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vettelsvee · 4 months ago

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SÍ... ESTAMOS SALIENDO | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Pérez!Reader

SUMMARY: Scared of everyone to find out, Y/N Pérez and Oscar Piastri decide to hide their relationship from everyone until Checo starts wondering how Piastri learnt to speak Spanish so good... and specially why he has a Mexican accent ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe one were she is checos daughter and they hide their relationship from him. And also maybe she teaches oscar some Spanish. At the end they end up telling checo about their relationship

WORD COUNT: 2399

WARNINGS: Use of Spanish. Important to say that even Spanish is my mother tongue, I may have some mistakes because it is Mexican Spanish and I don't know much about it, so I had to do some research. Otherwise, mentions of unwanted pregnancy, unprotected sex, drugs and alcohol

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: Not writing related but I’m obsessed with a K-Drama I started watching yesterday and I just wanna write Come What May series since the main characters’ personalities are the same as Seb and Y/N (Di in case you read the OC Version) there lmao. Anyways, missed a lot writing about Oscar (I definitely will be writing about him more as he's my second fave on the current grid) and this one got me so happy with how it turned out! Hope you like it as well, and remember that I'd love to see your comments <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

“What if you taught me some Spanish?”

“Sorry, what did you just say?”

“That's it, Y/N. Teach me some Spanish.”

You, completely absorbed in looking at the pictures you had taken during the date you had with your boyfriend that same day, lifted your gaze from your phone and raised an eyebrow, fully taken aback by Oscar's proposal.

“Spanish? You? You already speak English! English is the only language that matters to you all…”

Oscar shrugged, nervously playing with the steering wheel. At that moment, he reconsidered what he had said, unsure now, and realized that maybe it had been a somewhat strange proposal on his part.

“I just want to understand you when you talk to your dad or your family. I know no one knows we’re together yet, but sometimes when you do video calls with them, I feel a bit lost. I also feel like sometimes you talk about me, and I’d like to know if I should worry,” he confessed, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“And why do you assume we talk about you, huh?”

“Well, because you always look at me out of the corner of your eye when you do.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked with that unnecessary concern.

“Why do you have to be so chismoso?” You said, making Oscar give you a little tap on the shoulder. That just made you laugh more. “Alright, alright, fine! But I warn you in advance: if you laugh at me speaking Spanish or don’t take me seriously, I’ll break up with you.”

What started as a completely random proposal, with little prospect of a future or sense at first, eventually became one of your favorite routines. You took advantage of every moment together to practice, always hiding it from Checo or any member of the Pérez family when you were in the paddock. Moreover, whenever you were in your respective countries, you would watch Mexican movies and TV shows, and also some in their original version with English subtitles. You even started sending each other the occasional message in Spanish, thanks to the Australian’s initiative.

Oscar seemed to have, in your eyes, a natural talent for languages. Not only did he manage to learn greetings and basic words in less than a week, but after a month, he was already making the effort to use your Mexican accent and even incorporating words that seemed exclusive to your family’s vocabulary.

And that was exactly what, a few months later, turned into a real nightmare for the secrecy with which you kept your relationship.

While no one knew you were together as a couple, Oscar and you pretended to be just friends when you were in public. That’s why it was completely normal for Checo Pérez to see his daughter with the Australian, having coffee and chatting animatedly after a press conference.

“¡Buenos días, Checo!” Oscar said in almost perfect Spanish. “¿Cómo va, papá?”

You, hearing that last word, spat out the little coffee you had left in your mouth and opened your eyes, completely surprised. Checo, however, made a face and a frown, questioning his daughter’s friend.

“What did you say?” You asked, though you knew perfectly well that what your boyfriend had just said was something you hadn’t taught him, and he’d probably heard it from you.

“Well… ¿Cómo va, papá?” the guy repeated innocently. “Did I say it right?”

“Papá?” repeated the Red Bull driver, even more shocked. “Do you even know what that means, kid?”

“It’s an expression, right? Isn’t it like saying buddy?”

Checo stared at him for a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Oscar. Then, he turned his gaze to you, who was pretending to fiddle with your phone to avoid having to face an awkward conversation about why your secret boyfriend had just said that.

“¿Te importaría decirme por qué Oscar habla como tú?” Pérez asked quickly in Spanish, clearly aiming for Oscar not to understand.

“He doesn’t talk like me!” You quickly replied in English. “Oscar has been practicing Spanish, and well… he wants to fit in better so he’s trying. Duolingo isn’t the best app for learning, so he’s been watching YouTube videos... Right, Osc?”

The guy nodded, but that didn’t convince Checo. Still, he didn’t say anything else and, instead, coldly said goodbye to you both.

As soon as he was far enough away not to hear you, you turned to Oscar and started shaking him:

“Of all the things you could say, you call him papá?!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, babe!” He rushed to reply, feeling bad for you. “I’ve heard it so many times that, well… I just said it without thinking. I honestly didn’t think it was anything bad.”

You huffed, knowing that it wasn’t Oscar’s fault or his curiosity and interest in learning your mother tongue, but yours for not setting boundaries or explaining the meaning of each word, as well as the context in which it should be used or who it was addressed to.

From that moment on, your father started paying more attention. He was an expert in discretion, but you knew him well enough to realize that, since the incident with Oscar, he had become much more alert and interested in you both, especially looking for clear signs that would confirm his suspicions that his daughter was dating one of the newest additions to the grid.

Unfortunately for you and Oscar, the Mexican didn’t need to investigate much, and he only did so for a month to confirm his theories.

During one of the briefings with all the drivers, Checo heard Oscar mumbling an “Órale, wey” followed by some insults in Spanish that you had made up when it had gotten pretty late and everyone was eager to return to their hotel. Also, instead of saying “sorry,” he let out a “¿mande?” which wouldn’t have been strange if he hadn’t continued speaking in English, as if nothing had happened.

You and Oscar seemed unaware of all your slip-ups; on the contrary, feeling like you weren’t arousing anyone’s suspicion, you lowered your guard. Displays of affection in public, though still cautious, became more frequent, especially when Checo wasn’t near you. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

The back of the McLaren garage, just a few meters away from Red Bull’s, as expected, wasn’t the most suitable place.

“We should go somewhere else,” you said softly while nervously fiddling with the collar of your boyfriend's shirt, who had his arm around your waist.

“Why? This place is perfect,” Oscar replied, unconcerned.

“Yeah, sure, perfect for my dad to catch us,” you muttered. “If he already suspects and looks like that doll from the red light, green light game on Squid Game, analyzing us so much to jump on us as soon as he catches us… imagine if he finds us. He’ll kill us, I swear.”

“Come on, Y/N, just try to relax. We’ve got it all under control. Seriously, there’s nothing to worry about, mi amor.”

You blushed at the compliment he had given you in Spanish, and couldn’t help but plant a chaste kiss on his lips, even though everything inside you felt chaotic.

“If you’re trying to convince me that everything’s fine by speaking to me in Spanish, just know that you’re doing it perfectly,” you declared. “But don’t forget, that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a tremendous anxiety and keep thinking that we’re literally one step away from getting caught. Do you know what he could do if he finds out that you and I… that?” You asked hesitantly.

“Is he going to give us a lecture on how we have to stay professional whenever we’re in public? Or is he going to tell me he’ll kill me if I even think about getting you pregnant?”

“He’ll probably make you come home to have lunch with my family and only speak Spanish,” you tried not to laugh but couldn’t help yourself. “And trust me, you don’t want to be in that position because you’ll have all my aunts, and there are quite a few of them, right next to you, asking you some very uncomfortable questions.”

“Then we’ll have to tell him as soon as possible so he can prepare. How about I tell him that I’m absolutely and completely in love with his daughter?”

You shot him a glare, panic flooding your insides at the thought of that happening.

“No, don’t you dare do that, Osc, and especially not here. You have no idea how my dad would react if…”

“Why not?” He interrupted. Then, he stopped, and after a few seconds that felt like an eternity to you, he seemed to finally find the courage to speak: “I could tell him something like… ¡Señor Pérez, estoy saliendo con su hija porque además de ser la mejor mujer de este mundo, me hace la persona más feliz del mundo!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, filled with emotion inside at Oscar’s sweet yet innocent declaration of love aloud.

However, a cough behind you made you snap back to reality.

“Can I know what you’re doing with my daughter, Piastri?”

You both slowly turned around. There, standing before you, was Checo, arms crossed, with a very unfriendly look on his face. You swore that if Oscar walked out of there alive and without a reprimand from your overprotective father, he could do whatever he wanted for the rest of the year.

“Well…” Oscar began, his confidence suddenly disappearing.

“Esto no es lo que parece, te lo juro,” you said in Spanish, trying to calm your father, even though you knew your attempts would be in vain.

“Oh, really?” Checo asked, raising an eyebrow, knowing you were both lying. “Then, what explanation do you have for this kid shouting to the four winds in almost perfect Spanish that he’s in love with you? At least that’s what I understood, if my Spanish doesn’t fail me.”

You were about to reply, but instead, Oscar gently took you by the wrist and stepped forward, surprisingly confident.

“Checo, I’m not playing around. Okay, I was joking about that, but not about what it means… like…” Piastri explained slowly, nerves eating at him as he couldn’t bring himself to look Checo in the face. “Your daughter matters to me, well, like… you know, like a boyfriend cares for his girlfriend.”

Checo tried not to laugh at the declaration of love from the man who had just confirmed he was his son-in-law and did his best to maintain the protective fatherly composure, thinking no guy would ever be good enough for his daughter.

“So you care about my daughter… You, one of my coworkers, a twenty-three-year-old kid, care about my eldest daughter enough to believe you can have a relationship with her…”

“It’s not that I believe it, it’s that I know I do.”

Not only you and Checo were surprised by the boy’s words, but Oscar himself too. He regretted it immediately, but before he could apologize to Checo, the man stepped forward, raising a hand and staring at him:

“So… are you two dating or not?”

“Yes, for almost six months now,” you answered, feeling a knot in your stomach, but much less pressure now that your father knew the truth.

Checo sighed, running a hand over his face as he tried to process the news his daughter, his little girl, had just told him. The girl he knew ever since she was born and now he had to imagine her spending, if not the rest of her life, at least part of it, with another man.

“And why didn’t you tell me before?” Checo asked, his voice tinged with disappointment but also some understanding. “Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I knew you would react badly,” you answered, frustrated. “I trust you, and I know you want to protect me from any guy who could make me feel bad, but you have to understand that I’m twenty years old, and whether you like it or not, I’m not a little girl anymore.”

Checo looked at you and then turned his gaze to Oscar, who had his head down. Besides his nerves being pretty evident, so was his willingness to face any kind of dispute or reprimand from him just to stay with you.

That made Checo feel a bit bad, though it also gave him some relief seeing that the Australian was truly concerned and, why not say it, in love, willing to do anything for his little Y/N.

Finally, he let out a small sigh, trying to calm himself. He repeated your words over and over in his mind before saying anything else because if you had never disappointed him in your life, then he didn’t want to disappoint you just because you were in love.

I’m not a little girl anymore.

“Checo…” Piastri spoke, but Checo raised a finger, silencing him instantly.

“I’m only going to say this once: you better not hurt my daughter, or I’ll hurt you when I kick you off the track or crash into you accidentally. Is that clear?”

Oscar swallowed hard, feeling that Checo wasn’t joking.

“Understood…”

“And as for you,” Checo now spoke to you, completely stunned, “don’t think this is over. Your mother, you, and I will have a conversation about this and several other topics when we get home.”

Unprotected wild sex, alcohol, and drugs, for sure, you thought, forcing a smile to try to hide your worry.

“Now go on and keep loving each other, but be careful where and how you do it. I don’t want to be a grandfather just yet.”

With those words, Checo left, leaving you both.

“Well… now he knows. Finally,” Oscar said, letting out a sigh of relief.

“I told you he was intense. Do you believe me now?”

“Of course, mi amor,” the Australian replied, taking your hand and heading to your room in the McLaren motorhome, so, as Checo had said, you wouldn’t become grandparents just yet. “Your dad scared me, but I’m not going to lie to you, he gave me enough motivation to beat him in every race from now on.”

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rootedinrevisions · 4 months ago

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Better Late Than Never

SUMMARY: After years of friendship and one too many broken promises, Glen realizes he might lose the person who means the most to him. As he works to prove he’s ready to be the man she deserves, she wrestles with whether to risk her heart on the one person who’s been there all along.

The actress named is an OC that I gave a random name to. She is not based on any real life actresses or any co-stars Glen has ever been asscoiated or worked with. Just a random OC for the purpose of the story.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in. I am so sorry it's taken literally months to get this written. I hope it's worth the wait and that you enjoy it!

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think! I love seeing your comments, reblogs, and thoughts/feedback on my writing!

WORD COUNT: 11.1k

TAGS: In Comments.

The smell of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee greeted you as you stepped into the cozy café, escaping the brisk December chill. The place was buzzing with holiday cheer—soft jazz versions of Christmas carols played in the background, and twinkling lights were strung across the windows. You tugged your scarf loose as your eyes scanned the room.

And then you saw him.

Glen was seated at a small table near the back, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he scrolled through his phone. His hair was messier than usual, a few strands falling onto his forehead, and he was dressed down in a flannel shirt and jeans, looking every bit like the guy you grew up with rather than the Hollywood star the rest of the world saw.

As if sensing your gaze, he looked up, and his face lit up with a grin that made your heart stutter. He stood, opening his arms wide.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite munchkin,” he teased, using the nickname he’d given you in high school.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face as you walked toward him. “Still holding on to that old nickname, huh?”

“Always.” His voice was warm, and before you could protest, he wrapped you in a bear hug, lifting you slightly off the ground. “Wouldn’t call you it if you weren’t so short.”

You laughed as he set you down, the sound muffled against his chest. “It’s good to see you,” you said, looking up at him once he released you.

“Good to see you too,” he replied, his smile softening as he held your gaze. “It’s been way too long.”

The two of you settled into your seats, the café’s warmth and the hum of conversation making it feel like no time had passed at all. Glen slid your drink across the table—a latte, just the way you liked it.

“You remembered?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course. You’re predictable,” he teased, winking. “Although I almost got you a peppermint mocha just to mess with you.”

“Ha, ha,” you said dryly, taking a sip of your drink. It was perfect, of course. “So, what brings you back to Austin? Don’t you have some big premiere to attend or a magazine spread to shoot?”

“Please,” Glen said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s Christmas. Had to come home for the holidays.”

“True,” you said, glancing out the window where people bustled by, their arms full of shopping bags and scarves wrapped tightly against the wind. “Austin does Christmas pretty well. Even without snow.”

Glen smirked. “You’re still holding out for that miracle snowstorm, huh?”

“A girl can dream,” you shot back with a grin.

The conversation drifted easily, filled with updates about his work, your job, and mutual friends. It wasn’t until you mentioned your upcoming birthday that his playful expression turned more serious.

“So,” you said, casually swirling the foam in your cup with your spoon, “my birthday’s in a couple of weeks. You still think you’ll be able to be here?”

His brow furrowed for a moment, as if the thought of missing it hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Of course I’ll be here. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“Really?” you asked, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

Glen leaned forward, his expression earnest. “You’ve been there for every big moment in my life. There’s no way I’m skipping yours.”

A warmth spread through your chest, and you quickly glanced down at your drink to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “Well, in that case, you’re invited to my very fancy celebration.”

“Fancy, huh?” His lips quirked into a grin.

“Super fancy,” you said with a smirk. “We’re talking margaritas, tacos, maybe a dive bar. Real high-class stuff.”

Glen’s grin fell as his face scrunched up in mock horror. “Please don’t tell me we’re spending your birthday at that awful dive bar on South Congress.”

You burst out laughing. “What, you don’t miss sticky floors and karaoke with questionable sound systems?”

He shook his head, leaning back in his chair with a dramatic sigh. “I’m just saying, with a couple of phone calls, I could get us into literally any place in Austin. Rooftop bars, private clubs—your pick.”

You rolled your eyes. “And spend the night dodging people trying to take selfies with you? No, thanks. Besides, you know those fancy rooftop bars aren’t my style.”

Glen chuckled, his playful grin returning. “Fine, munchkin. Dive bars and tacos it is. But don’t come crying to me when someone tries to serenade you with a terrible rendition of ‘Don’t Stop Believin’.’”

You smirked, raising your cup in a mock toast. “It wouldn’t be my birthday without it. Besides, it’s not about where we are. It’s about the people I’m with. My favorite people, to be specific.”

Glen pointed his spoon at you, smirking. “You really don’t have to keep buttering me up, you know. I already told you I’m coming. Whole weekend, no distractions. I’m all yours.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into your expression. “No distractions, huh? Not even work?”

He held a hand to his chest in mock offense. “What kind of friend do you think I am? I told my team: no calls, no events. You get my undivided attention. Pinky promise.”

He held out his pinky, and you laughed despite yourself, hooking your own around his. His hand was warm, and the contact lingered just a little longer than necessary before he pulled away.

“You better not bail on me, Powell,” you warned playfully, but there was a faint edge to your voice.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his expression softening. “You’ve been there for me through every big moment in my life. I’m not missing yours.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and you quickly glanced down at your drink, trying to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks. It wasn’t fair how easily he could make your heart skip a beat without even trying.

“Now, tell me about this party. How many people are we talking? And how many of them are single?” Glen said, flashing you a wink.

You rolled your eyes, smirking. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, you still put up with me.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to fade away. It was just the two of you, laughing and teasing like you always had, but the thought lingered in the back of your mind: maybe, just maybe, you wanted more.

* * * * *

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Your room was a mess of clothes—sweaters, jeans, and dresses strewn across the bed in a chaotic attempt to find the perfect outfit. You stood in front of the mirror, holding up a navy blue dress, then tossed it onto the growing pile with a sigh.

“Too dressy,” you muttered to yourself, reaching for a soft cream sweater instead.

Dinner with Glen wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, but still, you wanted to look nice. It wasn’t every day you got one-on-one time with him, especially since his life seemed to revolve around premieres, photoshoots, and packed schedules. Tonight, though—it was just supposed to be the two of you. A low-key dinner, catching up like old times.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you out of your thoughts. You glanced at the screen and saw Glen’s name pop up, a text notification lighting up the room. Smiling, you grabbed the phone, already anticipating something cheeky or playful.

Instead, your smile faltered as you read the message:

GLEN: Hey, I’m so sorry, but something came up, and I can’t make it to dinner tonight. I’ll definitely be there for the party tomorrow, though. Promise."

Your chest tightened, and you reread the text, hoping you’d somehow misunderstood. But there it was, plain as day. He wasn’t coming.

You sank down onto the edge of your bed, staring at the message. A flicker of disappointment stirred in your chest, and you tried to push it down. It wasn’t like he’d done this on purpose. Glen was busy—always busy. You knew that.

Still, tonight had felt different. It wasn’t just any dinner; it was the start of your birthday weekend, and it had been his idea to plan something special just the two of you to start the weekend off.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. You didn’t want to come off as upset, even if you were.

Finally, you typed: No worries. I’ll see you tomorrow!

You added a smiley face at the end, hoping it would mask the sting of disappointment.

Glen’s reply came almost instantly: Thanks for understanding. I owe you one. Tomorrow’s going to be amazing—I promise!

You set your phone down and exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the letdown. It wasn’t the end of the world. You still had tomorrow, and it wasn’t like you weren’t able to make other plans tonight. Maybe you’d text a friend and see if they wanted to grab a drink or hang out.

But even as you stood up and started putting the clothes back into your closet, the nagging feeling lingered. Glen had been your best friend since forever, and deep down, you’d hoped tonight would feel like old times again—just you and him, laughing over tacos and margaritas like nothing had changed.

As you finished hanging up the last of your clothes, your phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t a text—just a notification from Instagram. You picked it up, your thumb mindlessly tapping the app out of habit.

The screen lit up with familiar photos from friends, coworkers, and influencers. You scrolled past a shot of someone’s latte art and a blurry concert video before something caught your eye.

It was Glen. The photo, posted by a good friend of Glen was unmistakable: Glen, standing in the corner of a lavish party, his arm casually slung around her.

The caption read, "Celebrating with the one and only @GlenPowell and the incomparable @AlannaNorris at her wrap party tonight! 🎬✨"

Your heart sank.

You tapped on the image, zooming in despite yourself. Glen looked every bit the part of Hollywood star—broad smile, hair perfectly tousled, a drink in hand. And then there was Alanna Norris, the co-star he’d been talking about for months. She looked just as radiant as she did on screen: long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing a dress that seemed to shimmer even in the dim lighting of the party.

Your thumb hovered over the screen as you stared, frozen.

“Seriously?” you whispered to yourself, the word sharp in the silence of your room.

You clicked over to Glen’s profile, hoping—praying—it wasn’t what it looked like. But there it was again, a short video he’d just posted to his story.

The camera panned across a glittering rooftop, strings of fairy lights glowing against the New York skyline. Glen’s laugh echoed in the background as he toasted with a group of people, Alanna sitting right beside him, leaning into his shoulder like they’d known each other forever.

Your stomach twisted.So this was what had "come up."

You locked your phone and tossed it onto the bed, the dull thud breaking the heavy silence in the room.

It wasn’t just the fact that he’d canceled on you for some Hollywood event. It was because it was her. Alanna, the gorgeous, talented, larger-than-life actress Glen had gushed about every chance he got. You’d listened to him talk about her on phone calls, how brilliant she was, how hilarious, how effortlessly cool.

And now, she wasn’t just a co-star. She was at the center of his world tonight.

You sank onto the bed, feeling a lump rise in your throat. It wasn’t like you could compete with someone like that. You were just... you. The girl Glen had known since middle school. The one who knew all his secrets, his quirks, his favorite stupid jokes. But suddenly, that didn’t feel like enough.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you rested your chin on them, trying to push the image out of your head. Tomorrow was your party. Tomorrow, Glen would be there, and everything would be fine.

* * * * *

THE NEXT DAY

The next morning, the sound of your alarm pulled you from restless sleep. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, but the heaviness from last night hadn’t lifted. Today was supposed to be a good day—a celebration. You tried to focus on that as you showered and got dressed, slipping into a casual outfit for your plans with the girls.

By mid-morning, you were seated in a cozy pedicure chair at your favorite spa, surrounded by the laughter and chatter of your closest friends. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air, and the soothing warmth of the foot soak should have been relaxing. Should have.

“You’re quiet today,” Maggie said, glancing at you over the top of her magazine. She was seated in the chair next to yours, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. “That’s not like you. What’s going on?”

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing. Just tired, I guess.”

“Uh-huh.” Maggie raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Girl, you’ve been off all morning,” your other friend Taylor chimed in from across the row, her toes painted a vibrant red. “Spill it. What’s wrong? Is it birthday stress?”

“It’s nothing, really,” you said, avoiding their eyes.

Maggie closed her magazine with a snap and leaned closer. “Liar. Something’s up, and we’re not letting you out of here until you tell us.”

You hesitated, your stomach twisting. The last thing you wanted was to drag your friends into your Glen drama. But as the silence stretched, their expectant looks wore you down.

With a sigh, you finally admitted, “Glen canceled dinner last night.”

“What?” Maggie looked genuinely surprised. “Why?”

You bit your lip, debating how much to say. “He said something came up... but then I saw on Instagram that he was at a party for Alanna Norris.”

Taylor let out a low whistle. “Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, staring at the bubbling water swirling around your feet.

Maggie gave you a pointed look. “Wait. You’re upset because Glen ditched dinner, or because he ditched dinner for her?”

“I’m upset because he canceled, period,” you said quickly, a little too quickly.

“Uh-huh,” Maggie said again, her voice dripping with skepticism. “Come on, we’re not blind. You’ve been into Glen for years. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Your cheeks flushed. “I’m not... It’s not like that.”

“Oh, please,” Taylor said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve had heart eyes for that man since high school. And now he’s a big-shot actor, and you’re still acting like he’s just your childhood best friend. It’s obvious to everyone but you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Maggie cut you off. “Look, we get it. You’re hurt. And yeah, him blowing off dinner for Alanna is a crappy move. But you know Glen—he wouldn’t miss your party for anything. He loves you, even if he’s too dumb to realize how he loves you.”

Taylor nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Don’t let this ruin your weekend. You’re amazing, and tonight’s about celebrating you. If Glen has half a brain, he’ll show up and spend the whole night groveling.”

You let out a small laugh despite yourself, grateful for their attempts to cheer you up. “Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime,” Maggie said, leaning back in her chair as the nail technician started painting her toes. “Now, let’s focus on the important stuff. What are you wearing tonight?”

The afternoon passed in a blur of laughter and pampering, and by the time you and the girls left the salon, your nails gleaming and your spirits lifted, the tension from earlier had eased. The golden glow of the setting sun filtered through the car windows as Maggie drove you all back to your place, the playlist of nostalgic throwbacks you’d put together for the weekend blaring through the speakers.

By the time you stepped through your front door, the mood had shifted to one of excited anticipation. The smell of vanilla candles filled your apartment, mingling with the faint scent of perfume and hair spray as you and the girls scattered to your respective corners to finish getting ready.

“Are you sure about this outfit?” you called from your room, stepping into the hallway in your dress. The shimmering fabric caught the light, hugging your figure just enough to make you feel elegant, but not over the top.

Taylor popped her head out of the bathroom, her lips lined perfectly in a bold red. “Girl, yes. You look amazing. Stop overthinking.”

Maggie appeared behind her, fluffing her curls. “She’s right. You’re the birthday girl—own it.”

You smiled, turning back to the mirror to smooth down the dress and fasten the delicate bracelet Maggie had given you earlier as a gift. The room buzzed with energy as you applied the final touches—adding a swipe of gloss to your lips, slipping into heels that clicked lightly against the hardwood floor, and making sure everything was just right.

