly…”

Haechan reached his hand down and began stroking at your clit. “Keep going, babe.”

“I’m so close, please let me cum, I’m begging! I-I’ve been doing good, please, I’ve been a good girl,” you continued pleading as a shock of what felt like lightning passed through you. If he didn’t decide now, you were going to release either way, and you didn’t want to disobey him all over again just to get another punishment.

“Hmm,” Haechan hummed decisively, almost jokingly. “You have been doing pretty well so far… I think you’ve earned it. You know what to do; cum for me, now.”

Immediately you released, his order cutting the tie for you. You were squeezing his cock as your juices leaked out, spreading all over him as he continued to thrust into you. It was amazing, but the overstimulation was starting to hit you not too long after.

“S-Sir, I can’t take this anymore,” you cried, legs weakening around his waist as he continued.

“Yes you can, doll,” Haechan responded, grunting lowly, “because good girls take what they’re given. And I’ve got something for you to take.”

Your nails were clawing into his skin at this point. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the intensity increased. You could feel another orgasm coming for you, and your whole body was ready to implode all over again. Haechan pressed his face into your neck again, taking a deep breath in before moaning at full volume, picking up speed as he pounded into you.

Not too long after, Haechan’s teeth sunk into your collarbone again as he moaned, “now take everything Daddy gives you.” Instantly, you were filled with more and more of his cum as he came, pushing you harder against the wall and leaning up to kiss you on your lips instead. The two of you made out even after he finished, even after both of you noticed that his release was starting to drip out of you, and even after you noticed you had also came while he was getting off. After a while, the two of you finally pulled away from each other, Haechan still carrying you but just not against the wall anymore.

Soon after, the high started fading away, replacing itself with a different level of nervousness. The reality that you just slept with your crush-slash-enemy hit you like a full-force train. At some point, you decided that since you already did all of this, you might as well just let him know anyway. “I just wanted to say, Haechan,” you began nervously, “that I do actually like you… I just didn’t really have a way to let you know, I guess…”

The nervousness began peaking when all Haechan did was watch you in silence while blinking. Then, out of nowhere, another gentle laugh escaped him. “You think I didn’t know that, Y/N? What did you think I bothered you so damn much for?”

“You what?” you gasped. “You fucking knew that already and didn’t ask me out or something like that instead?” He shrugged.

“Just wanted to play with my toy first. You should already know that you’re mine. I’m just glad everyone else gets to know now, too,” he said. 

You sighed. “You’re so freaking annoying.” Haechan leaned in right by your face again.

“Doesn’t matter; either way you’re mine. Aren’t you, doll?”

[marixrose]

♤𝐘𝐀𝐍!𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♧

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, Yandere thoughts & actions, bad writing

>> Headcanons <<

Yan!Tom Riddle followed you around Hogwarts like a dog since first year, he found you intriguing and he wanted to know every little thing there was to know about you.

Yan!Tom Riddle wrote in his diary about you, everything about you. Your favorite food, color, scent, class, etc. He had your birthday, a list of all your close friends, your schedule all at his disposal.

You were friends with Yan!Tom Riddle but were unaware with his obsession with you.

You were in the same year as Yan!Tom Riddle and were both in Slytherin house.

Yan!Tom Riddle sneaks little gifts for you either under/at your door, but he never writes his name so you don't know who the gifts are from.

Yan!Tom Riddle forces you to go to the Yule Ball with him, he doesn't take no for an answer.

Yan!Tom Riddle will privately talk to any boy/girl who he thinks will get in his way. He won't hesiatate to fight someone for looking at you. Some of them even end up missing, believed to have ran away. We all know they didn't.

Yan!Tom Riddle holds your hand, plays with your hair, and things like that- even when you two aren't "official".

Yan!Tom Riddle will ask you to be his girlfriend/boyfriend/partner on your 16th birthday, and believe me, there is no saying "no".

Yan!Tom Riddle once you two are officially together, he becomes more obessive. He has to know where you are, where you're going, who you're with, what time you'll be back. Sometimes (most times) he follows you and justifies is as "I was just trying to protect you."

Yan!Tom Riddle will give you necklace and rings that secretly have trackers and certain love smells to ensure you don't fall out of love with him, if you ever were truly in love with him is a mystery.

Once Yan!Tom Riddle notices you getting worried about his actions and you trying to escape, he hides you in the chamber of secrets and has you chained to the wall.

Yan!Tom Riddle only brings water and food once/twice a day. He makes sure to brings books and games to make sure his darling doesn't grow bored.

Yan!Tom Riddle places cures and spells on the chamber of secrets making it sound proof, and basically unfindable by anyone but him.

Yan!Tom Riddle knows he crazy, but he couldn't care less.

© Mariaxrose everything is written by me and should not be rewritten or sold

[thebabblingbrookenook]

Love To Hate You

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton has been your favorite rival since college. Nothing gets your blood pumping quite like getting under his skin. No matter how much you love to see him squirm, you hate the defeated look on his face at someone else's hands. You never thought you'd see the day when your only worthy opponent would become you're most exciting conquest.

Warnings: 18 & Older - Oral, Rough Sex, Degradation, Praise, Strong Language, Spanking

Word Count: 5.6k

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

Three days.

                That’s how long this merger had been at a standstill.  You’d spent the last 72 hours listening to a room full of grown men performing a metaphorical dick measuring. It was a miracle that your eyes weren’t permanently rolled to the back of your head.

                The only thing keeping you from telling your pompous asshole of a boss to swallow his pride and make a few concessions was the palpable irritation radiating off the man seated across from you at the conference table.

                Anthony Bridgerton.

                Since your college days, you had lived to needle this man. He wore every expression clear as day across his annoyingly handsome face. It was so easy to rile him up, and even more rewarding to spar with him when he came back at you with his sharp, alluring tongue. He had proven himself a worthy opponent – someone who was not only willing to play with you, but who was capable of leaving you a panting, sweaty mess under his designer shoe.

                The crease between his brow deepened with every idiotic word that left his associate’s arrogant mouth. Something about this man’s tone pissed you off. He spoke with the authority that Anthony was allowing him to possess, but it fit him just as poorly as that knock-off suit that stretched too tightly across his bulky shoulders. He would never wear that power like Anthony. Anthony earned his arrogance and wore it like the fucking king he was.

                This guy needed to be humbled in an embarrassingly public way. Bonus points for the emasculation he’d feel once you shredded his ego to a bloody pulp with the ace you were hiding up your sleeve. Not only would this shut up the blundering idiot still talking out of his ass, but it would also piss Anthony the fuck off. It wasn’t hard to imagine the shade of red the tips of his ears would turn as he tried to reign in his temper.

                Squeezing your thighs together under the table to suppress your arousal, you turned to your rival with a knowing smirk.

 “Bridgerton, I knew you were reckless, but I never thought you were sloppy. You’ve clearly taken your eye off your company if you’re letting Vickers here run unsupervised around your kingdom.”

                His shoulders stiffened in delicious frustration at the sound of your voice, but his lips turned up mischievously as he took you in.

“Careful, darling. Do you really want to play that game? I can assure you; my eyes see all.” The aforementioned eyes slid down to where your legs were pressing together in desperation beneath the table. “Every. Single. Detail.”

Fuck. Why did his voice have to be so hot?

Shake it off, bitch. Your pussy can get hers later. Right now, you need to focus on your takedown.

“Oh, is that so?” You smiled back at him, willing him to take the bait.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on your chest just a moment more than was polite.

“I’m a man of my word sweetheart. And control is my drug of choice.”

Oh, this was too good. He was about to lose his mind when you yanked away his high and sent him spiraling into a bad trip.

“So, you were aware that your associate signed contract amendments on your behalf? And if I had to guess, he didn’t read them fully because according to these documents… Anthony Bridgerton consented to the 40% increase over the first 12 months. And then an additional 20% based on profit margins.”

The color drained from his face as your words hit home. A chill ran down your spine at his utterly lethal expression. You were used to his irritation. Intimately familiar with his anger… but this was different.

You could feel it the moment the last shred of restraint left his body. His already dark eyes turned almost black when he fixed them on his target.

“Is this true, Luther?” His voice was deceptively calm, but you could sense the predator lurking beneath the surface.

“Of course not,” Luther lied. “Are you really going to believe this manipulative bitch over me? That’s what she does. Why do you think Morrison hired her firm for legal representation. She’s a lying cun- …”

“STOP TALKING!” Anthony roared. “Finish that sentence and I will shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting leather.”

The room was deafeningly quiet now. A rush of wetness flooded between your legs when Anthony turned his gaze to you, and you couldn’t stop the little gasp that escaped your lips. Anthony may have gotten his high from control, but you thrived on chaos. And this was the very definition of playing with fire.

“Contracts…” he said, thrusting his hand toward you in a demand.

Victory was all but dancing in your eyes as you slid the papers under his waiting fingertips. Checkmate. This round went to you,

After a diligent assessment of his forged signature, his fingers curled into fists, crumpling the paper in his grasp.

It would be easy to prove the signatures invalid, voiding the contract and rendering it moot. But God, was it worth it to bask in the absolute manic energy he was barely keeping contained.

That simply wouldn’t do. You wanted to see him erupt.

You were in the midst of your plan to stoke the flames when Luther all but did the work for you,

“She’s lying Anthony! Come on, mate. You know me!”

“I do know you,” Anthony deadpanned. “You’re the same conniving, slippery bastard you’ve always been. And we are most certainly not mates. Apparently, you’re also a moron! Do you honestly believe I can’t decipher between my own signature and a fraud? It’s right fucking here in bold black ink, you twat!”

Luther opened his mouth to argue like the true dunce he was, but Anthony silenced him with his glare alone. The danger in his slow, deep voice all but purred over my skin.

“Get. The fuck. Out of my sight.”

“You can’t just fire me! I helped you build this fucking company. You’re nothing without me, Bridgerton!”

“I can, and I just did.” His careful, composed mask was slipping back into place and you already missed his rage. “You’re done here Luther. There won’t be a single person in this industry willing to work with you after I’m through.”

Shoving back forcefully, Luther pushed up from his rolling chair and straight into the woman carrying a try full of coffee orders for the room. It all happened so fast and there was absolutely nothing anyone could do to stop it.

The tray flung from her hands, dumping its contents onto Anthony’s broad chest and waiting lap. He stood abruptly, cursing under his breath, hands frantically trying to shoo the scalding liquid from his body.

When the woman’s hands reached out to assist him, your entire body froze. She was touching him, and you fucking hated it. You were also unsure of how he would react to the blunder. Luther deserved his wrath, but this poor girl did not.

Your heart did something funny in your chest when he gently gripped the wrists of the panicked, trembling woman in front of him.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Bridgerton! It was an accident. Are you okay?!”

“Jeannine…” he soothed. “Jeannine, it’s okay. I’m perfectly fine. Maybe a little wet, but unharmed. So, there’s no need for tears.”

Ugh… Now she was looking at him like she’d just fallen in love with him. You mean, kind of like you were 30 seconds ago? Shut up, brain! Don’t look at me like that. You saw nothing, and I don’t want to talk about it.

Anthony rubbed his hands up her arms to reassure her once more. “I could use a new set of clothes. Could you send for something for me?”

She beamed at him. “Of course, sir. I’ll get anything you’d like. That’s what I’m here for.”

Eye roll. Of course she had called him sir. And he undoubtedly loved every second of it.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re truly invaluable. You know my sizes, and you know what I like, so I have no doubt you’ll choose something that flatters me.”

“That won’t be hard to do,” she blushed up at him.

His answering smile made you want to smack it right off his face. Charming bastard.

“Buy yourself something as well. Anything you want. Cost is no problem. I fear your pretty white blouse is ruined now.”

Yeah, you scoffed. Ruined and conveniently see through.

Jeaninne gave him one last embarrassed smile before retreating from the room. Before she reached the door he called after her.

“Oh, and Jeaninne… If you wouldn’t mind calling security to have them escort Mr. Vickers from premises.”

She replied with a nervous nod before fleeing the room.

You could cut the remaining tension with a knife. Everyone unsure of how to breach the standoff.

Predictably, it was my boss, lulled into a false sense of superiority, who decided to brave speaking.

“Well, well… It looks like the infallible Anthony Bridgerton isn’t invincible after all. It seems my attorney has managed to get underneath all your armor and hit her mark. How does it feel, Bridgerton?”

“How does what feel?” Anthony feigned interest, still wiping coffee from his trousers.

“To know you’re no better than the rest of us mere mortals. You’re just an arrogant boy who was handed his daddy’s company when he didn’t deserve it. Edmund would have never made a mistake like that one.”

