#she says she wants to get in shape but she's not that out of shape and also if she wants to do that she should probably eat more so she has

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (13)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: the elections distracted me! This should have been up ages ago 💙 Anyhow, look at our boy pout up there. Darling never stood a chance.

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Darling gets closer to making her choice.

The holiday is already shaping up to be your most memorable one yet, and it’s only halfway done. 

Between all the commotion in the press about Ewan’s film, the lively spin-the-bottle game last night, and your… boys being more brazen in their affections, it doesn’t matter that you’re still half-limping and that one gorgeous blonde girl is testing the limits of your patience—Mallorca is one for the books.

Half of your vacation crew decided to head out into town for the afternoon, allowing you to see more of the local scene. Bethany, Phia, Luke, and Elliott have ventured off to see some shops moments prior, promising to rejoin the group with loads of goodies. So you walk the cobblestone streets with Tom and Freddie on either side, the lads promising to catch you should your ankle ‘betray you and make you faceplant on the street’. 

Because, as Freddie put it, they “can’t have the show’s rising star with a blow to her money-maker,” pertaining to your lovely face. 

You were able to finally remove your fracture boot that morning, after a long-distance call to your doctor, but you still have to slightly drag your left leg as you walk.

“Mate, if you could hurry up a little, maybe we can see more of the town,” Tom remarks with a cheeky smirk. He’s had an arm looped around yours the whole time, ever on the lookout. 

“Sure, let me just use my incredible powers of self-healing. Maybe we can check one of these souvenir shops if they’ve got a bionic leg on sale,” you deadpan, fighting hard to stifle a laugh. 

The fledgling weeks of spring bring a steady warmth to Mallorca. The sunlight is bright yet tempered as it casts its glow over the cobblestone streets, illuminating the quaint storefronts and cafes that line that town square. It’s a picture-perfect afternoon, so long as you don’t turn back to Ewan and Louise who are trailing a bit behind. 

But your curiosity wins over, and you see Ewan smiling politely as Louise gestures animatedly, completely absorbed in her tale. You immediately realise your mistake, a pang of something—guilt, longing, confusion… and jealousy, because who are you fooling—tightening in your chest. You quickly turn back to Tom and Freddie, who are too busy scheming to notice your reaction.

“So, do we let Ewan suffer, or do we intervene?” Tom asks, tilting his head toward the pair.

You can only shrug. “I think he’s handling it. It’s probably better to give them some space.” The truth is, you know Ewan well enough to sense when he’s at his wit’s end, and even though he looks like he’s about to throw in the towel, you don’t want to complicate things further. 

Who are you to deny Louise some quality time with your good buddy Ewan Mitchell? He is a stand-up guy, after all, and all of you are friends here. It’s a casual day out, nothing but a good time. 

And… you do need some time to let his confession sink in. He has given the power to you, and the only thing left to do would be to choose him.

You love him, you love him, you love him. 

So the choice should be easy, but why isn’t it?

Freddie smirks. “Space, you say? You mean you’re hoping he’ll finally snap and make a break for it?”

“Maybe,” you admit with a small smile. “Can you blame him?”

The three of you linger by a cafe, chatting to your heart’s delight. You catch sight of Ewan glancing your way, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. Hey, he mouths, staring you down until Louise nudges him, and he has to shift his focus back to her. 

“Honestly, though,” Tom continues, “what’s the deal with him and Louise? He looks like he’s drowning over there.”

“Maybe she’s finally wearing him down,” you say, half-joking, but you’re aware of how often Ewan gives too much of himself sometimes, especially to someone like Louise. The boy’s just too sweet and polite to say no. 

“I give him five minutes before he either leaves or starts shouting for you,” Freddie chimes in, his eyes dancing behind his sunglasses. “It’s a safe bet.”

Before you can respond, Ewan’s voice rises above the clamour of the street. “Actually, that’s not what I meant—”

“I can’t believe you thought that!” Louise interrupts, playfully punching Ewan’s arm, her tone a mix of disbelief and enthusiasm. “But that’s what makes you so unique! You always see things differently.”

What’s unique is the expression Ewan sports as a reaction, akin to a deer about to be hit by a Jeep.

“Unique?” Ewan repeats, a note of incredulity in his voice. He shakes his head, his mouth falling open, like he’s trying to find the words. Louise leans in closer, mentioning something about how cute he looks when confused. 

Well, she’s not wrong there. You have to hand it to her—she’s persistent.

“Why are we just standing around?” Tom suddenly says. “Let’s get some drinks. We need to fuel up for the gossip you owe us.”

“I’m in,” you say a bit too quickly, desperate for a distraction. You motion toward a quaint nearby bar with a bustling atmosphere. It seems like the perfect refuge, far from the intensity of the current situation. The bartender greets you with a grin, and Tom takes charge, ordering a round of brightly-coloured cocktails that seem to match the vibe of the holiday. 

Tom gives you a sly look over his glass. “So here we are, eh?”

“Here we are,” you nod, sensing something coming round the corner. 

“My god, this cocktail is amazing!” Freddie gasps dramatically, oblivious to the look you and Tom are sharing. “I must know what’s in this… Is that gin and… and what?”

“I myself would rather know,” Tom begins, leaning forward, “about the truth behind all the drama. The are-they-or-aren’t-they of it all. My missus has also been bugging me about it. All she talks about is you and your Ewan.” 

Freddie’s grin is huge as he raises his glass. “Bloody hell, cheers to that then! I know there’s something brewing, but no one ever tells me the details. What is this, a fight to the death? May the best Targaryen win? Lucky girl you are.”

Tom snorts. “Or may the right man win. Which, to be honest, is not Matt in this scenario.”

Freddie’s jaw drops in mock horror, clutching his chest. You may take the lad out of classical theatre for a while, but you can’t take classical theatre out of the lad. “Excuse me? Matt is a national treasure, he’s mature and reliable, and he throws a fabulous party. Might I mention how highly he speaks of you?”

Tom shoots him a scornful look. “Reliable. How riveting. Look, I love the guy, but Ewan’s practically half of her soul—”

You groan. “Can we not turn this into a debate? I’m actually trying to keep things simple now.”

“Simple,” Tom repeats, one blonde eyebrow arching. “Darling, nothing about this is simple, especially not since Ewan isn’t bound to that ridiculous PR setup anymore. Are you going to pretend that it doesn't change things?”

Freddie waves a finger. “It doesn’t have to change things. Matt’s good for her. I mean, they’re actually happy, and you need someone solid, love. Someone who isn’t going to fling you around emotionally, from the very little that I’ve heard.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “Of course, you’d think that. You get all your goss from Liv and she basically adores Matt.”

Freddie clutches his glass defensively. “Well I know for a fact that Matt is fun! And steady! You don’t need fireworks all the time to make something work.”

“But fireworks are the whole point, you know?” Tom insists. “You can’t reduce a relationship to sensible compatibility and call it love.”

“Love can be practical too,” Freddie says, looking at you. “Wouldn’t it be nice to just…breathe? To not have to worry about how he’s going to handle things every other minute?”

You wince, half-convinced by Freddie’s logic, but then Tom’s voice cuts in, softer, more serious.

“Sure, she could breathe,” Tom says, “but let’s not forget who actually takes her breath away.”

It hits you, the truth you’ve been dancing around with both of them.

Freddie gives you a sidelong look. “Alright, love, confession time. Say Ewan was still bound to that PR relationship, do you really think you could have handled not being with him? Watching him essentially be with someone else?”

You swallow, glancing down at your drink. “It would have hurt, but I would have had to handle it.”

Tom keeps the interrogation going. “And now? What would you do if he does end up with someone else? Louise seems to have her claws in him.”

You let out a huff, your next words decisive. “Look, if she can take him that easily, then he’s all hers.” Because that would mean all those heartfelt phrases about being so in love with you aren’t true. 

That’s the reasonable part of you. The other, less savoury part wouldn’t hesitate to get your own claws in Louise if she swoops in to take your man, petty catfight style.

“But see! See here,” Freddie exclaims in glee, “We’re talking about Ewan and she’s already stressed. She needs a break from the drama, Tom, and Matt is like… an oasis.”

Tom rolls his eyes but doesn’t let it go. “Sure, an oasis that leaves her wishing she were somewhere else half the time.” He sighs, his voice softening. “Look, Matt’s lovely, but he’s not the one. He’s not the one who can turn your whole world upside down, and I know you two. I’ve seen you together, I’ve seen you apart, and trust me, you’re so much better together. Hell, it’s better for all of us too! I simply cannot deal with Ewan moping around again.”

You feel your cheeks warm as you consider his words. It’s almost dizzying, trying to compare the two men, as though they represent opposite sides of you, each offering something you desperately need. They’re both right, in different ways. With Matt, there’s a sense of stability that you haven’t felt before. He’s steady, he’s sweet, and he genuinely adores you despite all of the tangled strings that have bound you to Ewan. 

But with Ewan… you want him, love him, with an intensity that is almost all-consuming. It’s the kind they write songs about, the kind that drives hearts crazy. 

Freddie drops the dramatics, his voice sincere when he speaks again. “Darling, Tom’s got a point, but just… be honest with yourself. What do you really want? Because whatever you decide, it’s your heart on the line. And you know, we’re here for you, no matter who you choose.” And then, as if with the flick of a switch, he turns his flair back on. “God, you could choose me, just so you don’t have to deal with this dilemma of yours anymore!”

You let out a breathy laugh, all the tension you’re feeling dissipating. “I just might!”

Tom mirrors your laughter. “Now that’s a dangerous idea. But hey, life’s short, right? You don’t have to have it all figured out right this second.”

Freddie grins, raising a toast. “To being a beautiful mess.”

You clink your glass with theirs, watching in amusement as they both begin bickering again over who’s really the better choice. As the debate drifts over to which drink to order next, a quiet but unmistakable presence makes its way to your table. Ewan stands behind you, his hands resting on the back of your chair. 

“I’ve been looking for you guys,” he greets calmly. 

Freddie doesn’t hesitate to take a playful jab. “Ah, Ewan! All by your lonesome now? Where’s your lady?”

Ewan perches on the last empty chair on your table, catching your eyes. “My lady’s right here,” he smirks, and he says the words with such ease that your cheeks heat. Everyone would benefit from taking lessons in the Ewan Mitchell School of Charm. “Fancy a walk, darling?”

You quickly glance at Tom and Freddie, whose raised brows practically tell you that they’re going to be chattering about this as soon as you’re out of earshot. “Try not to miss me too much, boys,” you wink at them, letting Ewan help you out of your seat and whisk you away. He offers his arm to you for support, and the two of you fall into stride, allowing the buzz of Mallorca’s streets to fill the quiet between you.