As the clock ticked closer to party time, you took a deep breath and glanced at your friends. “Okay, how do I look?”

Taylor gave you an approving once-over. “Like a total knockout.”

“And like someone who’s about to have the best birthday ever,” Maggie added with a grin.

You laughed, feeling their support buoying you. Whatever happened tonight, one thing was certain: you wouldn’t face it alone.

* * * * *

The hum of conversation and clinking glasses surrounded you as you sat at the long table, margarita in hand, trying to match your friends’ enthusiasm. The restaurant was buzzing, its warm lighting casting a golden glow over the colorful decor. Everyone you invited had arrived, chatting and laughing, and the margaritas flowed freely.

Everyone except for Glen.

You glanced at the empty seat next to you, the one you’d saved for him. Twenty minutes had passed since the reservation time, and while you’d tried to hold on to optimism, your patience was wearing thin.

The waiter approached again, balancing a notepad in one hand and a practiced smile on his face. “Are we ready to order, or would you like a little more time?”

You hesitated, glancing at your phone for what felt like the hundredth time. The screen lit up with no new notifications, just the same string of unread messages you’d sent Glen earlier.

YOU: Hey, are you on your way?

YOU: We’re already here!

YOU: Everything okay?

With a sigh, you set the phone face down on the table and nodded to the waiter. “We’re ready to order.”

As everyone began calling out their selections, your mind wandered. Glen had canceled dinner with you last night, and now he was a no-show for your birthday dinner without even a text to explain. You tried to shake off the pang of disappointment creeping into your chest, but it lingered. You couldn’t help but wonder how much you really meant to him if he couldn’t be bothered to show up for this.

The waiter left with your table’s orders, but the mood around you was still light and cheerful—at least for everyone else. You swirled the straw in your margarita, staring at the melting ice as your friends chatted around you.

You glanced down at your phone again, lighting up the screen. Still nothing. Your chest tightened with a mix of frustration and disappointment.

“Okay, that’s it,” Maggie said suddenly, pulling your attention away from your phone. She folded her arms, giving you a knowing look. “Hand it over.”

“What?” you blinked, startled.

“Your phone. Give it to me.” Maggie held out her hand, her expression leaving no room for argument.

You frowned, clutching your phone tighter. “Maggie, come on, I’m fine. I’m just—”

“Obsessing,” she interrupted. “You’re obsessing, and it’s driving you crazy. Glen’s not here, and if you spend the rest of the night staring at your phone, waiting for him to magically show up, you’re going to miss all the fun. So, hand it over.”

Taylor leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she watched you with an amused smile. “She’s got a point. You’re spiraling, babe.”

You let out a sigh, holding your phone against your chest. “He probably got caught up with something. You know how busy he is—he’s always working or—”

“Or going to parties for his co-stars,” Maggie cut in, her tone sharper than before. “Yeah, we know. And yet somehow, he still managed to ditch your birthday dinner. I’m sorry, but that’s not okay.”

Taylor raised her eyebrows, backing her up. “Mags is right. This isn’t about work, and you know it. You don’t need to make excuses for him.”

You hesitated, the sting of their words hitting harder than you expected. “I’m not making excuses,” you said quietly, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

“Babe, you are,” Maggie said, her tone softening slightly. “I get it, okay? You care about him. But he’s not here. And we are. So stop letting him ruin your night and let me take the damn phone.”

You bit your lip, glancing between Maggie’s outstretched hand and your phone. The last thing you wanted was to let Glen off the hook, but part of you still hoped he’d show up. That maybe he had a good reason for being late. That maybe—

“Mags is right,” Taylor said, leaning back in her chair with a sigh, crossing her arms in a way that said she wasn’t budging on this. “You need to forget about him for now. Besides, you know he’s going to show up tomorrow and flash that stupid grin of his, and you’ll forgive him in a second.”

The words hit harder than expected, and a small laugh escaped from the table, though it wasn’t as lighthearted as it should’ve been. Everyone was looking at you, their eyes full of sympathy, but the teasing tone only made you feel more exposed. Your face flushed, and you fiddled with the edge of your napkin, not wanting to meet their eyes.

“I don’t—” you started, but your voice wavered.

You didn’t want to admit it out loud, but deep down, you knew Taylor was probably right. You’d forgiven him before. The way he could flash that charming smile, act like nothing happened, and suddenly, all would be forgiven. You hated that it worked on you, every time.

Maggie raised her eyebrows at you, a knowing smile on her face. “What? You think we don’t see it? Girl, you always forgive him.” She leaned forward, her hands clasped together on the table as she tilted her head, her tone softening a little. “You care about him, but right now, he's not here. And you deserve better than waiting around for someone who’s too busy to show up for you on your birthday.”

You didn’t have a response for that, not immediately. Part of you wanted to defend him, explain that there had to be a reason, but then you realized—he hadn’t even sent a text. Not a word, not a single message to let you know he was running late.

“You know, you’re right,” you said quietly, the sting of the truth washing over you like a cold wave. “I always forgive him, no matter how much he lets me down.” You forced a laugh, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

Maggie’s smile softened, and she nudged you gently with her shoulder. “Because you want to see the best in him. But right now? You need to let go and stop thinking about him. Just for tonight.”

Taylor, always the playful one, smirked and added, “Let’s be real here. He’s gonna show up tomorrow, all sorry and sweet, and you’re gonna melt, like you always do.” She winked.

That earned another small laugh from the rest of the table, but you felt your cheeks burn. You could feel the heat rise up your neck, the familiar twinge of embarrassment that always crept in when they were right.

“I’m not that predictable,” you mumbled, even though you knew it wasn’t true. Your friends had seen you with Glen enough times to know exactly how you’d react.

“You are, and it’s adorable,” Maggie said with a smirk. “But for now, let me take care of this for you.” Before you could protest, Maggie reached over and snatched your phone out of your hands with the speed of a ninja, tucking it safely into her purse before you even had a chance to stop her.

“Hey!” you protested, reaching out instinctively. “That’s mine!”

Maggie looked at you, her expression all business. “Not anymore, it’s not. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” She grinned, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “We’re here to celebrate you, not him. So, no more phone checking, no more waiting around. Tonight is about you, birthday girl.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, a part of you appreciated her determination. The thought of not having that distraction tugging at you was oddly comforting.

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’ll try to have fun. But if he doesn’t show up tomorrow—”

Maggie held up her hands in mock surrender. “Don’t worry. We’ll deal with that when it comes. For now, focus on the people who are actually here, okay?”

Taylor raised her glass. “Exactly! We’re going to make sure you forget about him. For tonight, you get to be the center of attention.”

A slow smile crept across your face as you lifted your own glass. “I guess I can get on board with that.”

And just like that, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. But even as they joked around, you couldn’t help but wonder: Would you really be able to forget about him?

The night had shifted. After a couple of drinks, some terrible karaoke performances, and endless rounds of laughter that made your stomach ache, you finally felt yourself beginning to relax.

The weight of Glen’s no-show was still there, lingering like a stubborn cloud, but your friends had done a good job of distracting you. You sat at the back of the dive bar in a cozy booth, the group of friends scattered around you, making the most of your birthday despite the slight disappointment that had marred the night.

“Okay, but if you’re telling me that was your best dance move, I might need to revoke your birthday privileges,” Taylor teased, nudging you with her elbow as she leaned back in the booth. She was a little tipsy now, her cheeks flushed and her grin wide. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ll have you know that was art,” you teased back, rolling your eyes but feeling lighter than you had when you first arrived.

The night had gotten progressively easier to bear. It wasn’t the dinner with Glen you’d hoped for, but your friends were here, and you knew they wouldn’t let you wallow for long. You took another sip of your drink and leaned back, letting yourself enjoy the music, the chatter, and the familiar, laid-back vibe of the dive bar. It was the kind of place where time seemed to stand still, and no one cared what anyone else was doing.

Just as you were about to reply to another one of Taylor’s jokes, you noticed Maggie was starting to make her way to the bar, probably to grab another round. You were about to call out to her when your gaze shifted, locking onto a figure that made your heart skip.

Glen.

You could see him scanning the room, his tall frame immediately standing out from the crowd. He was wearing that familiar smirk, the one that made you feel both crazy and happy at the same time. Your stomach tightened, and even though you were trying to enjoy the night, the disappointment washed over you again.

But then, something unexpected happened. Maggie, who’d been walking toward the bar, paused as she caught sight of Glen. Without missing a beat, she took a few steps toward him, intercepting his path just before he could make it toward your table. You could see her arms cross, her posture shifting into one of those rare, no-nonsense stances she had when she was about to call someone out.

You couldn’t hear the conversation from across the room, but you could see the way Glen’s smile faltered as Maggie leaned in. Her body language was firm, her expression serious. Glen’s hands went up, trying to appease her, but Maggie wasn’t backing down.

After a few moments of what seemed like intense conversation, Maggie pointed over her shoulder toward your booth. Glen glanced over, his gaze immediately landing on you. His face softened, but Maggie quickly cut him off, saying something else before gesturing toward the door.

GLEN’S P.O.V.

Glen was halfway to the booth when something—or someone—stopped him cold. He turned to see Maggie, of all people, standing in his path, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. She didn’t look pleased.

“Look, I get it,” he started, trying to brush past her with a smile, but she was having none of it.

“Do you?” Maggie’s voice was sharp, her tone cutting through the music and chatter of the bar. She didn’t give him an inch, holding her ground.

“Yeah,” he said, his smile faltering. He had hoped tonight would go smoother, but as soon as he bailed on dinner last night, he knew he was going to have to face this. “I know I messed up, okay? But it wasn’t like I didn’t want to be there—things just...came up.”

Maggie didn’t flinch, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. “You know better than this, Glen,” she said, voice firm. “She’s been waiting for you, and you cancel on her, then don’t even bother to show up for her dinner tonight. You can’t just waltz in here like nothing happened.”

Glen’s gaze softened. He could feel his stomach twist with guilt. He should’ve been there for you—he knew that. But in the back of his mind, he was still rationalizing everything, trying to make it make sense.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I swear, I’ll make it right. Just—let me talk to her.”

Maggie’s eyes narrowed further, and she leaned in, lowering her voice as if she wanted only him to hear. “She better have your full attention tonight, or you can turn around and leave. No excuses, no more half-assed apologies. She’s been let down enough by you already.” Glen opened his mouth to respond, but Maggie wasn’t finished. She jabbed a finger toward the door, a clear, no-nonsense gesture that left no room for negotiation. “You get it right tonight, or I’ll make sure she never gives you another chance.”

Glen’s stomach dropped, the weight of Maggie’s words sinking in. He was used to being the charming, smooth-talking guy who could talk his way out of things. But this? This was different. Maggie wasn’t just looking out for her friend—she was looking out for someone who deserved better than his latest screw-up.

“Alright,” Glen said, nodding, his voice tight. “I get it.”

Maggie gave a single, sharp nod, satisfied, before turning on her heel. Glen watched her walk back to the table and, for the first time all night, felt the real pressure of the situation. He couldn’t screw this up again. Not with you. Not tonight.

He swallowed hard, steeling himself for what came next.

YOUR P.O.V. AGAIN

Maggie came back to your table just moments later, her face a mix of amusement and mild annoyance.

“Well,” she said, dropping into the booth next to you, “he knows he’s going to have some explaining to do. But I think he got the message.”

You blinked at her, trying to mask the surge of conflicting emotions that had hit you all at once. “What did you say to him?”

Maggie took a long sip of her drink, not missing a beat. “Told him it’s not cool to bail on you like that, especially not when you’re trying to celebrate your birthday.”

You stared at her, a little wide-eyed, unsure if you should feel relieved or mad. Part of you felt grateful for Maggie’s boldness in standing up for you, but another part felt like you should’ve been the one to confront him. But that didn’t matter now.

“Well,” Taylor said from across the booth, glancing over at you with a grin, “at least he knows he has to earn his way back into the birthday girl’s good graces. If he’s smart, he’ll make tonight all about you. And then maybe he’ll show up tomorrow with a damn good explanation—and maybe a gift.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the weight in your chest starting to lighten. You weren’t sure what was going to happen with Glen. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to happen.

Glen took a deep breath, steeling himself as he made his way toward your booth. His heart hammered in his chest, his mind racing with a mix of regret and nervous anticipation. The guilt from the previous night was still fresh, but this—this was his chance to make things right.

As Glen neared the booth, your eyes locked onto his. You straightened your posture, resisting the urge to immediately brighten at the sight of him. Instead, you leaned back slightly, arms crossed, attempting to project an air of indifference.

"Decided to show up, huh?" you quipped, your tone light but edged with subtle annoyance.

Glen paused, his lips tugging into that familiar, crooked smile—the one that always seemed to chip away at your resolve. “Of course I did,” he replied smoothly, his voice warm but tinged with something softer, almost hesitant. “You didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun without me, did you?”

You raised an eyebrow, determined not to let him off the hook so easily. “Could’ve fooled me,” you shot back, your words casual but pointed. “I mean, you’re only—what? Several hours late?”

The flicker of guilt in his expression gave you a small sense of satisfaction, but before you could revel in it, Glen crossed the final steps to you and, without warning, wrapped you in a bone-crushing hug.

“Wait—Glen, I—” you started to protest, but the words dissolved as his arms tightened around you, pulling you against him. His embrace was warm, firm, and so familiar that it disarmed every wall you’d been trying to build in those few seconds. Despite yourself, you melted into him, your hands sliding up to rest against his back, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

The scent of him washed over you, and you felt your resolve crumble. There was a comfort in his presence, a steady reassurance that you didn’t realize how much you’d missed until now.

“I’m sorry,” Glen murmured, his voice low and close to your ear. “I shouldn’t have missed dinner. I shouldn’t have been late. That was on me, and I know I messed up.”

You wanted to stay annoyed, to hold onto the frustration that had simmered since the night before, but the sincerity in his tone—paired with the way his arms tightened around you like he couldn’t bear to let go—made it impossible.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. “I mean it,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “I’ve put my phone on Do Not Disturb. Tonight is all about you, and I’m not going to screw it up again. No distractions, no excuses. Just you.”

For a moment, you stared at him, torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to pull him closer. “You’ve got a lot to make up for,” you muttered, your voice lacking the bite you’d intended.

“I know. And I promise I will.”

He gave you a quick squeeze before letting go, and you couldn’t help but feel the absence of his warmth as he stepped back, his smile now tinged with that boyish charm that always made it hard to stay mad at him.

With a small, tentative smile, you sat back down, Glen following suit as he slid into the booth beside you. His presence was comforting now, though the distance between the two of you would take some time to bridge fully.

It didn’t take long for your friends to start giving him a bit of a hard time, teasing him about how long it had taken him to show up. But he took it all in stride, shrugging with that playful grin of his that had always been hard to resist. He made light of the situation, joking that Maggie had given him a “talk” that was definitely more intimidating than any red carpet interview he’d ever done. The table erupted in laughter, and you couldn’t help but chuckle too.

Glen fit in like he’d always been a part of the group. He didn’t just charm you—he charmed everyone. Your friends, the boyfriends, the husbands—everyone seemed at ease with him, and for the first time tonight, you felt a bit of the tension dissolve. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good. You were starting to enjoy yourself again.

“You know,” Maggie said, her voice cutting through the chatter as she leaned toward you, “I never thought I’d see the day, but I think Glen’s actually winning me over.” Her teasing smile made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t deny that there was something endearing about the way he was engaging with everyone.

Glen grinned, clearly pleased by the compliment. “Well, I aim to please,” he said smoothly, sending a wink Maggie’s way before turning to Taylor’s boyfriend, Lucas, who had just shared a funny story about a mishap at work. Glen jumped right into the conversation, laughing along with the group, and before long, the entire table was at ease, chatting, laughing, and passing around drinks.

As the evening progressed, your glass had been refilled a few times, and the warmth from the drinks had made you a little looser, more relaxed. But you could feel the buzz starting to hit you, the tipsy weight settling in, and you knew it was probably time to call it a night soon.

A voice from the other side of the table broke through your thoughts. “Another round, anyone?” Lucas asked, his hand raised toward the bartender.

You smiled but shook your head, giving a small chuckle. “I think I’m good for now,” you said, but your voice was a bit more playful than you intended. “I need to slow down if I’m getting myself home tonight.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Glen’s gaze snapped to you. His brow furrowed for a moment before his lips curled into a smirk. “Oh no, no, no,” he said, shaking his head as he placed his hand on your arm in a gentle but firm way. “Not happening. I’m not letting you drive after all that tequila. I’m driving you home tonight.”

Your eyes widened for a moment, surprised at his sudden offer. “You’re taking me home?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “

“Yeah, me.” Glen replied smoothly, his voice playful. “I’ll make sure you get home safe and sound.”

You glanced over at your friends, who were all nodding in agreement, clearly amused by Glen’s sudden shift into ‘knight in shining armor.’ You couldn’t help but smile a little, the warmth from the alcohol making the whole situation feel lighter.

“Alright, fine,” you said with a sigh, giving him a playful look.

The night had started winding down, the boisterous laughter and endless rounds of drinks giving way to softer conversations and a general sense of contentment. You leaned back in the booth, your cheeks warm from the tequila and the laughter that had filled the evening. The air in the bar felt a little heavier now, and you knew it was time to call it a night.

Maggie glanced at her phone and let out a low whistle. “Alright, it’s officially way past my bedtime,” she said, sliding out of the booth. “You’re lucky we love you, or I wouldn’t still be out at this hour.”

You grinned at her, your head buzzing just enough to make your movements feel slower. “I appreciate your sacrifice, Mags.”

One by one, your friends began gathering their things, exchanging hugs and goodbyes. Glen stood off to the side, his hands in his pockets, patiently waiting while you said your farewells.

Taylor, always the protective one, lingered a little longer. She turned toward Glen, her expression a mix of playful and serious. “You’d better take care of her, Hollywood” she said, jabbing a finger in his direction.

Glen raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin on his face. “I’ve got her.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes at him, clearly still skeptical, but you stepped in before she could say anything else. “Taylor, I’m fine. He’s fine. Stop trying to scare him.”

“I don’t scare that easily,” Glen quipped, but his tone was lighthearted, and even Taylor cracked a smile as she gave you one last hug.

With the goodbyes finally wrapped up, you turned back toward Glen, feeling a little unsteady on your feet as you grabbed your jacket.

“Okay, let’s go,” you said, your voice softer now, the buzz of the evening starting to settle into a tired warmth.

Glen didn’t say a word, just stepped closer and gently placed his arm around your shoulders. The gesture felt surprisingly natural, his hand resting lightly as he steered you toward the door. You could feel the heat of his touch through the fabric of your jacket, grounding you as the two of you walked out of the bar.

The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, and you breathed it in deeply, relishing the way it sobered you just slightly. Glen’s arm stayed firmly around you as he led you to his truck parked just down the block.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, glancing down at you, his voice soft against the quiet of the night.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, I did,” you admitted, your voice a little hazy but sincere. “Even if you did crash the party.”

He chuckled, his grip on you tightening just slightly as if to steady you. “Is it crashing when I was invited?”

“It is when you show up late. Maggie had basically uninvited you, you know?”

Glen laughed softly, the sound warm and deep in the stillness of the night. “Maggie never liked me much anyway,” he teased. “Pretty sure she was just looking for an excuse.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “That’s because she thinks you’re too cocky for your own good.”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Well, she’s not wrong. But if memory serves, you kind of like that about me.”

You snorted, pretending to be unimpressed, but your smile gave you away. “Maybe I’ve just gotten used to it.”

Glen stopped walking for a moment, pulling you gently to a halt as well. His hand slid from your arm to your lower back, steadying you as you swayed slightly on your feet. “Used to it, huh?” he murmured, his tone playfully skeptical. “Guess I’ll take that as a win.”

You glanced up at him, the soft glow of a streetlamp illuminating the curve of his jaw and the faint stubble dusting his skin. “Don’t let it go to your head,” you warned, though the faint smile tugging at your lips betrayed the sharpness of your words.

He grinned, leaning in just enough to close the distance between you. “Too late.”

Before you could respond, he began walking again, his arm still snug around your waist. The rhythm of your steps fell into an easy cadence, and the quiet between you felt comforting rather than awkward.

As his truck came into view, Glen broke the silence. “So, Maggie’s got her opinions about me,” he said, his tone light but curious. “What about you? Think I’m too cocky for my own good?”

You glanced at him sideways, your expression caught somewhere between teasing and genuine. “I think you’re...” You trailed off, pretending to give it serious thought. “Complicated.”

“Complicated?” He raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “That’s not exactly glowing praise.”

“It’s not an insult either,” you countered, shrugging. “It just means you’ve got layers.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You make me sound like an onion.”

You laughed, your voice light and unguarded. “Maybe. But onions can be sweet, too.”

By the time you reached the truck, Glen had that playful smirk back on his face, but there was something softer in his gaze as he looked at you. He opened the passenger door, his hand brushing your arm lightly as he helped you climb in.

“Sweet, huh?” he murmured as you settled into the seat. “I’ll take that.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth blooming in your chest was impossible to ignore.

The truck came into view, and Glen pulled his arm away just long enough to open the passenger door for you. He held out his hand to help you climb in, his touch steady and warm.

“Alright,” he said once you were settled in. “Let’s get you home.”

You leaned back in the seat, your head resting lightly against the window as you watched him round the front of the truck to the driver’s side. There was something about the quiet way he moved, the care he took in making sure you were okay, that made the lingering frustration in your chest soften just a little more.

As the engine roared to life and the truck pulled away from the curb, you couldn’t help but glance over at him, a thousand thoughts swirling in your tequila-clouded mind.

The hum of the truck’s engine filled the quiet as Glen drove through the mostly empty streets, the city lights casting faint shadows on your face. You felt the tequila working its way through your system, loosening your thoughts and your tongue. The warmth in your chest wasn’t just from the alcohol—it was Glen’s presence, steady and comforting, that made you feel safer than you wanted to admit.

You glanced over at him, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. “You know something?” you said softly, your words slurring ever so slightly.

“What’s that?” Glen asked, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before returning to the road.

“I think you might be my favorite person,” you admitted, leaning your head against the window and smiling to yourself. The words felt easy, natural, like they’d been sitting on the tip of your tongue for years.

Glen let out a low chuckle, glancing at you again with an amused expression. “Your favorite person, huh? That’s a big title to hand out. What about Maggie? Or Taylor?”

You rolled your eyes, though the smile stayed on your lips. “I’m serious,” you insisted, turning your head to look at him. “You’ve always been there for me. You show up when it matters. Well, except for last night.” The teasing lilt in your voice faltered at the end, the weight of your lingering disappointment creeping back in.

Glen’s playful smirk softened, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “About last night—”

You cut him off with a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “It’s... I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said firmly, glancing at you again. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

You hesitated, your fingers twisting in your lap. The alcohol buzzed in your veins, giving you just enough courage to let the words slip out before you could stop them. “All I want is for you to look at me the way you look at her.”

Glen’s brows furrowed as he processed your words. “Her? What are you talking about?”

You huffed, leaning back against the seat and avoiding his gaze. “Alanna. Last night. You were looking at her like she hung the moon or something.”

His confusion deepened as he shook his head. “I wasn’t—wait, you saw those pictures? You think I—”

“Forget it,” you muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Glen said, his tone insistent now. He glanced at you, his voice softening. “Hey, talk to me. Please.”

You bit your lip, debating whether to keep the rest of it bottled up or just let it out. Before you could second-guess yourself, the words spilled out in a rush. “I love you, Glen.” The air in the truck seemed to still, your confession hanging heavily between you. You didn’t stop, the floodgates open now. “I love you, and I hate it. I hate that I feel this way because you’re... you’re the total package, Glen. And I’m just... me. You’re way out of my league, and it’s stupid, and I wish I didn’t feel this way, but I do.”

For a moment, Glen didn’t say anything, his silence deafening. Then, he let out a light laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, you’ve definitely had too much to drink. You’re just saying that because you’re tipsy.”

His attempt at brushing it off felt like a slap, and your chest tightened painfully. You laughed bitterly, though it sounded more like a choke. “Right. I’m just drunk.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” Glen said quickly, his tone shifting to concern.

“It’s fine,” you said sharply, turning to stare out the window, your body stiff with regret. “Just take me home. Please.”

Glen opened his mouth to say something else, but the set line of your jaw and the way you refused to look at him made him think better of it. The rest of the drive was silent, the easy warmth from earlier replaced by a tense, aching quiet.

When Glen pulled into your driveway, you were already unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for the door handle, eager to put some distance between you and the awkwardness still hanging in the air.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said quickly, your voice clipped as you stepped out of the truck. You didn’t wait for him to respond before heading toward your front door, your keys jingling in your shaky hand.

“Hey, wait up,” Glen called, catching up to you in a few long strides.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, fumbling with your keys. “You don’t need to come in. It’s late. You should go.”

Glen’s hand gently closed over yours, stilling your movements. “Hold on a second.”

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see the pity or confusion—or worse, the rejection—in his eyes.

“What?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You said you love me,” Glen said, his voice equally soft but steady. “Did you mean it?”

You let out a strained laugh, trying to tug your hand free. “Like you said, I’ve had too much to drink. Don’t read into it, okay?”

“Stop,” he said, his tone firmer now. He stepped closer, his presence warm and steady. “Don’t brush it off. I need to know. Did you mean it?”

Your throat tightened as tears prickled behind your eyes. You swallowed hard, shaking your head as if that could somehow make the whole moment disappear. But Glen wasn’t letting go—not of your hand, not of this conversation.