Shit.

A small fleck of insecurity washed over Anthony’s features. He recovered quickly, but you saw it. It was an expression that was so out of place on him that for a split second he looked like another person entirely. Someone younger. Less larger than life, and more vulnerable.

It made you uncomfortable. You were the only one who was allowed to push Anthony’s buttons, and even you never wanted to tear him down that far.

Anthony opened his mouth, no doubt to tell your rotund boss to fuck all the way off, but it was your own voice that filled your ears.

“That’s enough! Mr. Morrison, you’re out of line. Don’t pretend to know anything of Edmund Bridgerton. That man would never have even granted you an audience. That’s how beneath him you would have found yourself. If I were you, I’d consider yourself grateful for even getting through the door.”

This meeting was getting out of control quickly. If you knew Anthony, and you believed you did, he was about to cut his losses and scrap the entire deal. He didn’t need this partnership. He wanted it, but he sure as fuck didn’t need it. And from where you sat, that was a dangerous place to be.

If you wanted to cash that big, fat commission check that only came after the ink was dried, you needed to do damage control.

“I think we need to take a breather. Everyone out!”

Mr. Morrison actually had the gall to laugh in your face.

“And I think you need to learn your place. I like you because you’re such a ball busting bitch but make no mistake – I’m the one in charge here. I pay you, not the other way around. So, I suggest you sit down and shut up while the men finish their conversation.”

The air in the room was charged with barely restrained fury. Whether it was yours or his, you couldn’t be sure. Mr. Morrison may have started this war, but Anthony Bridgerton was the one who finished it.

“Speak to her like that again and not only will I cancel this partnership, but I will buy your company outright and dismantle it piece by piece. I’ll sell it for parts while you watch your life’s work burn to ash. Did you think I didn’t know your proposal was a measure of last resort for you? I don’t need you, Mr. Morrison. Make no mistake – I’m the one with the real power here. From my vantage point, you’re the one who needs to learn their place.

Holy fuck…

If Mr. Morrison didn’t get the hell out of this room immediately, he was going to become intimately acquainted with your naked body, because – HOT DAMN! You were pretty sure it was the part of the story where the enemies were about to become lovers.

The look on Morrison’s face would have been funny if your clit wasn’t throbbing to within an inch of its life!

Walking to the door, you opened it and stepped aside, gesturing for him to make himself scarce.  “We can reconvene on Monday. I think calmer heads will yield the best results, don’t you?”

It surprised you when he didn’t try to argue. Anthony’s threat must have done its job.

Closing the door behind him, you locked it and tapped the high-tech keypad to cloak the space in privacy. The floor to ceiling glass immediately turned opaque and the sounds from the surrounding offices disappeared into silence.

You turned to find Anthony leaning against the large boardroom table, arms crossed over his toned chest. His eyes narrowed on you when you took a step towards him.

“I know you’re pleased with yourself, but I didn’t take you for the type to stick around to gloat.”

What a clueless jackass… He had no idea what was about to happen. The two of you had never crossed this line before, but you didn’t think you could survive another second in his presence without your mouth on him. Did he not feel this too?

God, this was going to be so embarrassing if he rejected you. It was a very real possibility. It would make perfect sense with the antagonizing nature of your relationship for him to even the playing field. Was it wrong that it turned you on even more to think about him putting you in your place?

“Shut the hell up, Bridgerton, and take off your pants.” Straight to the point was always the best approach with this man.

Genuine surprise colored his cheeks.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“You have been a raging dick for the past three days. If that vein in your neck is any indication, you’re going to stroke out before we can finish this deal. I’ve put way too much work into this project and spent way too much time in a room filled with guys staring at my tits for me not to get this bonus check. Now, take your fucking pants off so I can suck some of that stress out of you.”

“You’ve been thinking about my raging dick for the last three days, haven’t you?”

The smug turn of his perfect fucking mouth was almost enough to make you change your mind. It felt a bit too much like he was gaining the upper hand.

“And you’ve been thinking about my ass bent over your desk since I stepped foot in here on Wednesday. Don’t act like you don’t stroke yourself to sleep at night to thought of hate fucking me.”

Your fingers went to the buttons on your blouse and started to slowly reveal the lacey black bra beneath. You felt him go still.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice dropping to a sinful register.

“Giving you a better look,” you smirked “Every time I looked up today your eyes were on my tits. Touch them. They feel even better than they look.”

“You’re being serious right now…” he quipped. “What makes you think I would ever want to touch you?”

“Well, for starters,” you said, inclining your head toward his straining crotch. “Your cock looks like it wants to tear through those trousers to get to me. Or had you not noticed?”

You watched, mesmerized as his hand came up to rub himself over the restrictive fabric. Those pants were your new arch nemesis.

“If you want to rid me of my stress, it would be as easy as getting in your car and not coming back. You are the absolute bane of my existence, you know that?”

His surly words were doing nothing but egging you on.

“Maybe…” you purred, stepping into his space. You brought his warm, strong hands up to splay out over your waist. “But I’m also the object of all your desires.”

He growled in your ear when you leaned down to lick the protruding vein running up the length of his neck.

“This changes nothing between us. I still think you are the most infuriating woman on the planet.”

The heat of him looming against your stomach was too much to resist. Your fingers gripped him firmly until you felt him twitch in your palm.

“Are you going to fuck me or not, Bridgerton? If not, I think I saw your brother at the end of the hall when I closed the door.”

You made to pull away from him when his hand locked around the back of your neck, pressing you firmly into the sizable bulge resting between you.

“Don’t you fucking dare. We both know you would eat my brother alive. You’re not that kind of cruel.”

“No,” you agreed. “I’m your brand of cruelty, Anthony. I think someone designed me just for you. The arrogant, entitled prick in need of someone to put him in his place. I’m your comeuppance, baby. Now be a good boy and serve your penance.”

His forehead pressed roughly into yours, trapping you to his gaze.

“You never learned how to shut this smart mouth, did you? You’ve been lashing me with that tongue for 10 fucking years.”

The tongue he just accused of bringing him pain jutted out to show him pleasure, stroking over his kissable lips.

“You don’t want me with my mouth closed, Bridgerton.”

“I don’t know,” he teased. “A little peace and quiet might be a nice change.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. His pupils blew wide when you dropped to your knees in front of him. “You want my mouth wide open, baby. If you want me to shut up, then fucking make me.”

His fingers threaded into your hair yanking your head back to force your attention on his face.

“You are such a fucking brat. You’re practically begging for someone to teach you a lesson. Is that what you want? Do you want to learn your lesson?”

With all the innocence you could muster, you challenged him one last time.

“I’m an exemplary student. I’m hungry for knowledge, sir. Practically ravenous.”

If he was holding on to his restraint before, it was all gone now. His fingers tightened in your hair, sending a pulsing need to your attention hungry cunt.

“Take my dick out and stick out your tongue. I’m going to fuck that pretty face until you’re crying all over my lap. How does that sound? Do you want to choke on this cock for me?”

A whimpered “fuck” left your lips when he sprang free in front of you. You couldn’t think of anything you wanted more right now than to take him down your throat until he was a mindless mess. Licking your hungry lips, you leaned forward eagerly for a taste, but he pulled you back again.

“I asked you a question. Run that mouth one more time and answer me.”

“Yes,” you nodded enthusiastically. “Please, Anthony. I want to choke on your cock. I want to learn my lesson.”

A visible shudder ran through him at your confession.

“Good-fucking- girl. Give me your tongue.”

For once, you obeyed without protest. If you didn’t taste him soon you might actually die.

His hand guided the warm head of his dick along your waiting tongue. His hissed breath matched your rising desire, and you moaned in pleasure. You needed more. What was he waiting for?

“Any day now, Bridgerton.” Antagonizing him was second nature at this point.

With one exasperated thrust, he slid into your mouth effectively cutting off your air supply. His quick, deep pumps had you gulping around his length. Your eyes were already streaming down your face. The fuzzy, euphoric feeling of oxygen deprivation was starting to dance behind your eyes. Your lungs burned with the need to inhale but there was not a chance in hell that you would stop this.

His needy, frantic movements were setting your blood on fire. Your imagination never could have conjured the sounds rumbling from his throat. If this is how you died, you would do so proudly and with a smile on your face. Your tombstone would be emblazoned with bold lettering that you died doing what you were made to do – choking on Anthony Bridgerton’s perfect dick.

Just when you feared that you would have to admit defeat and beg him for mercy, he pulled free from your greedy mouth leaving you a saliva-soaked mess. His labored breathing was going to be your undoing. Getting a rise out of Anthony Bridgerton had always been your preferred pastime, but this way by far your favorite way to do it.

“Is this what you wanted,” he asked. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet?”

You smiled up at him, eager to poke the bear at every turn.

“Nope…” you said, popping the p in a way you knew would annoy him. “You’re a shit teacher, Bridgerton.”

Fire ignited in his rich brown eyes and your pussy all but cried out for help. The promise that one look held was enough to have you clenching around nothing, wishing he was buried inside you.

You let out a groan of satisfaction when he slapped his cock across your face.

“Did I say you could put your tongue away? Stick it back out and leave it there. I won’t tell you again.”

Desperate to taste him again, you did as you were told. He quickly rewarded your obedience with more slaps along your tongue. It was so dirty and debasing, but you loved every minute of it.

His leaking tip was smearing the salty promise of his relief all over your tastebuds. You almost came on the spot when he spit in your open mouth, coating himself thoroughly on your outstretched tongue.

“Wrap your pretty lips around my cock and swallow that.”

For fuck’s sake! You actually might not survive this.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. “Look how gorgeous you are when you’re doing what you’re told. Now put your hands on my thighs and hold tight. I’m going to ruin all your pretty makeup.”

Before you even had a chance to brace yourself, he was pumping back into your mouth at a relentless pace. It didn’t take him long to find a pattern that was pushing him towards the edge of his release. After a torturous onslaught of punishing thrusts, he rewarded you by holding you down on himself, burying your nose into the hair at the base of his shaft. The scent of him there was blindingly erotic, and you wanted to cover yourself in it. When he thought you had earned a breath, he would drag you off him and leave you gasping for air before starting the pattern over again.

The pressure building at the apex of your thighs was maddening. Removing one of your hands from his thigh, you reached down to ease the aching. No sooner had you moaned in pleasure around his cock did he take it away from you. You instantly felt bereft at his absence.

“Put that hand back on my thigh. I didn’t say you were allowed to touch yourself. That pussy is mine. It’s mine to touch, mine to lick, and mine to fuck.”

Your brain wanted to be obstinate, but your pussy – she wanted to be owned.

But old habits die hard. When he pushed himself back over your tongue, you scraped your teeth along his shaft in warning. It was enough to do damage, but it definitely got his attention.

Sometimes being a brat pays in spades.

Two strong arms snaked around your waist and hauled you to your feet. The abruptness elicited a surprised yelp from you, and you found yourself splayed out face down over the cool surface of the conference table.

His hands found the slit in your tight pencil skirt and ripped upward until the fabric gave way and your panty clad ass was on full display to the room.

The heat from his toned body and his sinful scent invaded all your senses when he folded himself along your back to growl into your ear.

“Why do you insist on testing me?”

Honesty was the only way you could respond.

“Because you’re the only one I’ve found who can handle the challenge. I love that you’re always willing to play with me, Anthony.”

Your hips started to push back into him involuntarily. There was so little separating your neglected, needy cunt from the one thing it wanted most. The tantalizing friction that his rigid erection provided, along with his deep throaty growl was enough to spur you on.

“Come on, Bridgerton. Give it to me. You know you want to.”

“You don’t deserve it after the stunt you just pulled. Only good girls get fucked when they need it.”

You couldn’t help but goad him. “Well, what do obstinate little bitches deserve? I’ve earned my punishment, Ant. Now fucking give it to me before I find someone else to do it for you.”

His leg pushed open your thighs apart even wider leaving you open and vulnerable. It also prevented your throbbing clit from finding even a modicum of relief. The force he used to drag your soaked panties down the ground had your heart racing all over again. You needed him to fuck you into this table until you couldn’t see straight.

His control was slipping again. It wouldn’t take much more to push him past his limit. If you really wanted to, you could have him pounding you with one strategically worded sentence.

As much as you wanted that, you enjoyed your game. You wanted to see what he’d do when left to his own devices.

You screamed, first in shock, and then in pleasure, when his hand smacked against the skin of your ass.

“Fuccckkkkk,” he groaned. “You filthy little whore. You liked that. I can see that hungry, perfect pussy searching for my cock. You’re dripping down your legs, baby.”