“So,” he starts, “I sure hope Tom and Freddie didn’t give you any trouble.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you smile, your tone lowering as you decide to tease him a little. “We would have invited you over, but you seemed to have plenty of… entertainment yourself.” You playfully wag your eyebrows at him, and he makes a show of groaning and turning away.

“Don’t remind me, my darling,” he groans. “I was so close to faking an illness and making my escape.”

You chuckle at his apparent distress. “Poor Ewan. It must be so hard being adored by a beautiful girl, isn’t it? Wait, where is she again? Did you scare her off?”

“Phia came to my rescue. They went walking by the bay or something, I don’t know. And about being adored, it only matters to me if it’s by you.”

You’re about to lean into a joke and call his bluff, when he adds, “Well, you… and my mum.”

“I thought so,” you giggle, his eyes holding yours with a familiar sweetness. But then his gaze is snagged by something behind you. 

“Is it just me, or does that cat look suspiciously like Sansa?” Ewan points to the front display of a rustic souvenir shop, and you immediately see a plush black cat with curious amber eyes.

You gasp softly, your hand tightening around his bicep. “I did leave Sansa back with my neighbour in London, right?”

“Are you sure? She’s right there, darling,” he plays along, grinning. “I think I’d recognise my daughter when I see her.”

“Your daughter, huh? The most you have right now is visitation rights.”

“Wait here, baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple, leaving you leaning against the wall across the shop. He disappears inside, emerging just moments later, the little cat plushie already in his hands. His expression is tender as he passes it to you. “Here. Figured you could use a bit of home.”

You take the little black cat, heart swelling at the sweetness of his gesture. “Thank you, Ewan. She’s perfect.”

He’s all smiles, his dimples deepening as he nods in response. 

You hug plush Sansa to your chest. “Now I wish they also had whippet plushies, so I can give you a piece of home too…” 

Ewan’s gaze softens, and he shifts slightly, his gaze dropping as he gathers his thoughts. “Darling, I hope you won’t think I’m just trying to score brownie points here or something, given the current situation, but honestly…” He hesitates, but makes up his mind as his eyes meet yours. “If I wanted to feel at home, all I really need is… to be with you.”

Your breath catches, and your mind is too focused on what you’ve just heard that your hold loosens around plush Sansa, causing it to nearly stumble out of your hands. 

“Ewan,” you say softly, your voice laced with an affection you can’t quite dampen. “You don’t play fair, you know that?”

He chuckles, a little self-conscious, his hand reaching for yours. “You know me, darling, and you know how I feel about you.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the touch is light, almost reverent.

“So, no Sansa needed, huh?” you tease gently, trying to keep things light even as the weight of his words lingers. 

His smile returns, a little shy, a little playful. “You got that right. But maybe we don’t have to tell Sansa about this.”

You’re about to offer a witty rejoinder, when a cheerful shout slices through the air. “Ewan!” It’s Louise, her voice loud and undeniably eager, and you find yourself dropping Ewan’s hand. 

And either you’re not in her line of sight, or she just didn’t bother calling out to you too. What a delightful girl.

“Oh,” Louise finally acknowledges you. “That’s a nice… toy you’ve got there.”

“It’s a plushie actually,” you mutter dryly, wiggling plush Sansa in the air.

Ewan snorts at your deadpan expression, and much to Louise’s obvious annoyance, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you snugly against him. “I got it for her. It’s almost an exact replica of her cat, isn’t it, darling?”

Your eyes widen at his purposeful cheekiness. The lad has finally had enough of another girl trying to get a bite out of him. “Well, yeah…” you stumble on your words, “It does look like her.”

Louise pouts. “What a nice, friendly gesture.”

Ewan chuckles to himself, not letting her mood dampen his spirits. “I think it’s rather romantic.”

“Hold on,” Louise responds, appraising you with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you dating Matty?”

“Uhhh—”

“There you kids are!” Phia materialises out of thin air, an angel in disguise.

Oh, you could just kiss the very ground she walks on.

Everyone makes their way to the pool area the next afternoon, the group scattered all around the lush backyard of the villa.

Matt lingers outside your door, waiting for you to finish changing. He leans casually against the railing, his gaze drifting downstairs to Fabien and Elliott, who are hauling crates of beer toward the poolside. He whistles and shouts out a playful, “Save me some, lads!”

“Waiting on your woman, Romeo?” Elliott sings up at him.

Matt waves them away, spinning around to face your door. As he waits, his mind drifts back to a conversation he had with Liv the evening before. She’d seen right through him, spotting the quiet insecurities he tried to keep buried and urging him to go all in with you, to show you what he couldn’t quite put into words. And so, he decided he would; he’d pour everything into showing you just how much he cared.

He has the advantage in that he hasn’t hurt you the way Ewan has in the past, and he has absolutely no intention of doing so, not when being with you feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world. 

To him, you are like the human equivalent of a shot of espresso, a musical laugh, a jolt of positive inspiration. He’s always felt this, but one night, many nights ago, this effect that you have on him became amplified.

And suddenly, you are all he sees.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way, especially not after you finally open the door. You don a forest green bikini that leaves little to the imagination, with a sheer white wrap tied loosely around your waist. 

Matt lets out a low whistle, walking up to you with a slow, playful swagger. You roll your eyes at him when he unapologetically draws his gaze over your bare skin, but he can’t help it.

You look so ravishing that he wants to push you back inside the room. As stunning as your bikini is, it would look even better off.

To hell with the pool.

“What do you think?” 

He has roused from whatever grey temperament he was stuck in, now that he’s had his espresso. “I'm a goner. Absolutely done for.”

“Flatterer.” You shake your head at him, taking in his broad, bare torso. “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.” 

He smirks, his large hands kneading your waist. “I'm the luckiest man on the planet, and this is you after an accident, you say? My love, you're a vision in green.”

“You like the colour?”

“Mmm, if I didn't like you in it, I'd cause a fuss about how you're playing for the other team, my Alyna.” He swoops down and kisses the crook of your neck, the spot he is aware would tickle, eliciting a soft giggle out of you.

“I could never,” you say, swatting his arm. “They were just out of black bikinis at the shop.”

“Black... green... we both know you look the best without either of them on. I mean, we did establish that six times in one night, remem—”

“Matt!” you squeal, eyes wide and scandalised. He feels smug, because he made sure you would never forget that night. “You're such a dog. Come on, let's join the others. I can’t wait to finally dip my toes in the pool.”

He is one step ahead of you the whole time, paying special attention to your bad ankle. He knows he’s being too careful when you eye him strangely, but he doesn’t care. “I got you,” he says.

“I can walk, you know,” you huff. “I’d have been down here ten seconds ago if it wasn’t for you going all Mr. Protector.”

As you reach the final landing, Phia’s voice rings out, “Hands off my woman!”

“She’s got a point.” You tilt your head at Matt, lips pulling at the corners.

“Have I? I was just kidding,” she shakes her head, before mumbling under her breath. “I'm not Ewan.”

Matt huffs out in response, trying not to let it get to him. Phia takes your other arm, deaf to your protests. It’s silly, because they’re both aware that you can probably fend for yourself, but not if they have anything to say about it. 

Fabien, Elliott, and Harry are manning the grill out on the patio. Some of the ladies are cozying on their sun chairs. Ewan, Luke, and Freddie are smoking on a bench under a canopy. And Thom Yorke serenades the whole scene, the speakers emitting ambient music.

Matt’s always loved a good European excursion, but this one might be his favourite yet. Thanks to the girl who lets him fuss over her despite her feigned annoyance.

Your fingers dig tighter into his arm as the two of you lower into the pool. He relishes the moment and allows the ebb of the water to push him closer to his girl.

“Hold on to me.”

You roll your eyes, but wrap your arms around his shoulders anyway. “I'm fine, Matthew. My ankle’s almost healed back to normal.”

“Almost is the keyword there, my love. We can't take any chances. So... hold on to me, beautiful.” The late morning sun is a blanket comfort as you float on together, your laughter ringing out as he flaps an arm on the water and splashes your face. 

From the sidelines, Freddie lets out a loud, teasing whistle. Matt responds with a triumphant fist pump, turning to give him a cheeky grin. 

That might have been a mistake because his eyes landed on Ewan, seated comfortably to Freddie’s left, a cigarette burning low between his lips. His eyes are obscured by dark sunglasses, but he’s clearly surveying the scene unfolding in the pool with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t sit well with Matt. 

He would have expected Ewan to jump in the pool as well and make a show of laying a claim on you as he had before. But no. The younger lad just sits, and watches, the makings of a smirk pulling at his lips when Matt makes eye contact.

Since when has he been this self-assured? Perhaps you’re to credit for this renewed sense of confidence? 

Are you slipping away from him, and back into Ewan’s arms? 

Too many questions, and not even the pleasant haze of Spain can shake the anxiety out of him. 

But then, Liv strolls over, positioning herself in front of Ewan, blocking Matt’s view. She bums a cigarette from one of the guys, and as she turns, she gives Matt a subtle nod—a reminder of her advice from last night. Just show her, she’d said. Show her you’re all in.

Thank the heavens for Olivia.

Turning back to you, Matt softens, brushing a lock of hair from your face. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, feeling his doubts fade as you meet his gaze, eyes bright with laughter.

“Enjoying yourself there?” you ask sweetly.

“What’s not to enjoy?” he replies, his hand tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare like that before.”

“I was not glaring.”

“You so were, Matthew.”

“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. Before you can react, he dips underwater, reemerging just inches from your thigh, where he plants a quick, teasing kiss that makes you yelp.

“Wha—Oh! Matt! Get up here!”

He surfaces, grinning, his arms winding around you again as he pulls you close. Your laughter mingles, echoing across the pool as the rest of the group cheers and jeers good-naturedly.

Just as Matt’s about to pull you in for another kiss, a loud shout breaks through the calm. 

“Cannonball!” Tom’s voice echoes from the villa, and before either of you can turn around, he comes barreling out, sprinting at full speed. With a triumphant yell, he launches himself off the edge, arms and legs splayed out like a human starfish.

The massive splash sends water arcing high, soaking you, Matt, and everyone within a ten-foot radius.

“Always one to ruin the moment, Tom,” Matt jokes.

“Had to make sure you two didn’t get too cosy,” Tom shoots back, swimming closer and clapping Matt on the shoulder. 

It’s all in good fun, sure, but then Matt catches Tom shoot a quick wink at Ewan, a flash of understanding passing between them.

So that’s how it’s going to be? Game on. 

It’s the penultimate day of the Mallorca trip and the group has rented boats to paddle out along the stunning coastline. Only 2 people are allowed per vessel and some pairs have already formed—Phia and Phoebe, Louise thankfully pulled away from Ewan by Bethany, Harry and Freddie…

And then there’s Ewan who strides over to you determinedly. Matt is a half-step behind, his expression expectant, but Ewan is quicker. “I’m with you today, darling,” he says, his tone leaving little room for question. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding.