“Fine. Yes I meant it,” you finally bit out, your voice trembling. “I do love you. Happy now?” You felt the tears welling up, threatening to spill over as you stared down at the ground, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. “It doesn’t matter, Glen. You don’t have to say anything. Just... let’s forget this, okay?”

Glen didn’t let you retreat. Instead, his hand tilted your chin up, gently forcing you to meet his eyes. His expression wasn’t one of pity or discomfort—it was something softer, something that made your breath catch.

“You think that’s a bad thing?” he asked quietly, his thumb brushing lightly along your jaw.

You blinked, stunned by the question. “What?”

Glen took a small step closer, closing the space between you. “You think loving me is a bad thing?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t…I was scared you didn’t feel the same way, and I didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Your breath hitched as he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was so gentle, so tender, that it made your heart ache.

Impulsively, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Glen. But before your lips could meet, he gently stopped you, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders to keep you from leaning in further.

“Not like this,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You frowned, your cheeks flushing. “Why not?”

Glen chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly over your shoulder. “Because you’ve been drinking. And I don’t want our first kiss to be something you regret or something you can blame on tequila.”

You pouted, the alcohol in your system making your emotions harder to control. “I wouldn’t regret it.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” he said, his smile growing as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “But I want it to happen when you’re sober. When you’re completely sure about what you want.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

Glen laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, I’ve been told.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “We’ll talk more in the morning, okay? Get some rest.”

You sighed, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. “Fine.”

“Goodnight, munchkin,” he said, his voice warm.

He took a few steps down the path toward his truck, hands shoved deep into his pockets. But something in the air stopped you, a shift in the quiet between you both that pulled you back.

“Glen?” Your voice came out more fragile than you intended, halting him in his tracks.

He turned, brows furrowing in mild confusion. “Yeah?”

You shifted your weight nervously, feeling the weight of the moment. “Would you... stay? I mean, just for tonight. On the couch,” you added, the words tumbling out faster than you'd meant.

His brow raised, caught off guard. Then a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, soft and understanding. “Are you sure?”

Heat rushed to your face, and you swallowed. “Yeah, I just—” you glanced down, unsure how to explain. “I’d feel better with you here. That’s all.”

He studied you for a moment, then took a step back toward you, his smile gentle but sincere. “Okay,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll stay.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, offering him a small, grateful smile.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Glen said as he put a hand on your back and guided you through the dimly lit hallway.

“You don’t have to,” you murmured, your words a little slurred as you swayed on your feet. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” Glen said with a teasing smile, but his tone was gentle, careful, as though he was holding back. “But humor me, okay?”

You reached your bedroom, and he paused just inside the doorway, his hand still warm at the small of your back. He lingered there for a moment, watching you with an unreadable expression. “Think you can manage, or do you need some help?”

You nodded, though your movements weren’t exactly graceful. A soft chuckle escaped Glen’s lips as he crouched down and carefully removed your shoes, setting them neatly to the side as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’ve got it,” you said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and fumbling with your jacket, your fingers a little uncooperative.

“Uh-huh,” Glen replied, his gaze never leaving you. His eyes softened as he watched you struggle with the zipper for a moment before he stepped closer, his hands moving with a calm efficiency as he undid it and eased the jacket from your shoulders.

He straightened, giving you a pointed look. “Want to argue about this too, or can I just help you?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. Glen’s grin widened, and he moved to pull back the blankets, gesturing for you to lie down. You sank into the mattress, the cool sheets pressing against your warm skin like a balm. His hands were gentle as he tucked the blanket around you, slow and deliberate, as though trying to make you feel as safe and comfortable as possible.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper now.

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as the exhaustion of the night started to pull you under. “Thanks, Glen. For… everything.”

He lingered for a moment, his gaze soft, his eyes searching your face as if trying to memorize the moment. Then, his fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, warm against your skin.

“Get some rest,” he murmured. “I’ll be right out here if you need anything.”

He straightened, his presence still warm in the room even as he moved toward the door. He pulled it halfway shut behind him, the sound almost imperceptible. You barely had time to notice before sleep claimed you, his presence lingering like a comforting weight, filling the quiet space with an unspoken promise.

* * * * *

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the cocoon of blankets wrapped snugly around you, a comfort you didn’t remember arranging for yourself. Blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, you took a moment to orient yourself.

The events of the night before came rushing back in fragments—Your confession, Glen’s confession, your own vulnerability.

With a groan, you rolled onto your side, pressing your face into the pillow. Embarrassment washed over you in waves, but it was tempered by something softer: the memory of Glen tilting your chin, his thumb brushing your jaw, and his quiet admission that he’d been in love with you for a while.

Pushing yourself up, you padded out of your room, your footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor. You froze when you reached the living room.

Glen was sprawled out on the couch, his long frame somehow folded in a way that almost looked comfortable. A blanket you vaguely recognized from the back of the closet was draped over him, and his face was soft with sleep, his features relaxed and boyish. His arm rested on his chest, rising and falling in time with his even breaths.

Your heart squeezed, a rush of warmth and affection flooding through you. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him, your lips curving into a small smile.

Shaking your head, you tore your gaze away and headed to the kitchen. You busied yourself with the coffee maker, the familiar routine grounding you as your thoughts raced.

The sound of footsteps made you glance over your shoulder. Glen appeared in the doorway, his hair adorably mussed and his eyes still heavy with sleep. He leaned against the doorframe, a lazy grin tugging at his lips.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“Morning,” you replied, turning back to the coffee maker. You focused on pouring two mugs, hoping the act would calm the sudden flutter in your chest.

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with the weight of unspoken words. You handed him a mug, your fingers brushing his briefly, and he murmured a quiet thanks.

As you sipped your coffee, Glen set his down on the counter, crossing his arms as he leaned back against it. His gaze was steady, unwavering, and it made your stomach flip.

“So,” he began, his tone casual but his eyes serious, “are we going to talk about last night?”

You stiffened, your grip tightening around your mug. “What about it?” you asked, your voice a little too light, a little too forced.

Glen arched a brow. “You know what I’m talking about.”

You sighed, setting your mug down on the counter with a soft clink. “I think I made a fool of myself, and I’d rather just pretend it didn’t happen.”

His expression softened, and he took a step closer. “You didn’t make a fool of yourself.”

You avoided his gaze, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Look…I said a lot of things I probably shouldn’t have.”

“You mean the part where you said you love me?” he asked, his voice gentle.

Your head snapped up, your cheeks flushing. “Glen—”

“Because if you did mean it,” he interrupted, his tone earnest, “then we really need to talk about it.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze making it impossible to look away. “I... I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just—last night, it all came out. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Glen’s lips quirked into a small smile. “You seemed pretty clear to me.”

“Glen,” you said, exasperation creeping into your tone. “This is exactly what I was afraid of. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I can’t lose you. And I can already tell that things are different. You’re being all weird about it.”

He stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. “You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly. “But we can’t just ignore this.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “What if this changes everything?”

Glen reached out, his fingers brushing yours. “Maybe it’s supposed to,” he said softly.

The honesty in his eyes, the quiet strength in his words—it made your chest ache. You wanted to believe him, to trust that taking this leap wouldn’t send you crashing to the ground.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “Let’s talk.”

A slow, relieved smile spread across his face. “Good. Because there’s a lot I need to say.”

“Why don’t you start? What do I need to know about what you said last night?” He asked.

Your heart pounded as you scrambled for something coherent to say. “I, uh… I wasn’t sure if we needed to… I mean…”

Glen’s amused chuckle cut through your nervous rambling, and you looked up to see his familiar grin. His hazel green eyes softened as he stepped closer, plucking the mug from your hands and setting it on the counter.

“Hey,” he said gently, tilting his head to catch your gaze. “Relax. You’re overthinking this. It’s just me. Just talk to me.”

You swallowed hard, trying to tamp down the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “I just don’t know if you—if we’re—”

Glen interrupted again, this time by pulling you into a warm, steady hug. His arms wrapped around you like they belonged there, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

“Okay let’s try something else. I meant everything I said last night,” he murmured, his voice low and steady near your ear. “Did you?”

“Yes.” You hesitated, your cheek pressed against his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your own. “But…where does that leave us?”

Glen pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. His expression was earnest, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something deeper, more serious.

“I’d like to see where this goes,” he said simply, his tone confident yet careful. “If you’re okay with that.”

Your chest tightened, warmth spreading through you like sunlight breaking through clouds. “I’d like that too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

A slow smile spread across Glen’s face, one that made your knees feel a little weaker. He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Good,” he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he leaned in. You met him halfway, your lips finding his in a kiss that was both familiar and completely new. It wasn’t rushed or hesitant, just easy and natural, like it had always been meant to happen.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “So… does this mean you think you’re officially off the hook for last night?”

Glen chuckled, his hands sliding down to your waist. “I don’t know about that. I think I’m gonna have to work a little harder to earn full forgiveness.”

You smirked, your hands resting lightly on his chest. “You’re lucky I’m a sucker for you, Glen.”

“And you’re lucky I plan on spending a lot of time making the last few days up to you,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes shining with sincerity.

Before you could come up with a witty reply, Glen’s expression shifted, the teasing glimmer in his eyes giving way to something more intense. He leaned in again, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips pressed to yours.

This kiss was different—deeper, more deliberate. Your heart skipped a beat as warmth bloomed in your chest. Without thinking, your arms lifted, wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer, as if letting go wasn’t an option.

Glen’s hands slid to your waist, his touch firm yet careful, grounding you as he gently pulled you against him. The world around you seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet kitchen, bathed in soft morning light.

When the kiss finally broke, you stayed close, your forehead resting against his as you both caught your breath. A faint smile tugged at Glen’s lips, and his thumb brushed lightly against your jaw.

As the morning light filtered through the kitchen window, the air between you felt lighter, filled with the promise of something new and exciting. Whatever came next, you had a feeling it was going to be worth the wait.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell x reader #Glen Powell x you

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bluetooththereptile · 1 month ago

Text

The Crimson Snuff

(Yandere vampire family x female elf reader x yandere elven family)

(The video is not mine, original post, It's from the anime vampire hunter D bloodlust )

[Again, as I usually say in everything I write, English is not my first language, so if there is any mistakes made in creation of this text, I apologize]

Note: this text is inspired by this post.

Another note: for better imagination I recommend seeing costumes of the movie Le reign margot and the anime vampire hunter D blood lost for the general atmosphere of it, for more inspiration you can also look up Requiem chevalier vampire by Olivier ledriot. All of the characters belong to me, and if you'd like to read more of this universe, I'd love to provide. This is my take on some tropes of manhwas and if you are the type to love the obsessive family over long lost daughter or something like that, I'm tired of them lol. Enjoy this while listening to the harpsichord playing!

Another another note: it's sort of a sci-fi fantasy gothic setting

I was thinking of making this longer than other stuff I've made since it's oc and I'd like to ramble about details.

Tw: yandere tendencies, mentions of death, torture and injuries, emotional and physical abuse, racism (fantasy races).

@shenryu-sama

"Damn..." your phone fell from your hand and hit the mattress with a soft thud as you tried to process what you had just read "How can someone be so...cruel?" You mumbled to yourself, your voice muffled under your blanket. Holding your hand against your mouth, You felt your stomach churn as you tried not to recall the scene you had just read, but the image relayed in your mind over and over. You had read far worse things, but why this one stuck in your head and made you so sick, you didn't know. You looked at your phone's screen which was set to low brightness to not hurt your already throbbing eyes since your nightly habit was catching up with you, and watched the words dance under your unfocused gaze as you remembered the scene, your imaginative mind trying to create it for your mind's eye.

"As he strode about the sacred garden, the flowers that pulsated with the holy energy of the goddess perished in the vicinity of his dark Aura that lingered on his person, their withered petals turning to ashes with the soft gust of wind his floating cape made. The statue of the saintess of the household cracked with the sheer magnitude of his very presence, her open arms falling off of her marble-carved body onto the dead soil. No creature of the night had reached such power, not without feeding from the countless souls ripped off their mortal flesh by their sharp claws, and yet...he seemed to have exceeded the qualifications of the dark ones, their heads bowed in respect to the depravity of their creation.

His smirk grew more sinister as he watched the massive mansion burn in the purple flames of his mages, the once blue-colored roofs now in flames, the top-tier wood turning to cursed coal that would never burn for anything holy, the screams of the inhabitants locked inside, in the air. He stood and watched, circling the small locked box between his fingers as he usually did, the smooth surface of the metallic box reminiscent of her soft skin, was a balm to his senses, well, at least the senses that were not numbed to the world outside, his hollow mind filled with nothing but carnage and...her.

"Ahh sweetling, not even he is burning as good as you did" his whisper was lost to the wind feeding the frenzied flames, and a soft scoff left his thinned lips "Even if he claimed to be the purest" he spat the word to the statue of the saintess that stared ahead, just as he. The familiar numb feeling in his mind reached downwards to his nonbeating heart, as his thumb gently pushed the button of the lock to make the box's lid open gently with a soft click, he didn't want to waste even a speck of the crimson powder inside "May I sweetling?" He asked in mock gentleness as he buried the tip of his claw into the powder "Bon appétit" he murmured with mockery, bringing the snuff to his nose and inhaling the finely grounded dust.

His eyes fluttered in ecstasy, the wide pupils moving upwards before rolling "Ahhh sweetling" he called once more for his lady, her pure ashes coming down to his nasal cavity, coating his mouth in her taste, her perfume mixed with the ashes filling his senses, the tip of his pointed ears warming, just like a blushing boy...well, as much as his corrupt body would. "Watch sweetling, watch as I avenge us" he gestured to the State raised to ashes "Watch as they burn just as you did my beloved, I made them pay, just as I did you"

You wanted to throw up, what kind of a sick man would literally cannibalize his wife through snuff?! You trashed about in frustration, this villain was something else! Sure most villains were sick and twisted, but this bastard was supposed to fucking love his wife! What was all of this?! Why did it bother you so much though? It seemed like the scene made your own flesh burn, ack! This cursed novel sucked!

"Aaaaah!" You muffled your frustrated scream in your pillow, trying to be silent in the dead of the night. With a weak stupid protagonist who was supposed to be a Mary Sue "saintness" and a dumb male lead who didn't know boundaries and was toxic to his teeth, you didn't know how on the website's loaded server the author would manage to make this story make sense, which it did not! Plus the art style sucked! Ugh! After a few chapters of bodies proportioned so badly that made any good artist cry, you had switched to the novel to find any redeeming qualities since some stories were better in novel form but nope! It was still horse dump.

You scrolled past the text to read the comments, your eyes moving from one to another, everyone agreed with you on that, the novel sucked, many had thought it was because of the translation but a few had said it was just the same in its original language, a few had said the world building and the villain were the best parts and yet the compliment wasn't that good given the genuine sickness of the villain's character, UGH! Well the villain was as obscure as a shadow, you hadn't seen him in his drawn form, and you thanked the universe for that, after reading that scene you didn't want to associate anything with him!

Puffing the stale air of the covers you had pulled over your head you finally let it slide down, inhaling fresh air. You reached out for the VR headset you had managed to sneak out of your cousin's place, which they didn't even care about one bit since they were busy with their new gadgets, and put it on, making watching something light-hearted and nice or playing animal crossing would help you relax your mind, but as you shifted to sit up with the headset on, your phone from your mattress on the floor and you cursed under your breath, reaching down blindly to find it.

Your fingers moved on the floor, searching around, you bit your lip to focus, reaching a little further down without going off the bed, your lazy self not wanting to leave its warmth, but then you knocked the glass of water on your nightstand and it fell on your head, you gasped from the shock of it all, freezing, not just because of the water but also from the sharp "zzt" sound coming from the headset oh shi-

The sound of bombs could be heard in the distance, the troops of goddess Mekt kept bombarding the fallen city of Balna, but you knew the cavalry troops were on their way, everyone knew, and that was why there was a sense of dreadful urgency in the air that was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. The scent of the burnt flesh was in the air, making you sick to the point you thought you'd throw up by the polished boots of your kin, knowing whose flesh it was made it far far worse.

"I...I can't..." your voice shook as you clutched the large rifle in your hands, your limbs shaking from the weight of the weapon loaded with silver bullets. Your gaze looked upwards, in the dim light of the night, the shadows of the torches painted the pale faces of the company mounted on their steeds, the animals agitated from the noises and the sense of impending doom of the darkness that came with the approaching cavalry, their neighs jolting you here and there, the blood on your dress clung to your corset and skin.

"Just as incompetent as your mother" The ancient elf gritted his teeth in frustration, his sharp pale gaze on your person, his pointed ears sharply pointed upwards in a sign of anger and irritation. "Do as you are told, woman!" He hissed, reaching forward to grasp your hair, pulling it so hard that you thought a chunk of the strands were ripped off "I said kill them! Have you gone deaf?!" He shook your upper body by your hair, your scalp burning "You are the only one who can kill them without their curse infecting you! Do it before it's too late!" He threw you back onto the ground, your face hitting the stoned ground, the warmth of blood dripping off of your bruised lip.

Your blurry eyes turned to the tall couple embracing each other a few feet away, the dark cape of the male draped over his mate, holding her head against his chest in an attempt to hide her from the danger of their inescapable death, his own eyes set upwards onto the stars, you'd think the silver-haired vampire was thinking of his home planet, he had so many times told you of his sweet memories from his lands, where he had flourished and thrived. Maybe in his own faith and hope, he thought his dark soul would join his ancestors in an eternal dance with the dark ones, maybe he thought this fate wasn't going to be the end of the love he shared with his beloved.

"I can't-" You didn't want to harm them, no, you could not, not when they had accepted you in with open arms, and not, especially when they grounded him- a pained gasp left you as pain coursed through your veins, the magic-infused staff of your father hitting your back over and over as the elven lord unleashed his frustration upon you, "I said pull.the.damned.trigger you incompetent pathetic excuse of an elf! Do it before I end them with you just out of spite of seeing you flayed!" He kept hitting you down, the voices of the couple before you muffled by the rushing blood into your ears...or maybe it was your own blood?

"Ardana!" A voice called, nearly beast-like, mixed with the frantic screams of the female vampire "Let me go! Let me go to her Eckhart! My child!", the beastly growls and demands of you being left alone though soon silenced the female one "Let her go! Let her go you filthy elves!" your haunched form didn't have to turn to see the caged vampire to know from where it was coming from, bound with silver cuffs, his flesh burning by the blessed alloy, his mind a frenzy both from the pain and the weight of his mate being beaten down in refusal of killing his parents.

You refused to do as you were told, your limbs crawling to hold onto the leg of the elven lord, your blood-covered limbs clutching onto the silky fabric of his robes, your will long fused with titanium. You knew the death of the dukedom's lady and lord would mean chaos, you had many times rethought your actions over and over, dreadful of the destiny carved out for you, but the staff's attack on your body were turning unbearable, your muscles giving in onto the beatings as your father let go of his long-held fury, making you his punchbag. You needed to buy time and it'd be over! Just a few more seconds and the cavalry would be here, just a few more...seconds...and your fate...and his...would change...

"ARDANA!"

The gravity of the ground pulled your unconscious body down, your soul long gone into the realm of dreams that you couldn't feel the pain of the impact "My sweetling! No! NO!" The desperate roars of the bound vampire were soon mixed in with the sound of the hooves of the mechanic steeds, your father's horrified gaze not leaving your bloodied form as he was pulled away by his men, his lips calling for your mother, his hands shaking with remorse and guilt.

It'd be worth it...right?

Cuteness Aggression is real, you had realized it early on when you were swallowing the fluffy head of the feline creature on your lap as you kissed her over and over, her fur getting into your nostrils but you could careless when you were squeezing her gently, and the cat actually enjoyed it! Trifine she was, a good-sized feline with sharp baby blue eyes and white fluffy hair, her meows soft and girly-like, her presence always glued to your side, she was a gift upon your coming of age ceremony, and the magic-infused animal was with you ever since. Her ears twitched as a butterfly sat on it's head, looking like an airplane with a look saying "Really now?" You giggled, scratching it's chin to which she swooned into, making the blue insect fly away into the gardens below.

"Mæa?" The cat looked up in confusion as you stopped kissing her head for the 45th time that hour, looking at your wide saucer eyes, those globes wanting your attention all the time, but the maids were busy braiding your hair and needed your head to be steady. You petted her head with an apologetic "It'll be done soon" your voice coming in a rather breathy feminine voice, which you had yet to get used to, yet still it felt odd using it. Trifine purred in contentment as she made biscuits on your thighs, letting the stress of waking up too early out, uncaring to the bustle of the maids in the room as they did your daily routine of getting ready, her pink bean toes leaving marks on the fabric of the towel draped over your lap.

Your gaze went to the reflection of your face in a small round mirror held up by a maid as she smiled at you, her bright eyes round and lovely "What do you say, your ladyship? Is the new hairstyle to your liking?" The round face of the dark-skinned elf stared at you through the reflection, framed by the clay flowers around the mirror, when Aradana had to respond, you did "Aye, it is quite lovely" Your long pointed ears twitched in delight as your shapely fingers touched your cheeks. It'd be embarrassing if you were to realize how expressive your ears were, letting on for your any emotion, that was why many ladies wore lace hats that restricted the movement of their ears and held them in place to hide their true emotions, just as they did by hiding their faces behind their fans.

The maids smiled at your satisfaction, they had trained hard to learn how to handle the unique hair texture of of the sun elves, which was rare in these grounds, but they were learning, and your mother was pleased. One maid powdered the golden-colored braids to ensure their health, the powder laced with a sweet calming perfume that filled the aura about you, giving your person an even more pleasing presence and soothing the spirit of anyone about and you. They dabbed your scalp with purified pomade to trap moisture, it's cool texture making your scalp tingle, and you couldn't help but shudder at its effects.

Who knew being pampered felt so good, even if the body you were in was a complete stranger to you a few weeks ago. That electric shock the headset had put you through had sent your consciousness out of your body, and somehow, in some way, by the will of a sick deity or something, you had ended up in another world. At least the VIP care you got was nice. Baths and showers every time you wanted, the best beautiful flowing gowns that puffed around your shoulders, the glistening pearls and jewels in drawers upon drawers of jewelry cases. Yeah, being a noblewoman was nice, it felt like playing Barbie in real life, and by some miracle, which you had learned was the magic of the items you used, you didn't tire of it.

The voices of the maids echoed in the vast chambers, the soft hums and even occasional singings giving a background noise to the opulent residence. They diligently polished the floors and dusted every nook and crony, the skirts of their uniform dresses tucked under their belts, their bare legs in full view, low-heeled shoes petter pattering about, their short ears hidden under their clean and purely white bonnets. Where humans used skin color for segregation, elves were ranked by their ear size, which about yours...they were...something. as long as the palm of your hands they were. The soft appendages were delicate and took extreme care to maintain, just like the ancient Chinese tradition of growing your nails long as a sign of nobility, highborn elves of every branch that were created by Mekt had longer and more expressive ears. The priests said Mekt adored pointed ears, which favored the nobles, but you knew it was all bullshit to secure power, elves and humans weren't much different in the grand scheme of things.

Your perfectly filed fingers ram through the soft fur of Trifine, the fluffy gal purring a storm, gently batting imaginary flies around her. The maids cooed as they pampered the feline as well, offering it snacks and brushing her long tail that moved about as if it had a mind of its own. You sighed softly, giving Adarana, or you, to be honest, another look. You had screamed your head off when you had woken up to realize where the hell you were. The damned headset had sent you to a very dangerous place and from the looks of it, you had no way out of it.

Your eyes moved about to hide the tears of frustration, your cute button nose twitching a little in an attempt to scrunch up. Your chambers was something out of a commercial in size respectively, with a large marble-styled bathroom that ran on magic-infused boiled water, a toilette that had flowered patterned tiles that shimmered under the candlelight, a whole dedicated prayer room with everything needed there, especially with a statue of Mekt, which you covered with a cloth, given your trauma with the scene you had read about her and the villain. Two walk-in closets filled with every fashion item imaginable, an office that you got your lessons in and met your tutors at, and a boudoir which was reserved for close friends, to which you didn't have any, only your mother visited you there for tea, and you had counted, exactly three window seats and 12 windows of different shapes in total around the living quarters.

So you had truly ended up in that damned novel huh? It wasn't a dream, your countless attempts to wake up which some may had been too painful than others reminded you of that but how did you end up here in the world of "The silver-spooned saintness", you did not know, maybe it was another version of the "Truck-kun" messing with you or it was a punishment out of nowhere or the sheer hatred of the stupid author, you weren't sure. And the title, whatever the hell that translated title means, sure, silver spoon in Korean meant being born of wealth, but still...you now HATED the damned title.

Speaking of the saintess, you rolled your eyes so hard that the poor maids thought there was something wrong, to which you just waved your hand, ignoring their confused glances. The saintess was the protagonist, the oh-so-powerful, beautiful, all-knowing Yuviel Palewand, Adarana's sibling and now...your little sister. How?! Why?! Why she author? Why she?! Yuviel had the personality of a fluffy white bread and oh you'd be cursed, she was just aa white to the core. Sometimes you flinched at how translucent her skin was, the author's obsession with white skin, a tall skinny body, pink hair, and purple eyes made you want to find the author and shove some sense into them, not even Asians themselves were that "perfect", which was alright! Yuviel looked bad in the art style of her story, but in person, she seemed so sickly it was...disturbing.

Yuviel had the typical childcare story plot line, the daughter of a long lost lover sent to an orphanage found in the worst condition possible, doted upon by her father and siblings, it would be a really good plot for fluffy fillings on the pages, which it was. Palewand state was a very gorgeous one, with lush greenery and a mansion so massive it rivaled a palace, which it had to, Balthinal Palewand, your father, was one of the few viscounts in elven domain of the planet Leril after all. Your three younger brothers were just as typical as one could be given a story of as Yuviel's, things were perfect, but you were there, and as an imposter in the body of the young elf, you knew things weren't as simple.