Something about the tone of his voice when he called you baby had your heart misbehaving in your chest. It sounded almost reverent. Like he was proud of you for how much your body begged for him.

“Count and tell me you’re sorry,” he instructed.

“One,” you complied. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why you’re sorry.” His tone was an order.

“I’m sorry you weren’t man enough to handle a little scrape of my teeth.” The rush you got from needling him was unparalleled.

The next blow was even harder than the last and had you lifting onto your toes. If he thought this was a punishment, he was sorely mistaken. You could easily become addicted to his discipline.

“Two,” you moaned. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why.” The strain in his voice was a dead giveaway to his level of need.

“I’m sorry I embarrassed in front of the boys today. They probably don’t respect you now.”

That earned you a smack right across your dripping core. It was the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. You felt like you could pass out from the adrenaline rushing through your system.

He asked you again and again why you were sorry, and each time you provoked him a little more. Your entire backside burned with the memories of the sensations his hands had left on you.

He asked you a final time.

“Why are you sorry, baby? Be honest.”

“Honestly,” you paused, braving your next words. “I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit. We should have done this a long time ago.”

One big hand curled around your throat and lifted your back to his front. His lips crashed into yours for a searing kiss. His other hand slid down your stomach and pressed into your clit with the perfect pressure. His fingers circled you as you moaned into mouth.

“Anthony,” you cried. “Please, fuck me. I need you. I can’t take it anymore.”

His body pushed yours back down to the tabletop and with one swift movement he was buried to the hilt. The stretch was exquisite. How had you gone so long without knowing the feeling of his cock moving inside you? That had to be some sort of crime against humanity.

You were both too far gone. It was impossible to savor it. It was quick, filthy, and hurt in the best way possible. His hips drove you so hard into the edge of the table that the bruises were likely already forming. The sounds the two of you made together were obscene. Skin slapping against skin. The desperate protest your wet heat made when he left your body for a fraction of a second and the whimpered thank you it made when you clutched him back into you.

His voice was the thing that truly sealed your fate. He was vocal and he wasn’t shy about it. His groans. His curses. His generous praise. He left no room for doubt. You were bringing him pleasure and he was lost to the euphoria.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck…” he hissed. “I’m gonna come. Come for me baby. Milk this cock with your tight little cunt.”

As if on command, you could feel the orgasm begin to swell. Your muscles clamped down on him, holding him prisoner inside you. You pulsed around him, and you could feel him get impossibly stiffer as he spilled himself into you.

“Yes. Yessss,” he cried out. “That’s it baby. Ride it out. I’m right there with you. You feel so fucking good.”

Breathing was hard, and your legs were seconds away from giving out on you. You winced at the pain when he pulled from your body. His release trying to follow suit, dripping down your thighs. You were a fucking mess.

His fingers collected your combined orgasms, pushing it back inside.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. “You’re going to keep all of my cum right where it belongs. I’m claiming this fucking cunt, baby.”

His fingers moved from your core to your lips. They were slicked with the evidence of what the two of you had just done.

“Suck,” he ordered.

You were done fighting him. At least for today.

Opening wide, you sucked his fingers into your mouth and tasted the two of you together on your tongue. A little hum of pleasure was all you could express. He had well and truly fucked you.

“Good girl.”

He straightened your body, righting your clothes and wiping the hair back from your sweaty face.

“Don’t move. Stay just like that.”

He moved away from you, gathering something from the other end of the table. When he reappeared at your side, it was with his phone. He pulled the camera up to snap a photo of your sex drunk face and then lifted your skirt again to document the damage he did to your ass.

“You look perfect. Absolutely wrecked.” He turned the phone to show you the picture.

He was right about the wrecked part. Your mascara was streaked all down your face, and your lips were swollen and red from the rough assault he made on your mouth. And you had the matching red hand shaped wilts on your ass cheeks to go with it.

“You’re welcome,” you teased.

“For what, exactly?” He was trying and failing to hide his smile

“I told you I could suck the stress out of you. You look much more relaxed now. Borderline happy even. It’s kind of creeping me out.”

His next words took you by surprise.

“Thank you.”

A loud buzz sounded and Jeaninne’s voice filtered into the room.

“Mr. Bridgerton… Your clothes have arrived, and your lunch is waiting for you in your office. I ordered your favorite.”

You couldn’t help the eyeroll as you continued to button your top.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re the best.”

“You’re shameless,” you accused

“What,” he shrugged. “I like to see how often I can make her blush.”

You huffed in disapproval. The poor girl was probably in love with him.

“Can I ask you something?”

You turned to look him in the face at his sudden change of tone.

“Sure,” you replied. “Ask away.”

“Do you respect me?”

You eyed him in shock. That look of vulnerability was back and you loathed it.

“Is this about what I said earlier? About me embarrassing you in front of your team?”

His silence was the only answer you needed.

“Do I seem like the type of woman who would put your cock in my mouth if I didn’t respect you?”

“No, you don’t.”

“Good.”

You gathered your briefcase and strode towards the door. You only stopped at the sound of his voice.

“I respect you, too.”

“I know,” you smiled. “You wouldn’t play so well with me if you didn’t. Get your shit together, Bridgerton. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning with revised contracts. I’m sure Morrison is chomping at the bit to get this settled after your little pissing contest today.”

Your hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again.

“You want to respect each other again next week?”

You shot him a playful wink before sauntering out of the room. You would most definitely be respecting the hell out of him as soon as humanly possible.

If you were lucky, maybe you could get him to respect you a little less.

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

@eleanor-bradstreet @faye-tale @musicismyoxygen84 @heeyyyou @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @queenofmean14

[dreamywriter143]

Do you think you can do a Neteyam x fem!teacher!Reader where shes Tuks teacher and Neteyam falls for her?

Karyu

Status: Request By Anon

Genre: Romance, FLUFF. Just cutie's falling in love.

Parings: Neteyam X Y/n (Reader)

Summary: Tuk always speaks highly of her teacher, who is nothing short of perfection in her eyes. After Kiri is tasked a week's worth of training the duty to take Tuk to classes is put upon the sons. What’s to happen when a certain someone meets this ‘famous’ Y/n? How will he act when he realizes he to, is drawn to her like her students?

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: Thank you for your request!! I had so much fun, I hope I did you proud. It’s kind of rushed because I have a lot on my plate but I hope that didn’t diminish it's quality. Please enjoy my lovelies!!

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“What is that?” Neteyam asks, curiously peering over his little sister's shoulder to see what she fiddled around with. Her eyes furrow with concentration, her tongue haphazardly sticking out between her lips as she weaves the twine carefully. 

“It’s a bracelet” Tuk states, not moving from her position on the mat. Neteyam opts to sit beside the girl since it was Lo’ak’s turn to help Neytiri prepare dinner tonight. He decided to indulge in his little sister's affairs seeing he was free.

“Is it for me? That is my favorite color” Neteyam points out with a warm smile. He points to the shiny stone she had added to the bracelet. It wasn’t perfect, it had twine sticking out here in there making it look a little messy. The weaving wasn’t consistent as many parts were either too loose or too tight. But nonetheless you can tell it was made with love, and Neteyam felt his heart swell thinking Tuk was making him such a wonderful gift. 

Tuk snorts out, her eyes glancing at her hopeful brother. “No! It’s not for you!” She says, sticking out her tongue. 

Neteyam frowns scooting closer to her. He nudges her shoulder making her hide her bracelet in the process. 

“Not for me? Then for who?” Neteyam asks, a sting of jealousy running through him. Due to his rigorous training he hasn’t been able to spend much free time with his siblings. Especially Tuk. He had felt like the wedge was getting bigger in between him and his youngest sibling. He desperately wanted to mend their relationship . And her making a bracelet not for him only dampened his mood. 

“It’s for Y/n '' Kiri pipes up. She places the bowls on the mat while helping Neytiri and Lo’ak. Neteyam furrows his brows at the unknown name. 

‘Y/n….who is Y/n?’ 

“Who?” Neteyam asks as his entire family slowly situated themselves in a circle. Kiri helped Neteyam pass each bowl as they filled it up with food. Lo’ak sat down with a thump, his shoulders relaxing. 

“Tuk’s teacher? The pretty one.” Lo’ak adds, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth. He quickly swallows it when Neytiri glares at him for talking with his mouth full. Neteyam turns to Kiri, he knew of Tuk’s classes but he had never heard of an ‘Y/n’. He sometimes caught the end of Tuk’s incessant ramblings on how great her classes were but he never asked further regarding the subject.

“You’re making a bracelet Y/n? That’s amazing Tuk, Y/n will love it” Neytiri hums, her smile widening as she catches a glimpse at Tuk's hard work. The frown on Neteyam’s face deepens. Did everyone know of this Y/n? How had he missed her?

“I hope so, I used her favorite colors!” Tuk says taking out the piece, her family peering down at the woven bracelet. Lo’ak bites his tongue from letting a rude comment slip through. He simply nods, looking down at his food. 

“It’s beautiful”Jake agrees, delicately taking the bracelet that seems to disappear in his large hands. Neteyam looks down to his plate, picking at a piece of fruit. It didn’t help that he felt jealousy over a stranger he didn’t even know. But it was a stranger that the family was well equipped with. He felt left out. 

“Speaking of Y/n, I won't be able to pick and drop off Tuk for this week,” Kiri says, slowly chewing on her food. Neteyam and Jake both look at her in question

“I would like to shadow Mo’at for the week. She suggested it” Kiri adds, Neytiri nods in acknowledgement. 

“I can do it! I’ll pick and drop off Tuk!” Lo’ak is quick to pipe up, his tail swishing excitedly at the thought. Neteyam’s eyes widen at his brother eagerness. Jake groans, handing the bracelet back to his daughter who pouts. 

“No! When you drop me off you’re always late! Plus you never actually drop me off, you’ve never even introduced yourself to Ms. Y/n '' Tuk complains, causing Lo’ak to scoff. 

“Also may I remind you that you’re still grounded, son” Jake reminds him, his eyes boring into Lo’ak who looks away. He had been dying of boredom over the past week as he paid for his latest screw up. He desperately needed something else. Something to occupy his time and provide some sort of distraction.

And visiting a certain pretty girl with the excuse of escorting his little sister seemed like the perfect distraction. Even though he never really got the courage to actually even utter a simple greeting her way, always opting to stay a good few feet when he used to drop Tuk off. That didn’t stop him from watching her from afar though, always admiring her from a distance.

“But dad-”

“No buts! End of discussion” Jake says sternly. Lo’ak’s ears flatten as he glares at the bowl situated on his lap. His eyes twitch in agitation at his fathers decision. 

“Neteyam?” 

“Yes sir?” 

Neteyams ears twitch, his body turning to face his father who regarded him. Jake’s eyes wander around his family as he formulates a plan for the upcoming week taking into consideration what his eldest daughter had told him. 

“I’ll rearrange your schedule, you’ll be dropping and picking up Tuk for the entirety of this week '' Jake declares. Lo’ak scoffs loudly, munching  on his food with mild annoyance. Neteyam’s body stiffens. He felt mixed emotions run through him as he mindlessly nodded. He felt disappointment knowing he’d have to sacrifice some of his daily training and lessons to accommodate Tuk. But a part of him was curious. 

Very curious to meet this so called ‘Y/n’

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

Tuk jumps up and down giddily on her way to her anticipated class.She skips along Neteyam who walks with a smile. He enjoyed seeing her happy. He saw how she held a tiny pouch that Kiri crafted for her easily this morning to ensure the bracelet stayed neatly tucked away till she handed it off. 

Neteyam looks forward to the tent he was instructed to drop Tuk off to. Children around Tuk’s age surround a female Na’vi squealing in happiness. The figure who they crowded must have Y/n, her slender back facing Neteyam as he nears them pulling Tuk along. He knew he was a tad bit late today, he had forgotten his new duty when he woke up that morning. 

“Can we go to the river today Ms. Y/n?”

“No! Can we go to the flower beds? I wanted to finish the crown you taught me to make!!” 

“We did that last week Sa’ylu!! Let’s do something fun today!” 

The children chatter with their eager requests causing the female Na’vi to giggle, shushing them down. Neteyam smiles to himself. She seems to have a lot of patience, especially as some of the kids tugged at her for her attention.  He felt pity knowing this teacher had to deal with a handful of them on the daily. 

“Quiet down children, we have a big day planned ahead of us. Let’s just wait until Tuk gets here” the soft voice replies back patiently. Neteyam quirked an eyebrow in confusion as to why she sounded so young. She sounded as young as him, weren’t teachers supposed to be…older? 