Matt’s eyes flicker with disappointment but he’s never been one to kick up a fuss. He gives you a faint resigned shrug, then turns to Liv. “Guess that means you and I are a team then.”

Liv rolls her eyes playfully, pushing her sunglasses up and swatting his arm. “Don’t sound so thrilled. But I promise I won’t make you row the entire time.”

Matt’s smile softens as he looks at her, his earlier disappointment slipping into something more relaxed. “Fine, but I’m claiming the right to judge your rowing skills.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent rower,” Liv insists, taking her spot at the front of the boat and casting a teasing glance at him. “You, on the other hand…we’ll see.”

As you and Ewan push off into the water, he throws a glance back at the others, and a spark of mischief lights his eyes. “Think they’ll survive?”

You laugh, settling across Ewan on the boat. “I think it’ll be a surprise if Tom’s boat doesn’t capsize.”

Soon enough, everyone’s boats are spaced out on the clear, serene waters, and there’s nothing but the occasional splash of oars, the birds squawking high above, and the warm glow of the horizon. Ewan rows steadily, having doggedly refused your offer to help, and every now and then, his eyes flick to you, a soft smile never leaving his lips. His gaze lingers, like he’s committing your image to memory.

As you watch the world, he watches his world.

“Feels like another reality out here, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

You nod, watching the sunlight dance across the water. “It really does.” You pause, glancing over your shoulder to see Liv and Matt, already in animated conversation. “It’s nice to just… forget everything for a while.”

He smiles, tilting his head. “Anything specific you wanna forget?”

You smile back. “Everything, really. The pressures, the expectations… wondering what everyone thinks or wants.”

From a few metres away, Matt’s voice carries over the water, cutting through the quiet intimacy of the moment. “I’m just saying, Liv, you don’t have to prove anything. You can let me row.”

Liv laughs, her voice filled with playful defiance. “Matt, I am fully capable of handling this. Maybe it’s you who should be taking notes.”

“Oh, I’d hate to step on your expert skills,” Matt teases back, before throwing a glance your way, his gaze lingering a bit too long before he turns back to Liv, who seems blissfully unaware of his momentary distraction.

Ewan notices it too, and his grip on the oar tightens ever so slightly. But he says nothing, keeping his focus on you as he rows further along the shore.

He steers the boat around a small bend, his voice low. “They’re good together, don’t you think?”

You turn, following his gaze. It’s a simple, easy dynamic between them, one you know you’ve seen before, and for a moment, a pang of something unnameable twists in your chest.

“Yeah,” you murmur, a touch distracted.

Ewan catches your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “You seem… surprised. Or maybe… jealous?”

You laugh it off, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s just—”

But before you can finish, a sudden splash interrupts you. Harry’s boat has tipped over, both he and Freddie flailing in the water, their laughter filling the air as they try to right themselves.

Bethany, a few feet away, doubles over, her laughter carrying over the waves. “Oh my god, Freddie, I told you to sit still!”

Harry, sputtering as he surfaces, grins. “Guess I got too excited.”

“So I was wrong,” you turn to Ewan, smirking. “It’s not Tom who capsized.”

Ewan just laughs, then adds slyly, “Here I was wishing it would have been Matt.”

After the boats return to shore, you’re all tired and exhilarated, the sun higher in the sky as you make your way up the beach. But the peace is short-lived. Fans, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, begin to gather along the shore, their voices excited, cameras ready as they shout greetings and ask for photos. The relaxed energy shifts as each of you is drawn into the swirl of attention, questions flying as you try to keep up.

A fan steps in close, slightly shaking in her nerves. “You… and Ewan?” she asks, the question open-ended but its meaning clear.

You chuckle awkwardly, caught off guard, opting to just wrap an arm around her shoulders as she takes a selfie with you. 

But the fan is relentless, her attention shifting to Matt, who’s standing off to the side with Liv, his gaze directed toward you even as he signs another fan’s poster. “What about him?” she says, grinning.

Ewan’s arm slips around your waist protectively, pulling you closer. “She’s with me today,” he says confidently, not minding the possibility of this fan taking to the internet after this encounter, with proof of her ship actually being together.

Ewan doesn’t care; he has no reason to hide how much he wants you. Not anymore. If his fans want a crumb, as he often reads online about him, then he’s going to give them a whole feast. 

With you as the main course in the Ewan banquet.

As the day comes to a close, you find yourself resting all alone in your room, stealing the group introvert mantle right under Ewan’s nose. Everything that has happened during this vacation plays in your mind like a montage, and somehow, it all feels like it’s building up to a grand finale.

But before you can lose yourself completely in your thoughts, there’s a soft knock at your door.

You groan to yourself as you walk over, but your protest dies as you find Ewan standing there, holding something behind his back.

“Hey, you,” he greets you with a smirk that’s more mischievous than usual. “Got a minute?”

Your heart skips a beat — it’s always been that way with him, that instant flutter, even now after everything. “Sure. What’s up?” 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says, his grin widening at your raised brow. He steps into your room, pulling whatever he’s hiding behind his back.

When he finally reveals it, you blink, eyes widening. “You... bought these?” You can’t help but laugh.

Two brightly coloured superhero masks — one Spider-Man, the other Spider-Gwen.

“Yep, I saw a costume shop that had Carnaval masks… and these too, apparently,” Ewan says, looking pleased with himself. “I thought it would be fun. We’re getting away from the villa tonight. I figured we could use these. You know, masks for our incognito date night.”

It had taken one quick scroll on the internet for your group to discover that the paparazzi trailed everyone around town today, and Elliott even annoyingly revealed that he might have seen one or two of them lingering outside the villa’s premises. 

Vultures.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Wait, you’re serious? We’re wearing these to our… date? Wait, why are we going on a date?”

He shrugs with a playful glint in his eye. “Why not?”

You hesitate for a second. It’s such a ridiculous idea, but in the best possible way. He’s always had a way of pulling you out of your own head, making you feel like there’s no right or wrong way to just live in the moment. 

Or maybe he could propose anything—anything at all—and you’d be beside yourself if you refused. It’s how you and him ended up having copious amounts of…. casual lovemaking, months after breaking up.

“Okay,” you finally say, “but only if you promise not to laugh when I look completely ridiculous in it.”

“Never,” he says with mock solemnity, holding out the Spider-Gwen mask for you. “You’ll look amazing. Trust me.”

As you slink past the gates, the masks make you feel more than a little silly, but also oddly liberated. It’s like you’re in on another secret with him, something just for the two of you.

You look at him, smiling as you adjust the mask. “This is insane,” you say, your voice muffled behind the fabric.

Ewan smiles back, clearly pleased with himself. “I know. And it’s perfect.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just you practicing for an audition for yet another Spiderman reboot?”

He only playfully shoots air webs at you, his adorable pew-pew noises audible under his mask.

You chuckle softly, your heart warming at the sight of him. “So, what now? You’re just going to walk me through the streets like this?”

“Of course. You ready to go on the best secret date of your life?”

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in days. “Lead the way, Spiderman.”

The walk isn’t long, just enough to enjoy the quiet of the night and the unexpected adventure of it all. When you finally arrive at the restaurant, you stop dead in your tracks, blinking up at the building in front of you. It’s perched on the edge of a cliff, offering a breathtaking view of the bay below. The warm glow of the restaurant spills out onto the street, and you’re immediately struck by how beautiful its facade is.

You look at Ewan, your surprise written all over your face. “This... this place looks amazing. How did you find it?”

“I have my ways,” he says, grinning. “Come on.”

He leads you up the stairs, and you both remove your masks as you enter, giggling to each other. You’re met with a homey, rustic atmosphere. There’s a dim light from lamps perched on the posts, the soft murmur of conversations, and the smell of fresh food in the air. It’s everything you didn’t realise you needed tonight—calm, peaceful, and more than a little romantic.

“I booked a private table for us,” Ewan says softly, glancing around for the waiter. 

The two of you are escorted to a table on the balcony, overlooking the bay. The moon reflects on the water, casting a silver glimmer over the scene. For a moment, you just sit there, both of you silent, taking it all in.

“Ewan, this is incredible,” you say, your voice quiet but full of admiration. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Ewan smiles, reaching across the table to take your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. And I promise this isn’t some ploy to get you to speed up your decision-making. I just… I just wanted you to have a night where you could forget about everything else.”

He leans back slightly, his eyes studying you with that gentle familiarity, like he’s waiting for you to say something more, but he doesn’t rush you.

You glance down at the simple sundress you’ve been wearing all day. You didn’t have time to change when Ewan mentioned the surprise evening out — there was no real thought given to a perfect outfit. And yet, as you sit here now, across from him in the warm candlelight, you don’t feel the usual self-consciousness you might’ve once felt. 

You feel more beautiful than you ever have before, because he sees you as the most beautiful person in the room. In any room.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you say, looking at him. “How you make everything feel so…” You trail off, unable to find anything adequate. 

His lips curl into a knowing, half-smile. “I feel the same about you.”

And you might not know it yet, but this night is when you choose him. 

Under the unprecedented rainfall, later on, you will realise that you never truly had to choose.

It’s always been Ewan, all along. 

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

I have no notes. The red mirage is still at play as I type this. Please distract me in the comments 🥲

The next chapter wraps up this trip :) We also might have a bit of Liv's POV...

Then it's back to LA or London, depending on who darling opts to go with 💛

[keeryhours]

birthday cake - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby Daddy! Rafe

Summary:

It’s Iris’ first birthday, and Rafe may have gone a little overboard.

Warnings:

None, just birthday party fluff, some kissing

Word Count: 2,960

A/N:

I love baby daddy Rafe. Let me know if you want to see more!

—

“Well don’t you look absolutely gorgeous!”

Iris smiled and clapped her hands, giggling at your excited expression. She was dressed in a big poofy pink dress, white Mary Janes on her feet. Her light brown hair had been gathered into two tiny pigtails. She had a party hat you would try to get a picture of her in later, but you knew better than to try to get her to actually wear it.

It was May 26th, exactly one year since the best, most amazing day of your life.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” JJ called as he walked through the living room carrying an armful of gifts. He had been packing the car the entire time you’d been getting Iris ready.

You picked up your daughter and sat her on your hip, grabbing her diaper bag and your purse with your free hand as you followed JJ to the door.

JJ got the last of the party supplies packed in the back of the car while you buckled Iris in her car seat, which turned out to be more difficult than expected with the floofy dress. You briefly wonder if you should have changed her at the country club.

You got it done eventually, and then you and JJ were on the road to Figure 8.