"Your" father was a high elf of the branch of the moon elves, pale, tall with gray eyes, he literally could shimmer under the direct light, his excessive use of silk didn't help either. He had an arranged marriage with "your" mother, Eponia of Woella, a sun elf, to strengthen the bond of the states. She had a fair build, with a full body and lovely dark skin, and you, Ardana, had inherited most of her features but still shared the same pale silver eyes with your father. Your father had cheated on your mother and Yuviel was the fruit of it, and he had the audacity to not only bring her in but shower her with more love than he had shown Ardana, which had made your mother resentful.

Eponia was not a woman of pettiness, she was wise and a lady through and through but Mekt's enemies be damned, if one were to say something bad about you, she'd gauge their eyes out. That was why you liked Eponia more than others, she was genuine and loved Ardana fully. None of these details were mentioned in the novel, especially, the fact that YOU were ENGAGED, to the villain of the story, in an attempt from your father to save YUVIEL from the clutches of a bloodsucking beast, oh you nearly forgot, on top of being a misogynistic, pro classism, and an asshole that had favorites, he also was racist to the bone. He had thrown you under the bus to save his favorite. Obsessive fathers like him made you sick to the bone, especially knowing one of the reasons she was so liked by his was Yuviel's likeness to her late mother, which the older maids had said he was obsessed with as well...ew.

At least the sons of the family were rather normal, well as normal as spoiled nobles could be, none of them had an inch of a hard spine, aside from Irtar, who was a young teen in elven years by the time you had gotten there, if the story would proceed as it did in the novel, the talented elf would go through so much. Surprisingly Eponia seemed to like you more than she did her sons, Curufor, your eldest brother and the heir to the Palewand state, had told young Ardana it was because Eponia always wanted a daughter, that was why she had put up with Balthinal and gave birth to three sons only for the fourth babe to turn out as a female. Good thing you had Ardana's memories. That was how you had escaped the skeptical gaze of Mellion, the middle son, who seemed to stare right through your eyes and reach your soul, your mother always disliked how much that piercing gaze was reminiscent of Balthinal's, to add salt to the already festering wound of Eponia's resentment, none of her sons looked like her either, you could see why she was so attached to Abrana, in Leril no bride had the chance to take any maid or lady in waiting of her father's state to her new home. The Palewand family was well, at least "functional" to a degree, Abrana was always grateful that none of her siblings turned against their family as most elves did.

Racism was prevalent in Leril which was actually acceptable to any elf, not only on the green and lush planet of elves but also in the whole universe Abrana knew of. The elves from different planets shared the universal hatred of any races other than their own, thank Mekt they are not racist to their own- oh right...the ear size thing...Mekt had some explaining to do, but nah, according to the scripture of Mekt's church, she was the bride to Kytvan, the lord of all, and not many dared to question her ways, aside from the dark ones, who themselves had their own can of worms that was spilled everywhere. But again, given how humans and orcs acted, you didn't think other deities were good enough to criticize Mekt. At least she had managed her creation better than others. Other planets were a constant mess.

Especially on Sevonad's dead soil, where Necropolis, the city of sin and decay, had festered like a plague, oozing puss and sickness. You had once seen the map of the dark planet and its moons and by Mekt! Why half of Senovad's surface was covered in a hulking hive city?! Necropolis was like a living behemoth of a parasite of metal and wires, withering with energy and countless towers that pierced the atmosphere of the planet, it had slithered into it's never dying core and rooted at the shadowed side of the planet that was stuck in its orbit and didn't turn its northern side towards the sunlight, which had given the nocturnal side of Sevonad the perfect condition for the creatures of the night to thrive in, the other side was under constant sunlight, and was mostly a never-ending sahara, deprived of any shade, literal demons roaming it's grounds. What were the dark ones thinking when they created this massive rock in space?

The readers sort of liked the worldbuilding of the story, a mixture of fantasy races in a universe of gothic horror with futuristic technology and magic, but the author hadn't had given much of the details, not to the clarity you had seen. There were three habitable planets in the Zorak sector, aside from the planet of humans, which in itself was like a fantasy version of Earth, named Sabra, they had the same state of tech as the modern days, fused with magic and conflict, hardly reaching for the stars since vampires sabotaged their endeavors in an attempt to keep them trapped for their own harvesting, though victims of vampires colonization, even the orcs didn't like to touch them, why? Given that you yourself were human in spirit, you knew why.

There was Sevonad, the dark planet, Sabra, Leril, and the fourth and the most barbaric one, Adigog, a planet covered in the bile-like greenery that seemed sickly from the outside, home to orcs and other fantasy races that were too barbaric for the other planets, good thing they hadn't developed technology to the point of space travel, which you didn't think they were capable of, given the constant tribal wars they went through. Diegord, their god, was just as repulsive in nature in mythology and scripture as his creations were, always harassing Mekt. It was a solid world-building, and further from the planet sectors of Zorak were other sectors, which were not mentioned in the book or in the maps you had seen, it seemed they didn't want to interact with Zorakians, and the ships coming in and out of the three planets of the sector didn't venture out of its borders either.

Life in Palewand state wasn't that bad, Eponia watched over you, doted on you, babied you even...yeah sure...Life in Palewand state wasn't that bad, well aside from the constant stress of where the hell the story was going!

The silver-spooned saintess's story was of a struggling elf maiden that had taken sanctuary in the capital of Leril's monastery after a grueling war between vampires and elves, the typical saintess arch, and that included a very toxic elf prince, and the whole story was about them dealing with the villain of the story. Silvain Agarand and his pursuit of avenging the Palewand family by any means.

Leril had been long under the colonization of the vampires coming from Sevonad as well, vampires had reached their claws to every single planet in search of new resources, greedy and cruel, they had taken the Eastern hemisphere of the planet for themselves and with use of their superior technology and Mekt's absence, since the priests said she had gone to a millennia rest after fighting off Diegord in the heavens. They had occupied the land and had extended their influence and power on the dark elves of the east, making the Drows their minions and thralls. For centuries it was total chaos on the eastern side, with the frontiers of the states close to the east in constant war with the vampires, but in the end, the elves, given the absence of their deity and patron to fund their mana, gave in, and relented to their terms, aside from letting the vampires suck up the resources of the planet, every century, from a chosen state, by random, a young elf would marry into the realm of the vampires on Leril and your family was chosen this time. At first, Yuviel was put up as an option given her perfect nature, which was the author's way of adding coal to the fire of fangirling for her, oh perfect Yuviel! So perfect that she was chosen to be the oh-so-pure sacrificial bride...yeah, you wanted to rip your hair out in frustration. Your father had changed the candidate to you, earning your and Eponia's scorn. And who was your darling betrothed? Yes, it was HIM!

According to the story, the villain Silvain Agarand, the Duke to the Agarand state, which was a large continent on the northern part of the occupied lands, was a sadistic mad vampire that sought nothing but the demise of Yuviel Palewand and her family, and he does to an extent, killing everyone but her and her youngest brother Irtar Palewand, who somehow with the help of the male lead and Mekt's blessing would get rid of the villain. You hadn't read enough to know what was going to happen, the poor grammar and also the all-over-the-place plotline of the story had frustrated you, but you still remembered one thing.

Arbana had died in the original plotline. Yes, because she was married off to that sadistic Agarand and Mekt knew what he had done to her, and now that your father had pushed the engagement onto you instead of Yuviel, you were going insane from the stress, so much so that even Eponia noticed and tried to argue with your father, day and night to make him see the absurdity of it all. He had finally relented and agreed to annul the engagement if the Agarands were not to respect the elven tradition of meeting the bride in person before choosing her. Which was impossible, given the fact that no vampire could reach Palewand state without being weakened to the stage of a mere thrall because of the pulsating veins of Mekt's mana in the land.

You huffed in frustration as you paced around your room, your pet cat looking at you in confusion as you frantically mumbled "Why me? Why me? Why me?!" The reality was setting in and it was setting in HARD! Not even those damned good-smelling tea or delicious snacks could calm you down, why on Leril's soil you had to be the "tribute"?! The night's dinner no matter how many times your mother had insisted was a good meal had made you nauseated with its strange aroma, and it didn't help your anxiety at all. The soothing tea that your mother had sent to your chambers was sitting in the corner, long forgotten and had turned cold half an hour ago.

You were going to kiss little Trifine in your arms as she let out a soft 'mrrp' of concern, before you heard a soft "squeak" coming from the window, you furrowed your brows and looked down at Trifine, the purring cat tilting her head as well, as if sensing something wasn't right. Trifine didn't make such noises, sure she had made some weird noises here and there like soft meows that sounded like she was singing but not a squeak-"Squeak"

You turned around, searching for where the noise was coming from only to find a small FLUFFY batling on the window's railings, any thoughts of your misery were thrown out of your mind as you met its wide crimson eyes "Squeak" It made another noise as it realized you had noticed it, perking up, Oh Mekt!...why was it so cute?! You put Trifine down, the feline looking up quizzically, not understanding why she was put down, as you approached the window slowly to not scare the batling, but the fluffball seemed unfazed, sitting on its small stubby legs.

"Hello" you greeted it with a high-pitched voice out of your excitement, and the batling just puffed its fluffy chest and squeaked again, as if greeting you back. Its large flap-like ears perked up, the flat nose twitching a little. You clawed at your chest "Ack!" It was so unexpected, you hadn't seen any bats like it before and surely there was not a place for them in the state's grounds. You tilted your head closer, refusing to give in to the urge of petting the creature. You couldn't help but coo as it rubbed it's head with it's left wing, fluttering it's wings before looking up once more, as if it was preening for your attention.

The batling crawled closer, it's leathery wings shuddering a little, maybe because of the unfamiliar situation it was in? It seemed curious and eager, which was strange, even for elves animals were still apprehensive of them. You tried to reach out to pet the fluffy white creature when another voice startled both of you, another white batling came screeching as it attacked the first one, you gasped and tried to do something but you realized the attack wasn't harmful, it was as if the second bat was scolding the first one by slapping it with its wings over and over. Before you could do something the second batling literally threw the first one off of the railings and then flew off, leaving you flagbastered and little Trifine confused as hell, the poor thing was sitting there looking up, a look of "What just happened?!" On her face. Well, that was something.

You were puzzled, shaking your head to clear your mind, You turned around to pick up Trifine once more before the first batling poked it's head in again "Squeak!" You giggled at it's persistence but- "You look even more lovely in person-" "EEK!" You screamed in shock hearing a very deep masculine voice coming from the batling, and it was so loud it startled the creature and it fell once more as it let out a loud scream with a voice that wasn't befitting of the manly voice "Ahh!". After you had calmed down, you looked down the window to see if what you had seen was real or not but down on the white rose bushes below the window there was nothing, maybe the meal had messed up with your mind? Your mother had said it was a special herb inside, yeah, maybe it was the game of the mind, but why did poor Trifine keep frantically meowing around you? Maybe she was startled by your scream as well, how strange...

And even more strange was- "The engagement will proceed as planned" Yes, the engagement wasn't annulled as much as your mother had wanted it to. Why? You didn't know "But why?" You spoke, making others look your way "I haven't seen the heir of the Agarand state and he hasn't seen me! It's...it's..." You trailed off to find the right words "It's ridiculous!" Your mother shouted, coming to your aid, standing up from her seat, the plates on the breakfast table moving at her sudden movement, Eponia rarely lost her temper like this, but it was her baby she was defending. "It has been decided woman-" your father sighed "I do not care! They haven't followed the tradition-" "They have actually, sit down and listen" Balthinal sighed, rubbing his temper, why breakfast needed to be complicated like this?

"He has seen our daughter" he started, everyone's head snapped in your direction to which you gave them a confused look back "I haven't-" "It seems the heir and his chaperone had entered the Palewand state last night in disguise of-" your mind started to reel as your father explained, trying to remember the past few nights, wait-so the batling-NO WAY! That explained the crimson eyes and the deep voice! Those filthy vampires could shapeshift! "It's unacceptable! I was in my sleeping gown and he-he has breached my privacy and dignity!" You tried to argue, but your father was busy cutting down the bread in front of him "It is decided, and they will send a company with offerings before taking Ardana for the engagement ceremony at the border" The finality in his tone made you stop, fuming silently, as a daughter you couldn't argue with your father further, and your mother didn't seem any better, and the 'pure' Yuviel was being handfed by Mellion once again, oblivious to everything.

It took only less than a week for the ceremonial party to reach

Palewand state, that you refused to leave your room, but curiosity got the better of you after the arrival of the company was announced. You and Trifine watched from the window of your chambers, your eyes widened at the sheer amount of gifts and carriages they had sent. You held up Trifine who seemed curious as well, wanting her to be the judge of it all just as you were. "Meow," She said "Yeah...that's a lot of carriages" you agreed with Trifine, looking down at the five full carriages colored black with the symbol of the three-headed hydra plastered on their doors in a glistening purple color. Your doom seemed to approach you in extravagant robes.

"Are they courting the daughter of a king or something?" Your father huffed as you and your mother watched the vampire vassals wearing dark Bautas to hide their faces from the glaring sun and bring in the many caskets of gifts. Your mother slapped his arm with her fan, making him give back a glare "Your daughter doesn't have anything less than a princess" Eponia huffed, fanning herself. You wished you hadn't come down to the entrance hall to see the gifts pouring in, but Trifine was restless and so were you plus your mother had insisted, she spoke of the vassals' need to see you up close to know your worth or something, whatever it was, you didn't want to touch even a speck of dust coming down the gifts let alone use them, but soon they'd be part of the dowery you'd be taking with you.

The caskets and chests were opened, filled to the brim with dresses up to date in fashion in silk and other materials, pelts of legendary animals, jewelry of any kind, shoes of different heights, books of different subjects, large vials of glistening perfumes, even a golden harp. Alright...maybe they were doing too much- "Five hundred thousand gold?!" Your father spat in disbelief as the vassals silently opened the gold chest, revealing the golden bars branded by the symbol of Palewand state, basically a payment to the father of the bride for giving an "asset" away, how convenient. You kept petting Trifine, showing disinterest.

"Darling" Your mother called for you gaining your attention as she gestured to a vassal approaching with a dark red velvet cushion in his hands, a glistening golden ring upon it "This is your naming ring my dear" She spoke softly, holding your right hand, gently caressing the back of it with her thumb, if you were going to leave, she'd try to make it somehow tolerable for you in any way she could. "Naming ring?" You asked and she nodded, your gaze on the vassal's hand, the realization that every vampire of importance had numerous rings on them setting in. "By accepting the naming ring you accept the engagement, at the ceremony of engagement you will be given another ring, and then another at your wedding, three rings, symbolizing the three...dark ones... and the three hydras of the house Agarand" Your mother fanned herself even faster, trying to keep herself calm, it was like giving up her precious little girl to the slaughterhouse, but she couldn't say no.

The vassal knelt as he offered up the pillow, his face and emotions hidden by the mask, which any vampire you had ever seen wore to protect themselves from burns. You hesitantly reached out for the ring and picked it up looking at the glistening viper coiling around it "Who gives their betrothed a viper ring?" You scrunched up your nose in disgust, your mother chiding you in a murmur "Darling!" You knew your comment was rude but you had to let out your anger in some way. The horned viper was one of the three hydras of the house Agarand, but alas...it was rather heavy, and the ruby gems worked in its eyes glistened, reminding you of the eyes of the batling, oh that weasel Silvain-

You lowered your head and put it on your mother's shoulder for support as your father put the ring on your trembling hand, finalizing the betrothal process. "His lord and ladyship Agarand will be hosting the ceremony at the border by the Kalmas lake by the third full moon" the vassal spoke, bowing before backing away. Here it went, why couldn't you change the story of your doom like other characters in different stories you had read? Or it was just a hoax the author put in? Your will didn't matter, and the ring on your finger seemed very heavy, your blood freezing in your veins feeling it's magical grip around your heart.

The parting ceremony held by your parents a week later from the gifting was nothing short of a nightmare, everyone gave you either pitiful or disgusted glances, and women behind their fans whispered to themselves as you walked past them, their eyes narrowed in on your every action and Yuviel and your siblings weren't anywhere to be seen, probably coddling Yuviel or something, you didn't want to see them anyway. You felt like a sacrificial lamb paraded around, your mother refused to attend out of spite of your father, who tried to smile and failed miserably at every given minute, because he knew he was the one to blame, and the nobility for once were siding with his wife instead of him, because he was taking his child away to hand her to bloodsucking wolves.

You had wept the night before your parting, the company sent by your new family would leave before the break of day since the exchange spot was a day away, and vampires could not stand in direct sunlight. Your mother had wept her eyeliner off the whole time, Yuviel as well, though you didn't show any emotions, other than a soft hiccup when Trifine was taken from you, it was direct orders, no pets, servants, or belongings of the bride would be transferred with her, upon the engagement ceremony, which the bride had to attend alone, she'd be reborn as a lady of the night. Poor Trifine kept meowing as she looked at you, and you swore you could see her cry, your maids wept too, it was nothing like a happy parting, but you didn't blame them either.

Your mother kissed your face over and over, pulling the hood of your cape down to cover your face "Make sure to eat well alright my little mouse?" She caressed your face, not wanting to tear up again at your trembling lips. "Woman-" "Just shut up and let me say goodbye to my daughter!" Eponia snapped at her husband before she guided you into the carriage, putting a blanket on your lap as she fluffed it up for you, trying to hold back her tears "If anything happens..." She trailed off, there was no turning back now was it? She reached out and put a small vial in your hands "Dying with dignity is worth more" She whispered, and the realization dawned on you.

The carriage's door closed and enclosed you in it's darkness, leaving you alone to digest the reality that Eponia had given you the poison to kill yourself with, but the irony was, you didn't seem to dislike the idea either, after all, the war was away for less than a year, and your sealed fate wasn't that better either, maybe you'd do it to spite the dark ones and the Agarands.

In the carriage you were on your own, refusing to touch any of the gifts put there, glaring at the hidden portrait of your to be fiancé inside a velvet-covered box, you hadn't seen him yet, but his audacity and rudeness as well as his apparent character from the novel made you want to set the portrait on fire. Your head rested on the soft inner padding of the seat, rocking softly as you listened to the hooves of the mechanical horses touching the road, your family had sent nothing but the gifts the Agarands had sent for you with you, no dowery to your name, a literal nobody entering the maws of death.

You had fallen asleep from exhaustion and mental fatigue, the company reached the massive tents set beside the lake that shimmered under the moonlight before you could know it. You woke up by the knock on the door of your carriage and your heart started beating faster and faster with each knock after you had jolted out of your sleep, your breath quickening, what if he were to set you on fire here and there?! You didn't want to turn into snuff of a sick and twisted man!

The door of the carriage opened on its own letting the chilling breeze of the twilight time in, your nose burning from the cold. You finally managed to gather up your courage and leaned forward to see you were at the other side, meeting a full group of maids and ladies in waiting in dark purple clothing did courtesy upon seeing you "Your ladyship" one of them spoke with eloquence, gesturing with her gloved hand towards the tent behind them as her fingers fluttered. "Come forth" She beckoned, holding her other hand out for you. Taking her hand you left the carriage, her pink-colored eyes downcast in respect as she guided you toward the tent.

You entered the clothed walls of the tent, shuddering at the coldness of the atmosphere, the ladies in waiting gave you demure polite smiles ss the maids unfastened your clothing to have them removed. Your cape left you, their hands diligently unfastening the buttons of your dress. Too nervous to protest them practically undressing you in front of the eyes of each other you relented, listening to them whispering soft measurements and discussing the needed jewelry and powders, not looking up from their tasks. None of the Agarands had attended you yet, and it felt rather refreshing, you didn't want to meet any of those silverheads.

The cold hands of the dampier maids were covered with gloves, their silence rather comfortable, but you still missed your own girls, which you were sure missed you as well. The golden dress you wore was changed with the latest gown coming right from Sevonad, the ladies in waiting made sure to mention that, the purple gown sat right under the airy chemise, that your corset was tied up, apparently the Agarand's family color was purple, which showed their closeness to royalty. White stockings with soft garters were put on, the underwear soft as cotton on you.

A lady in waiting of yours offered her hand for you to take after your hat was fitted on your head and a fresh coating of powder was put on your head and shoulders "This way your ladyship" She guided you out of the tent, letting you step on the occupied soil, belonging to the frontlines that decades ago were covered in the bodies of both races, their deaths still heavy on the atmosphere. The lady guided you towards the largest tent, the guards, their faces hidden behind their helms saluting as you walked past them, your lace shoes dipping onto the fresh doed grass, your gait slightly limping at the heavy skirt of your new dress.

Upon your arrival at the main tent, a soft violin tone started playing, your head didn't move to find the one playing, it seemed like a piece of music to your funeral. You looked up to see the tent having a makeshift alter made of wood in the shape of the dark ones' church you had seen in pictures of your studies of Senovad, with a curtain cutting it's space in two, basically hiding the two betrothed from each other until the end of the ceremonial process. A subtle hint of incense was in the air and it's sweet hints could be felt on your tongue, maybe if you lived long enough you could ask the name of it from the maids. Your marvel at the scent in the air was cut short as your eyes landed on something or rather someone particular.

You gulped down the lump in your throat that seemed to gnaw at your windpipe, your breath shuddering at the hulking figure's back facing you, his board shoulders adorned with epaulettes glistening with a dark silver color, his cape reaching down onto the floor. Why was he so...HUGE?! How on Sevonad's dark soil they fed him? Or better to ask WHAT they fed him because from the width he seemed he could eat two men whole and still have some place left in his stomach for seconds. Now the scenes you had read about him were ringing more and more horrific, your legs shaking under the skirt of the gown. He didn't move his head, the pony-tailed silver hair of his perfectly still, but the subtle twitch of his pointed ear gave you the signal that he had realized you were there.

"My child" a smooth male voice called you out of your shock, and your attention snapped to the other tall figure behind the alter that had appeared out of the shadows, his face chiseled with the shade of the light of the torches around you set on his deathly pale skin. His crimson irises were deep set in hunter-shaped eyes, his arched brows tilted downwards, and his silver hair was combed back, pomade glistening on his tresses as a lovelock fell from the lace collar of his clothing. He seemed like a marble statue that had come to life by the will of the dark ones, wearing a dark doublet that was adorned with golden stripes, the deep cuffs of his clothes set in place with buttons that seemed made out of pearls, the hose upon his stockings weaved with precision. The emblem of the purple-colored hydra on his chest.

Within a blink of an eye, the tall silvered-haired vampire loomed over you, using his super-powered speed. Given the emblem and the way he had called you, he'd be none other than Eckhart Agarand himself, the Duke of the northern fronts, and the lord and master of the Amethyst Peak. Your soon-to-be father-in-law leaned forward to take your hand from the lady in waiting in his, the red gloves on his person thick to the touch. The large palm of the ancient being dwarfed yours, your hand looking like a child's in his, oh right, you had forgotten royal and pure blood vampires were twice the size of a normal one...nice. He petted your hand with his other hand, gently, as if to soothe you, a fatherly smile upon his glistening lips, you had heard vampire men used balms for their skin because of lack of moisture coming from their bodies, but seeing it up close was something else, from the close distance you could take the hints of roses of it.

"I apologize for this meager ceremony my dear" he started, the smooth voice rolling out of his bright white teeth like notes of a flute "But my beloved had insisted upon meeting you sooner and could not wait to prepare a better ceremony, she has promised for a grand wedding in return" he petted your hand once more, but oh your eyes was set on those two sharp fangs on his person, from that angle you were sure you were just like a pray to him. Thank Mekt the Agarands were one of the view nobles that adhered to the lifestyle of using artificial blood, which in the eyes of their kin made them seem like radicals that had lost their minds.

"Come" the duke guided you to the free spot at the left side of the curtain, and you tried your best to not look at the way your soon-to-he fiance was, holding your gaze forward. "It must be very cold, the dews are turning to crystals" he muttered to himself, waving his free hand to send a servant to fetch you a coat after the end of the ceremony, the telepathic order of his followed without question. The senior Agarand guided your hand to a small iron bowl set upon the alter, putting it there with your hand's palm up, he cleared his throat, and the hand of your betrothed reached out as well, your stomach dropping at the large clawed digits on his long-fingered hand, the limb already covered with different shapes of rings, just like his father's "Ah" the duke chuckled softly, taking your reaction, if wide eyes and your hand shaking as enthusiasm WHICH WAS NOT! Tell your son to not touch me! Ever! You wanted to yell at him.

As he started reciting prayers to the dark ones he picked up a small blade, holding it onto the flame of the candles upon the alter, it seemed the duke had sensed your apprehensive look and he gently spoke "Do not worry my child, it'll only cut a shallow wound" he tried to reassure you, which didn't help at all, but you were to frozen by the cold and the weight of your dress to move. The blade moved on your skin, the painless cut opening, your blood dripping off of your hand into the bowl into soft drops, the Duke cut his son's hand as well, though after a few small droplets his wound closed off on its own, his blood mixing with yours, after a few moments and a handful of drops the duke reached out, rubbing a healing balm on your skin to make the wound close, wiping the access blood away "You did well" he praised, your heart thudding a little at the gentle praise. Damn him and his well-shaved goatee.

After a few seconds, the duke picked up the bowl and poured the mixed blood into two different silver lines cups adorned with symbols of darkness. "Hear me thee dark ones, for tonight I hath gathered the blood of my offspring and a child of Mekt, bless their union with thine hands, tie their souls, for may they never part" he offered the cup on your side to you, his son reaching out for his. The duke seemed oddly attentive for some reason. "I know it might seem rather...unsanitary, but it is an ancient ritual, drink my child, it is for the sake of the engagement."