‘She sounds….angelic?’

Upon hearing her name Tuk rips her hand from Neteyam’s grasp, running  a few feet towards her friends. She greets everyone with a huge smile immediately bringing out her punch to show off what she had made. 

“I’m here Ms. Y/n! I’m sorry I’m late, my brother had to drop me off today” Tuk informs before being swept away from her friends. They eagerly crowd her to inspect her handiwork. 

Neteyam throws his sister an unimpressed glare before turning to the teacher ready to apologize. He had forgotten about dropping her off earlier in the day which is why they were late this morning to begin with. He was ready to take the blame. 

Y/n turns around, a small smile placed delicately over her lips. Neteyam feels himself standing stiffly at the sight, a shiver running down his spine upon eye contact. He felt his jaw hang slightly ajar as he gawked at her beauty. Neteyam’s eyes widen as he realizes the teacher, Y/n, was around his age. She was far too young to be a teacher. And way too pretty, just as Lo’ak had claimed. 

In fact, Lo’ak’s words didn’t serve justice, she was beautiful. Breathtaking even. Her eyes shined brightly under the sun as she smiled politely at him. She had such a calming aura surrounding her, it made sense as to why children were drawn to her. As if she were a magnet. 

Neteyam couldn’t believe that he had missed her, never noticed her amongst the crowds. She looked hard to miss, her beauty striking and eye-catching. Neteyam slightly cursed himself for not getting involved with Tuk’s classes beforehand. 

“Hi there, you must be Lo’ak?” Y/n asks, her voice delicate as she steps closer to the gawking boy. She squints her eyes, her brows slightly furrowing as she realizes that the boy in front of her wasn’t the boy that usually stood far away when dropping Tuk off. 

Shaking his head he quickly clears his throat, he felt himself frown at her words. 

“N-no! I’m Neteyam…..your  Ms. Y/n?” He asks, his eyebrows still raised in question. Y/n’s eyes widen her face flushing purple at his words. Neteyam wanted to take a picture of her expression, he couldn’t even get mad when she looked so cute while embarrassed. 

“My apologies! I just assumed that when Tuk meant her brother, it would be Lo’ak” she admits, her eyes dancing around to avoid looking him in the eye. She felt horrible for mixing the names up, especially since she messed up the next Olo'eyktan’s name. 

“It's no problem, usually Lo’ak would drop her off when Kiri couldn’t. It’s just he has to pays his dues first, he’s grounded” Neteyam smiles at how easily he was able to talk to her. It was a miracle she wasn’t able to hear the rapid beating of his heart.  Neteyam held himself firmly against the ground as he held back the urge to wag his tail. He was enjoying the interaction greatly.

“Ah, typical of Lo’ak-” Neteyam frowns at her words. 

‘Typical of Lo’ak?’

Lo’ak did seem friendly when the family mentioned her, had the two become close? Lo’ak did call her pretty, he even wanted to drop off Tuk in order to see her. Neteyam felt that familiar gut feeling of  jealousy overcome him. 

“-Is everything alright with Kiri? She usually drops off Tuk. And on time” Y/n teases causing Neteyam to flush bright purple. 

“She had some lessons with Mo’at…I’m sorry about that. It won't happen again.” Neteyam informs, scratching his neck out of nervousness. Y/n flashes a kind smile at his apology before glancing back at the children. They seem to get more and more impatient as they wait for their favorite teacher. 

“Well, thank you. Will you be picking her up as well?” Y/n asks, peering up at Neteyam. Neteyam felt his heart surge, she looked so delicate he felt the sudden urge to pull her in for a hug. Looking all cute and small should be illegal. 

“Yes, I’ve been tasked to for the entire week” Neteyam explains, fighting the heat along his cheeks. He hadn't noticed her amongst his people before, she seemed calm and soft spoken. It made sense as to why she never caught his eye before, he didn’t notice anyone that wasn’t outgoing as he was always too busy training and aiding his father, he wishes he knew her before though, her presence seemed to scream out to him. 

“That sounds good, guess I’ll be seeing you around often?” Y/n says softly. Neteyam finds himself gazing at how her long lashes flutter as she blinks. He felt a lump form in his throat, and unexplainable heat talking over his body. Unable to form words he simply nods his head. The future of the clan turned to a puddle of mush at the mere interaction with a girl he never met. 

Y/n giggles before throwing  him one more smile. She quickly walks to her students who cheer at her arrival. Neteyam watches as she takes the kids with her towards the forest. 

Neteyam clears his throat before deciding to sprint away. He didn’t know why but something about her was really unique and eye-catching. He decided right then and there that accompanying Tuk too and  from classes wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days Neteyam made it his mission to arrive on time every day. He woke up bright and early, his heart racing at the mere thought of seeing Y/n again. He would wait for Tuk, always having the breakfast ready to go. They would always arrive at least 30 mins earlier than the other kids, a perfect excuse to be alone with her. Neteyam would cherish those 30 vital minutes to converse with her and get to know her better.

From these interactions he's learned alot from her, and also realized why he never saw her around in the first place. She had a lot to do, a lot of responsibility on her shoulders. She had a little brother she had to take care of, who accompanied her driving her classes as a student. Other than that she spent the majority of the day foraging and hunting for herself and her brother. 

Y/n had lost both of her parents long ago and it's been just the two of them ever since. She has been so caught up in taking care of her sibling and teaching she barely had time for any leisure activities. Neteyam always found himself smiling at her, gazing at her face as she relayed her stories. 

He couldn't help but grow to admire her more and more, he loved how she cared for the children. How strong she was providing for herself and her brother from such a young age and the fact she was happy. She always looked on the bright side, her smile never weaving which only proves how strong the little girl truly was. Just as the saying goes, the saddest people have the brightest smiles. 

On multiple occasions Neteyam offered his help, during small breaks he would locate the group and approach them. Always offering to hunt for her, help her with the students. He knew he had great skills, something that should help her out.  Y/n always declined claiming she would feel bad for taking the the future clan leaders help without giving something in return.

But Neteyam would have done anything she asked in a heartbeat. Because he slowly began to realize what the fluttery feeling meant as their interactions grew. He was infatuated with her, he was in love with her. 

Neteyan immediately confronted Kiri regarding the realization when he caught he in between her classes. Kiri immediately became supportive, claiming he should start preparing courting gifts as many other Na’vi men have also noticed how amazing Y/n.

“Where are you going?” Lo’ak asks, petting his Ikran who cooes under his touch. They had just finished patrol and were getting ready to head home. Lo’ak noticed how Neteyam quickly began discarding his gear and how he hurriedly bid his Ikran goodbye. 

“To pick up Tuk” Neteyam says fixing his hair off the leaves that got stuck. Lo’ak frowns at his words, his gazing following his Ikran who flew away after he bid farewell. He clears his throat of the raspiness. 

“Isn't it early? They're not done till much later” Lo’ak informs watching Neteyam get restless answering his questions. 

“I know, but Y/n and the children are picking fruit today. I thought it would be nice to help them out?” He shrugged. He misses that flash of jealousy that overcomes his little brother's face. 

“Y/n? You call her Y/n?” Lo’ak spits, her eyes narrowing at his older brother. Neteyam’s ear twitches to his brother's tone. 

“Yes, were quite acquainted now so she wanted me to call her by her name. We are the same age after all” Neteyam turns to his brother, his broad shoulders stiffening at his brother's expression. 

“Ah I see…Well today is that last day right? You won't need to drop Tuk off anymore right?” Lo’ak asks, walking past Neteyam. He grits his teeth following after Lo’ak into the village. 

“Yes, but it's not like I'm not going to see her around '' Neteyam says, not realizing Lo’ak clenches his fist at his words.

“Is it true?” Lo’ak asks, turning to face his brother. Neteyam stops abruptly, tilting his head to the side in question. 

“I overheard you speak to Kiri…are you planning on courting her?” Lo’ak notices a deep blush spread across his older brother's features. Neteyam clears his throat, his eyes dancing around awkwardly. 

“Yes…yes I do” he says shyly. Lo’ak slumps his shoulders in defeat. He watches sadly at how happy his brother looked, the look of pure love and adoration that radiated off of him at the mere mention of the girl. He would be lying if he said he didn't catch how Y/n gazed at Neteyam when he could sneak nearby. He saw how her eyes filled with awe as he interacted with her students. That's when he knew. Lo’ak knew he didn't stand a chance. 

“Good luck brother, I hope it all goes well” Lo’ak says softly. Neteyam smiles wide at his brother encouraging words. Neteyam sees his warrior friend wave to him calling him and his brother. Slightly puzzled they walk to the boys who smile wide. Neteyam noticed how they kept glancing back at a forming group, his eyes widen noticing the familiar students crowding and chattering amongst themselves. 

“What is it? What's wrong?” Neteyams asks, his eyes dancing from student to student. He seems to drown out his friend's words as Tuk emerges from the group running towards her brothers in a hurry. 

“Lo’ak! Neteyam!” she calls, causing Neteyam’s heart to drop to his stomach. With his friend and brother he walks through the crowd, his eyes immediately falling to Y/n. Her leg was bangaed up in a cloth as she held a weeping boy in her arms. Cradling him tightly against her. Tasun, Y/n’s brother stood next to her, his eyes glistening with tears as well.

“Ms. Y/n saved  Ar’utey from falling from a great height! Isn't she amazing!” Neteyam overhears Tuk praising her teacher from beside him, but all he could focus on was the girl who smiles carefreely in front of him. As if she didn't have her leg busted. All she could focus on was the whimpering boy in her arms.

“Y/-n?” Neteyam whispers, stepping closer. Some of the students now take notice of the warriors around them including Neteyam. Some smile at his presence noting his worried glance. 

“Karyu '' Neteyam says louder, being mindful of his friend's eyes that are trained on him the entire time. Y/n’s head snaps up, her eyes shining with happiness when her eyes land on Neteyam.  Lo’ak gulped audibly at her stare, glancing around not to openly gawk at her. She had small cuts here and there including the injured leg, her hair disarray and she still looked breathtaking. 

“Well, if it isn't my oldest student” Y/n teases. She holds her student tightly in her arms as she rocks him back and forth. He didn't seem to have any visible injuries but looked terribly shaken up. 

“What can I do for you? You look worried?” Y/n furrows her eyes as Neteyam inhales deeply. His heart rate had been beating like crazy, the feeling of butterflies and fear mixing together. 

“Maybe I could help you out? What happened? Are you ok?” He asks frantically crouching down to her level. She smiles warmly, shaking her head. 

“It's nothing, I'm fine. Just a minor injury, nothing I cannot handle, mighty warrior” Y/n says teasingly, causing a small smile to break through on Neteyam’s face. He felt his shoulder relax as the commotion around them got louder. An older navi woman rushes into the center, her eyes falling on her son.

“Ar’utey!!”

Neteyam gets up, giving them space as the mother couches down to check on both Y/n and her son. Neteyam leans back, his friend whispering amongst themselves. Lo’ak lets out a breath he's been holding. 

Neteyem's eyes bore into the girl a few feet away from him, his heart clenching at the sight. He couldn't seem to have found a more amazing girl. Such a kind spirit, filled with happiness. She was perfect, her love for her students, her motherly nature. It made Neteyam dream about her, fantasize about a future with her. And he couldn't think of anything else. She took up his entire mind, his entire  heart.

“Woah….who is that? She is…something” Neteyam overhears one of his friends whisper. 

Neteyam smiles softly to himself watching how Y/n comforts the child in her arms, she places a soft kiss on his cheek causing the little boy to giggle. It was such an endearing sight, something to treasure. Neteyam glances at his friends whose eyes are still trained on her. 

“That's Y/n, she's going to be the mother of my children”

__________________________________________

A/N: I Hope you guys enjoyed!! Please comment and like, it really helps motivate me! Also, I love hearing feedback from you guys!! I'm sorry in advance, I didn't like this much. I feel like I could have done better, this cold has been really kicking my ass. I'll I hope to better in my next instalments!!

[beelinx]

Me screaming because I saw the piper one and flower crowns were mentioned and I love flower crowns and you know what else I love !

Can I request Leo with a reader who makes him a pretty orange flower crown? Honestly I feel like he'd feel like he has to give them something back and he'd go and learn how to make flower crowns, or he'd make like some mechanical one or something.

Tysmmm!!

hii ty, such a cutie request and yes yes yes i def agree with you ! 

it’s no secret leo’s love language is gift giving, so i feel that once you gave him that flower crown, he immediately felt the need to give you something in return.

obviously, this would lead to him trying his hardest to learn everything there is to know about the nature of these said crowns. he’d look back towards the beautiful, hand-crafted one you gave him. the delicate orange petals that’d wither in a week, or maybe less. it pained his heart to think about it, all your hard work gone just like that.

he didn’t want you to feel that way; he would never want your feelings to be hurt.

so, what could he do?