Rafe had insisted you hire a party planner. You argued with him on it at first, because you are perfectly capable of planning a first birthday party yourself, but he wouldn’t drop it, saying he didn’t want you stressing about planning and setting it up yourself. You had rolled your eyes, but he was paying for it, so you figured, what the hell.

It actually wasn’t bad at all. The party planner had involved you every step of the way just like you’d wanted to be. She let you make all the decisions while she made it all come together. It was honestly amazing.

You arrived at the country club just in time to get settled before guests began to arrive. JJ carried the gifts while you carried the baby. You had planned the party for the perfect time, she was freshly up from a nap and would probably stay in a great mood for the whole event.

Your eyes widened as you, JJ, and Iris walked into the event space that had been booked for the party. The theme you had decided on was Berry First Birthday, and it was the most extravagant baby’s birthday party you’d ever seen.

When Rafe had told you he wanted to take care of the party, you didn’t know what to think. He told you you’d still have full creative control because he knew you’d been looking forward to it, but he was going to cover it and he wanted to hire a planner. He let you make every decision, mostly staying out of it, his only instruction being “It has to be the best for my girl.”

There was a big balloon arch made up of red, white, pink, and berry colored balloons, including some actual strawberry balloons, sitting in front of a large pink backdrop with printed strawberries that said Iris’ Berry First Birthday. A vintage looking white high chair sat in front of it, a banner attached to the front that said One with pink and red tassels.

There was a long table filled with food, including some cookies in the shape of strawberries and a large spread of fresh fruit. There was a table that held champagne, which you thought was kind of funny for a one year old’s party. Another table held a giant 3-tiered white cake decorated with strawberries.

He had really gone all out. You weren’t sure why you had expected anything less.

Rafe came walking over the second he noticed you walk through the door, a grin on his face.

“There’s my birthday girl,” he said, reaching his hands out for Iris. She immediately held her arms out, leaning forward towards him.

You handed her over with a laugh, knowing you were no competition when Rafe was around. She was a complete daddy’s girl.

He placed a big kiss on her cheek as he settled her in his arms, and she giggled.

“You look so pretty, baby girl,” he complimented her, smoothing down the puffy skirt of her dress. “I love your dress.”

“Dadadadada,” she babbled in response, a gummy grin on her face. She still only had about 5 teeth. Rafe wore a pink shirt and khaki colored pants, and it was adorable the way he matched with her.

“You really went all out,” you said, taking in the extravagance of the event.

“Yeah, well,” he said, brushing you off and not taking his eyes off the baby, “she only turns 1 once.”

Rafe was always a real baby hog. Once he took her when you arrived, you had a hard time getting her back. You busied yourself arranging the gifts on the gift table and setting out the gift bags you had put together for all the guests.

Guests began to arrive not long after. You and Rafe greeted them together with Iris, the star of the show, in his arms. She absolutely ate up all the attention, giving everyone a big smile and tolerating being passed around to friends and family.

“It’s my bestie!” Sarah squealed as she walked up with Wheezie next to her, holding her hands out for her niece. Rafe reluctantly handed her over, mostly because Iris had already been reaching for Sarah anyway.

Sarah and Wheezie cooed at the baby, fussing over her outfit and hair. Rafe watched, looking impatient to get her back.

“I can’t believe you’re one already,” Sarah said, looking emotional as she hugged Iris to her chest. Iris tolerated the hold for about 2 seconds before she was wiggling free, and then she was reaching for Rafe again. Rafe took her back with a smug grin on his face.

“Me either,” you said, fighting back tears. You had been emotional all day, you definitely didn’t need to be reminded how monumental of a day it was.

You had been satisfied with cell phone pictures, but apparently Rafe had hired a whole photographer. She called you over now, to the backdrop.

There was a whole photo session while the guests helped themselves to the food and refreshments. Photos of you and Iris, Rafe and Iris, you, Rafe, and Iris together. Pictures with Iris, Rafe, Sarah, Wheezie, Ward, and Rose. Some of you and JJ with her. And of course a group photo with the pogues with the birthday girl in the center.

When it was time for cake, you settled Iris into the vintage high chair. JJ brought over her smash cake, which was a smaller version of the big cake - small, round, and white with strawberries painted in icing decorating it. There was a big 1 candle on top.

JJ handed the cake to you, and Rafe pulled out a lighter and lit the candle.

The two of you walked over to the high chair, holding the cake in front of Iris close enough to see but far enough away that she couldn’t reach the fire.

The whole party began to sing happy birthday, and it was then that it really hit you.

The past 365 days of your life flashed before your eyes. First smile, first laugh, first tooth, first word, learning to crawl. First night home from the hospital, when Rafe never strayed far from your side, holding newborn Iris every chance he got so you could eat and shower and sleep. The day she was born, when Rafe held your hand the entire time you were in labor, wiping the sweat off your face, feeding you ice chips, and telling you You’re doing amazing, babe. How it had been a complicated labor, and when she was finally out and you heard her cry, you both looked at each other and breathed out a collectively held breath of relief. Seeing your daughter for the first time, just a tiny little thing, brand new to the world and snuggling into your chest for comfort. Rafe holding her for the first time, looking at her with pure adoration, and the way he cried (but made you promise not to tell anyone about that).

Your eyes moved up to look at him, and like he had the exact same thought at the same time, he turned and his gaze met yours as you continued to sing the song. Tears welled up in your eyes and you saw his become glassy, too. You both smiled at each other, a million unspoken emotions conveyed between them.

When the song was over, you and Rafe blew the candle out together, watching Iris’ delighted face. Rafe removed the candle and you placed the little smash cake in front of Iris.

She examined it first, cautious. Rafe grabbed her little hand, dipping it in the icing and bringing it to her lips. She gladly put her fingers in her mouth, they were usually there anyway, but her face lit up with a smile when she tasted the buttercream icing.

“See? Mmm, yummy,” Rafe said, beaming at her.

“Ummy,” Iris repeated, and she dipped her hand into the cake willingly this time, grabbing a big handful and bringing it to her mouth.

Rafe laughed, delighted, and clapped his hands together once. Guests were taking pictures and videos on their phones, the photographer getting plenty of shots. Everyone continued to watch as Iris devoured her smash cake, eating until she couldn’t anymore.

You and Rafe cleaned all the cake off of her when she was finished, which always made her cranky. She screamed as you wiped her off, but you and Rafe only laughed. You were still feeling emotional.

The big cake was served to all the guests by country club staff, and again it occurred to you that you had never in your life seen such a grand event for a one year old.

Presents were opened after everyone ate, you and Rafe on either side of Iris as she ripped into her gifts. She was more interested in the paper and empty bags than the gifts inside them, but at least she was having a blast. You knew she’d be excited about the actual gifts later.

The gift table was already overflowing with the amount of guests at the party, but you swore that Rafe himself had brought half the table. It seemed like every other present handed your way had From Daddy written on it in Rafe’s handwriting.

Iris was asleep in Rafe’s arms by the time the guests began to leave. She was absolutely knocked out from all the excitement of the day.

Rafe stroked her hair absentmindedly as you both saw your guests off, thanking everyone for coming.

It was just close family and friends left, JJ and the pogues were loading up the car with Iris’ gifts while you ate another piece of birthday cake.

“Turned out pretty good,” Rafe said, speaking softly as he held your sleeping daughter.

“Are you kidding? It was amazing. You did not have to go all out like this.” You raised your eyebrows at him, icing smeared on your lips.

Rafe reached forward with his free hand, swiping his thumb across your lips and gathering up the icing. He popped his thumb into his own mouth, sucking the icing off as he held eye contact with you. You watched him, stunned for a minute.

“It’s no big deal,” Rafe said as if nothing had happened. “I wanted her to have a good party.”

You just looked at him. He was unbothered as usual.

“Well, it was a great party,” you finally said. “I appreciate it, Rafe.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to thank me for doing things for our daughter. I want to.”

You knew he was being honest. Rafe went overboard sometimes, this being a perfect example, but he had the best intentions and it wasn’t hurting anyone. It was hard not to fall in love with him when you watched him being the world’s best dad.

When the car was packed full and there were still plenty of gifts left, Rafe told the guys to start loading the rest in his truck.

“I’m worried all this stuff isn’t gonna fit in the house,” you said, furrowing your brows as you threw away some trash.

“Anything there’s not room for she can keep at my place,” Rafe offered. Most of her stuff was at your and JJ’s house, because that’s where she spent most of her time, but she certainly was spoiled at Rafe’s too.

When everything was successfully packed up, Rafe buckled Iris into her car seat. She was so tired she barely stirred, continuing to nap as he snapped the buckles around her body and carried her to your car.

Rafe locked the car seat into the base in your back seat. He turned to you, suddenly standing so close.

“I’ll follow you back to the house,” he said quietly. “Help you unload all this stuff.”

Back at the house, you carried Iris’ seat inside, unbuckling her and bringing her to her bedroom while Rafe and JJ unloaded the cars. You changed her out of her dress and into something comfy and let her hair down.

You rocked her in the glider. She was so worn out from her day she started to drift back off quickly, her eyes fluttering shut and body relaxing in your arms.

When you stood to lay her in her crib, you noticed Rafe standing at the door. You slightly jumped when you saw him, not expecting him to be there, which made him chuckle quietly and you gave him a playful glare.

You stepped out of the room, closing the door behind you and Rafe softly.

“She’s tired, huh,” Rafe observed, smiling at you. He was in a good mood today - it had been a good day.

“Worn out,” you agreed.

Rafe reached forward, rubbing his large hand down your arm. “You did really good, by the way.”

“It was fun,” you said. “But the planner definitely did most of the work.”

“She just did the boring part, you made the whole thing come together.”

You smiled back at him. He was being sweet, he was making an effort.

“I know everyone’s been saying it all day, but I can’t believe she’s actually one,” Rafe laughed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It feels like she was just born.”

Your smile was tinged with sadness, the emotions from the day sticking with you. “I know. It’s too fast. All of it,” You shook your head, thinking of how fleeting her baby days had been.

“I just wish…” Rafe began, looking down at his hands instead of at you as he spoke, “That I didn’t have to miss out on any of her life.”

You were silent. You knew what he meant. But you also knew that a relationship didn’t work between the two of you. It was toxic, you were both jealous, you fought all the time. When you co-parented as two single parents, things were easy. If only you could ignore the way he made you feel.

Rafe sighed when you didn’t respond. He said your name softly. You turned to look at him, finding his deep blue eyes staring into yours. He walked up to you until he was standing right in front of you, hand reaching up to play with your hair.

“Rafe…” you breathed, and you knew you should push him away, walk away, anything, but you don’t.

Rafe leaned down until his lips met yours, kissing you softly, gently. You felt yourself melt into his kiss, like every bit of common sense in your brain was dying.

His arms wrapped around your hips, pulling your body flush against his. Your arms went around his neck, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, massaging your own.