You looked at the liquid, your lips not wanting to part as you circled the blood inside it. You parted your lips to protest but suddenly a raven made a loud crow, startling you into dropping the cup and it fell upon the altar, coloring it red the lady in waiting gasped "Bad omen!" But she was silenced by the sharp glare of the duke. "Mayhaps the dark ones have willed the blood to be offered to them" he tried to lighten the mood. "We can redo the ceremony at the Peak if you'd want to my child." You just stared at the spot made on the white altar, the redness of it making your stomach churn.

"She can have as much as she likes" the same deep voice you had heard from that batling on that night spoke, and the curtain moved to reveal your now fiance "I can cut myself all over if she wants me to", and your eyes set upon his, the spitting image of his father, with a smile that seemed sweet for a man of his stature. Silvain Agarand...the villain, the sick man himself. But why was he looking at you like a bashful boy?

Waking up to the soft hum of engines, you tried to roll around in the small space of the medical sarcophagus, but you were restrained down by its confines, the sensors inside beeping in alarm. Thinking you had once again slept in you tried to reach out for your alarm "I'll get up" you mumbled sleepily to your non-existent phone, your voice muffled by the air mask on your face, trying to turn it off as you heard the alarms of the metallic casket encasing you in its padded interior, your hands clawing at the soft cushions that had held your wounded form as it had healed you for days on end.

You soon were jolted out of your sedated rest by the door of the sarcophagus nearly being ripped open "Darling! Oh, my sweetling!" Your eyes snapped open hearing the frantic sound of Silvain, your ears perking up and aching since you hadn't used them for days. Silvian was panting loudly, his teeth bare as his monstrous side fought to come out to posses it's mate his eyes wide, bloodshot red with his tears of blood. He quickly reached out for your hands, gripping them firmly but not harshly, his chapped lips kissing your fingers over and over as he thanked the dark ones for their blessings. He looked a mess, his stubble had grown and brunt against your palms as he grazed his face to them, wanting to feel your warmth on his ice-cold flesh.

"Oh my beloved" he sobbed, your dazed mind not nearly registering that you had been nearly regenerated whole by the cloning technology of the ship's medical wing, the physician and your appointed nurse carefully administrating tests on you, trying to see if you were fully conscious or not. "Bless be the dark ones, she's healed fully!" Doctor Halden whispered to himself as he checked for your cognitive presence, the brain waves without any problems. Silvain let out a gasp of relief as he resumed kissing your fingers, his breath shaking "Blessed be Holodor, lady of blood, blessed be Semias lord of flesh, blessed be the mother to the soul, Deidron, thank thee for thy kindness, I shall bathe thine alters in the blood of thine fallen enemies for decades to come" he kept mumbling prayers, his eyes closed.

Valeria was by your side within seconds, after she was notified of your waking. The vampiress tearing up at the sight of you in that condition, under the weight of many wires and tubes, holding her handkerchief close to her face to wipe the blood made tears staining her plain cheeks as she approached, her rose-colored dress fluttering. "Oh my sweet child, are you in pain?" She asked softly, so distressed you could swear she'd faint within seconds if you were to whimper. Eckhart joined his wife, holding her shoulders, and leaned towards the sarcophagus, his brows knitted in worry "You are nearly healed my child, there is no doubt you will be healthy as ever in the coming days" he reassured you, the paternal warmth in his voice evident as he swallowed down his distress, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I-I am just tired" you finally spoke, surprised at how sluggish your movements were, as if you were using them for the first time, which given your newly grown flesh it wasn't that far from the truth. You inhaled to speak once more, to reassure the worried family but Silvain gently put his finger on your lips to silence you "Shhhh, rest, I am here" he whispered, kissing the back of your hands in small pecks, his eyes closing as his nostrils flared, his will holding the dam of his tears from breaking once more, you were alive, and the medical sarcophagus had healed you to the point of health without you being in too much pain.

It took two weeks in the medical wing of the ship for you to recover, Silvain and his family's physicians guiding you through the physical therapy steps, the heir of the Agarand state holding you in place with his hands holding your waist tightly, his hands guiding you through every obstacle, he was there when you walked again, he was there when you spoke once more, he was there when you wrote your first word once again, he was there, and he cared, with all his being. Also, he ruined lots of tissues because your man kept crying every day like a cloud in the spring.

You were glad the war was over, the Agarands had frantically gathered their belongings before the elven army had reached their state, and your father had seized the moment to get rid of your in-laws so he could marry you off to someone more profitable. The original Abrana had chosen that fate and ended up dead, but you had refused and well, you were at least alive.

After your recovery you could spend time the way you enjoyed it, roaming the insides of the spaceship, the castle like structure of it was filled with luxuries, branded with the head of the three hydras, specifically commissioned by the dark emperor for the Agarand family after the war broke on Leril, Eckhart was the dark emperor's second removed grandchild and he adored the Duke. The six months stay in the ship as it traveled to Sevonad from Leril meaning you'd have enough time to see what kind of the place this marvel of technology and gothic design was. You had heard the dark emperor rarely gifted his relatives such things. It was massive, with wings of different uses, the buttresses magnificent magical gardens that withstood the darkness of vampires being, literal ballrooms, dining halls, music rooms, and a gallery. The cargo was full of decades worth of artificial blood and frozen foods, ready to use in the hands of the staff.

In your endeavors you found the duke and a few dampiers in front of the chambers that were supposed to be Silvain's and yours after your subsequent departure from the medical wing, the small crowd discussing things in hushed whispers, Eckhart tried to brush off the situation, gently ushering you to spend time with his wife and the twin boys in the eastern wing, but you insisted and he finally shared that toxic gasses had leaked in the quarters for a while, and Silvain was lucky that he had spent his time on your bedside, away from it all. Oh...OH?!

Oh...you had heard the name of that gas before in Irtar's chemistry books...it was harmless to humans, but it seemed it caused severe brain damage to vampires or other races, humans used it for chemical warfare against other races before being occupied by the vampires, and given how it had been rumored that the elves had occupied the shipyard for a few weeks before giving up the station to the cavalry sent by the dark emperor himself, could it be that they had laced the air supply of the ship? Vampires didn't need to breathe but they had supplied air vents for their staff which were mostly thralls and dampiers, some even had human victims as pets and companions and they needed air, some said the gas affected the mana and corrupted it, which directly imbalanced the chemicals of the body and mind, but given that it had leaked through Silvain and your chambers things were piecing together.

In the original story, from what you have gathered and matched with your own memories you wouldn't even be alive to reside there since the feral Silvain would drain you of your blood and after he had come to his senses he'd cremate your body and his parents in his guilt to keep your memories with him, then the lonely new master to the Amethyst Peak was definitely poisoned to his fangs, given his habit of wallowing in his grief and sadness when he was overwhelmed with guilt, and subsequently, the small doses of the nerve-wracking gas would slowly lead him to lose his mind. And in his twisted delirium Silvain had turned your ashes into a snuff to consume you piece by piece, in a sadly macabre way of holding you close, the revenge he had of your family was to see them pay for their neglect of your life and decision...oh poor Silvie.

Now everything was clicking into place! The dukedom's couple living had changed the whole plot and storyline! With his parents alive, he had guidance to help him with his emotions, and certainly, you had lived, even if the injury you had sustained by the hands of your father was nearly as fatal as what Silvain would give you if you hadn't had refused Balthinal's orders and had killed Valeria and Eckhart. The twin boys were too young to help their brother anyway.

But Mekt knew, from the snickers of the dark ones echoing through the heavens, that your new weaved fate, wasn't going to be as bright as you had hoped for.

"Hnngh!" You tried to suck in your breath as the maids behind you pulled on your corset to tighten up your waist, the lace pulling being such a difficult task that two maids tried to pull the strings, making the air push out of your lungs even more "I can't breath" you managed to say nearly choked from the pressure of the tightly weaved fabric against your middle, the chemise beneath it pressing tight to your flesh, it wasn't your fault you didn't have an hourglass figure! You whined uncontrollably, your ears drooping in a show of distress, which was answered with apologetic glances of the dampier maids, whispering with embarrassed smiles muttering how they only followed orders, oh it was so awkward, you wished your own maids could be here to take care of things, you could at least joke with them about the situation.

Speaking of a tense situation... you tried to ignore the small shivering ball of fur on the nightstand before you, who had shamefully buried his head under one of the powder puffs there, his small body practically buzzing from how fast he was shivering. The maids giggled to themselves as they walked about with different items in their hands, finding the situation so endearing. You had come to realize that your mental image of the dark vampire that would be the monster of your life was all made up by your mind, because in reality, the tough dangerous looking vampire villain you had made up in your mind and had read about, was nothing short of a shy nervous wreck of a man that in elven years was actually even younger than you. Oh and he had a very bad habit, he'd shapeshift upon being overwhelmed. And after thinking he had seen his bride in her wedding dress the poor lad had turned into a batling and was hiding behind the large powder puff, refusing to get out even if his butlers were looking for him to get him ready for the ceremony, thinking it'd be of bad luck for your upcoming marriage, Silvain had walked in, bringing you a box of macaroons before he had shapeshifted into a batling. You knew he had chosen that form to avoid being scolded by you or his mother, knowing he could use the cuteness of his form against you two as well. But still, the power of a mother was more.

He peaked out of the powder puff upon hearing his mother calling for him, the vampiress giving him a scolding look before practically throwing him outside the bridal chambers like a ball so he could get ready. Valeria Agarand she was, a lady and nothing short of her husband, both in height and status, with sharp, high-boned cheeks, thin lips, and fox-like eyes, her gaze sparkling with wit and wisdom. You had come to know her as a cunning vampiress who knew how to manipulate people, he had your fiancé and her husband in the palm of her hand, which could be seen as toxic, but alas, nothing in your life was short of literally venomous anyway.

Duchess Valeria smiled softly as she looked at you up and down as the maids put the first layer of your dress on, the gown sitting on top of the inner cotton skirt, the white fabric soon covered with another layer, the weight of the heavy lilac colored wedding dress you could hardly breath "Oof" you whined once more, earning Valeria's chuckle as she got the long array of jewelry you'd be putting on for the wedding "Bear with it my sweet child, I remember I nearly passed out upon my own wedding" She turned to you, the pins in her raven hair glistening under the lights.

"Oh how I wish my daughters were here to see the beauty of their new family member, but it'd take months for them to get here" She sighed, circling about to check if every item was up to her standards, oh right, a control freak, you had nearly forgotten that. Just great, a too friendly father-in-law and a mother-in-law that seemed like a fox in the form of a lady, this way their son was the least of your concerns at the moment.

The Agarands were a family of seven, two sets of twins, and Silvian was born out of the union of the duchess and the duke, and your fiancé was the eldest son of the family, Madge, and Benedicta, his twin sisters were older than him, already married to influential families back on Sevonad, you had heard Benedicta was married to the legendary general Rambrecht Werder, the conqueror of humans, Madge's husband was still a mystery to you, but he seemed even more important than Werder. Younger than Silvain were young twins Bernolt and Gerhart, who had just learned how to write and were busy wreaking havoc somewhere, always under heavy supervision of their army of nannies.

Your in-laws seemed to be busy in the bedroom, which was a very rare notion because one, vampires could rarely get pregnant, and five children already meant they were really busy with each other, something that others noted and teased the duke and his mate about often, earning their chuckles that sounded like money flying in the air, and two, vampires were rarely known for love between couples, but it seemed the Agarand's couple were passionate and their children had inherited it. Silvain was like a schoolboy in love.

The wedding ceremony surprisingly was a private one, in front of the immediate family members that could catch up, and a priest of the dark ones' monastery. It was set in the prayer room of the large castle you had moved into, fast and efficient, just as Valeria had insisted it to be, she knew the traditional wedding dress that was passed down through generations was taking a heavy toll on you, and right after silvain had put a kiss on your cheek the maids were taking you away to have you changed into a more airy chemise like dress, which Valeria was happy to see you in, calling it a fitting dress for a nymph such as you, which has made you blush. The rest of the night was spent on eating cake and getting to know everyone.

Life in the Amethyst Peak was strangely pleasant, especially after the second batling incident, you had realized Silvain was much more different than he was in the stories, your man was as heavy as a tank and just as large but he'd turn into a batling out of nervousness if he was in your presence, not that your love for cute things changed anything for the better. He'd either get squished in your hands as you held him, or end up covered in your lipstick as you kissed him, he had taken the role of Trifine for you, and you had seemed to adopt his batling persona as your pet and he had taken the habit of turning to the bat form of his when he saw you angry. Unlike many ironical protagonists of the novels you had read, you could see the signs, and hopefully, seeing how the Agarands were in private, you'd find a way to stop your fate from happening.

The peak had grounds covered in darkness fused fauna, which sounded scary only to the name because the flowers that only bloomed in the moonlight were as gorgeous as one can be, the ponds were covered in small mermaid-like nymphs that would sing and chirp, their eyes wide and unblinking. The castle was not even a dark shade of pink, but people called it so because of the marvelous Amethyst statue of a small snake in the middle of the garden that was a gift directly from the dark emperor himself, you shuddered every time you saw the serpent, as if the first vampire could see you through its eyes.

The family always considered your needs when planning their own events, they had hired a full chef team to cater to your palate, and made sure to have family dinner times from time to time, who knew drinking blood from different fancy glasses that warped and coiled was just as fun as eating a pudding that melted on your tongue? Silvain seemed to like it a little too much, his mother would always glare at his habit of suckling the blood out instead of holding the glass upside down. It was not manly she said, which the younger vampire would give sheepish glances at his parent in response, but he still kept doing it.

They made sure your chambers and the library you frequented were always warm, and Mekt knew how many coats and jackets Valeria had stuffed into your wardrobes because she had made sure you had a coat for every and any occasion. One time she had put on so many on you that you had to waddle about inside the cold Peak. They even let your mother visit, well at least her hologram would visit you through the portable antenna they had sent her, Life seemed to be smooth sailing, but no...Mekt had other plans for you.

The war between the elves and the vampires was inevitable, and so was your decision.

You'd soon come to realize that you had to choose, and this choice would change everything.

"You would like to see the new garden darling" Valeria spoke with a soft smile as she prepared the ribbon that was going to be on your hair, the cold hands of the dampier maids combing through your strands as they prepared them to be braided once more after a rigorous washing session with the finest oils Sevonad could offer. They had tried their best to treat your special hair type.

"It is of fashion these days, I've seen the grand duchesses wear ribbons to royal balls" She spoke softly as she showed you three different rolls of red colored ribbon in varying width "What do you think? Threaded out of the finest we could find" Her crimson gaze was gentle and motherly, as if trying to soothe a stressed child, which you were, and fussy, so to speak.

You had not left your quarters after the Agarands had entrusted you with their firstborn daughter Madge, who was now a consort to a Grand Duke, connected right to the imperial family. Madge swirled the blood in her glass, looking at it's narrow flute, her gaze upon the liquid as it swirled around, as cunning as she was just like her mother, she could not continue to pretend that things were normal, they in fact, were not.

Silvain had nearly gone feral after the incident that had happened back on your home planet, and now back in the birthplace of the first vampires, Sevonad, it had taken so long for him to calm his senses down, long after you had healed by the power and grace of the technology of the dark planet. He had improved, so to speak, mentally. Improved, as much as to save face in public, behind closed doors he'd change, like a guard dog only loyal to it's master he had grown bipolar, with anyone but his mother and you, he was like a beast ready to be provoked. He was a mother's boy but still...this was too much. He had changed, but the family made sure to not have you notice.

Too much so that he stopped mid-air from killing the elf that had snuck to meet you, your youngest sibling, Irtar, but he had refrained from doing so by your request, which was more like frantic pleading as you had put yourself between him and the male elf.

"What flowers have you chosen?" You finally asked, not wanting to let Valeria down, everyone knew how much...bitter...she could get if not appreciated, which happened very very rarely, but when it did, even Eckhart himself would turn to a hiding place. You didn't blame her though, she did everything she could to ensure her family's happiness, she sometimes just...popped.

Valeria perked up "Oh darling we were thinking of doing a huge row of sunflowers! The artificial sun ray of the garden can grow so warm and cozy that it can nourish them!" The duchess clasped her hands together, the lace of her gloves making a soft pat sound. "How...how about roses? White roses?" You asked softly "Oh my child we can have white roses as well! How about tulips too?" You nodded, making the ancient vampire let out a happy chirp as she walked about. You had sulked for too long and you were tired of confining yourself to your quarters.

Madge gave you a thankful look before she pretended to read the small prayer book in her hand, which was a common tradition for expecting mothers, after all, she needed every single one of the dark ones to bless her child as well. You had heard Valeria prayed for a full week without feeding on a single speck of blood, which given Silvain's powers, she was very successful since many pregnant vampires would go mad without feeding within a day.

Speaking of Mr.husband- he hadn't forgotten his habit of showing out of nowhere, so you let out a soft "eep" noise when he appeared, kneeling before you, holding a box in one hand as he caressed your stocking-covered leg with the other "How are you doing my sweetling?" You put your hand on your chest, taking in a deep breath "Silvain Linus meinheart Agarand!" He chuckled, tilted his head to the side as his ponytailed hair fell onto his shoulder, giving you his best puppy-eyed look "Yes?" He replied with the mischief of a young one in his voice, his sharp fangs showing themselves off "What is wrong with you?!"

"Ow" he pretended to be hurt when you slapped his head with a fan, but his insufferable grin wouldn't go away. Finally, he relented and as he put a kiss to the sole of your foot in his hand, feeling the white thin lace on his lips he looked up at you with an apologetic gaze "I know I know sweetling, I should always knock first" Holding up the box in his other hand. You were going to roll your eyes when you heard a soft meowl, your ears perked up at the sound and you beamed, for the first time, making your husband's breath hitch. "I uh..." he trailed off, not knowing how to speak for a second, holding up the box still.

You snatched the box from him, giggling uncontrollably as you opened it, to reveal a very round and fluffy calico kitten, lovingly collared "Saffie" The kitten let out a soft-pitched meow, it's pink mouth opening and closing before it tilted it's head, looking up at you. "Hello, honeybee!" You cooed and the kitten circled around in the box, giving you a twirl as the bell on its collar jingled in a proud parade of itself, as if already knowing how cute it was. "Meow" it called once more, making your heart melt even further.

Silvain watched you interact with the furry creature with a soft smile, his hand still caressing your foot in the palm of his hand, your happiness meant his, and he'd do anything to ensure it to happen. "It rhymes with taffy!" You held Saffie up, who had a face of "I'm already full of this bitch's shit". The atmosphere of the quarters lightened by your smiles and giggles, making the mood of others improve for the better.

You wanted to pretend to not remember how your husband had shoved your brother into a pod and had ordered him to be sent back to your home planet, how the young elf had shouted over and over for you to come back home, that everyone had realized what you were trying to do for them, but to be honest, you thought poor Irtar had gone insane from the toxins of the war, yeah, he must have gone insane, you'd better be happy with the quarantine you were in before the duchess would decide you were "healthy" enough to leave the mansion.

Silvain had promised you a fitting home, which was a very spacious mansion close to where his parents' was getting built, that was why he had entrusted you with his siblings, who as equal as the heir to the house of Agarand in enthusiastic way of caring for you.

Life now wasn't that bad if you were trying to be honest. Necropolis was a city of sin and madness, but it was for the poor and the zombies lurking beneath the guarded borders of the protected neighborhoods of the nobles. Life was funded, and you were being adored, but why...why that damned feeling in your gut was warning you, again?

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oh-no-its-bird · 4 months ago

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Celebrating my 21'st birthday by posting an obnoxious amount of

Warring States Hatake OC things !

Continuing the warring states era Hatake oc train as I try to fill up all 21 slots for the clan !!! I honestly don't know if I'll make all 21, but I'd like to at least give them all names, just to make the world feel lived in. I might ask someone else to donate an oc or two in the future to guest star in the cast, idk

But anyways !!!! In a clan who loves to adopt, it stands to reason that they ofc have people among them who weren't born Hatake.

With that said: Pyromaniac explosion enthusiast Hatake who was a failed bloodline theft anyone ???

Both Sora and Tsuki are pretty fucking horrendous towards Tetsuo, but in large part it's Tsuki leading the charge. Sora follows his lead, as he's the first friend she made in the clan. They're honestly pretty close

Meanwhile: Sora remains the biggest Haruka fan ever. Being saved from the bloodline thief camp by the woman really cemented her in her mind as her hero.

After Sora lost her arm at 12 when playing with an explosion seal she'd explicitly been told not to play with, Tsuki proposed they learn to do hand signs together.

Sora would eventually be able to figure out how to do pull off a jutsu with only one hand, but it takes a long time to get there— and even when she is there, it still takes longer than if she had 2 hands. Working with Tsuki, they can both pull off just about any jutsu as fast as any one person can. Faster, even

Top ten images taken 5 seconds before disaster...

I was gonna draw 2 more pages for this, of the actual drowning attempt, but I got tired and wanted to post this today so you get a summary of what comes next instead. (Maybe I'll finish drawing it and post it separately another day)

Tsuki and Sora bullied Tetsuo pretty relentlessly till the boys were about 13, when Tsuki took things a step too far and basically tried to drown Tetsuo. Tetsuo fought back, beating both Tsuki and Sora's asses pretty soundly— and catching Haruka's attention in the process.

Seeing Tetsuo fend off the other two made up Haruka's mind, and she declared he'd be her new heir. Which he... didn't actually want to be. Oops!

Sora was pretty effectively scared out of bullying Tetsuo any further, and Tsuki mellowed out a good amount— though he remained mischievous, but that was pretty standard for him.

The blue tint of Tetsuo's skin would fade only some months later as he grew out of his Hoshigaki traits and into his Hatake blood. This also helped to lessen teasing from the other kids, along with the whole "he's the new clan heir now" thing.

Good for him.

The next day Tetsuo is super pissy and sleep deprived while Tsuki is suspiciously smug and well rested. On the bright side, Tetsuo has officially learned his lesson and will now refuse to let Tsuki ever give anyone anything he's drawn ominous spirals on.

As adults, Tetsuo and Tsuki are... fine, honestly. They're friends, in a way. Might even be counted as close— or as close as you can be, with Tsuki.

The fact that Tsuki got himself permanantly posessed by an Uzu spiral demon on that mission gone wrong in Wave doesn't make things as complicated than you'd think. Tetsuo seems to often land himself in the position of acting as Tsuki (and often times Sora's) handler.

I had a few more things I wanted to draw, but ran out of time. I'll probably just try and draw and post it later. No Sora piercing lore, Daisuke introduction post or full Tetsuo drowning comic for you!!! (Yet)

Umm final thoughts:

Tetsuo is doomed to forever be surrounded by maniacs

Early Konoha oc art pt. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

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hwaslayer · 5 months ago

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the space between us three (jyh) | three.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⇢word count: 7.4k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language, seora's a smart lil gal who luvs her uncles v much, she does open up a lil bit about her mom, mentions of death, yunho goes out for dinner, making out, one-sided [rushed] feelings tho oof - one of those things where you think it'd play out fine then it doesn't 🤐, a lil glimpse into yunho and his thoughts/how he feels about things, some seora x uncle hwa content, a bit of oc x parents too!

"Hey." Yunho slips on his seatbelt as the call pulls up through the car's bluetooth, on his way out of the staff garage. "Were you able to leave a bit early to get to Seora?"

"Yes, I already told you I'd find a way. I'm pulling up to the lot right now." Yunho lets out a breath of relief, heading over to Ara's loft since she had the day off today. Tonight was the night they'd go out for dinner, something Yunho thought would be fun and harmless. He went into this thinking he'd put himself out there and give it a chance, even though deep down, he's not entirely sure where he lies about this— about her.

Maybe tonight would help him decide, but he wasn't gonna force it and just let things go with the flow.

"Looks like I made it just in time. Practice just got out."

"Good."

"So, what exactly did you tell Seora?"

"That I was heading out to a team dinner."

"Atta boy."

"Shut up."

"Uncle Hwa!" Yunho hears Seora's voice in the background, causing him to smile to himself. "Sup!"

"What's up, little one?" Seonghwa playfully ruffles her hair before pulling her into a hug. "Ready to go? Anything you want before we head home?"

"Hm, that's a good question." She points to the phone. "Wait, are you on the phone with my dad?"

"Sure am." He faces the phone towards her before she grabs it.

"Dad."

"Hey babygirl. I'll be home later, okay? Have fun with Uncle Hwa. Run his wallet dry, he won't mind." She laughs.

"Okay, I will. But, what time will you be home?"

"I don't know, not too late. It could run a little long, though."

"Hm." She hums. "Are you really going to a team dinner?" Seonghwa purses his lips together to prevent himself from laughing out loud.

"Yes." Yunho says, feeling a bit bad to lie to his own daughter. "I'll get home as soon as I can."

"Okay."

"I love you, ace. Make your uncle useful."

"Okay, okay." She chuckles. "I love you, too." She passes the phone back to Seonghwa before sliding her things into the backseat and settling into the passenger's side.

"Have fun at your team dinner." Seonghwa teases, making Yunho rolls his eyes.

"Not one word, Park Seonghwa."

"Uh huh." He hangs up the phone and slips into the driver's seat, settling in just before turning on the car and looking over at Seora. "So, did you figure out what you want, ace?" She tugs on her hoodie strings as she scrolls through her phone.

"I kinda want a good ol' burger."

"Burgers and fries sound good right now, actually. Any place in particular?"

"Burger Almighty?" Seonghwa smiles.

"Nice choice. Do you wanna eat there, or take it back home?"