“hey, leo!” your usual cheery voice greeted as he stepped into the flower fields. “i missed you! you’ve been hiding from me in that hole of yours,” you whined, nuzzling your head into the space where his neck and shoulders met.

he laughed, but he did feel somewhat guilty for staying locked inside his workshop so long. leo realized that it had been a while since you two spent some alone quality time together. he wrapped one arm around you, while the other stayed behind his torso, gripping the project he’d spent so long working on.

when you pulled away from him, you immediately catched on to the suspicious way he was standing.

“what’s that?”

he hummed, “what’s what?”

“behind your back!” you insisted.

he grinned from ear to ear. “i made something for you.”

you tilted your head in curiosity. “what is it?”

leo hesitated for a moment, suddenly feeling slightly sheepish. still, he presented his creation to you.

the crown had been carefully crafted over the course of these past weeks. leo’s a talented craftsman, but he’s not an artist. it took him a while to make it look as pretty as he could. the flowers were detailed, almost exact replicas of the one from the crown you made for him in this very field. he even tried adding your favorite color to them, though some sides were slightly smudged.

your eyes widened as you looked at it, making him feel more insecure about his work. sure, it wasn’t the prettiest thing ever, but he found he was actually kinda proud of his work. well, before — now he fears you’ll laugh and start kicking him while you call him useless or something.

“i love it.”

your voice broke him out of his derailing thoughts. “y-you do?

you nodded eagerly. “it’s so cute. i love it,” you repeated.

leo sighed with relief. “i thought you were gonna hate it,” he admitted.

you raised a brow at him. “what do you mean? why would i hate it?”

he paused, slightly uncertain. “i dunno,” he finally said. “i guess i thought you’d prefer a cuter flower crown. like, an actual one.”

you rolled your eyes lightheartedly and lovingly kissed him on the cheek. “leo, i would love anything you make for me. whether it’s made with metal or flowers, i’ll love it just the same. especially since i know you made it thinking about me, with all your love. or, well, at least i’d hope it was with love.”

he chuckled at your comment, appreciating your comfort. “yeah, with all my love,” he assured you.

you pecked him on the lips and looked up at him. “then it’s perfect.”

honestly, it might lack a bit (at least aesthetic-wise) but it’s always nice to know he put in so much work and thought into a gift for you. <3

[mcflymemes]

NOCTURNAL ANIMALS (2016) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

please don't say that. i don't want to be like my mother.

do you ever feel like your life has turned into something that you never intended?

that's a deal breaker for me.

we might be perfect for each other if we didn't live in the real world.

why do you always think the worst of me?

you're wrong. you and i are nothing alike.

i see we're settling for less now!

a package arrived for you. i found it in the mailbox this morning.

i'm sorry, but could you help me open this? i just cut my finger. paper cut.

in the end, you left me with the inspiration that i needed to write from the heart.

where were you last night?

by the time i left the office, i was late for my dinner.

it would have taken you fifteen minutes. fifteen minutes, and it would have meant a lot to me.

you didn't come to bed last night.

i didn't want to wake you up.

that doesn't sound like you.

are things a little better?

i'm surprised. i thought we were hiding it pretty well.

[name], i'm worried about you.

seriously, look at me. you scared me the last time that we talked.

i'm fine. i just can't believe i told you all of those things. i feel embarrassed about it.

what right do i have to not be happy? i have everything. i feel ungrateful not to be happy.

i think we just want different things. or maybe i want different things.

we get into things when we're young because we think they mean something.

do we really have to stop tonight? i'd rather just get there.

don't look at them. don't give them any reason.

sit still. they've probably got a gun.

don't get out of the car.

you're not supposed to leave the scene of an accident. it's a crime.

don't come any closer.

i'm a gemini, my favorite color is petal pink, and i like long walks and kittens.

you know what, we should call the police.

you got no fucking right to talk to me like that!

you'll get killed if you don't watch it.

may i use your phone?

could you see them in the dark?

i just wanted to hear your voice. i miss you.

you sound weird. are you okay?

you look beautiful as always.

would you like to have dinner?

you know, you were my first crush.

what a weird thing to say.

i'm sorry. i hope that doesn't offend you.

this is a ridiculous conversation. you're too young to get married.

oh my god, did you just say that? you really just said that? that came out of your mouth?

it's like the whole thing is a blur.

now listen. i've got to be honest with you. right now it's not looking good.

if i write it down, then it will last forever.

you know my name. i told you.

you didn't sleep again, did you?

who the hell are you? get off my property!

you'll take this the wrong way, but i think that you need to stop writing about yourself.

please don't start that again. it makes me feel like you don't believe in me.

you always get so fucking defensive about it.

i really wanted to be this person that you thought i was. i really did, but i'm just not that person.

you're wonderful and romantic, and sweet and sensitive, and all the things i'm not. life for you is kind of a dream.

weak. i'm weak. that's what you want to say. go ahead and say it. you've said it before. weak.

i'll live to regret this. i regret it now.

i got a certain pride in how people talk to me, and there are certain things i don't put up with.

nobody gets away with what you did.

may i get you a drink while you wait?

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 3: The Summer Has to End Someday

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter three of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (once or twice), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect.  Reader is occasionally described as "curvy." If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Philadelphia 1935

"Sit still." You say, dipping your brush gently in the small pot of water at your knee, before stroking it through your paints and placing it against the pad of watercolor paper in your lap.

It was a beautiful day at Fairmount Park. Children ran across the grassy fields flying kites and avoiding the outstretched hands of their mothers, while couples lounged on blankets with picnic baskets overflowing with sandwiches and champagne. The sun was sending gilded light across the pond that gently rippled with the breeze that brushed through your hair, pulling it across your rosy cheeks that blushed under Ben's gaze.

It was your 16th birthday and despite your mother's insistence to take you shopping in the busy stores that lined the streets downtown, you had refused, choosing rather to come to the park and prepare your mind for the party that would follow this evening. You had already glimpsed the abomination of purple tulle that your mother expected you to wear and you hoped that a quiet afternoon in the park would wipe the monstrosity from your memory.

At least before you were squeezed into said dress later that evening.

"I’m bored." Ben stated, leaning back on his elbows where he was sprawled next to you in the lush grass that was no doubt staining the light blue dress that clung to your body. One you had chosen for yourself that accentuated the way you looked, rather than hid it as the other dresses your mother bought for you. However, when Ben came to pick you up this morning your mother had insisted you bring a coat, despite it being the middle of summer. You hadn't missed the flash of anger in Ben's eyes when she wrapped the coat around your shoulders to hide your curves. The same coat that Ben immediately removed when you walked out the door and threw over the wrought iron fence that surrounded the front of your home, before looping his arm in his to direct you toward the park.

"It was you who said you wanted me to paint you." You sigh, looking up at your friend.

Ben's navy suit jacket was open, the buttons of his matching vest and white shirt underneath strained as his muscular shoulders pulled against them and made your breath catch as your eyes traced them. There was a pale pink phlox flower in his front jacket pocket, one you stuffed there earlier despite the roll of his eyes. You had wanted some contrast between his suit and the color of the flower, and despite Ben's annoyance, he obliged you as he always did.

"I was hoping there would be less clothing involved." Ben grins at you.

"You know, no other gentleman speaks to me the way you do."

"I didn't know you considered me a gentleman y/n. I thought that you knew me better than that." His grin quickly shifts into a mischievous smirk that makes you bite the inside of your cheek and turn back to the page.

A year had passed since Ben got you watercolor paints and ignited a unquenchable passion for painting. Something about the way the colors ran together soothed you, the gentle stroke of the brush against the page calming the usual frustrations of your life.

One of which was sitting beside you, looking entirely too attractive for someone who'd just rolled out of bed and was wearing the exact outfit he had been wearing when he snuck through your window last night. This morning he had crawled out the window and rang the doorbell at the front of your home, acting as if he'd been up for hours.

You pause at the thought of last night. Ben was leaving for boarding school number seven at the end of the week, but the way he looked when he showed up the night before, rumpled and smelling of cheap whiskey, meant that he and his father had another disagreement. Despite his inability to talk about what happened, if it was your burden to bear, to always be there for him, you welcomed it.

"Hey." Ben's hand comes down on your arm to draw your attention back to him.

You look back up at him. "Hmm?"

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" He turns his head to the side to examine you.

"Thinking about the party."

"Oh right. Should be fun. Can't believe I received an invitation. I thought your mother would have burned it-"

"She tried." You smirk. "I snatched it from the fireplace just for you."

"How thoughtful."

“Selfish really. There’s no way I’m going through one of those parties without you again.” You snort, catching his emerald gaze.

“The Christmas party was not that bad-“

“Says the guy who got drunk on eggnog and then preceded to flirt with a potted plant!”

“That potted plant was more interesting than that idiot How-“ Ben’s next words are cut off.

"Y/n!" You hear someone shout from behind you.

Howard Stine struts towards the two of you across the sidewalk, where a few other boys stand in a tight group. He’s wearing a sand colored suit and vest, with the chain of his golden pocket watch catching in the warm sunlight with each stride forward. At Howard’s appearance, Ben sits up from his relaxed position, leaning towards you.  

“Speak of the devil.” You hear him mutter.

Ben nods his head towards the group of boys, who nod back in greeting. Ben was more popular than you. Your own circle of friends was reduced to Ben, your housekeeper, the gardener, and a handful of girls your own age that only wished to talk about how close you and Ben were and once they realized you were just friends, they then proceeded to ask you if you could set them up.

As if you would ever set them up with him, you were still trying to set yourself up with him.

A few of the group of boys you recognize as the sons of your father's friends and others boys you'd seen Ben stumble around with on the streets after a night at the bar around the corner. You watch Ben's left hand go to the flower in his front jacket pocket and crunch it in his fist before the others can see it.

The action made you smile to yourself, because despite Ben not wanting them to see him with the flower, he had still allowed you to place it there.

Howard blocks the rays of sun above you so that you don't have to squint up at him. He wasn't terrible looking. Howard was your height, with reddish brown hair that was slicked back over his head and he had a dusting of cinnamon colored freckles on his cheeks, but he was nowhere near as tall or broad as Ben. Where Ben was muscular, Howard was lanky, his hands small and sweaty. Ben moved with a grace and elegance that you couldn't comprehend, while Howard plodded along, stumbling on solid ground. Howard's pointed chin was nothing like the strong jaw of Ben's rugged face. Something that you studied whenever Ben was with you and you spent several nights devoted to capturing in your sketchbook.

"Hi Howard. How are you?" You smile at him, brushing back your hair from your face with your free hand.

Howard's eyes move from Ben to you, taking in your close proximity. Ben's hand was still touching your arm, and the tip of your knee an inch away from the outer edge of Ben's thigh. In fact, Ben had leaned towards you so close when Howard came over that his breath rustled through your hair.

"Good. What are you doing?” Howard moves a hand through his hair to tousle the reddish waves.

“Ben is obliging me. It’s a beautiful day and I wished to capture it.” You wave the brush in your right hand for emphasis.

“Ah.” Howard squints at the watercolor paper. “Well it’s certainly interesting. I didn’t know you liked to paint.”

“She likes all kind of things Howie.” Ben responds with a smirk, his voice dripping with suggestion.

Your eyes flash a warning to where Ben sits. He’s withdrawn his hand, but he’s still leaning close enough to you that you can smell the spicy scent of his shampoo and cologne.

It reminds you of this morning when you woke up and realized that Ben had pulled your back into his chest while he was sleeping. When his arm was curled around your waist as he buried his head in your hair and muttered something in his sleep that you couldn’t understand. The thought makes you flush bright red, remembering how wonderful and intimate it felt to be there.

Howard ignores him. “We're all going to go to Wallman's on the corner for shakes, I was wondering if you wanted to come?" He doesn't acknowledge Ben.

“Well-“ You begin to say, taking in the beauty of the pond and your paint stained hands.

The truth was you didn’t want to go, you wanted to sit there in the grass forever with Ben, where you couldn’t tell if you were warm because you were under the golden light of the sun or under Ben's gaze.

“She’s busy.” Ben says before you can finish your sentence.

Howard’s smile becomes tight. “I think I was asking her.”

Ben shrugs. “And I think I just gave you an answer.”

"Why don't you just-" Howard begins, but Ben is already up off the ground, pressing his chest against Howard's, his green eyes blazing in the light of the sun.