You moaned against his lips, which only egged him on more as he slid his hands around your body to grab your ass.

You pulled away just enough to speak. “JJ could walk back here at any second…” you whispered against his mouth.

Rafe’s lips quirked up in a smirk, because he didn’t particularly care about that. But he knew you did.

“Maybe we can go to your bedroom, then?” he proposed, his fingers stroking over your body and sending shivers across your skin.

You wanted to say yes. But it was always a bad idea, always such a bad idea - maybe for once you’d make a smart decision.

“I can’t…” you said, sounding like it pained you.

Rafe just held you for a second longer. Finally, he pressed his lips to your forehead, giving it a kiss as he pulled away from you, squeezing your arm as he let you go.

“I better get going then,” he said, and neither of you wanted him to, but you didn’t change your mind. You didn’t stop him.

Rafe turned and left the house before you could even say anything. You stood in the hallway until you heard the front door closing, his truck starting outside.

You briefly thought about running after him, begging him to come back and spend the night with you. But you don’t. You decide to have more respect for yourself than that.

But you spend the whole night in your bed, thinking of him, aching for him. Until you reach for your cell phone, charging on the bedside table. You send him an impulsive text, just seeing if he’s still up.

His response comes immediately.

Rafey

Knew you’d regret letting me leave.

[reallyromealone]

Hi! Just sending in this ask before I forget my idea, dont answer this until your asks are open again I just want to write this down before I forget!! Boten x single father! male reader, reader works at a restaurant and Boten comes in one night and Mikey takes a liking to him, his daughter sits in the staff room and draws/plays because she’s too young to be home alone- 🦇 anon

Title: cute waiter

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: bonten

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Mikey x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, single dad reader, fluff, nameless daughter, Mikey has that weird ass rizz as the kids say

Notes:

Summary: bonten goes to a small restaurant while in town for business and Mikey falls for the cute waiter.

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

(Name) Could never thank his boss enough for letting (daughters name) stay in the office, the elderly woman finding the toddlers company pleasant while she worked on scheduling and order's.

"(Name), could you cover booth three? I have to talk to (boss name) about the schedule" (name) looked to his co-worker who managed the hardest puppy eyes he could "fine, but you owe me"

"Thank you!"

(Name) Never knew what to expect at the small restaurant, typically it was the locals in the small town but sometimes some rich people came in and even foreigners which was a gamble on how the experience would go.

Usually they were nice though.

"Hello! Could I get you gentlemen started with water or perhaps the chef's choice of wine?" (Name) Said happily to the group who sized him up, the man in the middle just staring him down with cold blackened eyes but (name) just continued smiling and even making eye contact with them.

Blissfully unaware of who they were or what their tattoos meant.

"We will start with the finest wine you have" the white haired man with snake like eyes said simply, his rings shining under the warm lights "of course! I will be back momentarily with your wine, gentlemen" and with that (name) turned and left, bonten not missing Mikey's curious look and the lock on to the waiters ass. They all exchanged glances while their boss just ate his snacks, flipping to the dessert menu to see they had the good stuff.

(Name) Returned moments later and filled their glasses, Mikey freezing when the waiter got close to him and the white haired man could smell the others cologne faintly and nearly shoved his face into the poor man's neck if it wasn't for his self control "so tell us about yourself, Mr waiter ~" ran was going to do his boss a favor, knowing Mikey had the romantic abilities of a snail. "Ah, what would you like to know?" (Name) Was so easy going, care free "you in school?" "You single?" "You know how to bake?"

(Name) Was a bit startled by the questions but didn't see the harm "I'm not, I graduated last year, I am single and I do know how to bake, yes" (name) laughed a bit at the questions "now, what can I get you gentlemen?" Changing the topic to get to business and not have these attractive men ask every detail of his life.

Of course they ordered the nicest things on the menu, it was going to be a pricy bill no doubt but (name) wasted no time getting their order before his coworker took over his table for his break and hang out with his tot. (Name) Brought in dinner for the two, free food from the restaurant and (daughters name) got cute rice balls shaped like hearts and for dessert she got taiyaki shaped like stars and filled with custard.

"Wow you drew this?" (Name) Cheered on his kid who beamed, the owner who became their grandmother of sorts always splurged on the good coloring supplies for the little girl and finding some cute toys for the office so she's never bored.

"Why don't we show the team, yeah?" (Name) Asked the little one who bounced a little, clearly happy at the idea "let's go!" Holding his little girls hand, the restaurant was nearly dead save for the group of eight who were furious that (name) was changed out for another person but Mikeys anger quickly melted when he saw the tiny version of (name) waddle towards the elderly owner who was rolling cutlery.

"My!" She cooed and lifted the little girl up "you're so talented!"

Mikey and (name) locked eyes, the waiter offering a sweet smile and Mikey's face dusted red, (name) didn't miss the stares and the blushes on the pale man, knowing damn well the awkward blond thought he was attractive "you enjoy your meal?" (Name) Asked him casually, the blond composing himself "yeah..." His words simply and short, never the one for small talk "that your kid?"

"Ah, yeah... She's too young to be alone and my boss practically helped raise me as a teen so she just hangs here"

Mikey nodded and looked over (name) who caught his stare "would you like to go out sometime?" (Name) Thought the blond was cute, even if he barely spoke and just stared ominously.

Mikey froze, usually it was him doing that "you don't know who we are, do you?"

"...models...?" (Name) Said confused, unsure of his answer and Mikey just stared back at the man "what? Used to people not recognizing you?"

"Something like that"

"Well I hope to get to know you better, I have to get my rugrat in for her nap but I'll be back soon yeah"

Mikey never felt so complacent, nodding and even letting (name) kiss his cheek gently before going to get his daughter.

[lovelookspretty]

waking up to you

au!rafe cameron x reader

— in which you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.

warnings: Y/N & RAFE DATE 😋 teasing, pretty safe chapter

authors note: btw readers only “weird” around cynthia bc ngl id act like that if i came across her bc shes so annoying on the show omg. but EEE hi guys. if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to lmk thru replies, anons, dms, or reblogs !!

previous

you’re not surprised to wake up in rafe’s bed again. at this point, it’s almost routine, though every time still feels surreal.

you’ve gotten used to the soft sheets, the familiar scent of him on the pillows, and the way the morning light filters through the blinds just right, casting a warm glow over his peaceful, sleeping face.

he looks so different like this—calm, almost vulnerable. it’s a version of him that no one else really gets to see. and you? you don’t mind at all.

you take a quiet breath, just watching him for a moment longer. but then, his eyes flutter open, and you freeze, quickly closing your eyes to pretend like you’re still sleeping. maybe if you play it off well enough, he won’t—

a finger pokes at your side, and you can’t help the involuntary squirm and groan that escapes you. “rafe,” you mutter, barely opening one eye to glare at him. but he just grins, clearly pleased with himself for catching you.

“thought you were asleep,” he teases, voice rough from sleep, poking your side again until you half-heartedly swat at his hand.

“you’re so annoying,” you mumble, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “get off of me.”

the morning quickly slips into a blur, and before you know it, you're tagging along with rafe for a ride around the island—except not just any ride. he’s got his dirt bike out, the same one you’d seen on the show.

you were kind of surprised when you first saw it in the garage. in the world you knew, rafe got this bike after the first episode started, but here? no rules seem to apply anymore.

you’re wrapped tightly around his torso, his helmet snug on your head as he drives the bike through town, on the beaches, through quiet streets and long stretches of open road. the wind whips past your face, and you can’t help but smile into it, arms locked around him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

eventually, he pulls up to some kook-itorium, the bike coming to a slow stop. rafe kicks the stand down and hops off first, turning to help you off like he always does. his hands are warm as they slide into yours, and for a second, he just holds them, staring down at you with a grin.

“so, what do you think?” he asks, pulling you a little closer as you hop off the bike. he��s been practically advertising himself on the way over here. “a date? hrm? just you n’ me. anywhere you want.”

you smile up at him. “yeah,” you say softly. “i’d like that.”

he tugs you toward the entrance of the building, still holding onto your hand. “just don’t pick somewhere like the seaview grill or— god, that lame museum your mom likes.”

when you step inside the building, it takes you a moment to realize where rafe has brought you. the place has that unmistakable country club vibe—polished, pristine, like every corner of it has been touched by money. but it’s smaller, rounder in shape, and more modern than the main country club building next door. servers move swiftly between tables, balancing trays and drinks. rafe, of course, heads straight past all of this, not even glancing at the downstairs dining area.

you follow him upstairs, past the busy floor where people are eating, drinking, and talking in their quiet, refined way. upstairs, though, it’s a whole different world.

the second floor is open and airy, with barely any walls to box anything in. it’s just the floor, held up by tall pillars that support the roof above, letting the fresh air and views of the island spill right in. the only structure that really stands out is the bar in the middle—a sleek, modern setup that takes up a good portion of the space, all glossy wood and glass shelves stocked with high-end bottles.

the place is filled with kooks, most of them middle-aged. they don’t seem to notice you and rafe, or if they do, they don’t care. oh right, rafe should be about 22 now, legal to drink here. does that make the others 18 and 19?

anyway, rafe is clearly familiar here. a few nods are thrown his way as he leads you forward, and he nods back, murmuring casual greetings under his breath as you weave between tables. you’re amused, but there’s a small part of you that’s bothered.

you thought maybe rafe had brought you here for food downstairs, but it’s pretty clear now that this is just one of his regular stops to get a drink—probably whiskey or even scotch, knowing him. but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to spoil the mood.

he finally lets go of your hand when he reaches the bar, leaning against the counter with crossed arms as he asks for his drink. you linger beside him for a second, glancing around the open space. the view from up here is stunning, with a perfect sightline to the docks and the country club’s main establishment just next door.

you rub your arm awkwardly, feeling a little out of place among all the well-dressed older folks. after a beat, you step closer to rafe, gently touching his arm to get his attention. “i’m gonna go use the restroom,” you say quietly.

he nods, not taking his eyes off the bartender. but before you can turn to leave, he grabs your arm, tugging you back toward him for a quick kiss. it’s his way of saying 'be safe,' you guess, a small gesture that makes you smile despite the surroundings. you give his arm a gentle squeeze in return, then slip away to head downstairs.

just as you’re descending the steps, though, a familiar voice drifts up toward you. and then you see him—topper, making his way up the stairs. your heart sinks in the half-second you have to process it.

great. the last time you talked to him was at the party, when he was stumbling over some half-assed apology. and now here he is, about to cross your path.

fantastic. just what you needed.

the moment his eyes land on you, there’s a flicker of recognition that lights up his face, just for a moment—like spotting an old acquaintance in a crowd.