"Take it back home, please. I need to get out of my practice clothes." Seonghwa nods, pulling up the website in order to place an order for pickup. "Ou, actually, wait. Uncle Hwa?"

"Yup?"

"Can we also stop by for ice cream?"

"Of course." He hands her the phone. "Here, pick whatever you want." She smiles and slouches in the front seat, going through the menu options. She goes back and forth for awhile, but Seonghwa patiently waits. He hears his phone ding and doesn't think much about it until Seora pops in once more, finally selecting her options and adding it to the cart. "Someone named Yoori texted you."

"Oh." Seonghwa looks at her. "I'll get to it later."

"She's asking if you wanna come over tonight." Seora smirks before letting out a small laugh. "Dad mentioned you were kinda seeing someone. Is that her?"

"Dad just airing out my business, huh?" Seonghwa laughs before grabbing his phone. "Is that all?"

"Mhm. Besides the ice cream. Thank you, Uncle Hwa."

"Course." Hwa quickly texts back that he might stop by before he gets home tonight, but he'll let her know.

"So, are you seeing her? Kinda seeing her, whatever that means? What does it mean to be kinda seeing someone?" Her questions are coming back to back and Seonghwa can't help but chuckle dryly as he drives out of the lot and towards their first destination.

"We're.. figuring things out."

"What's there to figure out, Uncle Hwa? You either like each other or you don't, right?"

"Things can get complicated, ace. Especially when you get older and your wants and needs in a partner become more solidified. Specific."

"Like..?"

"We're both just not sure if we're ready to take that next step. Or, I guess, it's mainly me."

"Then, do you really like her if you question it?"

"I do. I just haven't been in a relationship in awhile, and I was kinda enjoying my freedom." Seora nods, still unsure about this whole idea of relationship complexities and what not. "You get older and you realize you don't wanna waste anyone's time and effort and vice versa."

"I see." Seora looks at him. "If she likes you a lot too, I don't see what the harm is."

"I don't wanna hurt anyone on accident."

"You wouldn't hurt anyone, Uncle Hwa." He smiles.

"Thanks, ace. But your uncle makes mistakes cause I'm human. As with anyone."

"Dad hasn't really dated anyone, either." Seonghwa shrugs, knowing Yunho has tried and has dabbled in it, but it always never went far. Not far enough that Yunho felt comfortable enough introducing them to Seora and opening that door.

"Mmyeah, cause he doesn't feel the need to when he has you." Seora giggles.

"I like it, though. Just us two."

"Would you be mad if your dad started dating again?"

"Um, I'm not sure."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess it depends? If I like the person or not."

"Of course he'd make sure you're happy and that you'd get along well with the person."

"Mmyeah. It'd be an adjustment, though. I'm used to it being just us two."

"I know, and your dad is, too. But, he does deserve to be happy, right?"

"What else can make him happier than me, Uncle Hwa?" He laughs and shakes his head.

"You're right. He is happy." Seonghwa pauses. "Seora, promise me one thing?"

"I can try?"

"You'll keep your mind open to it? You know.. your dad dating and possibly opening the door for another person to step in."

"Mm, sure." She says before there's a brief pause in the conversation. "Sometimes, I wonder what it'd be like to have a mom. I barely got time with mine." She says softly, her voice tapering off at the end of the statement.

"And it was unfair to you." Seonghwa lets out a breath as he navigates the tricky streets of the city, almost nearing their endpoint.

"Right? Like.. I wonder how it feels to hang out with your mom, or to go on dates with her. Talk to her about girly stuff. Do our hair and makeup together. Nails. Go shopping." Seonghwa turns to her as he stops at a red light, watching as her eyes continue to focus on the surroundings outside. "Dad tries his best. He always tries to do things with me so I don't have to wonder too much, but sometimes I can't help it."

"That's okay, Seora. He knows. He does try his best always, but he knows that question will always be there." She's silent again for a moment, and Seonghwa isn't sure if she's missing her mom or trying to replay the memories that she has left of her. It breaks his heart because he knows Seora is missing a part of her— she just manages to mask it well.

"Yeah." Is all she responds with me. "I dunno, maybe one day I'll remember what it's like." She says softly. "I have dad for now though, and he's enough."

"One day." Seonghwa repeats after her, not wanting to plunge deeper into the conversation and turn Seora's mood inside out tonight. "Well." He pulls into a spot across the street from the burger place. "There's a convenience store I can run into for your ice cream. What are you craving for?"

"Strawberry, please!"

"That's a good one." He unbuckles his seatbelt before turning to her. "I'll grab our stuff and be back." She gives him a toothless smile and nods, eyes glued onto him as he slams the door shut and locks the car; leaving Seora to her own while she waits patiently in her seat.

Yunho pulls up to Ara's building, parking in the lot after getting through security at the gate. He unbuckles his seat belt and lets out a sigh, dusting himself down before slipping out and heading inside. He presses the front code at the lobby door before stepping inside and heading up to the 3rd floor. When he finally gets to her door, he knocks a few times before stepping back and digging his hands into his pockets.

"Yunho." She says, a smile on her face. She's in a cute baby blue sweater and jeans, white chucks on her feet. It's more of a casual thing, nothing too serious or too fancy. It makes Yunho a little more comfortable that way. Less pressure. "Hey."

"Hey. You look nice." Yunho smiles at her. "Ready?" She nods. "Hope you're down for some ramen?"

"I can always go for some good ramen." She smiles and makes sure her door is shut and locked before following him back down.

"How was your day off?"

"It was good! I spent the day grabbing groceries and deep cleaning my space. But otherwise, it was nice and relaxing. Just what I needed." Yunho looks at her with a small smile.

"That's good. I'm glad you got to relax for the most part. You definitely need it with how hard you work."

"Thanks." She giggles. "How was work today?" He shrugs, her eyes ogling his figure as they step into the elevator. He's in a white longsleeve and a puffer vest, dark denim and chucks.

"Kinda busy. Things are really ramping up with that new department. I feel like our team is constantly getting pulled into things left and right now."

"Aren't you guys hiring another person?" He nods.

"Hopefully, yeah. I have a few more interviews this upcoming week, but should be wrapping up after that. There's two people that the team and I like so far."

"That's good. More help is on the way. A step closer to shedding off some of your workload." Yunho chuckles a bit.

"Yeah, that's the hope. Taehyun has been a lot of help, though. It hasn't been entirely bad."

"That's good to hear." Yunho swings the door open to the passenger's seat, giving Ara the opportunity to slip in and get herself comfortable before he shuts the door and hops in.

"Heat okay? Too hot?" He asks as he starts up the car and pulls up the directions to a popular ramen shop that just opened last month. The wait is outrageous, but luckily, Yunho threw them onto the waitlist as soon as they opened for dinner. They'll get there just in time for their table to be ready.

"No, it's perfect."

"Cool." He says, pulling off to begin their journey deep into the city. Ara watches as he drives off flawlessly with one hand, leaning onto the middle console. It's no lie that Ara has always had a crush on Yunho, and she's always thought he was incredibly attractive. She kept her distance though, supporting him as a friend and being careful not to be in too, too deep with her feelings because she didn't wanna scare him off or make him uncomfortable. When he finally asked her out to a casual dinner , she was excited. Butterflies swarming her tummy at full speed— she feels like her patience is paying off.

Maybe this will blossom into something; the one thing she had hoped for with him.

"How's Miss Seora doing?"

"She's good. Still getting good grades and playing basketball. She's hanging out with her Uncle Seonghwa right now." Ara smiles.

"That's cute. It's really sweet how you guys are close."

"Yeah, he's helped me alot with Seora. She loves having her uncles around. Gives her something new to deal with besides her own father." She laughs.

"I'm sure that girl loves and appreciates you more than anything, Yunho. You're a great dad."

"I try to be." He shrugs. "Although, she used to hate when I tried to do her hair and dress her up. She said I mixed and matched clothes way too much and her ponytails were always lopsided."

"You did your best." Ara laughs a little louder. "Doing hair and dressing up a baby girl is not for the faint of heart."

"Truly isn't." He laughs, while Ara points at his pinky nail.

"I see she painted your nails?" Yunho briefly looks down at his two pinkies, painted with black nail polish.

"Sure did. She kept it minimal, though. For work, she says. Just a lil touch." Ara giggles.

"You two are cute."

"Mm, we try to be." Yunho jokes. The conversation continues on as Yunho drives the last 10 minutes to the ramen shop, finding parking right around the corner despite the busy streets and the long line that's forming right outside of the restaurant. He helps Ara out of the car before locking it up, walking alongside of her until it gets too tight to do so. He guides her by the small of her back, pushing her towards the front of the restaurant where the host is. As guessed, they arrive right when their table is ready, the host immediately showing them to their table in the back corner.

She settles into the chair across from him before thanking the host and taking the menu from her hands. They instantly skim their options, with Yunho already deciding on what he wants. He marks it off on the sheet, along with any modifications he wants [extra spicy, extra green onions], while Ara does the same. When they're ready to submit their orders, Yunho calls over the server, handing them their order papers before clasping his hands together—elbow resting on the table as he looks over at her. She's trying her hardest not to blush while sipping on her water, eyes avoiding eye contact cause Yunho makes her feel a certain way.

He just doesn't know if he can reciprocate the feeling.

Truthfully, if he's being all the way honest— he went into this thinking it'd be chill. Harmless in a sense. Putting himself out there since he didn't have much to lose. He knew Ara's had feelings; even if she never said it out loud, it's pretty obvious. And not to say she isn't a great girl, no. She's great. She's been a good friend to Yunho, and she's incredibly sweet. He couldn't really tell you why he didn't see her in that light, though. Perhaps, he still wasn't ready for a relationship. Or, maybe he was and he already had a feeling that she wouldn't be the right one.

Maybe he's being too critical.

But all he knows, is that in this moment, Ara is giving him heart eyes and she's blushing over everything he does. It makes him feel good, but the other half of him feels bad because when he looks at her, he just sees a friend. Good company.

The night is still early.

Yunho is trying to remind himself.

When the food arrives, they get to eating right away. In between, Yunho dives a little deeper into his dynamic with Seora, touching up on the fact that he doesn't really get a long with his parents but will bear with them solely because of her. Even though they don't do much for their granddaughter, she still wonders about them and how they're doing. She always talks about seeing them soon even though Yunho can never promise that she will. He doesn't talk about Eunha, though. Kinda leaves the conversation at that. He feels like he needs to build a better connection with someone in order to open up about that part of his past. Not only is it too painful, but it's a subject that makes Yunho incredibly vulnerable.

The good thing with Ara is that she doesn't budge nor does she push. She ends up talking a lot about her childhood and growing up with her parents in exchange. She has lived a pretty good life; her parents supporting both her and her sister throughout all their endeavors. Her sister works abroad in the fashion industry, while Ara decided to take the healthcare route. Her parents were supportive nonetheless, pushing them to strive for their dreams and supporting them through every opportunity that came their way. Yunho thinks it's nice that they have that sort of relationship— it speaks volumes to the way Ara carries herself and how sweet she is. She makes a great nurse, a great daughter and sister; and it almost makes her a little too perfect.

Which, isn't bad.

But, also isn't great for Yunho. Because all he is made of is flaws and all; he's got a lot of things he lacks in, he feels. He hasn't been in a serious relationship since Eunha passed and he isn't even sure he knows what the word love is anymore. What it's like to love and be loved. He doesn't focus on himself a majority of the time because that time and attention goes to this daughter. He wouldn't have it any other way, let's get that straight.

However, it's clear Ara has this 'perfect' image of him in her head when he is far from that. He is merely getting by; things hurt the fuck outta him and he stresses over every little thing. He gets overwhelmed easily, anxious, can barely let go of the past trauma.

He doesn't wanna disappoint her. Anyone, as a matter of fact.

The conversation continues until they've both slurped up the last bits of their ramen, and Yunho genuinely enjoyed it once they've stopped talking so deeply. Conversations come easy with Ara and he does like that. He doesn't have to try too hard to think about what to talk about next or how to carry the conversation. Brief pauses in between don't feel awkward.

It's nice.

After dinner, he pays for their meal and turns down Ara's efforts to pay for her half. They joke and tease on the way back to the car, with Yunho turning up the music a tad bit louder this time around so it helps fill the empty space in the car. He feels himself getting a little exhausted, but when Ara looks at him with those eyes and asks if he wants to come up for a bit, he finds himself confused; he should be saying no, but he ends up with:

"Sure." Yunho gives her a tiny, toothless smile as she leads the way back up to her loft. Yunho feels bad for even thinking about going back on his decision because it feels pretty intimate to be coming into someone's space after dinner. He doesn't wanna be rude, though. And, he did enjoy their talk over dinner.

So, he continues despite the inner turmoil that's starting to form.

Back upstairs, Ara kicks off her shoes first before Yunho does. He stands awkwardly near the door while she sets her things down, following her into the living room area once she starts padding over. He plops onto the couch and settles into it; leaning back to rest, arm positioned on the back edge of the couch. Ara gives him a glass of water before sitting down next to him, and Yunho feels himself tense up a bit when he feels her leg brush against his. She's got some kind of psychological thriller show on, and Yunho's trying his best to get invested as it continues to play. Ara gives him a little bit more context to the show, describing it with such big eyes and an excited tone that Yunho finds it pretty cute.

Then, at some point, she has somehow shifted in her position and is now sitting right against him. He still has his arm on the back of the couch, and she has slotted herself in that opening— sitting criss-crossed as she continues to watch her show. He feels her warmth against his, and he's not sure how to act.

She probably feels how stiff and rigid he is.

"You okay?" She asks and he gives her a smile.

"Yeah, why?"

"I dunno. You got quiet."

"I'm trying to keep up with your show." She laughs.

"It's a lot."

"All good. It's interesting." He looks down at her. She doesn't say anything, but her eyes are glazing over his features. He watches as she scans his face, down to his lips, and he feels himself swallow thickly because he knows where this is going. She's the first to pull up— suddenly pressing her lips against his in that brief moment they shared and Yunho indulges in it. They hold the kiss there for a second longer before Yunho [mistakenly] deepens the kiss and pulls her onto his lap. The kiss heightens quickly, the show in the background long forgotten. He lets out a shaky exhale in between kisses, with Ara gently pressing herself down against him. She takes Yunho's hand and guides it up her stomach, to her chest— landing on her breast. His eyes widen a bit, the shock causing him to slightly pull back from the kiss to try and read her. She nods though, subtly biting her lip as she leans forward to kiss him again; a soft moan releasing from her lips when he squeezes the flesh in the palm of his hand while she starts to pepper kisses along his jaw, neck.

And as much as he can easily fall into this, say fuck it and just go with it— that's not who he is.

"Wait." Yunho pries his lips off of hers, his hand retracting from her body. "Wait." He repeats.

"What's wrong?" She asks, eyes still full of desire, lust. He can see the way she looks at him and it's even more of a reason to push off. Reality hits tough, and Yunho thinks this is a prime example of when it's both a blessing and a curse.

"Ara, I'm sorry. I'm—" He looks at her with his big, brown, sad eyes. Because it's not her at all, it's him. He's just not into this and he doesn't really know how else to tell her. "I can't." She sinks into her seat and Yunho feels so, so bad. "I don't wanna do that to you." He sighs and scoots back a bit. "You're great, you really are. But, you deserve someone who is sure of you. I'm sorry I can't be that person. I just— I just think we're good as friends." He sighs. "I'm sorry if I had lead you on or gave you any mixed signals, that wasn't my intention." He says softly, and Ara can't even be livid at him because of how genuinely sweet and apologetic he's being. "I shouldn't have come up here—"

"Yunho, it's okay." She says with a forced, reassuring smile, hopping off his lap because damn, this is awkward. Not only does the rejection hit her hard, but she must look desperate and way too needy for him now. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to move so quickly, I thought—"

"You don't have to apologize." Yunho stands and gathers himself. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's just.."

"We're better off as friends." She finishes the statement and he can't help but shrug. He doesn't know how to explain it, but he doesn't want her to think she did anything wrong.

She didn't.

"I hope you believe me when I say it isn't you. You are amazing and anyone would be lucky to have you. I—I haven't done this in a long time and quite frankly, I don't think I'm ready."

"Or maybe, it's just not me you want. And that's okay, Yunho. You're probably right— maybe we are just better off as friends."

"I'm sorry." He says weakly. "I really hope I didn't mess this up because I'd still like for us to be the same as we were before."

"No, of course not." She says even though it's obvious she's got tears welling in her eyes and she's hurt. Yunho feels his heart drop, but at the same time, he knew he had to stop it before it could get too deep—

Before he could make a terrible mistake; do the unthinkable to someone he cared about as a friend first and foremost.

"Ara."

"I promise it's all okay." She nods. "I agree with you, and we shouldn't force this if it's not meant to happen." She gives him another forced smile.

"I'll head out and give you some space. I'm sorry." Is all he can respond with. He walks over to her door and slips back into his shoes before looking back at her. She purses her lips and doesn't say much, and it makes Yunho feel like he's already ruined this.

Damn, Yunho.

"I'll see you on Monday, yeah?" She nods quietly again while opening the door for him.

"Thanks again for dinner. It was great. I can send you my half—"

"No, no need. Dinner was on me, remember? It's totally fine." He gives her a tiny, toothless smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." She answers, allowing him to walk further down the hall before shutting the door and getting back to her own peace. She's hurt, not gonna lie. She truly felt like there was hope, especially with the texts exchanged and the way he was good to her tonight. But, looking back at it, it could have been her fault for completely assuming and jumping the gun— it was Yunho just being Yunho.

Oh well.

Maybe things will be better in the future, and the timing would align. She understands he has different priorities right now, and that's okay. Who is she to determine that for him?

Yunho gets back into his car and lets out a hefty sigh, sitting there for a second before grumbling a low 'fuck' to himself. He feels really bad and he knew he should've dropped her off and left it at that.

But, no.

He had to go and be stupid about it.

At least he can say he tried, right? That should count for something.

"Wanna put up another movie? Your dad's date—" Seonghwa pauses and looks at Seora as she furrows her brows at him. They had put on a movie after Seora freshened up for the evening. She didn't have too much homework, so she finished up the last bits with the first movie on before they had indulged in dinner. Now, her and her Uncle Hwa were eating ice cream, looking at more movie options to throw on until her father would get home. "Your dad's team dinner should be done by now."

"Date?"

"I didn't say that."

"Uncle Hwa."

"What?" Seora gives him one last look before pinching him on the bicep, causing him to let out a yelp. "Swear! I don't know where you heard that from." He cocks a brow up playfully. "It's a team dinner."

"Oooookay." She playfully cuts her eyes at him before going through the movie options. "You can just say so."

"Ou, look." Seonghwa diverts her attention to the TV and points at a movie to put on. "Let's watch Rogue One, I haven't seen that one in a minute."

"Or, we can watch Degrassi or—"

"You definitely don't need to poison your brain watching that mess."

"You sound more like my dad than my dad." Seonghwa scoffs as he takes the remote and puts on Rogue One.

"You need to watch more educational things. Like Rogue One. Stepping into your powers and using them for good."

"They're a group of rebels, Uncle Hwa."

"A group of rebels preventing mass destruction!" Seora sighs as she sits back and finishes the rest of her ice cream, knowing her uncle is very much into Star Wars and lets him have it. It's quiet for a moment before she pops in again, asking about his plans for tonight.

"Have you decided?"

"On what? How I'd use my powers for good?" His eyes are trained on the tv.

"No, silly. If you're meeting Yoori." He looks at her before returning his attention back to the TV.

"Why does it matter if I do or not?"

"Uncle Hwa, you can do whatever you want. Just don't mess up because you're too afraid to admit your feelings."

"Hey!" He looks at her with a brow cocked up. "How do you even know about things like that?"

"I'm about to be 12."

"Yeah, you were born yesterday." She playfully rolls her eyes and scoffs. "You shouldn't be knowing things like that."

"Please. I am right, aren't I?"

"I don't know if I'm going to go yet because I have work tomorrow."

"I hear excuses." He gasps.

"Jeong Seora—"

"Yo!" Yunho walks in right at that moment, causing Seora to shift her attention to the door; tormenting her uncle now a long lost thought in her head.

"Dad!" Seora squeals and runs over to her dad, koala'ing him and causing him to laugh when she hangs onto him like tomorrow will never come. "You're home!"

"I am."

"How was your team dinner?" Seonghwa looks at him, wiggling his eyebrows while Seora is still preoccupied with grabbing her dad's attention.

"Date, you mean."

"What?" Yunho looks down at her.

"Uh, Uncle Hwa said you went out on a date." Yunho knits his brows at Seonghwa and all he can do is shrug.

"No, I never said that." Hwa cuts in to lie again. "I said team dinner. Anything else you heard was created by your own mind." Yunho glares at him.

"Did you?" Seora looks up at her dad, chin pressed against his chest while she keeps her arms around him.

"It was just a team dinner, is all."

"Sure." Seora sarcastically says before unwrapping herself from him and walking off to the bathroom. "It's fine or whatever, you know!" She shuts the bathroom door.

"See you've managed to talk to Seora about a lot."

"Sorry, it kinda slipped out." Seonghwa chuckles and Yunho mocks him. "Besides, she was just grilling me about Yoori."

"How did that happen?"

"Yoori texted me earlier asking if I wanted to come over while ace was putting in her order. She was scolding me right before you walked in. That girl is way ahead of her time."

"Been knew that." Yunho chuckles.

"How'd it go? Did you and Ara do anything?"

"Anything as in dinner, yes?" Yunho is confused, even though he knows exactly what Seonghwa is picking at.

"Okay.. and?" Yunho sighs and shakes his head.

"Kissed her but didn't go very far." He mumbles lowly.

"Why not?"

"I just wasn't feeling it, honest to god. I didn't wanna do that to her." At this point, Seora swings the door back open, causing both Seonghwa and Yunho to turn their attention down the hall before looking at each other.

"We'll talk about this later." Hwa chuckles a bit. "Should've gone all the way." He says barely above a whisper.

"No." Yunho almost scoffs while he grabs his things and prepares to head out. "Get out." Unbelievable.

"On my way, boss." Seonghwa laughs. "Let me go say bye to ace." He walks down the hallway, giving Seora another big, tight hug before heading out. Yunho gives him one last final goodbye before shutting the door and locking up for the night, heading in to catch up with Seora and hang out with her before the night ends.

"So, really dad. How did your team dinner go?" She smirks as she comes back outside and plops on the couch. Yunho chuckles a bit before shrugging.

"The usual. It was.. good bonding time."

"Hm." She hums. "That's good. What did you guys get to eat?"

"Ramen."

"A fine choice for this cold evening." He laughs.

"Wanna continue a few episodes before we call it a night? I'm just gonna change."

"Sure. Do you want me to grab you a bowl of ice cream? I made Uncle Hwa buy me some strawberry ice cream after picking up our burgers. Ice cream is the best when it's cold out."

"That sounds good, ace. Thank you." She smiles while getting up to grab a bowl of ice cream for her dad, excited to finally spend the rest of the evening with him all to herself.

"Dad! My friends are waiting." She pouts a bit, staring at her father as she stands near the passenger door, watching as he slips into his shoes.

"Seora, I promise you I'm coming." Yunho pats his jeans down before doing one final check around the house to make sure everything has been shut off post-breakfast. Meanwhile, you've parked your car near your parents' front gate, grabbing your bag from the front seat before looking at the house and letting out a sigh. You'd give your parents some time today, accompanying them to buy groceries and while running other errands. You knew it'd be a long day, but you did owe it to them.

You needed to do better, you reminded yourself.

Just as you're about to make your way towards the gate, a familiar face comes popping out of the next door house— causing you to pause in your motions and furrow your brows in pure, utter confusion.

Yunho?

"Hi?" You look at Yunho [clearly confused] as he hurries along to the driver's seat. He does a quick double take before pausing briefly, also giving you the same look you gave him a few seconds ago.

"Hey?" He says. "You're—"

"Yeah. My parents."

"Dad, please—" Seora swings the door open. "Oh my god— we're gonna be so late." He lets out a small sigh as he checks the time and realizes they won't be late— his daughter is just eager to get to her friends per usual.

"Seora." He calls her name once more. "You're not gonna be late, okay? Relax." He turns to you with a small smile. "Sorry. Gotta run. I'll talk to you later? Say hi to your parents for me." You give him a small nod before he slips in. You watch him talk to his daughter while slipping on his seatbelt, wasting no time to pull away and drive off shortly afterwards.

"Hey you!" Your mom says, coming down to unlatch the gate.

"Hey. Yunho is your neighbor?" Your eyes are still on the road.

"Yeah, you've met him before at work? I didn't think you two ever crossed paths at the hospitals."

"We don't, but we're working on a big project together now." Your mom smiles from ear to ear.

"He's a good man. Seora, she's growing up to be such a lovely young lady. They're sweet. Such peaceful neighbors. Cutest duo I know." She drags you inside. "Go say hi to your dad, he's in the sunroom watering his plants. Tell him we should eat so we can go." She starts prepping the servings. "Where's Wonwoo?"

"Busy." Your mom gives you a look. "But, we're coming back next weekend. He just made plans already and can't flake."

"I'm sure his friends would've understood if he told them he was visiting his parents."

"Mom. We're coming back next weekend, okay? Please let him be" Your mom gives you a look before setting the food down for a late breakfast while you greet your dad and give him a big hug.

"So, sounds like you met Yunho?" Your dad asks as you both walk back inside to finally before heading out to run errands.

"I did. Well, during a work meeting. Then, I just ran into him not too long ago. Looks like him and his daughter were in a rush to leave somewhere."

"He's taking her and her friends out shopping."