"Why don't I just what Howie?" Ben's voice is low, the deep rumble stirring something in the pit of your stomach.

You loved a lot of things about Ben, but his temper was not one of them. Ben rarely lost his temper with you, yes you did annoy him and he would lose his patience, but he often turned that anger into teasing.

"Ben." You stand, leaving your watercolor pad on the ground, so you can place your hand on Ben's shoulder. It was supposed to be a gentle reminder. Ben knew that you were more than capable of making your own decisions, but you couldn't help but wonder why Ben had responded the way he did.

Is he jealous?

Ben looks down at you with a frown, but finally he sighs and takes a step back.

Howard's eyes are narrowed at where Ben now stands to your right, Ben's arms crossed over his muscular chest, but Howard's gaze shifts back to you expectantly.

"Howard that's really sweet, but it's getting late and I have to get ready for the party tonight." You force a giggle to ease the tension in Howard's shoulders. "You are coming right?"

"Of course." He smiles. "I was hoping that you'd save a dance for me."

"She-" Ben begins to say, but you elbow him in the side, hard.

"Of course I will."

“Great. I guess I’ll see you tonight.” He frowns one more time at Ben before turning back to the group of boys on the sidewalk and leaving with them.

Ben stands there for a minute watching him go.

"You should try to be nicer to him." You say, tugging on the sleeve of Ben’s jacket to grab his attention.

"Why?" Ben snorts.

"Because-" You shrug. "He's sweet and he’s interested in me. I’d hope that you two would get along.”

Ben rolls his eyes. "You could do better."

"Last time I checked the suitors aren't exactly lining up. Not to mention you tend to scare them all off." You wave a hand around you for emphasis. "And I'm not getting any younger."

"Neither am I, but you don’t see me settling for Howard Stine.”

"I didn't realize he was your type." You snort rolling your eyes at him as you sit back down in the grass and pick up your painting again. "I haven't seen you courting anyone recently."

You try to keep the happiness from your voice at the thought. Ben hadn't been trying to chase after as many girls in the past few months as he had previously. And you wondered if his father was trying to arrange him with anyone. If Ben’s mother had still been alive you knew that she would have found someone suitable for Ben, but you’d heard your father say something to your mother behind a closed door that Ben’s father had asked about one of the daughters of his work colleagues.

The thought makes something in your chest tighten to the point of snapping. You hated the idea of watching Ben court someone else, watching someone else kiss him, run their fingers through his hair, and hated the thought that Ben would spend the night with someone else other than you.

Of course when he spent the night with you, all you did was talk, but it was possible that Ben might find that sense of companionship with a lover rather than you.

And then where would you be? Alone.

Ben reclines back as he did before, shaking his hair out behind him, and closing his eyes. It's lighter in the sun, more of a honeyed brown than the usual oak. "I leave in a week."

"Hasn't stopped you in the past." You mutter more to yourself than him.

"Maybe nothing has caught my eye." He opens one eye to study you.

"Hmm."

“Or perhaps I’d much rather spend my last days of freedom with you.” He flirts with a wide smile.

“Last days of freedom?” You laugh, ignoring his tease. “We both know you’ll probably be back within the month.”

Instead of laughing, Ben’s smile fades into a frown and you wonder if he’s thinking of his father.

“Ben I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“

Ben shrugs it off and pulls out a silver flask from his jacket pocket. As soon as he opens it, the sour smell of whiskey floats through the air before he takes a swig. He holds it out to you, but you wave it away, focusing back on your paper.

"So if he's the one, why didn't you go with him to Wallman's? You made up a bullshit excuse that you had to go home." Ben takes another pull from the flask, but you can't shake the shift in his tone.

"I wanted to finish painting." You say to avoid the truth, that you didn’t want to leave him, because you could tell he was still upset over whatever he and his father talked about last night. “But I do need to go home. Mother is no doubt waiting with a horde of maids to make me presentable.”

You frown to yourself imagining next few hours where you would be slathered in creams, your hair tugged and swept up over your head, your body scrubbed almost painfully, and finally the corset that would cut off your circulation and make it impossible to breathe.

You wondered if any other girls your age were subject to such torture.

“Just admit it y/n, you find Howard as boring as a sack of flour.”

“He’s from a good family, he’s a gentleman. My mother would be pleased-“ You start to say, defending Howard even though you didn’t like him as much as you liked Ben.

“Your mother would be pleased with a cactus as long as it meant getting you out of her sight.” Ben snaps back.

His sharp words sting against your skin and you drop your eyes to the paper again, welcoming the silence that follows. Because he was right.

Your mother thought you were a disappointment. She had started comparing you to your sister-in-law who was flawless, effortlessly beautiful and graceful. Your mother voiced her disapproval many ways with disapproving looks, snide comments on what you wore, how you looked... It wasn’t for lack of trying. You did whatever she asked but each time it was never good enough for her. You weren’t enough. And it was something you kept close to your heart. Ben knew that better than anyone.

That’s why his words hurt so much.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry-“

“It’s okay.” The tears that burn in your eyes smear the image of the page in your lap.

“Y/n please look at me.”

You don’t raise your head. “I should go. She’ll be mad if I’m late-“ You begin to put away your things.

Ben’s fingertips come to your chin, tilting it back to look at him once more.  He looks sorry. His green eyes are paler now, like clover, wide and open, his mouth pulled down into an apologetic frown.

“Please don’t go. I’m sorry. Just stay a little longer.”

You sit there for a moment, his hand cupping your cheek and as a tear falls Ben brushes it away with his thumb. The gesture is gentle and surprising. Ben tolerated the occasional hug, but this was more intimate. It made your breath catch.

“Okay.” You whisper.

Ben relaxes and drops his hand from your face, but he’s still watching you. You know he’s trying to think of something to say to make you feel better, but when he can’t come up with anything, he reaches over and plucks another flower from the bush on his left, before stuffing it in his front jacket pocket.

It enough to make you smile and this time he returns it, understanding that he's been forgiven. You allow the warmth of his gaze seep into your skin and you bask in the warm glow of his smile.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series, let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak

[cheriipetal]

ᯓ★ Chap. 3 | Big feelings, Small words

Sypnosis .𖥔 ݁ You were like a ghost that's haunting him. But somehow he couldn't be scared of you, not wanting to exorcise you but wanting for you to stay with him.

── .✦ 4537 words.

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Rin looked at the TV screen, seeing the familiar scenes of his favorite movie brought a thrill to him. His hands clutched his toys, grip tightening whenever an exciting scene came up. It was getting to the good parts of the movie.

He jolted, hearing a rumble of a car stopping on its tracks, distracting him. Did his parents finally arrive?— he peeked outside from the window, but to his disappointment, they didn't.

He then lowered his head, ready to go back to his spot on the couch. That's when he saw you, a girl his age, stepping out of the car talking in English.

For some reason, the younger Itoshi didn’t know why his eyes couldn’t take themselves off of you. There wasn’t anything special about you—it’s not like you were doing a backflip while scoring a goal—yet you seemed to pull his gaze toward you like a magnet for his eyes. It wasn’t your toy or dress, it was just… you, maybe it was because of how you spoke English, were you a foreigner? He didn’t know at all.

“That’s probably the family that bought the lot,” Rin heard his older brother’s voice looming behind him. He looked at Sae, trying to see what he felt about this, but he had that unreadable expression like always.

The younger shook his head, clearing his thoughts away, trying to hide the strange feeling bubbling in his chest. “I… don’t care. They’re just gonna be NPCs to me,” he muttered, feigning indifference and moving away from the window, rushing toward the TV.

He turned curious and looked toward his brother, who was still observing the new neighbors.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Over the course of days, Rin couldn’t help but just peek over the window more often than he’d like to admit. He’d spot you playing on the front porch, sometimes with a stuffed toy in your hands.

“She’s just a neighbor,” Rin told himself firmly, shaking his head. “Nothing special.”

But his eyes still wandered to your front porch with pots of blooming colorful flowers whenever he thought no one was watching. He noticed how you often went out with your dad, your laughter echoing through the air.

“Rin!” Sae yelled during one of their practice drills, pulling him out of his thoughts.

The younger Itoshi panicked and shot the ball straight to the net, which was blocked by the goalie. Rin felt his heart beating as he missed the shot.

His breath heavy and panting, his teal eyes scanning his brother, who had an unreadable expression as usual.

“What’s up with you lately?” Sae suddenly asked, his hand glued to his hip.

“Huh?” Rin asked, trying to play it cool.

“It’s like you’re in la-la land. You’ve been in your head lately,” the older Itoshi said with nonchalance, but there was a tint of concern in it.

Silence was the only answer Rin replied with. He felt even more embarrassed by his older brother’s comment and an immense weight on his shoulders. He hated how Sae could always read him, hated how he wasn’t able to stay focused like his older brother does.

“I’m fine,” Rin mumbled, finally answering.

Sae didn’t press any further, but for the rest of the day, Rin wasn’t feeling himself. He couldn’t shake off the feeling, and it boiled every minute. He felt angry, but at what exactly? Himself? Nii-chan? Or you?

They arrived home, Sae went ahead. Rin remained static, wanting to let out all the frustration that was building up. The ball he was gripping in his hands bounced off of the pavement as he dropped it.

He then mustered all of his strength into the kick. He didn’t know what he was aiming at, but he just wanted to hit something. The ball bounced off the wall as expected, but it curved sharply in the direction behind him.

Rin turned around to follow where it was heading, but then it was going at your house at full speed. His gaze scanned if you were there, and to his disappointment, you were. Normally he felt happy seeing you, but at this moment, he wanted you to go inside.

The ball landed on the cup of milk, splashing it on your toy that you always carried. He felt frozen in place. Rin did what Sae always taught him to do if he got in trouble.

“Run and don’t look back,” and he did just that.

His legs moved as fast as they could and bolted for the ball. Rin’s eyes looked at you almost instinctively. He could see your face—your eyes widened and your jaw dropped like you were witnessing a crime happening. Once he grabbed the ball, he ran like he never did before and went to his home.

The shutting of the door was loud as he closed it, which caused Sae to peek over to see what was happening.

Rin felt his heart beating every moment. It wasn’t a good thrill like he felt when watching horror movies.

“What happened—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rin said, heading to his room. His hands were still gripping the ball that had the stain of the milk.

Today was a disaster.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The next few days he stopped peeking over the window, there was a chance they might make eye contact. He felt the whole world was watching him.

Whenever he saw you outside he’d hurriedly hide like you were the killer on the loose. Rin didn’t know what to do— he couldn’t ask Sae for help, he’d just tease him about it and it would make him a loser in front of him.

He arrived at school, making his way over to his classroom and sat on a seat near the window. Rin had his head on his desk, still not getting over that incident— he prayed nothing else would happen.

But, of course, it did.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted you. Rin recognized that unmistakable hair color caught his attention immediately. You were walking in his direction, He tried to hide his face with his arms but that clearly didn’t work since you were still going straight at him.

The younger Itoshi just braced for what you were about to say. His mind went blank as you kept asking him to apologize and then you mentioned someone named Ms. Moe? Oh, it was your stuffed toy.

Rin just kept denying everything, not wanting to take responsibility and being found guilty.

He went home that day feeling even more worse, Rin just gave up and went to his older brother for guidance.

“Mom and Dad are going to be mad at you for messing with the new neighbour,” Sae said without looking up from his book. His tone was flat, but there was an edge of amusement in it.

“It’s not a big deal,” Rin grumbled.

“Not a big deal? You’re gonna get arrested,” Sae said, his voice laced with mock seriousness.

Rin’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Yeah. There’s a law,” Sae continued, barely suppressing a smirk. “If you mess up someone's toy, you have to replace it. If you don’t, the police will come and take you away.”

Rin stared at him, horrified. Sae wasn’t joking. He never joked, Rin thought to himself.

“...Are you serious?”

“Completely,” Sae deadpanned.

To anyone they would’ve thought Sae was a big fat liar and just said that because he wanted to mess with him but to Rin— his brother was telling the truth since Rin always believed him.

And with that Rin rummaged with his toy box searching for anything in value most of it were just action figures and toy cars.

His eyes fell on an owl plushie that he loved, it was his favorite. It was the only stuffed toy that he had and the other toys didn’t seem like you would like them. It was one of his favorites— but he couldn’t risk getting arrested.

He came to the decision and put it in his school bag along with a mini toy house and a toy car for good measure.