“y/n!” he says, his hands coming up as if he’s presenting you to the world. he glances at his mom as if to say, ‘look who it is’. you can feel your heart rate pick up as you pause on the steps, furrowing your brows at them.

they were definitely just talking about you right before this.

you force a smile, but it’s small and tight, barely breaking through your unease. “hi, topper,” you mumble, glancing between him and his mom. there’s a brief moment of silence as you weigh your options—whether to continue this conversation or slip away.

ultimately, you choose the latter. you take a step forward, moving past them and continuing down the stairs, leaving them behind. as you go, you can feel topper’s eyes on you.

he glances down at his shoes and shifts awkwardly, but then, just as quickly, he looks up again. “come on, let’s just go upstairs,” he insists to his mom, trying to shake it off as they both start moving again.

it’s not that you wanted to dismiss topper and his mom or anything. really, you just don’t see the point in lingering in the middle of a public staircase, one of the only two that connected the floors of the country club. you don’t want to be rude, but you also don’t want to talk to topper—especially after your last encounter at the party.

topper and his mom step off the stairs, but the moment topper spots rafe, a grin spreads across his face.

“hey, good seein’ you back here again,” topper greets, approaching the bar with a friendly demeanor.

rafe daps him up casually. “you too, man,” rafe replies, genuinely glad to see him.

topper's mom stands just a foot away, carrying her purse and looking utterly uninterested in the interaction, her gaze flicking off to the side as if she’s assessing the other patrons. she’s never been a fan of rafe, just barely tolerating him because he comes from a good family, and it shows in the way she avoids direct eye contact.

pulling away from the handshake, toppers eyes glance back toward the staircase as if expecting you to appear at any moment. “saw you and y/n come in,” he adds, “just wanted to say hi.”

rafe nods with a smile as he leans back against the bar, one elbow resting casually on the counter. he glances at topper’s mom. “hey, cynthia,” he says, flashing her a grin.

her expression shifts from indifference to surprise, and then it hardens, almost offended by the casual familiarity. she’s always been the type to keep her distance from him, and rafe knows it. to her, he’s still just another troublemaker, another bad influence.

topper notices the slight tension and looks back to rafe, his brow furrowing slightly. “so, what’s up with y/n?” he asks, his tone casual but laced with a hint of concern.

rafe squints, his head cocking to the side as he regards topper. “what do you mean, ‘what’s up’?” he replies, his voice subtly defensive and carrying a hint of warning. “is there something wrong with her?”

topper realizes how that might sound and shakes his head quickly. “no, no, man. i just think she’s, like . . . avoiding me or something,” he clarifies, waving a hand dismissively as if trying to brush off any potential drama.

rafe chuckles, raising his glass up to his lips. “are you surprised?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at topper, the teasing tone evident. he shakes his head, a look of amusement on his face. “girls, man.”

cynthia catches the comment, her expression shifting to one of disapproval. she mutters a clipped ‘ten minutes’ to her son before leaving without a word, turning on her heel and heading toward the stairs to leaving topper there with him.

topper watches her go, feeling the weight of the awkwardness settle over him. he glances back at rafe, who is now watching the scene unfold with a smirk, clearly amused by the whole thing.

“so, what are you guys up to?” topper asks, trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters.

when you step out of the bathroom, you spot her immediately—cynthia, standing at the bottom of the stairs like she’s waiting for her son. you briefly consider turning around, maybe pretending not to notice, but it’s too late. her sharp gaze finds yours, and there’s no escaping it now.

this is great.

you adjust your posture, trying to look casual as you make your way toward the stairs, your mind racing for an excuse to cut this conversation short. the last thing you want is to get caught up with cynthia—if she’s anything like the way she was on the show, you are not open to a conversation.

but it’s like you’re trapped. her eyes lock on you, and she takes a few steps forward in those polished black heels. “y/n,” she says, and there’s a hint of something icy behind that tone, even though she’s putting on a smile.

you stop, eyebrows raising as you stand in place, trying to gauge the situation. her smile is forced, you can tell immediately, but so is yours as you mirror her expression. “cynthia, it’s so . . . nice to see you again,” you say, the words slipping out of your mouth because, well, kooks always know kooks, right? you assume this universe’s y/n has seen her before.

but as soon as the words leave your mouth, cynthia’s expression shifts—her lips purse, and her eyes narrow slightly, pulling her head back like you’ve just said something ridiculous. yep. that was wrong. completely wrong.

“last time i saw you, you were just a kid! every time you come over to my home now, it’s like you’re always sneaking around,” she remarks, her voice dripping with that fake kindness, the kind that’s so transparently bitter it almost stings.

your stomach twists. yeah, this is definitely not the conversation you wanted. “and how are your parents?” cynthia continues, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.

you wave your hand, trying to shrug it off like it’s no big deal. “they’re great! in costa rica right now, on vacation,” you respond, trying to keep things light.

but cynthia hums, her expression a little too knowing. “i heard it was a business trip?” she says, tilting her head slightly.

you clear your throat, feeling the tension grow. this woman is the worst. you’re slipping up so bad. “mix of both,” you say, your voice strained as you force another fake smile.

there’s a brief, uncomfortable silence before the two of you lean forward, laughing in that awkward, forced way where neither of you are actually amused. the laugh dies quickly, and as soon as it does, you drop the pretense, turning on your heel as you head back upstairs, feeling weird about the interaction.

you feel like you were just quizzed. and you failed.

once you’re back upstairs, you immediately catch rafe’s eye as you step into the room. he’s leaning casually against one of the tables, a glint in his eye that matches the small smirk tugging at his lips the second he spots you.

his whole demeanor shifts, but topper, who’s mid-sentence, doesn’t seem to notice right away—until he realizes rafe isn’t paying attention. topper twists around to follow his line of sight, spotting you before continuing whatever rant he was on.

rafe briefly glances back at him, half-listening, as you approach the two of them. when you get close enough, you quietly reach for rafe’s glass, bringing it to your nose to smell whatever’s left of his drink. without a word, you tilt your head back and down what’s left, swallowing with a grimace as you place the empty glass back on the table.

both boys stare at you, each reacting differently. topper furrows his brow, eyes flicking to the glass to see if there’s anything left. “what’s up with you?” he asks, confused, clearly sensing something off.

rafe, on the other hand, is looking at you with a blank expression, though there’s a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth—because he knows. “she was definitely just talking to your mom, top,” rafe says with a knowing smile, his tone carrying just the right amount of humor to suggest that, naturally, a conversation with cynthia would drive someone to drink.

topper’s face falls slightly, but he doesn’t even argue. he just glances between the two of you in silence because he knows rafe’s probably right. with a quick check of his phone, he pushes away from the table, his energy deflating. “alright, i’ve gotta go. see you guys.”

“bye, top,” you murmur, watching as he walks off, leaving just you and rafe standing together. once topper’s out of sight, you tilt your head all the way up, meeting rafe’s gaze with a lazy, playful smile.

“you decide on where we’re going?” rafe asks, sliding an arm around you, pulling you close as he starts guiding you toward the stairs.

you hum for a long moment, trying to think, before making something up on the spot. “let’s go jet skiing,” you say, half-joking but testing the waters to see what he’d say.

rafe raises his eyebrows, a slight chuckle escaping him. “you wanna go to monty’s?” he repeats, and you assume it could be some jet ski rental place you must go to. he’s amused but surprisingly open to it. “we can go to monty’s, darlin’.”

rafe drives the two of you out to some place a mile or two away, the sign out front reading ‘montgomery’s jet ski rentals’ in bold blue letters. it’s tucked away along a small marina.

you step out of the car. it’s here that you notice the way rafe moves—a kind of quiet confidence that’s hard to ignore. he strides toward the dock with his head held high, like he’s done this a hundred times. you can’t tell if it’s because you two have apparently been here so often that he just knows his way around or if he’s just naturally this confident.

while rafe chats easily with the staff, laughing and slapping one guy on the back like they’re old friends, you find yourself preparing for the ride. you slip into a life vest, adjusting the straps so it fits snugly.

then you’re stepping onto the dock, the jet ski bobbing gently in the water. rafe climbs on first, settling into the front seat, and turns back to offer you his hand. you take it, letting him guide you into place behind him, and then you wrap your arms around his waist. it feels natural, like you’re meant to be there, holding onto him like this.

and, god, the thought hits you—this is probably a dream for hundreds, maybe thousands of people. to be on a jet ski with drew starkey, any version of him, arms wrapped around his waist, close enough to feel the warmth of his back.

it’s a little surreal, and you can’t help but feel grateful for this weird fucking alternate universe you’re in. being a kook, being rafe cameron’s girlfriend, living out days like this—you could get used to it. you could live like this forever.

rafe glances forward, that cocky smirk barely visible at the corner of his lips. without looking back at you, he mutters, “hold on.” and before you have a chance to reply, he twists the throttle, and the jet ski leaps forward, tearing across the water. your arms instinctively tighten around his waist as the engine roars, and you feel the force of the speed pushing you back slightly.

your eyes widen as you’re propelled across the open water. the jet ski skims over waves. you can barely keep from laughing as the wind whips through your hair. it’s fast—so much faster than you expected—and your heart is beating more than ever.

rafe steers you two in wide, looping turns and tight figure-eights, shouting the loudest, most carefree ‘woo!’ that you think you’ve ever heard. his voice carries over the hum of the engine and the slap of the waves, his laughter echoing as you cling on, a laughing mess yourself.

as the jet ski finally begins to slow, you let your chin rest on his back, just near his shoulder so you can look out ahead. you’re both breathing heavily from the ride, and he’s still grinning, clearly thrilled by his own reckless route. he isn’t heading anywhere specific, just weaving around, but that’s what makes it even better. there’s no destination—just you, him, and the freedom of open water.

“wanna take over?” rafe calls out, and you laugh, thinking he’s kidding. but when he glances back over his shoulder, you catch his expression and feel your own smile falter, realizing he’s dead serious.

next thing you know, you’re seated in front, fingers gripping the throttle while rafe sits behind you, holding on with that unshakeable grin of his. the jet ski jolts forward as you try to get the hang of the controls, and you immediately feel the panic rise, the machine moving faster than you expected.

“rafe, i don’t know what i’m doing!” you shout over your shoulder, but rafe’s only response is laughter.

“just go easy on the throttle,” he says, half-shouting and half-laughing as you attempt to steer. but the jet ski wobbles, veering off a bit too quickly, and your grip slips.