"And how do you know that, Miss Ma'am?" You look at your mom while she places a bowl of rice down in front of you.

"I pop in to check on them from time to time. I dropped off some of this food earlier so they could eat it later."

"Do you always bring them food?"

"Most of the time."

"Your mom cooks with them in mind." Your dad adds.

"Oh, hush. I feel bad for the two sometimes. Yunho's been doing it all by himself." Your mom clicks her teeth, mainly out of guilt and worry. The three of you continue to eat away at the food your mom prepared, getting some fuel in to save money on food. "His wife passed away when Seora was just 4 years old."

"Honey." Your dad says. "Can you not tell his whole life story?"

"Why not? I wanna know."

"Then ask him." Your dad says, suddenly getting protective of Yunho. "I know you feel bad, but you should let him tell his story if he wants to."

"Your dad is such a grump."

"Okay, no. He's kinda right." You agree before getting way too ahead of yourself. It is a sensitive subject, and it shouldn't be told by anyone else other than Yunho himself.

"He's a really good guy, though. You should get to know him. Wonwoo, too. Maybe you two will learn a bit more about discipline and spending time with your loved ones before it's too late." You roll your eyes even though there is truth to the statement.

"Anyway, enough about that. Where are we going today?"

"Well, we have a bunch of groceries to grab. I also need to stop by the pharmacy to pick up my medicine."

"We need to stop by the furniture store too. We've been planning to replace the couch in the living room because of the wear and tear. I think it's time." Your dad reminds your mom.

"Do you guys know what couch you want already or are we gonna shop there?"

"Gonna shop there."

"I do need to find a new shelf for my room."

"See, spending time with your parents can be beneficial."

"Dad, can you please tell her to stop?"

"Honey. She's here, okay? Your son is coming next weekend. All is well."

you: she's doing it again

wonwoo: sorry dude 😖 i'll be there next weekend to take it all

wonwoo: where are you guys going?

you: groceries, pharmacy, furniture shopping

wonwoo: actually sounds kinda fun

you: yeah? then why aren't you here, dumbo

wonwoo: i'm currently in a cabin near the south end 😎 living in peace

you: bye

While you've managed to peacefully eat the rest of your meal with your parents before heading out, Yunho and Mingi are walking around the department store while the girls go from floor to floor, section to section. They managed to snag some coffee before heading in, Yunho already exhausted from picking up Seora's friends to fighting over parking in the already-full mall garage. He's glad he finally gets a moment to chill out for a second, despite the girls squealing and being loud about how cute certain clothes or items are. He's already bought some of her stationary needs, along with a new color-way of Nike dunks she had been eyeing since release.

His wallet will be crying even more in due time, but it's all worth it if Seora goes home happy and content.

"Seora." She turns to look at her dad. "Not too far, okay?"

"Okay, we're just going over there to the juniors section!" Yunho and Mingi watch them speed off to the other corner before browsing the mens section nearby, Mingi already eyeing a jacket near the front racks.

"So."

"Just ask, Mingi." Yunho spits, making Mingi laugh.

"I see your date with Ara didn't go too well?"

"It wasn't even a date. I just went out to dinner with her and it was fine. We had a good time then, it was what happened after that didn't go well."

"Okay, so? What happened after?" Mingi sips his iced americano while the two of them continue to walk around the store, keeping the girls in eye view ahead.

"We went back to her place, she invited me in." Yunho shrugs. "We were watching stuff on her TV and things kinda escalated. Started kissing her then she tried pushing it further."

"And you said no?"

"Mingi." Yunho looks at him. "You know I'm not like that. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't do it to her. I just can't if I'm not emotionally tied to someone." Mingi nods.

"Nah, that's fair. And probably the right thing to do."

"Probably? It is the right thing to do."

"Right." Mingi responds, a bit distracted by the fine women passing by as they continue to walk around the store. "No, you're right. Sorry." He brings his attention back to his bestfriend. "Assuming Seora didn't know you went out with a lady friend?"

"I don't know, Hwa might've let it slip and I think she believed it but doesn't wanna ask. Or maybe, she doesn't even care." Yunho chuckles.

"I think she'd be fine with you going out on dates, you know? Maybe you don't have to lie to her about it. At some point, she'll need to know especially if you get serious with someone again."

"I'll open up to her about it when I get there. I'm in no rush, though."

"Fair."

"Randomly speaking, I finally saw one of Auntie Love and Uncle Po's kids today."

"Oh, really?"

"She works with me at the hospital. She's at the pediatric unit, though."

"Is she hot?" Yunho clicks his teeth and looks at him.

"Do you ever think about anything else?"

"I'm genuinely asking." Mingi smiles.

"She's pretty."

"What's her name?"

"No."

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Because you don't even know her."

"You want her for yourself, huh?" Yunho just pauses to look at his bestfriend, causing Mingi to smirk while continuing to project. "Selfish son of a bitch."

"I'll deck you—"

"Dad." Yunho and Mingi turn their attention to Seora and her friends, who each have a few clothing items hanging on their arms. "We're gonna go try these on." She points to the dressing room in the far corner behind the juniors section.

"Okay. Uncle Mingi and I will head over in a bit." He subtly elbows Mingi near the rib, causing him to let out a small 'ow.'

"Good, cause I wanna show you how it looks so hurry." She says, turning on her heel to rush over to the dressing room with her friends without batting an eye at her dad and uncle's antics.

"The fuck was that for? Seriously, do you have your eyes on Auntie Love and Uncle Po's daughter?" Yunho glares at Mingi again as they slowly head over to the dressing room.

"I don't know, okay? I barely know her." Yunho sips on his coffee. "We're gonna be working together quite a bit from now on though because of that new department."

"Interesting."

"Interesting?" Mingi gives him a look. "Why are you giving me that look? It was both you and Hwa who told me to put myself out there."

"Yeah, I'm very aware. And that's great! I just wanted to know if she was cute or not." Mingi laughs. "So, what's her name?" He asks again, making Yunho rolls his eyes and let out a sigh.

"Y/N."

"Pretty."

"That's all I'm telling you."

"Mhhhm." Mingi hums and laughs. "Hope it works out."

"Whatever happens, happens."

"Speaking of things happening— are you and Ara still friends?"

"I think so. We didn't end the night entirely on a bad note. At least, I don't think so. I felt bad and kept apologizing, but she said she understood and it was fine."

"You know it's never just that."

"Well, I'm aware I hurt her to an extent. I'm not gonna lie and try to brush that off."

"You think she'll talk to you if you run into her on Monday?"

"Maybe. I hope so. I really do want us to keep being friends."

"Of course."

"And who knows, maybe now just isn't the right time. It could work out later."

"Yeah, maybe. But also, if I can be frank, you really don't seem all that into her. I feel like that dinner would've gone way differently if you were set on her." Yunho shrugs.

"It's not her fault. She didn't do anything wrong."

"I mean, it's fine. You probably can already tell you aren't compatible, plus I know you're thinking about how Seora would get along with her, too."

"Mmyeah. I think she woud've liked Ara, but I think you're right. I don't think we'd be compatible."

"Isn't it kinda early to say that, though?"

"Dunno. You tell me. I'm just going off of my gut feeling. I can't force myself to feel a certain way."

"Touché." Mingi sighs. "It's alright, my guy. We still have time. You'll find someone. Maybe it's Y/N."

"Shut up." Mingi laughs before sipping on his coffee, distractedly heading back to the menswear to grab the jacket he had been eyeing this entire time. While he tries it on and pays for his item, Yunho sits near the dressing room while scrolling through his phone. He finds your Instagram page being recommended to him, which he finds to be somewhat uncanny now that he's been talking about you and running into you [despite being assigned to the same project at work]. He can't help but be nosey, clicking onto your page to scroll through your pictures.

You are pretty.

"Dad." Yunho shifts his attention from his phone to Seora, who is standing in front of him in beige cargo pants and an oversized baseball jacket that looks just like the one he's wearing at the moment. "What do you think about the jacket and pants?" Yunho smiles and nods.

"That looks good, ace."

"I really like that jacket of yours." She points and he nods.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've bought one for you at the time." She shrugs.

"I didn't think too much about it before. Now I want it." He laughs.

"It looks good."

"Okay, I'm gonna try on this one other shirt and sweater and I think I'll be good. Can I buy them?"

"If you promise me you'll wear it more than once."

"I promise!"

"Swear? I better not find it in your donation pile in the next few weeks."

"Dad, I pinky promise. For real."

"Okay then."

"Yay!" She turns her attention to her friends who are also coming out to show each other what they've been trying on. "Oh my god, that's so cute—" She says, heading back into the fitting room and leaving Yunho alone to your instagram page. He continues scrolling through slowly, peeking at your pics from your travels.

You and your friends that he recognizes from the hospital.

Your selfies where the natural light hits you perfectly.

Your candid photos where your smile is genuine and contagious.

You and your brother, your parents that he and Seora adore.

You really are pretty, and there's something about you that is enticing. Intriguing. A 'lil magnetic and alluring.

Maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing to work alongside of you on this project.

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies @yusalterego @hwa-stars @hyukssunflower @chngbnwf @jaytheatiny @lucid-galaxys-world @chaotic-floral @sofkloster

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catticry · 1 month ago

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‘Are those things really you? And if not, then what is?’

TMA OC + Statement | The stranger | Gosha (Tomasz Olbrych)

Tomasz Olbrych, lead singer of the 5 person band ‘Gosha’. Grew up as a kid with a love for singing, but a fear of performing for a large audience. After joining his friend’s band and becoming their lead vocalist he learnt to deal with the anxiety.

After years of successful performances with Gosha he lost himself in his stage persona and forgot who he was before their breakthrough. When he gets called in to fill in for a band last minute, he encounters a team of strange make-up artists who make sure his face is ready for the show…

Statement of Tomasz Olbrych, or Gosha, regarding his performances with his likewise named band.

Statement begins.

I used to hate performing when I was a kid. Ironic, isn't it? Considering where I am now, performing my music live in front of an even bigger audience than that little kid could have ever begun to imagine. It wasn't the acting, the singing nor the dancing I hated, it was the performance itself. In fact, I loved to sing and play my guitar back then too. I liked to do it when I was by myself, alone in my room without any prying eyes from people who had opinions. When I did plays at school, I'd always try to get the most insignificant role of the performance possible, or a task somewhere behind the scenes where the audience could not see me. I felt safer behind the thick red curtain instead of on the wide open stage.

I could only avoid participating in our shows so many times before a teacher started to notice. Everyone was expected to put in the work and perform their piece, they said. It didn’t matter how much I begged for them to exclude me, they wouldn't hear it. They’d nudge me forward and put me on the spot for everyone else to see.

That’s what I hated- all of those expectant eyes staring at me… wanting to be entertained. Surely enough the day came where the school had its little theatre show. Family members of my classmates and I flooded through the large doors to take their seats, ready to watch their children perform. Some kids acted out a short scene in homemade costumes, some of them danced to loud music in groups, and some of them showed off their skills on their favourite musical instruments.

My teacher had convinced me to play on my electric guitar and sing a simple song for our audience - despite my unenthusiasm. Something about ‘stepping outside of your comfort zone’. As I heard the teacher announce my name, I started to feel nauseous and short of breath. My hands trembled as I waited behind the curtain. I couldn’t do this, I wanted to go home! I turned to leave, but I was already ushered forward onto stage by kids behind me who were waiting for their own turns.

I stumbled forward. The stage lights directed towards the microphone were blinding and so hot they made my face break out in sweat. In a panic my eyes darted around the audience to find my mother, but I couldn't make out any of their faces against the harsh light. The fact I knew the crowd was there and that I could feel their eyes boring into me expectantly, but I couldn’t actually see them do it didn't make me feel any better. My throat closed up and my fingers curled around my guitar in a tense fist. I tried to fight back the stinging sensation I felt behind my eyes, but it was useless. They wanted to see a show... and I couldn't give them one.

It was humiliating to cry on stage in front of every kid in my year, including their family members and all of my teachers. I ran off stage as soon as I felt the tears run down my cheeks and hurried to lock myself in the bathroom.

That memory still keeps me up at night sometimes. That feeling of standing on stage, feeling so utterly wrong it hurts you at the very core of your being, while everyone stares at you like you’re insane for feeling that way.

It took me a long time to get over that feeling. If it hadn’t been for my roommate Daniel Gater who asked me to join his band when we were in our early twenties, I wouldn’t have been where I am now. I had my doubts when he first asked me, but it turned out I was a great fit for the band’s alternative style and joined them quickly after a few try-out sessions. I was the lead singer, Daniel was our guitarist, he was backed up by his boyfriend Nick Horton on the piano. Then there was our friend Joanne Avery on drums and Ezra Sampson from our school year, who was our bassist. When I played with them I felt composed, that sense of unease I felt on stage started to drift off into the background. We called ourselves ‘Gosha’ at Joanne’s request, she thought it was fun to combine our names together into one catchy band name. I didn’t really care for it, but the others were enthusiastic, so ‘Gosha’ it was.

We played together for years, eventually we got good enough to get small gigs. Sometimes people would come up to us after we finished to tell us they liked our music, or to book us for some other event. The band usually nudged me forward to talk to these people. I was the lead vocalist after all, the face of our band and the first thing people focused on when they saw us together.

We started breaking through when we were in our late twenties. At that point we decided to put some more effort into our stage presence. Daniel had always been a fan of dramatic make-up and flashy clothing so he suggested we try that. The idea of being on a stage dressed in bright clothing with make-up on my face made me a little nervous, it would surely draw extra attention. We got together and gave it a shot. Nick set me in front of a mirror and painted my face with a white face paint, and my eyes in a deep dark red. I saw my own face disappear in the mirror as he caked it with the dramatic make-up. As I watched him do his work in the mirror, I became an entirely different person in front of my very eyes. I thought it looked crazy at first, but that’s actually what I liked about it. There was absolutely nothing about this face that looked like me. This was the face of the band, the one people would think of first when talking about Gosha. I felt this surge of confidence. He was a new person who could play and sing and dance without being burdened by the weight of the audience's expectations. On stage I could be Gosha, at home I was just Tomasz.

We got a manager, Lila Price, and started playing more frequently, at bigger venues and for a larger audience. We’d even go on tours throughout the UK. The nights were long, we’d perform an entire show and then go to parties for the remainder of the night. The new lifestyle was… tough to keep up with. That’s what made me start drinking. I felt it helped me let loose on stage and give the audience the unforgettable performance they were hoping for.

Once I was out of my make-up and hunched over the toilet bowl for the entirety of the next day, I’d regret my decisions. I finally had time to myself at home and I made myself spend it in my bathroom. I wasn’t really happy when I was off stage either… my band and I didn’t hang out much outside of performances and I didn’t have any friends besides them. I’d sit in my bedroom alone and crave the attention I got when I was on stage. But those people didn’t care for Tomasz, they cared for Gosha.

One day I got a call from our manager, she told me a venue had contacted her to ask us to do a gig that very night. She gave me the details: the venue was quite new, I don't remember their name... it was something Russian I think. Apparently some band had to cancel last minute and they wanted us to fill in for them. I tried to protest, to say that a few hours wasn't enough time for us all to be ready, but she hung up on me before I could even begin to decline the offer. I hurried to call her back but it went straight to voicemail. This was so unlike her, she’d never arrange last minute gigs for us like this! After some time cursing to myself and collecting my things, I set out to drive to the location she sent me.

Sure enough, the evening rolled around and I arrived at the venue. The building looked fine. It was big, grey and unremarkable and I could see some damp stains on the outside brickwork. I saw the van we usually transport our gear in parked near the back entrance, so I figured they were probably already inside and waiting for me. I didn’t see anyone queuing up in front of the building's entrance, so I headed for the doors to register myself at the desk and hopefully find Lila.

To my relief, she was right there at the front desk talking to the woman behind it. Lila was quite short with long brown hair and usually wore her signature blue blazer, but today she seemed to have picked a more flamboyant and colourful option. She turned towards me and smiled when I greeted her. She told me everything was already set for my performance and started to lead me down the hallway that led into the backstage area. I found she was strangely upbeat for such a rushed evening, but I followed along regardless. Her unmoving optimism was so intense that I’d feel bad if I’d messed it up. I wanted to bring up how frustrated I was, but something about her voice, her smile, the way she moved just… made me feel uneasy. It was like her motions were a little too slow some times, and a little too fast the other. I brushed my feelings off and just thanked her for getting us the gig on short notice.

I expected to see my mates when I stepped into the backstage room, but they weren’t there. Lila reassured me that she already ‘took care of them’ and promptly turned around and left. What did she even mean by that? That was the moment where the frustration started to creep up on me again. It had already been a horrible few days full of hangovers, and now I was in this unfamiliar venue without any clue of what to do.

I got out my phone and dialled Daniel's number to ask where everyone was, but he did not pick up. I did my best to get here last minute while unclear on what the plan was, and they couldn’t even pick up when I called? I sat down on a slightly uncomfortable chair and decided to wait, the show didn’t start in a few hours anyway, we still had to do soundchecks too. Luckily the backstage room had drinks ready so I helped myself to… a few. It got me to calm down somewhat.

Soon after I was startled by the door swinging open with a loud thud from the handle hitting against the wall. I craned my head from my snoozing position on the chair to see who had entered so energetically. Lila was standing there in the doorway, and next to her stood two tall people who I did not recognise. They barged in without saying a word and started emptying their bags onto the vanity mirror. Behind them followed Lila who answered my questions before I could open my mouth. My make-up artists, she said. I stood up and shook my head. No, we did not have make-up artists. We applied it ourselves every show!

She told me to not worry and reassured me I was in good hands with that same optimistic smile from before. I grunted in response. At this point the evening had already been a confusing mess, so I didn’t have any words for her anyway. Lila left me backstage with these two artists I had never met before. Something about them made me feel uneasy. They were intimidating and slightly lanky. Both of them wore colourful make-up and bright clothing that looked like it was a few sizes too large for their bodies. Despite my nerves, I held out my hand for them to shake but instead of the introduction I expected, the taller one yanked me forward by my wrist. I stumbled into the vanity chair and they spun it around theatrically until I was face to face with myself in the mirror. My heart jumped, it was completely uncalled for after all!

I told them off for it, there was no need to be so aggressive about this! I was going to comply if my manager had arranged this for me somehow. I turned to snap at the taller one, but as I did I saw their face up close for the first time. It was… smooth. Unrealistically smooth. Like their skin was stretched taut over their skull without any creases in it. Make-up was plastered all over it, and at this distance I could see their faces were not what they looked like at first glance. Their eyes, their nostrils, even their smiles were painted on. It was at this moment that I realised that neither of them had spoken a single word to me so far. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, the way those eyes stared at me… or rather how they didn’t, rendered me speechless.

When they noticed my attitude towards them change, the taller one rushed to hold me down. The shorter one held up a tube of face paint to me in the mirror. My eyes darted from their face to the tube. Something about their expression made my heart sink. They held it up like it was some sort of torture tool they were about to use on me. The taller person’s fingers sank into my shoulder blades like needles, pinning me to the chair. Before I could scream, the shorter one yanked my head backwards and clamped my jaw shut. I tried to wrestle myself free, to scream for help, but it was no use. I gasped for air when I saw the short one hold up the sponge with the white paint and began to apply it to my face forcefully.

It wasn’t like any paint I’d used before. I felt a burning sensation wash over the areas they applied it to. At first I thought I was having some kind of allergic reaction to it, but that wasn’t it. It was as if my very skin was starting to boil, like the paint was being absorbed into my skin with a scorching heat. I screamed, yelled for them to stop or for someone to come help me, but it was no use. I was sure they were going to kill me, that my face was melting away like hot wax dripping down a melting statue in large gooey chunks.

The taller person increased their grip with surprising strength and looked me dead in the eyes when the shorter one finished applying the white paint. They held a finger up to their smile as the short one placed its cold bony thumbs just below my eyes and began to press. I grabbed its arms, trying to tear them away from my face but it was unmoving, like it had been bolted in place. I thought they were attempting to poke out my eyes, but when I saw the scene reflected into the vanity mirror, I saw they were applying the finishing touch to my make-up look… the dark red eye paint. They pressed harshly, etching the paint into my face. The sight of their unfaltering smile was the last thing I saw before the pain made me faint.

I woke up on the floor hours later… at least I assume it was, because as soon as I opened my eyes, Lila came in angrily gesturing to me about how I should be on stage already. I couldn’t really hear what she was saying. I felt disorientated. I looked around for the two… things that hurt me, but they were nowhere to be seen. I glanced at myself in the mirror, expecting to see my face burnt and bloody, but it was… normal, and the paint looked great. There wasn’t any injury to take note of whatsoever. I was starting to think I had dreamt the whole thing… maybe I drank too much and passed out on the floor after doing my make-up myself? Quickly, Lila began to usher me towards the stage door. I was still feeling nauseous and confused so I just complied without question. If everyone was already on stage, I couldn’t turn around and leave. There were people out here waiting for me… waiting for Gosha to start the show.

I stepped on the stage, mustering up all of the theatrical enthusiasm I could find within myself at the time. The air in the venue was thick and humid and smelt like the smoke from the haze machine. The bright stage lights hurt my eyes and they were so hot on my face I could feel sweat drip down my face. It reminded me of that awful dream. I greeted the audience enthusiastically, like I usually did at our shows. The large crowd roared with excitement. I was surprised to see how big the room was. The building had looked sizable from the outside, but I had never thought the room would be big enough to have several balconies. From what I could see every seat was taken. This made me feel another pang of nerves. Sure, I had played for large crowds, but I had never played for this many people before. I had to give this my all, I couldn’t disappoint them.

I jumped at the sudden sound of a drum and a riff off an electric guitar. I spun around to see my bandmates. I forgot we hadn’t actually met for a soundcheck tonight, but they were all set up and ready, smiling at me enthusiastically. Everything was so off. Their faces, their limbs, that dream… had it even been a dream? I was uncomfortable. Nothing made sense, but the crowd was looking at me expectantly. I felt their eyes bore into me, into my very being. I knew it, even though I couldn’t see their faces because of the lights. Despite my confusion- I had to deliver. Gosha had to deliver. I couldn’t let them know I was underprepared, I couldn’t let them know I was scared.

My band started playing our opening song, starting out with just one instrument. Nick played a steady rhythm on the piano to hook the audience and to introduce them to our sound. I followed his lead and started singing the lyrics to our song on autopilot as more instruments joined in. Ignoring my uneasiness, I put on a show as the music started picking up. We sounded so alive, and the audienced loved it. I could see they adored us. They cheered wildly for Gosha, several people even tried to reach up to the stage to touch me. Would they have wanted to touch me if I wasn’t on this stage and not in my make-up and costume? Would they want to when I was just Tomasz on the bathroom floor and at my worst?

No. Of course not. They did not love me, they loved Gosha. And I was here to play him for them.

That’s when I heard it- the saxophone. I was caught off guard - not that it didn’t sound good, the opposite actually, it really added something to our music. It was surprising to me because of the fact that no one in my band played the saxophone. I tried to spot which of us was playing it, but I couldn’t make out my friends’ faces through the thick haze of the fog machine. Then, another new instrument played. A trumpet. It was not part of our original song either. The tempo of the music started picking up, it was much faster than we had always played it before. I did my best to keep up.

A cello. A tuba. A violin. None of this was right, but the music was incredible. The crowd seemed to think the same thing. People danced. Wild hands waved in the air. They sang along to the lyrics at the top of their lungs. I started singing louder too. It was intoxicating to sing the lyrics as loudly as I could, putting all of my energy out through my vocal chords. The audience went crazy for it. They loved Gosha- they loved me. The more energy I put into the lyrics, the more wild they became. The dancing became thrashing, the waving hands started clawing, and the singing became screaming. People tried to climb over each other to get to the stage, their arms and legs contorting at strange angles. They were tearing each other up just to try and get closer to me. I felt as if something clicked within me. I smiled. They loved me. They really loved me.

As the music rose to its highest point, I gave it my all. My newfound confidence boosted my energy to really give that final note the fire it needed. I had never felt so connected to my music before. It was as if everything became one sound, the music, my band, the audience and I. When we hit the crescendo of our song, so did the screams of the crowd.

When I opened my eyes the following morning, I found myself at home, face down on my bed. I was still wearing my costume. Usually I’d wake up hungover after a gig, but today I felt great. I got up to stretch my muscles. That’s when I saw my hands. It took me a moment to register what exactly I was looking at.

Blood. They were covered in old brownish blood. My silver rings were crusted to my fingers because of the thick dried substance. I hurried to the bathroom to wash it off. As I scrubbed my hands clean I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror. It was equally as bloody and I was still wearing my facepaint. No matter how much soap and water I used, the paint would not come off. My make-up was stuck there, etched into my skin like a perfect tattoo.

All I could do was grin. I recalled the night before clearly. I know what I saw. I know what I did at my performance. I remembered how loved Gosha was, how loved I was. It all made sense. Tomasz could’ve never played like I did last night. He would have been scared. He would have ran off terrified with tears running down his cheeks. But not me, no, Tomasz was dead, and in his place stood Gosha.

#magpod #the magnus archives #magnuspod #tma #tma fanart #horror #illustration #tma oc #tma the stranger #gosha

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fictionalreads · 11 months ago

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This Was Never Meant to Be What It Feels Like

A/N: Hey y'all! I'm not really a writer so this is my first time posting any writing here on Tumblr, but I'm apparently incapable of not thinking about Armando (*Whatta Man by Salt-N-Pepa plays in my head) so this kind of...happened. I figured I'd share ☺️ Also, I know Armando thinks Aretas is his dad in the movies but I changed it a bit.