Rin ended up apologizing to you the next day, even when it felt ego crushing for him. You had a wide smile on your face after he gifted you the apology gifts. He felt that unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest again, and this time, it wasn’t unpleasant. Rin forgot his embarrassment as you looked at the plushie.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Rin learned your name from the teacher calling it out for checking attendance. L/N Y/N. He didn’t know why it stuck to him. He’d never cared about someone else’s name before this.

You were like a ghost that's haunting him. But somehow he couldn't be scared of you, not wanting to exorcise you. He didn’t want to care, but there you were— always at the edge of his mind.

School was boring as ever, the lessons felt endless, the teachers were obnoxious, and the other kids were nothing but noise. Rin had always thought it was a waste of time.

But lately, school didn’t feel so intolerable. It wasn’t just the subjects or the lunch breaks— it was you. You’d started talking to him and Rin found himself answering back, he didn’t know why.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N always seemed to find him during recess or after school (obviously since they live right across the street from each other), chatting about things that he didn’t even make a thought about.

Sometimes, you’d pull him into games with your other friends, even though he said he didn’t like them. Somehow, you’d always made it fun for him.

Rin would never call you a friend— just a person that he tolerated and would never leave him alone. But he didn’t mind it as much as he would.

“Y/N, watch this!” The dark-green haired boy called out one noon, holding up his two action figures.

You turned your attention towards him, and Rin felt a spark of satisfaction.

He rammed his two action figures together like they were in an epic battle, mimicking the sound effects and dramatic crashes. But it was short lived—

Crack!

The two of you froze, staring at the toys now broken in half at the torso.

He shrugged it off, tossing the pieces on the ground aside. “They always break,” he muttered, “it doesn’t matter.”

Instead of moving on, you crouched on the floor and began picking up the broken pieces.

“What are you doing? Just leave them,” Rin said flat but in an almost annoyed way.

“But these are your favorite toys, right? You can’t just leave them behind! Have you ever seen Toy Story?”

“No,” he simply replied, “what’s that?”

And that made you silent for a moment, then your face formed into shock, as if he just admitted guilty to a crime. You went closer to him which made him flinch a little by the proximity, “You have to come over to my house to watch it tomorrow!”

“Alright, alright! Don’t get too close,” Rin scolded, pushing you gently, suddenly aware of their closeness.

You grinned at him, that same bright smile you always had. And Rin felt a strange tug on his chest again— he still wasn’t getting used to it, but it was like his heart was telling something, he didn’t want to understand it.

Why did you always have to smile like that?

That weekend, Rin did end up going to your house. You lived right across the street, so it wasn’t much trouble getting here.

Standing outside, Rin glanced at your front door, hesitating before ringing the doorbell. Seconds later, the door opened, and he saw your mother walking out.

“You must be Mrs. Itoshi’s youngest kid!” Your mother warmly said, her voice is kind and soft. “Y/N’s told me a lot about you lately. Sounds like you two are getting along, maybe you should invite your brother to play with her as well,” Mrs. L/N suggested.

“Good morning, Mrs. L/N,” The dark-green haired boy mustered up to say.

He blinked, surprised. You’ve been talking about him? Rin shifted his weight awkwardly, his teal eyes eyeing at the inside of the house at the distance, searching for you.

Your mother notices the way he kept flickering his gaze past her and smiled knowingly.

You were already on the couch playing with Ms. Moe, clutching the stuffed toy in your arms as you patiently waited.

“N/N-chan, your friend is here!” Your mother called out, and your head shot up at the sound of her voice. The moment you saw Rin, you jumped and ran to and held his hand without hesitation.

“Come on, I want to show you something!” you said excitedly, pulling him towards your room upstairs.

The younger Itoshi let himself be led, his eyes darting towards the interior of your room. It was colorful and cozy, a reflection of you. Toys were scattered messily across the floor, he was taken aback by the amount of toys you had.

Then, he saw them— two familiar action figures propped up on your desk.

“I fixed them,” you announced proudly, noticing his gaze on the newly fixed toys. “Dad helped a little… but— I did most of the work!”

Rin took a step further, picking up the toys carefully this time— fearing it would break again. The cracks were faintly visible, but the pieces together almost perfectly.

He didn’t ask for it to be fixed. He didn’t even think you would. Yet, here they were, good as new.

For a moment he didn’t know what to say. But something in his chest made him feel warm.

“...Thanks,” he muttered under his breath, suppressing a smile. Gripping the toys a bit tighter.

“See? It’s like they’re alive again! Like in Toy story!” You said beaming at him, “Speaking of the movie. Let’s watch it now! And if we have time we can watch the sequel,”

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he quickly brushed it off. “Alright,” he said, following you to the living room.

As you ran ahead, setting up and preparing the movie. He thought to himself, that he is starting to like you more and more and wanted to be more than just playmates at school.

He’s considering calling you his friend from now on.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You knew it, you were tearing down his cold walls each time you spent together. Rin was getting softer, though he’d never admit it.

Occasionally, he would try to impress, even if he masked it as something else. He’d invite you to his house, put a horror movie on, and be holding a proud smirking as you clung onto him, frightened— while he on the other hand didn’t seem fazed. For someone who acted so indifferent, he seemed to enjoy your attention more than he lets on.

It really did feel like you were making progress in your mission, much quicker than you anticipated. You loved learning about his dreams, passions, and tiny habits that no one else noticed.

As much as you liked learning about him there was one passion that you tried to avoid talking about— Soccer. You had enough of it, since Auntie Anri would be so busy because of it and you barely saw her anymore. You didn’t want it to be the same with Rin as well.

Unfortunately, Rin had different plans for this weekend. He was inviting you to play soccer in the field with his brother.

You sighed as you made your way into the field that he mentioned, kicking a pebble along the path. The faint scent of cherry blossoms drifted in the air, and the sight of trees blooming in soft pink hues lightened your mood. You loved spring— everything feels so alive and vibrant.

Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea. If nothing else, you gotta enjoy the scenery instead of briefly passing it with a car.

As you approached the field, two familiar figures were in the distance, they were the only ones who were playing under the bright sky. Peering at them at the entrance. You saw Rin’s older brother noticed you first, then soon Rin noticed as well and made his way over to you.

“What took you so long?” the younger Itoshi said, laced with concern but tried to conceal it.

“Sorry, Rin,” You said in a shrug with a light and unapologetic tone, “I was just admiring the cherry blossoms while walking— they are very pretty this time of year,” you explained.

His brows furrowed and gave you a small frown but there wasn’t any hint of surprise like he expected this of you. “Whatever, let’s just play.”

As you dropped off your bag on a bench, you noticed Rin’s older brother giving you a few side glances, Rim said that he was here to keep an eye on them. You were still wondering what he meant when he said a few weeks ago. Come to think of it, you didn’t know his name, Rin always referred to him as Nii-chan. You made a mental note to just ask later.

“This is your first time playing soccer, right?” Rin asked, snapping you out of your thoughts and you responded with a nod.

“Isn’t your brother going to play with us?’ You said, eyeing at the reddish-brown boy who was sitting at the bench at the distance.

“He says that he’s just gonna watch us play and to keep an eye on us,” Rin explained.

“Alright,”

You stood there awkwardly in the field, staring at the soccer ball like it was a math equation you didn’t intend on solving. You’ve seen a lot of soccer plays in Auntie Anri’s house whenever she watched TV but weren’t really interested in it.

Maybe you should’ve paid more attention…

It wasn’t that you didn’t wanna play anymore but it was more that you didn’t know how. “What if I’m bad at this?” you asked worryingly.

“...then I’ll teach you,” Rin said, a bit more softer than usual, but you didn’t notice too focused on the ball at your feet.

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself. “I’m ready,”

“Took you long enough,” Rin spoke out, tossing the ball at your feet. You flinched trying to move away at first then realising you needed to stop it, it even barely stopped at time— your feet stumbling a bit.

“You’re supposed to control it, not run away from it,” he added, suppressing a laugh but it still slipped out.

Maybe you should’ve just stayed at home, but spending time with Rin is gonna make him want to be friends with you so you’re gonna endure it.

“Alright, first thing’s first” Rin said, taking it back and placing the ball in front of you. “Just try to pass it back to me.” he demonstrated, nudging the ball with a clean motion that sent it rolling back to him. “You know, like that,”

What…?

You stood there awkwardly. You needed directions, not just some vague demonstrations from him. Your brows furrowed looking at the ball that he just passed back to you, still trying to figure out what he meant.

“Can you do that again?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion.

“No,” he replied bluntly, “I already gave you clear directions,”

Yeah, clear as mud. You wanted to say out loud but held your tongue

You mimicked his motion, your foot grazing the ball gently. It didn’t go far, but it was clearly not smooth. It rolled a little, stirring off to the side.

“that sucked,” catching it with his foot effortlessly. “Try again, but with more power,” Rin replied.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Rin’s idea of “clear directions” was somehow different from yours, because nothing about this felt like it was making sense.

You should never let Rin teach you or other people things. He is way too fast, too impatient, and never lets you catch up and expects you to do it perfectly.

At first you were struggling to control the ball, your passes were too soft or veering off to the side. But somehow, despite Rin’s disastrous excuse for teaching, you managed to figure it out.

The ball started going where you wanted it to, your kicks were more smoother and more confident— though still far from perfection, but at least you were making progress.

Rim blinked as you sent a sharp pass back to him, “Are you sure you’ve never played before?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“If I had, I wouldn’t be here, being taught by you,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes back at him.

“Then let’s see if you can get the ball past me and score a goal,” Rin said, planting himself firmly in front of the goal. “Just try to kick anywhere but straight at me.”

You frowned, lining up your shot. With an exaggerated swing of your leg, you sent the ball rolling… directly into Rin’s shin. He winced, rubbing the spot.

Your hand was covering your mouth, shocked. You went over to see if he was alright, “—I’m fine, it wasn’t a bullet.” The younger Itoshi pushed your hand away gently. “But I said pass me, not through me,” he grumbled.

“Alright, let’s try again,” Rin spoke out, dusting his shin. Kicking the soccer ball back to you, you stopped it with the bottom of your foot instead of running away this time.

You charged forward, the ball still wobbling. Rin was right in front of you, his intense gaze locked into your movements, planting himself firmly.

You bit your lip, unsure what to do. You faked a kick to the side— though it was unintentional, more like you were off balance— and Rin stepped to block it. In your panic you accidently connected the ball, sending it in the opposite direction. The ball zipped past him and into the net.

There was a long silence between you too as you stared at the ball sitting steadily at the net.

“I scored?” you asked in disbelief, you were contemplating how you were able to do that.

Rin frowned looking at you, his brows furrowed. “That doesn’t count,” he said, though you could see the slightest tint of red in his cheeks.

“Nu-uh, it totally counts!” You retorted, throwing your arms in the air triumphantly.

“You didn’t even mean to do that,” Rin grumbled. He avoided your eyes, muttering in his breath.

You then picked up the ball and tilted your head, a teasing grin displayed on your face, “Aw, is Rin-chan mad I beat him in his own game?”

“We’re going home it’s late anyways,” he said curtly, he wasn’t wrong the sky was getting dark, time really did fly by. You looked at him again, already walking towards the bench where your bag and his brother was.

You couldn’t help but laugh, jogging to catch up with him, “don’t be such a sore loser! I’m a fast learner, you know.”

Rin stopped, glancing over shoulder with a glare that lacked its usual sharpness, “Next time, you’re not gonna get past me,” he said, but there was a small yet unmistakable smirk on his face.

“You’re actually smiling! Does that mean we’re friends now?” you said with a smug grin, wrapping your arms around his shoulder.

“As if,” he said, his tone more softer than usual, and he avoided your gaze.

When you made your way home, you couldn’t help but think about Rin’s older brother. He still hadn’t spoken a word to you, his cool and distant demeanor creating an air of mystery around him.

Despite his aloofness, it was clear how much influence he had over Rin. The younger Itoshi practically lit up when Sae was around, even if Rin would never admit it outright.

Once you arrived at your house, you and Rin went your separate ways. You practically sprinted through the door, eager to collapse on your bed and recover from all the physical activity. Your legs felt like jelly, and you couldn’t wait to unwind after such an eventful day.

But just as you kicked off your shoes and started to relax, a faint tug of memory nagged at you. Something felt off, like you were forgetting something important.

The answer came when your hand brushed against a familiar round object. You froze, staring down at the soccer ball still in your grasp. A groan escaped your lips as realization hit you—you’d accidentally taken their ball home with you.

With a resigned sigh, you slipped your shoes back on and headed to the Itoshi residence. The walk was short, but the weight of the ball in your hands felt like a constant reminder of your blunder.