“rafe!” you yell, barely keeping control as he’s practically doubled over behind you, finding the whole thing hysterical. he tries to guide you through it, but it’s impossible to listen when you’re both shouting and laughing, the jet ski zigzagging across the water.

but it slows. he wants to teach you properly.

you feel rafe's hands slip over yours, his fingers resting gently against yours as he takes control of the throttle from behind. his touch is firm but relaxed, guiding your grip as he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “steady now,” he murmurs. “ease it forward like this, yeah?”

you nod. his voice is a steady hum as he talks you through it. “just a little pressure here,” he says, pressing lightly against the throttle. “see? easy.” his fingers guide yours over the controls until you can feel how each movement changes the jet ski’s pace.

after a minute or two, he lets you take over, his hands staying in place to catch you if needed, but he’s not pushing or pulling anymore. you start to feel it, understanding the rhythm of the throttle and how to steer, and rafe just chuckles.

“that’s my girl,” he says, patting his hand on the spot between your thigh and hip, sending a flutter through you as his hand settles back around you.

a grin stretches across your face, and before you know it, you’re letting out a loud scream that echoes across the water as you pick up speed, trusting yourself more with every second. you’re moving faster, the wind whipping past, and for a moment you feel invincible.

when you decide to slow down, you ease off the throttle, leaning back just enough to press into rafe’s chest. you feel his laugh rumble against you. it makes you smile as you let out a breathy laugh of your own. then, you’re off again, speeding forward with rafe’s steadying hands nearby, the two of you gliding over the waves like you were born to do this together.

you’re both sitting across from each other at a little table outside a bayside café. you pick up your sandwich and take a big, satisfying bite, eyes rolling back with a muffled oh my god because it's just that good.

you didn’t realize how hungry you were until now. you lean your head back, savoring the taste, a content sigh escaping as you sit up again, still chewing, and glance at rafe across the table.

he’s got his phone out, scrolling with his eyebrows furrowed, the lines on his forehead deepening behind his sunglasses. he’s squinting slightly, or maybe he’s just annoyed by whatever’s on the screen. you pause mid-bite, lowering your sandwich slightly before asking, “you okay?”

rafe clears his throat, not looking at you just yet, and clicks his phone off. he flips it over on the table, his hand rubbing down the front of his shorts like he’s brushing something off. “yeah, all good,” he says, reaching for his own food, voice casual, but there’s a tension you can sense from his reaction.

it doesn’t add up, but you decide not to push it. you’ve learned when to give him space, and right now, you’re way more into this sandwich than trying to open up that conversation.

you take another bite, glancing around at the scene in front of you as you chew. it’s a perfect day, bay glistening in the sunlight, people passing. by with relaxed smiles, stopping in at shops or heading toward the water. montgomery’s rentals is right across the street, jet skis and kayaks lining the dock.

rafe leans back in his chair, “dad’s finally starting to trust me to, like, step into his position at the company.” he pauses for a beat, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “he’s flying out of state next week, and he’s leavin’ me in charge while he’s gone.”

you just stare at him, a faint smile tugging at your lips without even realizing it. you can feel the pride in your expression as you tell him, “rafe, that’s really good. i’m proud of you.”

he grins wider, clearly trying to play it cool, and then takes a massive, messy bite of his sandwich. he chews with the gusto of someone who thinks a bite is a whole experience, sauce smearing slightly at the corner of his mouth.

you reach over instinctively, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a napkin and tossing it back down on the table before going back to your sandwich like it’s second nature.

he swallows and continues, “he hasn’t really told me much, but i figure he’s got some new properties lined up, maybe working out deals or, like, finalizing stuff with investors. you know how he is.”

“yeah, that sounds like ward,” you say, taking another bite, your eyes never leaving him.

“so he’s gonna give me this schedule,” he adds, “a ‘run-down’ or whatever, of what i’ll need to cover. probably sit at the office, sign some stuff, and meet with clients or partners who can’t be pushed off until he’s back.”

“sounds pretty official,” you say, trying to imagine rafe at a desk, talking clients through real estate deals like he was born for it. “do you know what kind of properties he’s working on?”

he shrugs, a small smirk still lingering as he speaks. “knowing him? probably something big—new development or another investment property he wants to secure. he’s been hinting at something ‘game-changing’, like some waterfront project.”

you hum thoughtfully. “so you’ll be doing the groundwork? like, maybe even closing a deal?”

“yeah, maybe,” he says, sounding a little impressed with himself. “i’ll actually get to see if i can handle it.”

it's nice to see rafe so eager to step up, to take on something this big, probably just to prove himself to his dad. he always acts so casual about the family business, but there’s a spark in his eyes today, and you think . . . he can maybe handle being ward cameron for a week.

you just hope you can stay here long enough to see him prove it.

he’s finishing his sandwich, wiping his mouth with a crumpled napkin, and suddenly he’s looking right at you. “oh, yeah—did you ever tell me how that call went with your mom?”

it takes you a second. right, that call with your mom. you remember mentioning it to sarah, but rafe? he still doesn’t even know you hung out with sarah and the others while he was off fishing with ward.

“oh, yeah,” you say, smiling as if the thought just occurred to you. “it was fine. nice to hear from her, i guess. i miss them.” you shrug, playing it casual. but the truth is, you kind of do.

rafe nods, shifting his empty plate and leaning back in his chair, still watching you as he says, “that’s good. i mean, you get so wrapped up in life on the island, it’s easy to go a while without catching up.”

he talks on, making small comments about family and how he totally gets it, but as you sit there, nodding occasionally, your mind is somewhere else entirely.

you almost forgot about that call with your ‘in-this-universe mom.’ it seems so strange—no, it’s stranger that you forgot about it at all. and dad . . . right, your i.t.u. dad was there, too, wasn’t he?

wait . . what?

you feel a slight prickle of discomfort, shifting in your seat as you try to catch every third word rafe’s saying, but really, your mind is circling back to that call.

dad. mom. two words, so familiar. but why are they slipping through your fingers, blurring just a bit?

you force yourself to remember something about them, to pull up a memory, clear as day.

oh! like that one time you and mom spent the whole afternoon baking, sugar and flour coating every surface in the kitchen . . . and dad was there, wasn’t he? but what did he do? your chest tightens, just slightly, and you fidget with your napkin.

okay, try again.

dad. right. he was . . . wait, no, he was definitely there—no, he was doing something.

and then, just like that, the memory clicks into place. right, he’d taken one look at the mess you and mom made, then grabbed the dog and headed out, calling back that he’d be home ‘once the tornado’s over,’ and you and mom laughed.

you exhale, relief washing over you, but there’s still a flicker of something unsettling. why couldn’t you remember that right away?

you try another memory, to reassure yourself. dad did this, mom did that. you’re sifting through so many small, precious fragments, but there’s something strange about each one, something hollow.

the parents you remember—your parents—were so vivid before. but as you replay these memories in your head, they feel softer, blurred at the edges. somehow, they seem more like your parents here—the way they’re talking, laughing, looking at you with the same expressions as your i.t.u. parents.

your stomach twists, realization beginning to dawn, but you can’t even hold onto what that realization is. the longer you stay in this world, the harder it seems to be to grasp what was real and what was . . . this.

are you forgetting your memories?

authors note: okay poor execution LMAO but i know if i was y/n, i wouldve wanted to stay in this universe but we cant have that, so essentially the conflict / the thing that makes her work harder to solve all the relationships in this life for obx!y/n is that shes losing her memories from her real life the longer shes there.

does that make sense?? 😭 like she cant have her cake n eat it too, she can only have one lifetimes memories, her real ones or the ones that belong to the y/n who lives in this universe. makes her work faster to get back to her world so she doesnt feel like she can stay !!

tags: @v2los @cosmixstar @meeuhsworld @lovdrew @lilithblackkk @rovckwells @cherrylooney @iissza @namelesslosers @cocolovey @rafeyswrd @odairtrqsh @gretag13 @vivian-555 @lunaleah @smol-coffee-addict @twinge-vix @drewsephrry @behindviolettwrites @avngrssckr @stonerroadbull @cali-888 @coquettajob @simpingcorner @nymphetkoo @pinkpantheris @ilyrafe @romaescapes @thereallifebambi @inaluvrsworld @rafesweetie @faephoria @solo-pitstop-vibes @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @sgecorrow @rafesgiirl @ravisinghs-wife @booksntings @tinyfairies @maybankslover @honeyluvsatj @darleneslane @alysaaaa444 @w4nnabeurs @thewrittenpodcast @watersquirtpewpewboomm @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @benbarneslut @illicit-affcirs @helo1281917 ++

[caitified]

i luv ur fics omg 😭 could u do paige x reader who loves horror where paige is scared of horror and they go to halloween horror nights (a haunted house theme park event thing) or watch a horror movie together 💜

haunt

paige bueckers x reader

warnings: none! as someone who gets scared easily i basically wrote myself here as paige..happy late halloween.

you and paige had been planning halloween night for weeks, and tonight was finally the night. there was a haunted house in town everyone had been talking about. at first, paige had acted super confident, teasing you about how you’d be clinging to her the whole time. but as the days passed and halloween night got closer, you noticed a slight shift—her teasing softened, and she started hinting that maybe haunted houses weren’t really her thing. you had your suspicions, but you knew she’d never admit she was scared.

as the five of you arrived at the haunted house with azzi, jana, and aubrey, paige tried her best to play it cool. “just so you know, i’ll protect you all,” she said, winking at you while gripping your hand just a bit tighter than usual.

aubrey raised an eyebrow, giving her a skeptical smile. “sure, paige. we’ll all depend on you.”

azzi and jana exchanged amused glances, both of them a bit more excited than scared, though you could tell they were gearing up for the jump-scares. the entrance to the haunted house loomed ahead, dark and eerie, with creepy music and distant screams filtering out through the walls. you felt paige shift beside you, her fingers trembling slightly as she glanced nervously at the darkened doorway.

“you good, paige?” you teased, leaning close and squeezing her hand.

“me? scared?” she scoffed, sounding a bit too quick to dismiss the idea. “nah, i’m just… mentally preparing.” her voice was confident, but her eyes kept flicking back to the entrance.

you just laughed, finding her bravado adorable. “right, you’ll keep us all safe from the monsters.”

“obviously,” she shot back, puffing up a little. “but, uh, don’t let go of my hand, just in case.”

as you all stepped inside, the door slammed shut with a loud bang, and paige jumped, squeezing your hand even tighter. azzi and aubrey snickered, giving her playful nudges as you walked further into the dimly lit, twisting hallways. shadows seemed to move on their own, and every corner held another actor ready to jump out. with every lunge or sudden scream, you felt paige tense, inching closer and closer to you.

“you sure you’re okay?” you whispered, catching the way her eyes darted around at every little noise.