Title is from Satisfaction by SiR (if you haven't heard it do yourself a favor and go listen)

Pairing: Armando Aretas x Original Female Character

Fandom: Bad Boys Movies

Prompt: Shay (OC) wants to get to know Armando better and figures her best bet is to ask when he's...relaxed.

Warnings ⚠️: Uh...complicated parental relationships. Talk of smut, but no actual smut.

“Tell me something.”

“Hm?”

Shay kept her focus on drawing invisible shapes on Armando’s shoulder with her finger. Her blue stiletto shaped nails going down almost to his elbow before finding its way back up to his collar bone. It was something she did often after they had sex and she knew it calmed him much like it was now. His breathing had slowed into something calmer than the frantic breaths of ten minutes ago when he was trying to catch his breath. The open window blew in a decent ocean breeze, adding to the peaceful feeling in her bedroom. She tried to play it cool, like she wasn’t disturbing the moment, wasn’t asking him to do the one thing she knew he hated - opening up.

Shay had been seeing Armando for about three months now, and she knew next to nothing about the man. She knew it was a red flag, hell she knew he probably wasn’t a law abiding citizen, but she couldn’t help it.

There was something so magnetizing, so sensual about his presence. He commanded attention even though she got the feeling he wanted nothing more than to blend in and be lowkey. She couldn’t help but notice the way he held himself, the way he spoke and moved with the confidence of a man who was sure of himself. Don’t get her started on the way he smelled - it was divine and pure man.

The point was basically this - he was a ten but he refused to tell her more about himself.

Shay was determined to get to know him better, because despite playing things close to his chest, she was in love with him. She didn’t know his last name, but she knew he would bring her flowers and food if she was having a bad day just to make her smile. She didn’t know what he did for a living - honestly, part of her was glad for this if it was illegal as she was imagining. Plausible deniability. - but she knew if she needed him to, he would fix anything she needed him to or at least find someone who could. She didn’t know what his crucible entailed that made him like this, but she knew he loved her like she was something precious.

So she was taking the risk that this would blow up in her face. “Tell me something about you that I don’t know.” She kissed his chest, like she was softening the blow of the question. Not that she needed to, it was an open ended question on purpose. The more freedom she gave about the topic, the more likely he was to answer.

He gently shifted her to the pillow as he lifted himself on his elbow, facing her with a suspicious look on his face. “Like what?” God, what she wouldn’t give to take whatever hurt that made him so distrustful of her just wanting to know him away. Who had betrayed him? Who took advantage of his trust and made him so wary of genuine love?

She thought over her answer, a million topics coming to mind but needing to pick one that wouldn’t have him shutting down immediately. Armando had let the conversation start but he could end it if she said the wrong thing.

“Your family.” She could feel him pulling away as if it was physically happening so she quickly explained her choice. “Did you grow up with siblings? Are your parents married?” Bare minimum.

It seemed to have worked he looked at her as if debating what to say, if anything, before laying back down and staring at the ceiling. The relaxed man that was in her bed mere minutes ago, gone. Now he was tense, as if ready for a fight. She slowly and obviously resumed her previous position on his chest, giving him time to tell her no if he needed the space. Her nails went back to their drawings in the hopes of calming him enough to talk. He took a breath before, “I grew up an only child. My mom was my world, she taught me everything I knew.”

Her nails stopped moving. “Was?” It was the word that caught the most of her attention out of everything he just said.

“She passed away a few years ago.” His face was blank, as if he was just stating a fact of life rather than talking about the death of the person that raised him and whom he clearly loved.

Shay rubbed the shoulder she wasn’t laying on in an effort to comfort him.“I’m sorry to hear that.” Armando shrugged it off but she could tell it still hurt him. “What about your dad?”

“Our relationship is…complicated at best. He wasn’t around for most of my life. We were introduced a few months before my mom died. I didn’t even know who he was to me until my mom told me on her deathbed.”

“You never asked your mom about him before?”

“If there was one thing I knew about my father growing up, it was that my mom hated him. She always told me that he left us behind and didn’t look back at all. As a kid I was curious but as I got older, I started to hate him too. I mean he was supposed to love my mom, and he turned on her and left me behind like I was trash. Fuck ‘im. Now I know it wasn’t so black and white.”

“How so?”

“The few times my mom spoke about him, she always heavily implied that he knew she was pregnant with me and left anyway. Looking back, she never said the words. When I confronted my father about it, he said they were a doomed couple that wasn’t ever going to last. They were both too selfish. Said he didn’t even know she had been pregnant until we met.”

“Sounds like he cares. I mean if he knew do you think he would have been around?”

“There’s no doubt in my mind he would have been there, raised me. I know he loves me, that he just wants what’s best for me, but I’m just having a hard time accepting it. I spent so much time hating him that reconciling this truth with this perception I’ve always had of him is hard.”

“Not to mention it means confronting that you didn’t know your mom as well as you thought you did. The woman she was to you isn’t the woman she was to others.”

“And she’s not here to explain it, which just makes me mad all over again. He’s usually the target of my anger.”

“Makes sense to me.” She shrugged in response to his questioning look. “He’s here. Add in the fact that he wasn’t there for so long its easy to blame him for a lot.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Like a flip had been switched, he once again moves her onto the bed and hovers over her.

“Enough about them. Talking is not exactly what I had in mind for us tonight,” he pleads.

She could see the desperation and fear in his eyes. She had a feeling that being that honest with her scared him. He wasn’t exactly the vulnerable type and telling her all this put him on display in the most raw way, an unknown for him. It also meant he had to be honest with himself about he felt, something she didn’t think happened a lot. He wanted to escape the real hurt he was feeling about it all, he didn’t want to face what the truth might mean for his memory of his mother. If a reprieve is what he needed, she could do that for him. She would do that for him.

She bit her bottom lip, looking at him through her lashes, feeling herself get wet at his suggestive tone and slight touches. “What did you have in mind?”

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

The next morning she woke up alone, his side of the bed cold. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence as he often left before she woke. She was used to him leaving and coming back randomly, sometimes being gone for days. After their conversation and the way he seemed to just need her last night, she figured this was coming. Something told her him leaving was different this time, that she had pushed him too far. She had the sickening feeling that he wasn’t coming back.

Round two had been fast and rough, needy in a way. Round three had been teasing and playful, like he was apologizing for being so rough before. Round four was…slow and passionate, reverent almost.

It felt like a goodbye.

A/N: 🫣So how'd I do? Let me know in the comments. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated! OH AND HOW SHOULD I TAG THIS?! Anything I should add to get more people to see it?

Part 2 Part 3

#armando aretas #armando lowrey #Armando x oc #armando aretas fanfic #Armando aretas x oc #Bad boys #original female character #fanfiction #baby's first fanfic post #jacob scipio #celebrity #imagine #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life #minors dni

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badkitty3000 · 9 months ago

Text

Five's Audition Tape

So, here's another one-shot I wrote a little while ago that I originally never intended on posting. But as I try and work on some new things, I figured I'd put this out there. It's another sweet, funny, sexy glimpse into the life of Five and his wife Vivian from my original series Halo. If you enjoy this one, you might like my full one-shot series of my two favorite horny lovebirds.

Summary: Vivian catches Five singing in the shower and secretly records the evidence. When she's caught, she tries to hide from him, which ends in some major rearranging of their kitchen pantry. What she doesn't know, though, is that their little closet bang is not the private moment they intended.

Five x Female OC, 4,179 words, one-shot

Warnings: Smut, Closet sex

Five thought it was a safe space. He thought he was alone. Alone and free to sing loudly and unabashedly in the shower without fear of judgment. He was very, very wrong. Because if there was one thing his wife lived for, it was catching him doing something stupid and using it for her own, personal gain.

No one would ever have thought in a million years that Number Five Hargreeves not only knows the lyrics to Shaggy’s 2000 hit Angel, but also secretly loves it and sings it at the top of his lungs when no one else is around. No one would have thought he’d do the accent when he sang it, either. But yet, there he was, scrubbing his hair behind the safety of the shower door, and singing lines like:

Looking back Shorty always a mention

Said me not giving her much attention

She was there through my incarceration

I wanna show the nation my appreciation

Unfortunately for Five, he was not alone in the house like he thought he was. Vivian just happened to get home from work early and had come upstairs to change when she heard the speaker in the bathroom blasting out the Reggae-heavy song, accompanied by her husband’s very bad Jamaican accent.

She froze in place outside of the bathroom door, one hand on the doorknob and the other over her mouth to suppress her glee. She didn’t even know what to do first, she was so excited. Should she barge in and surprise him, scaring him and embarrassing him at the same time? Should she keep it to herself as ammo for the next time he annoys her? Or should she sneak in, record an audio clip on her phone, and send it out to his entire family? The choice was obvious.

With her phone in hand, Viv slowly and as quietly as possible turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. The music was playing loud enough that he shouldn’t have been able to hear her enter, and he couldn’t see through the frosted glass of the shower door. Still, she crept in on tiptoes, her phone already recording his secret bathroom concert. As she bit her lip to stifle the laughter that threatened to peal out of her at any second, Five continued to sing about his darling angel being closer to him than his peeps.

After she had recorded several seconds of it, she turned around to sneak back out the door. As she turned, though, her sleeve caught on a bottle of lotion next to the sink, tipping it over with a loud thump. Viv froze in place and Five immediately stopped singing. There was a brief pause of silence, and then the shower door flew open with a bang, revealing Five standing there with a deep frown of confusion on his face. Their eyes locked for a second before he looked down to the phone in her hand and then back up at her face. Viv broke into a grin. Then she made a run for it.

Normally, this would be a futile effort, since no matter how fast or far she tried to get away from Five, he always popped up in a blue flash, cutting her off from her escape with a cocky smile. But she had caught him off guard this time, and when she sprinted out of the bathroom, she slammed the door behind her so that he didn’t get a good look where she went running off to. By the time Five got his wits about him and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist, she was long gone. Hidden somewhere in the house.

As Five began blinking randomly around the house, disappearing and reappearing in different rooms and closets, he smiled to himself. He was well trained in the art of tracking and hunting another human, but this was a very different game of cat and mouse they were playing. And he was most definitely going to be preying on this particular little mouse when he eventually caught up with her. Five stopped when he blinked into the living room. He pushed a hand through his wet hair and ran his tongue over his teeth with a smile.

“You know I’m going to find you, Vivie,” he called out. “You are a terrible hider and you can’t walk more than two feet without stepping on something or knocking something over.” He stopped and listened, but the house remained silent. “Brat,” he muttered to himself with a laugh.

He continued his blink-and-seek game, teleporting everywhere he could think of that she may have gone. He even blinked up to the attic, which he knew she couldn’t have easily gotten to, and almost bashed his head on the low rafters. She actually had him stumped for a minute, until he appeared in the kitchen and heard a noise. It was quiet, but he’d definitely noticed it. It was a crunching sound, like the sound of gravel beneath a shoe. Five smirked as he honed in on the location of the noise. In one perfectly calculated blink, he rematerialized inside the food pantry closet.

“Gotcha,” he declared just as Viv shrieked and took a step back, her back hitting the shelf behind her and knocking over another packet of crackers that had given her away in the first place. Five was right, she was a bad hider.

Five held her by her upper arms, a devious grin spreading across his face in the dim light, and squeezed his grip tighter. Viv was breathing hard from running and from being startled, but she laughed breathily.

“Hi, honey,” she said sweetly. “How was your shower?”

“It was very nice until I was rudely interrupted. Now tell me, my love, what were you doing with your phone?” Five glanced over at the shelf where Viv had set the phone, the screen still lit up with the family group chat ready to go. His green eyes flitted back to her face as she tried not to laugh again. “Oh, you think this is funny?”

“Do I think walking in on my elderly-but-not-really, ex-assassin, hard-ass, time-traveling husband singing a 2000’s Reggae/rap song in a fake Jamaican accent is funny and I need his entire family to hear it?” She beamed up at him with fluttering eyelashes. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

Five sighed loudly, tilting his head back before meeting her eyes again with a pitying look. “You know what’s going to happen now, don’t you, angel?”

Viv’s nervous swallow was audible in the small space they occupied. “You’re going to blink us both out of this closet and you’ll forget all about it?”

Five closed in on her, his half-naked body still damp with beads of water from the shower, his hair falling in pieces onto his forehead. He leaned in until his mouth was next to her ear, rubbing his cheek against hers.

“Wrong,” he whispered darkly.

He pressed up against her, pushing her harder against the shelves, the towel around his waist doing nothing to disguise his rapidly hardening erection. He moved his hands down to her wrists and held them tightly as he breathed hard against her neck. Viv could feel his damp hair tickling her face; his chest flush with hers.

“I do love it when you misbehave like this. It really gets me going.”

“Five,” Viv weakly protested, letting out a small laugh. “We’re in the kitchen pantry and our son is going to be home very soon. I’m not going to…”

She was cut off by Five’s thigh that he shoved between her legs, as well as the sharp nip he gave her neck as his hands tightened on her wrists.

“You’ll do what I tell you to do,” he hissed. “And right now I’m telling you to turn around and get that skirt up.”

It was dark in the closet, but enough light was coming in from around the door to illuminate Viv’s face so that Five could see the flicker of a smile cross her lips and that look in her eye that meant she liked what she heard. After years of marriage, he could read her like a book. And even if he couldn’t, the rapid change to her breathing would be a big hint.

She looked him in the eyes and whispered. “Let go of my wrists, then.”

Five let his grip on her go and Viv slowly turned around, just like he told her to; her ass brushing against him in the process because of the close quarters. She reached down and hiked up the hem of her pencil skirt, pulling it all the way up to her waist before grabbing onto the wire shelves containing their household dry goods with two hands. She pushed back against him as he let out a dark chuckle.

“Sometimes I think you do things just so you can be punished.”

With a firm tug on her hips, Five pulled her back, the large tent of his towel pressing harder against her backside. Viv’s hands tightened onto the shelves as she felt the towel drop to the floor and Five’s fully erect cock sprang to attention before rubbing between her ass cheeks and the thin material of her panties. His mouth was on her neck, hard and rough, as he started to mark the space next to her shoulder with his teeth. He let out a groaning sigh as he moved to another spot to do the same thing.

“What do you think, bad girl…” he mused quietly as his lips traveled to a new, unmarred area of her neck. “Are you wet enough for me yet?”

Five’s hand found its way around to her front, his long fingers creeping into the side of her panties and sliding up through her silken folds. He paused to bite down on the other side of her neck as a loud gasp caught in her throat. He continued his exploration, spreading her slick over her entire swollen heat, ending at her clit and expertly massaging it. Viv rocked her hips back and forth, wanting more pressure from his hand in front and his cock from behind.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Five smirked as she whimpered sweetly for him.

He considered his options of pushing her underwear to the side or removing them completely. He liked the idea of sliding inside of her while she was still fully clothed. But he also wanted as much access as he could get, so he removed his hand and shoved them down her hips so that they dropped to the ground around her feet. Viv automatically stepped out of them, her heels tapping on the floor as she readjusted and spread her legs apart.

Five wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her in tightly while using his other hand to position himself against her entrance, pushing inside of her with one thrust. The low growl he let out mixed with her moans as he bent her over as far as possible in the small space.

“That’s…oh yeah…that’s good,” Viv whined, hanging her head down and closing her eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling, but I need to fuck you hard,” Five warned, his voice tight with restraint.

Viv nodded eagerly. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

He didn’t say anything else, just started pounding into her. Viv clutched onto the shelves tighter, Five’s hands wrapping around hers and squeezing them hard to steady himself as he nailed his wife from behind. The shelves began to shake and squeak loudly with the activity, the items on top of them shifting and falling over.

“Fi-ive…f-uu-ck…”

“Too much?” Five rasped between gritted teeth, continuing to drive his dick deeper and harder inside.

“Nooo…” Viv moaned. “No…keep going…more…”

“That’s my girl.”

Five’s grip tightened even more as he concentrated on giving her the fuck of her life. The added intensity shook the shelving unit harder; boxes of pasta and cereal, containers of rice, cookies, and crackers falling over and spilling onto the ground. Viv narrowly missed getting hit by a can of soup that rolled off the top shelf and loose Froot Loops were being crushed into brightly colored powder beneath Five’s bare feet.

“I. Love. You. So. Goddamn. Much.” Five was grunting with each thrust, his hips slapping against her ass while she made little whimpering noises, biting at her lips. “Even when you’re an evil little brat.”

Five…Five…I need…” she was gasping, trying to suck in air and talk at the same time.

“What, baby…tell me.”

“I need my hand,” Viv pleaded, trying to free her hand from under his.

Five let go of his right hand so she could release her own before grabbing back on again for leverage. Viv’s hand dropped down between her legs to finger herself while she was being railed as hard as possible.

“Vivie…” Five grated out, his voice hoarse. “I can’t keep…fuck, you feel so good!”

With Five’s amazing cock slamming viciously inside her and aided by her own fingers, Viv’s orgasm rippled through her body, her muscles contracting as she tried to hold back the loud screams that threatened to erupt out of her.

“Fuck!” Five yelled, clearly not concerned with his volume level, despite the fact that they may not have been alone in the house, or in a private area.

His own climax seemed to last forever as he pressed hard against her, pushing her against the shelves until her body was being crushed. The adrenaline from the intense finish masked the pain Viv normally would have felt if her chest was being smashed into the blunt edge of a pantry shelf. With their bodies starting to relax and their breathing still loud and gasping, Viv brought her arm up and rested her head on her forearm as she closed her eyes and sighed happily.

Five held her to him for a little longer, before slipping out of her and kissing the back of her neck. After a few more heaving breaths, Five moved aside so that Viv could straighten up and pull her skirt down.

“Now hand over the evidence,” Five panted, holding his hand out, palm up.

Viv had almost forgotten what landed them in the closet in the first place, and she glanced around. She saw the glowing light of her phone that had fallen onto the floor, along with all the food items. With a short laugh, she dove for it before Five could get at it.

“No chance in hell,” she smirked.

“Vivie…I swear to god if you send that to my—”

At that moment, from one of the upper shelves, an opened bag of flour tipped on its side and came crashing down, creating a giant plume of white dust that settled over everything and everyone in the tiny closet. They both cried out in horror.

As they stood there, covered head to toe in flour, with pulverized food debris and questionable other things on the floor, they blinked at one another in stunned silence. Viv was the first to start, beginning with a quiet snort that quickly devolved into her doubling over with laughter, then coughing from inhaling flour dust. As she tried to both laugh and cough at the same time, Five started in with a low chuckle while shaking his head like a dog to free the thick layer of white powder from his dark hair.

Just then, they both heard a noise from outside the pantry door. It was the sound of footsteps getting closer, followed by the voice of their son singing along quietly to some song that was playing on the noise-canceling headphones he seemed to wear at all hours of the day and night. As it turned out, this was a good thing, because neither one of them were entirely sure how loud they had been or how long he had been home. And even if they had kept their own noises to a minimum, the sound of crashing dry goods all around them should have been loud enough.

Viv’s eyes widened, knowing their teenage son was bound to be headed to the closet that housed all of the snacks. She looked up at Five, who read her mind and quickly grabbed her arm before blinking them out of there and into their bathroom upstairs.

As James headed in the direction of the sugary treats he was craving, he noticed the unmistakable flash of blue light coming from behind the closed door of the pantry. There were only two people in the house that could have made that particular color of light and he was one of them. He frowned before continuing closer. He took the headphones off and left them hanging around his neck.

“Dad?” he called, confused as to why in the hell his father would be inside a closed kitchen pantry. “What are you…”

James opened the door and stared inside. He wasn’t sure how a tornado could have ripped through one tiny closet while sparing the rest of the home, but that’s what it looked like. A dense cloud of flour still hung in the air and he waved his hand in front of his face and coughed. It was empty of any people, but it was certainly filled with a giant mess.

Boxes, cans, and plastic containers that once stored various food items were knocked over and either lying on their sides or upside down. Dried pasta and beans were mixed with a million grains of rice scattered into every crack and crevice of the floor. When he looked down and saw the remains of his favorite cereal which was now nothing but a bright pink and blue powder, he groaned sadly.

“No! Not my Froot Loops!”

Then he realized what else he was looking at. There, on the floor in a heap, and covered in a thick layer of white flour, was a wet bathroom towel and a pair of women’s underwear. James’ face fell and he couldn’t decide whether to scream or vomit. He clenched his teeth together and balled up his fists, unintentionally mimicking his dad.

“Seriously? In the food?” he grumbled out loud to himself. Then he threw his head back and yelled in the general direction of the upper floor, where he now knew his parents had escaped to. “You guys owe me a box of Froot Loops! And stop being so gross! People eat in here!”

There was no answer, but he sighed angrily and stuck his headphones back on, blinking himself one of the last bags of chips that were still intact before stalking back to his bedroom.

“And they wonder why I don’t want my friends to come over. Maybe because my parents are the two most disgusting people on the planet,” he muttered to himself while shoving a handful of Doritos into his mouth. “This family is so fucking embarrassing.”

Five had managed to blink himself and Vivian into their bathroom upstairs, which was now also covered in flour. Still stifling their laughs, they rinsed off in the shower, trying their best not to make a paste out of the mixture of water and flour in their hair. After cleaning up and toweling off, Viv was squeezing out the water from her hair when Five remembered something.

“Hey, where’s your phone? You still need to delete that shit off there.”

Viv eyed her phone on the bathroom counter and quickly grabbed it, clutching it to her chest. “No way, I’m not deleting that. That’s pure gold!”

“Vivian…” Five started in a threatening manner.

She smiled. “I promise I won’t do anything with it unless you piss me off or I need blackmail for something. Besides, it’s adorable.”

Five huffed. “Shut up.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up. You wouldn’t want to make me mad now, would you? There’s no telling what I might do…” She playfully held up her phone, pretending she was going to send something to the family group chat that had already been opened before their closet fucking had started.

Five frowned. “Why is the text thread blowing up?”

Viv turned the screen toward her and saw that new messages were flying in, one after another, all from Five’s siblings.

Diego: Holy shit, I almost crashed the fucking car

Luther: What the hell? 🤯

Lila: Oh god, I just threw up in my mouth

Luther: This was so much worse than walking in on you

Diego: Seriously, what is wrong with you two?

Viktor: I need to wash my ears out. With bleach

Klaus: Hey, what are we talking about?

Luther: I cannot express to you how much I never want to hear that again

Lila: Vivian, I have lost all respect for you

Klaus: Seriously, what’s going on? I accidentally left my phone on the bus for 5 hours and I just got it back. Eww, it’s sticky

Viktor: Please lose my number

Sloane: Really…that was pretty bad you guys

Diego: You are no longer invited to family game night

Lila: I hate you both

Klaus: Oh hey, there’s an audio message on here!

Luther: There is a child living in your home. Did you think about that? No, you only think of yourselves

Sloane: I’m sure he wasn’t home

Lila: I bet he was. Poor thing. I’m calling social services

Viktor: She’s just kidding, guys, no one is calling social services. But still…gross

Diego: The worst part is that I had just picked up some Thai food. Can’t eat now. Thanks a lot

Klaus: 🤣🤣🤣💀💀💀

Klaus: Didn’t think I could die but I just did

Klaus: I’m keeping this for future use. Next time send a video, I need a visual for maximal effect 🍆✊💦

Luther: Klaus, you’re disgusting!

Diego: Don’t yell at him, he doesn’t know any better. The other two know that it’s wrong. So, so wrong

Lila: Did there have to be dialogue? Can’t you shut up for the two seconds it takes you to blow your load Five? I can’t unhear that

Viktor: This is now the top most traumatizing thing I’ve had happen in my life. Which says a lot

Luther: You two have some serious issues, you know that?

Klaus: Has anyone seen my red sparkly belt? I need it for tonight

Diego: Klaus, how can you ask that now? And no, no one has seen your stupid belt

Klaus: Oh, are we still talking about the Fivey Fuck Fest? I thought we moved on

Lila: I want out of this family

Sloane: If I have to be here, so do you

Luther: I think we need to establish some rules for this group chat

Diego: Who made you ruler of the group chat? But yeah, we do

Luther: Rule #1: NO SEX IN ANY MEDIA FORMAT ON THE FAMILY TEXT THREAD

Luther: Everyone in agreement?

Diego: 🙋‍♂️

Lila: 🙋‍♀️

Viktor: 🙋‍♂️

Sloane: 🙋‍♀️

Klaus: 👎

Luther: Great, majority rules

Five stared at the phone, then back at Vivian, then back at the phone, his eyebrows crunched together.

“Did you…did we…”

Viv cringed. “I think so, yeah.”

Five pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes to gather himself. “Let me get this straight. You just sent an audio message of us doing it, loudly, to my entire family?”

“It would appear so, yes.”

“Vivian!” he cried, throwing his hands in the air.

Viv pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “It was an accident!”

“An accident that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t think you were so fucking funny and recorded me singing in the shower!”

The giggles she had been holding back started to bubble out. “I’m sorry. But it’s a little funny, don’t you think?”

“Not really, no.”

“Oh.” Viv snorted back a laugh and then fixed her face in an attempt to look serious again. “At least it was a good performance by you. I mean, it could have been worse.”

Five narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? When is it not a good performance?”

“Oh my god, Five! You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be.” She looked down at her phone and started typing.

“What are you doing now?” Five asked.

“Trying to apologize…hang on…wait, why can’t I…oh those assholes!” she said, looking up at Five in shock.

“What?”

“They removed us from the group chat. What the fuck?”

Five stood there for a minute and then he started laughing. “Now, that actually is funny.”

Viv grinned. “Now I kind of want to do it again. Just to fuck with them.”

Five leaned in to kiss her. “I have no problems doing that again. But let’s keep the next session a little more private, shall we? And maybe with a little less involvement of unsecured baking ingredients.”