Once you reached their doorstep, you stood on your tiptoes to reach the doorbell. A soft chime echoed through the house, and moments later, the door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was a woman with reddish-brown hair, her kind eyes softening as she looked down at you. “Hello, sweetheart,” she greeted warmly.

You straightened up, offering a polite smile. “Good evening, Mrs. Itoshi.”

Her expression brightened further. “Ah, Y/N, aren’t you the one Rin’s been spending so much time with? He’s been in such a good mood lately, and I have you to thank for that. You’re welcome here anytime,” she said, giving your head a gentle pat.

The sudden physical affection caught you off guard, and you froze slightly, unsure how to react. “Thank you, Mrs. Itoshi,” you managed, your voice small.

She smiled at your politeness but quickly added, “You should get along with Sae as well.” Her tone was casual, but there was a hint of encouragement in her words.

You congratulate yourself since you didn’t have to embarrassingly ask Rin what his brother’s name was even though you’ve seen him a bunch of times now.

“He’s been struggling with his English recently, and I heard from your mother that it’s your first language. Would you mind helping him out sometime?”

You hesitated, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden request, but you nodded. “Alright, Mrs. Itoshi. I’ll try my best.”

Her relief was almost palpable. “Thank you, sweetie. You’re a lifesaver.”

You handed her the soccer ball, watching as she cradled it with care. “Rin must have forgotten this. I’ll make sure he gets it back.”

With a final pat on your head, she bid you goodnight, leaving you to head home once more.

As you walked back, your thoughts swirled. One Itoshi brother was already a challenge to befriend, but now you had to crack two tough shells? Double trouble was an understatement.

Still, you figured it wouldn’t be so bad. Rin admired Sae a lot, and getting along with him might even earn you some extra points with your stubborn friend.

But that was a problem for another day. For now, all you wanted to do was snuggle with Ms. Moe and enjoy some much-needed rest.

And as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but smile. Somehow, this day had turned out pretty great.

Taglist .𖥔 ݁ @danhoneyyysblog @nana7nana777 @levihanmyotp

[slaymitchabernathy]

Favorite Daughter

| trying something new??? this pov will most likely never reoccur but it came into my mind & i just had to get it out |

“Ceraphina Snow, come away from that window and finish your breakfast before your father catches you.”

Ceraphina jumps at her mother’s soft voice calling her out. She didn’t think anyone would notice her hiding behind the massive curtains that covered the dining room windows at night but her mother noticed everything.

She has the decency to look a little guilty, shuffling back to the table where breakfast has been laid out for everyone. It’s an assortment of pastries, fruits, sausages, eggs, and her favorite, bacon.

She looks at her little brother’s plate and finds it filled to the brim with all sorts of foods but according to mother, boys eat a lot.

They also grow a lot. Ceraphina remembers when Caspian was just a tiny baby, so small, the size of one of her dolls. She was enamored by him the moment she was allowed to meet him. He’s the spitting image of their father, golden curls, sea-blue eyes.

Ceraphina knows what it’s like to be compared to a parent.

She is her mother’s twin.

She’s heard it since the day she was born. “Oh, she looks just like her mother!” When she was little she didn’t really understand what that meant. Surely she looked like both of her parents since they made her together, but now that she’s nearing the age of eleven, she can see clear as day that she’s taken after her mother when it comes to looks.

They both have the same light blonde hair, wavy instead of curly. While she didn’t inherit her mother’s tan skin, she did inherit her eye color, blue and gray, along with the freckles and rosy lips her mother always sports.

Celeste and Caspian look more like father in her opinion. Celeste has curly blonde hair and the same eye color as father and Caspian. The only thing that she has in common with mother is her upturned nose, something else Ceraphina inherited.

But Ceraphina knows that she’s like her father in other ways. According to mother, they think the same way, talk the same way, and argue the same way.

These are not very nice comparisons is what she’s come to conclude.

“Will father be coming to our performance tonight?” Celeste asks sweetly, poking at her eggs. Ceraphina scrunches her nose at the sight of the soggy-looking meat, she despises eggs. They’re so gross. Celeste used to think the same thing, but she outgrew that way of thinking, formed her own opinions on life instead of copying everything Ceraphina did.

For the longest time, Ceraphina couldn’t wait for her little sister to stop copying her. But she’s found herself missing it more and more, remembering when they were younger, less aware of the world around them and the adults who rule it.

Mother shakes her head, offering a sympathetic smile, “I’m afraid not darling, he’s been very busy with meetings as of late and won’t be able to make it.” Celeste huffs, resting her elbows on the table which causes both of her siblings to silently wait for the reprimand.

Eudora has told them about a million times that elbows on the table are not good manners.

Sure enough, with the eyes of a hawk, Eudora sees this behavior and raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow, “Either remove the elbow or remove yourself from the table dear,” Eudora says as kindly as she can manage.

They’ve all seen Eudora when she’s fully furious and they all try very hard to avoid that side of her.

“He never comes to anything anymore,” Celeste whines, taking her elbows off the table so she can slouch in her chair. Before mother can come to father’s aid, his authoritative voice fills the room, “What about your talent show? I came to that just two weeks ago.”

They all sit up straight in his presence, as would anyone since he’s the President of Panem. He doesn’t always conduct himself that way around them though, especially around mother.

Celeste continues pouting but Ceraphina’s eyes are glued to her parents, watching this small interaction between them. She watches father pull back his seat, leaning down to press a kiss to mother’s head and she smiles up at him.

Ceraphina has seen her father threaten to kill people on television and yet he’s a completely different person with mother.

Like there are two versions of him.

One for the country.

One for his wife.

Which version the children get is completely up to fate. Sometimes, they get the doting father who would burn the world for them. Other times, they get the strict father who was raised in the same fashion, always expecting greatness for the great house Snow.

Being the oldest means that most of those expectations fall onto her shoulders. Sometimes Ceraphina wishes she were a boy, maybe it would be easier.

Father sits down in his chair, his hand immediately rests on top of mothers, showing off his golden wedding band that sits on his ring finger. Ceraphina has seen mother’s ring so many times.

It’s beautiful with a large diamond in the middle and tiny ones surrounding it. Apparently, it cost a small fortune, enough to feed an entire District for a whole year. And Ceraphina has seen her mother garden while wearing it, getting it dirty without a care in the world.

“Yes,” Celeste gripes, “but this is different! I have a solo that I get to perform.”

Ceraphina has heard Celeste sing this solo she won’t shut up about, and father won’t be missing a thing in her opinion. It’s nothing to write home about.

“And Ceraphina will be playing the piano,” Celeste adds which gets her a glare from her older sister. She doesn’t need to drag everyone down with her.

Father looks impressed which is rare but she knows he won’t change his mind. “Well, I’m sure that your mother will tell me all about it,” is all he says and that’s all he needs to say. The decision has been made and no one will question him as the man of the house.

There’s a way the Snows go about life.

With father at the top, dominating everything and Ceraphina knows him well enough to know that he likes it that way. No one in their family would ever challenge him. Not Caspian, no, he’s too much of a momma’s boy to try anything with father.

Since the day he was born, mother has doted on him, causing her to be his favorite parent. Even as the only boy in the family, he’s not expected to ever lead their house the way father does.

And Celeste can try to challenge father but she fails everytime. Mostly because father doesn’t have the heart to go at it with her. She’s his baby girl, his youngest daughter. He always lets her off so easily compared to the rest of them.

Mother is too kind to try anything with him either. She loves him, she’s loved him for so long that she knows it’ll be pointless to fight with him. And Ceraphina sees the way she melts around father, she’s far too happy with the life they’ve created to ruin it.

Which leaves Ceraphina to cause all the trouble.

It’s not like she even tries to do it. It just comes so naturally to her. He’ll say something and it’ll set her off, leading to them clashing with the rest of the family to bear witness.

“Or you could come see it,” Ceraphina suggests and she can already feel the air grow tense. Caspian silently pushes his food around on his plate, his eyes darting to mother before looking back at his big sister. If things get ugly he’ll try to crawl into mother’s lap the same way he did when he was a toddler.

He stopped when he was five. Far too old for a child of his age and status and far too young for his liking. At least he doesn’t carry around that stuffed lion anymore.

Father gives her a look, a careful, warning look that lets her know he is not to be tested. “Next time,” is all he says.

“But there won’t be a next time,” she pushes, gripping the edge of the table, “and I’ve been practicing. Haven’t I been practicing mother?”

Her mother swallows, looking between her husband and eldest daughter, she’s always been the peacemaker in their family, wanting to avoid conflict as much as possible.

“I think you’ve both been working very hard towards different things darling,” she says softly, her hand still under father’s which is more than enough to know where her loyalties lie.

Ceraphina loves her mother more than anyone in the whole wide world but she’s already decided that she’ll never get married. Not if it means living like this, bending to a man’s will. Her mother is a saint and her father is the devil who loves her.

“It’s just not fair,” Ceraphina huffs, “whenever father needs us to show up for something, we do, whether we want to or not.” She can see that everyone is extremely worried about where this is going but she’s on a roll now, “I don’t even care about the Districts but every time father wants to kill all of the people living in one of them, we have to be there to support him!”

Her mother’s eyes drop, not even able to look at her anymore. One glance around the table tells Ceraphina that perhaps she’s crossed a dangerous line this time.

Father is furious.

She can see it in his hardened stare, how his jaw is clenched, and how tightly his hand is squeezing mother’s hand.

It’s at that very moment she’s saved by the bell, or in this case, Quintus Heavensbee, someone who’s worked for father since before she was born. He steps into the dining room, unaware of what’s taken place moments before with a practiced expression.

“Coriolanus? I hate to interrupt but we have the Mayor from Four on the phone.”

Father takes several deep breaths before nodding, sliding his hand off mother’s hand, “I’m coming,” he tells Quintus, his stare still focused on Ceraphina who feels so small in her chair now. Mother leans in, whispering something that seems to calm him down.

Ceraphina only catches a few words, “…I’ll talk to her…”

Father nods, standing up and making his way over to Quintus without so much as a goodbye to any of them. Mother wears a frown on her face, making Ceraphina feel even worse. She knows that they won’t see father for the rest of the day unless he’s done with work in time for dinner which is highly unlikely.

Breakfast is the only time they all get to see each other, mother included.

“I’m sorry,” Ceraphina whispers, clutching the tablecloth between her fingers. Mother shakes her head, “We can talk about it later darling. Now everyone please finish eating your breakfast and Caspian darling, please don’t play with your food.”

They assume a sense of normalcy after that, chatting about small things before their plates are cleared and the Avoxes come to take them away. Eudora takes Celeste and Caspian upstairs to get ready for school while mother steers Ceraphina outside to the veranda overlooking the grounds.

“That wasn’t a very kind thing to say,” mother tells her gently, brushing her hair back. Ceraphina crosses her arms, scowling at her shoes, “Well he isn’t very nice sometimes. I’ve been practicing forever and he won’t even be there to see it!”

It’s funny too since he was the one who insisted on her learning how to play the piano, wanting all of his children to be well-rounded individuals with multiple talents.

“I’ll be there to see it,” mother offers but Ceraphina shakes her head, mother comes to everything. Father doesn’t. “It’s not the same,” she mumbles.

Mother sighs, crouching down so that they can be at the same level, “Darling, your father loves you very much. He wants what’s best for you and sometimes that means being able to do things without him. He wants you to always try your best, especially you being the oldest.”

That’s not really fair. Just because she was born first doesn’t mean she needs to be perfect.

“I’m not even his favorite so it doesn’t even matter,” Ceraphina says, more to herself than to mother whose eyes soften. “Your father doesn’t have favorites.”

“Well if he did, I would not be his favorite.”

Ceraphina searches her mother’s eyes for an answer, an explanation as to why her father is this way. If anyone knows, it’s her. But instead, she sees worry, and hesitation as if mother knows something else but is choosing not to tell her.

“We need to get you ready for school,” is all mother says, kissing her cheek before standing back up, “you two can apologize to each other later, I don’t want this fight sitting between you.”

Ceraphina hangs her head but doesn’t argue. She can argue with father all day long but she hates arguing with mother. She’s too nice to argue with.

It’s not until Ceraphina is walking into the Academy with her siblings an hour later that the possibility dawns on her, that she actually might be his favorite.

Caspian is the youngest therefore the one who gets protected the most. Father would never choose him to be his successor. Celeste backs down too quickly, always letting others take on the brunt of the fight. Father would never choose her to be his successor either.

But Ceraphina is just like him. Always willing to fight and throw herself on the line for what she thinks is the right thing to do. Mixed with her physical traits, looking just like the woman he loves the most, it’s not even a question for her anymore.

Her father is the worst person in the world and she is his favorite daughter.

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