“totally fine,” she whispered back, trying to sound casual, though her grip on your hand was practically a death grip.

the first jump-scare came from a figure dressed as a ghoul, who leaped out from behind a doorway, and paige let out a yelp, practically leaping into your arms. azzi burst out laughing, clapping her hands, while aubrey teased, “our fearless leader, everyone!”

paige shot them both a glare, mumbling, “it just… caught me off guard.”

jana gave her a knowing smile, shrugging. “if you say so, paige.”

moving on, you came into a foggy room filled with eerie mannequins, some posed in twisted, unnatural shapes. the group hesitated, glancing around, when suddenly one of the “mannequins” came to life, lunging toward you all with a guttural scream. everyone screamed and scrambled, with paige clutching you even closer, burying her face against your shoulder for a moment before peeking out to see if the coast was clear.

“that wasn’t… that bad,” she mumbled, cheeks pink.

“not at all,” you teased, leaning in close. “want me to hold your hand through the rest?”

she rolled her eyes but didn’t let go. “don’t act like you’re not a little scared too,” she murmured, though her voice softened as her fingers laced with yours, grounding herself with your presence.

as the group continued, azzi and jana took the lead, laughing as they bravely navigated the dark hallways, while aubrey stayed closer to you and paige, occasionally tossing a smirk your way when paige shrieked at another scare. when you entered a pitch-black room with only faint, echoing whispers, paige’s breath caught, and she leaned even closer, her hand warm and steady in yours.

“i can’t see anything,” she whispered, her voice a mix of fear and excitement.

you leaned into her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “i’ve got you, paige.”

by the time you made it out to the exit, paige let out a long, relieved breath, still holding your hand as if she didn’t want to let go.

“so… not scary, huh?” you grinned, looking up at her.

paige finally laughed, letting go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “fine, you win,” she said, grinning down at you. “but next year, we’re carving pumpkins or something.”

sorry for the lack of fics, i’ve been really busy but i’ll be writing more now. requests are STILL open!! thanks for reading

[amiableness]

Peonies ; part four

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mattheo is in an awful mood after the party while Theo takes reader to the peony field.

Word Count: 4772

Warnings: Unrequited love & Mattheo and Theo get into it. Reader overthinks for a little bit. Mentions of drugging? One mention of Y/n. Let me know if there’s more!

A/N 💌 I can't tell you how nervous I am to post this, I feel like it's not my best work. But regardless, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. As usual thank you to @moonpascal for reading, helping me with ideas, and just providing support and comfort. I love you endlessly!

SERIES MASTERLIST <3

“Did something happen last night between you and Mattheo?” Pansy asks, throwing the door open with an expectant look. Despite your low mood, you can’t help but crack a tiny smile at the sight of her—hair a tousled mess, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. She’s the perfect picture of someone who had way too much fun last night.

“Is there any particular reason you’re asking?” You reply cautiously, eyes following her as she saunters over and slips into bed beside you. She gives the blanket a hard tug, leaving you to huff in irritation when she claims more than her fair share.

“Because I heard him and Veronica fighting. I didn’t catch much, but I did hear your name.” Pansy looks you over, taking in your rumpled clothes and tired eyes. You’re not in much better shape than she is, and she can't tell if it’s the lingering effects of last night’s drinks or the aftermath of whatever happened with Mattheo.

“Merlin,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and sinking deeper into the warmth of your bed. You haven’t moved since Theo left about twenty minutes ago, and you’re not sure if you’ll find the energy to do so anytime soon. Honestly, the idea of staying curled up here is more tempting than you'd like to admit. “We got into it again last night.”

“Again?” Pansy raises an eyebrow, shifting to face you.

“Apparently, he does care.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

“He told you that?” Pansy shifts so quickly it’s as if you’ve shocked her. Both of you know very well that Mattheo isn’t the type to open up about what he’s feeling. Years of watching him around his parents taught you why—with how many times you had seen them scold him for even a flicker of emotion, it was no wonder he kept everything locked up.

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling, “He said he wanted me to admit I have feelings for him too.” Pansy's eyes widen, her mouth falling open as she stares at you in disbelief.

“Feeling for him too?” She echoes, and you finally turn to meet her eyes with a weak nod. Your best friend sits there for a moment, studying your face carefully before choosing her next words. She knows she has a nasty habit of saying the first thing on her mind without considering that it might not be what you need to hear.

Pansy sits up, grabbing the pillow she was using and hugging it to her chest as she stares at you impatiently. She’s waiting to hear if you’ve finally told the boy you’ve been head over heels for, for years, that you like him too. “Well? Did you?”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Please, tell me it’s for the reason I’m thinking.” She all but begs, her eyes wide with hope.

You let out a weary sigh. “I don’t know when I stopped having feelings for him, Pans. I didn’t even realize I’d lost them until he asked me to tell him I felt the same, and there was just...”

“Just..?” Pansy prompts gently.

A pause hangs between you as you search for the right words.

You hardly slept last night; your mind raced with thoughts of the past few months, trying to pinpoint when and how your feelings faded so quietly. You had liked Mattheo for so long, even convinced yourself that maybe you even loved him. But how could you truly love someone who was so closed off? Sure, he turned to you when he was struggling, but that didn’t mean he ever shared what he was feeling. He liked your presence and relied on you to be there whenever he needed support, but he never trusted you enough to truly let you in.

Not in the way you wanted, at least.

If he wasn’t comfortable with his own emotions, there was no way he would be able to handle yours. Maybe that was the heart of it—the realization that he would never fully open up to you, and that had kept you from falling in love with him. And maybe that was the best thing that could have happened, no matter how painful or uncomfortable it was to come to terms with at the beginning.

Then there was Theo. Who had promised to help you get over Mattheo, and from that moment on, he was there for you without hesitation. He held your hand whenever you needed it, and honestly, you had begun to lean on him a bit too much—being close to him had become your favorite feeling. He never made it feel like supporting you was a chore; instead, he made it seem like something he had always longed to do.

In truth, everything had changed for you. Spending time with Theo was no longer just a way to distract yourself from Mattheo; it became where you wanted to be. Being around him made you feel safe and accepted in a way you hadn’t realized you craved.

And that was absolutely terrifying.

You sit up abruptly, fully facing Pansy, “When you said that you thought Theo would give me everything if I let him, did you mean that?”

“Babes,” she begins, sending you a soft smile. “I’ve always thought you would be good for Mattheo. You bring something out in him; he’s happiest when he’s around you. Veronica seemed to make him happy at first—” she adds with a snort—“but nowhere near the level you do.”

“But with Theo…” Pansy trails off. “I’ve never seen you so happy—and not the kind of happy you were with Mattheo. It’s not the relief of him not having a one-night stand or flirting with you a bit bolder at a party. It’s genuine happiness; you’re truly yourself. Theo brings out a different side of you, and you do that for him, too.”

Glancing over at the vase of red peonies, battling the tightness in your throat and the sting in your eyes. You decide you’d rather not spend the day in bed.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Since last night, Theo has been struggling to push away the thought that maybe the idea of you having feelings for him isn’t so far-fetched. Especially after you’d implied that the two of you were together to the girl who’d tried to flirt with him. The way you’d intertwined your fingers with his, staking a silent claim that he was off-limits, had left him reeling. There was no way you’d be so possessive if you didn’t feel the same. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself all morning.

And then there was the way you hadn’t been able to answer Mattheo about your feelings. Theo’s whole heart had been in his throat as he waited for you to tell Mattheo that you did have feelings for him, that you’d had them for years. But you hadn’t answered.

In a way, though, you had, hadn’t you? You’d pushed past Mattheo without a word and gone straight to him.

“Are you coming with us to Hogsmeade or not?” Enzo nudges Theo, pulling him out of his thoughts. The boys had all planned to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend, a plan set firmly in stone since last weekend. But when Theo saw you this morning, he couldn’t hold back. On impulse, he asked if you wanted to spend some time together, suggesting—almost shyly—that he could finally show you where he’d been getting the peonies.

“No, I’ve got plans.” Theo shrugs, and Draco sends him an irritated look from the opposite couch.

“We made plans.” Draco huffs, clearly agitated with the change. He always hated it when the boys ditched at the last second.

“Something came up.” Theo sighs, hoping that he’ll let it go quickly. He’s well aware that Mattheo should be coming down the stairs at any second. Enzo had told them that he was taking forever to get ready, probably hungover from last night. 

“You mean your girl.” Blaise corrects, and Draco looks disgusted. His head swings back to look at Theo.

“You’re ditching us for her? Mate, that’s pathetic.” Draco scoffs. “She isn’t even your girlfriend.”

“She’s pretty damn close.” Blaise points out, and Theo tries his best to ignore the feeling that jolts through him when he thinks of you as his girlfriend.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything—not that he would have—before Mattheo walks over to join the group. He claps a hand on Draco’s shoulder, only for Draco to shrug him off irritably. “C’mon,” Mattheo says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the others rise, stretching and adjusting their robes, Theo remains seated, gaze fixed on the fireplace in front of him. Mattheo pauses, giving him a puzzled look, one brow lifting in question. “You’re not coming?”

“No.” Theo answers curtly, clearly uninterested in extending the conversation. The truth is, he hasn't spoken to Mattheo in quite a while, and when they do, it’s nothing but tension—a quiet frustration simmering beneath each exchange.

Mattheo’s curiosity sharpens. “Why not?”

“He’s got plans with his girl,” Draco interjects with a roll of his eyes, impatience seeping into his voice. “Now, can we go? We’ve waited long enough for you as it is.”

“Wait. Hold on,” Mattheo turns to face him fully, and Draco huffs when he realizes they’re not going to be leaving any time soon. “Your girl?”

“You know what he means.” Blaise interjects calmly, his eyes shifting to Mattheo as he watches tension coil through his stance.

Mattheo gives a casual shrug, though his jaw tightens. “No, Blaise, I really don’t.”

Theo huffs, rolling his eyes as he stands, making to push past. “Why the hell do you even care?”

Mattheo’s hand snaps out, stopping him mid-step. “You know why I care.”

Theo’s gaze darkens, voice low. “Oh, you mean because of your feelings for her?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Does your girlfriend know that you told Y/n you’ve always liked her?”

Theo’s eyes flicker over Mattheo’s shoulder, catching the shared looks between Blaise, Enzo, and Draco. There’s no shock in their expressions—only a knowing look as if they’d been bracing for this moment all along. It’s unsettling, the way they seem almost resigned, like they’ve seen the tension building between him and Mattheo from a mile away.

Mattheo scoffs, an edge of irritation slipping into his voice. “Did she go and tell you everything I said?”

Theo raises a brow, “No, I overheard you. But even if she did, what does it matter to you?”

Matteo narrows his eyes, “Because I care about her.”

“Bullshit. If you cared about her, you wouldn’t have put her in that position last night.”

“I care about her more than you think.” Mattheo bites out, and the boys watch carefully as Mattheo takes another step forward.

“Right,” Theo scoffs, “You care so much you went and found yourself another girl.”

Theo sees it before Mattheo even speaks—the subtle shift in his expression, the tightening of his jaw, the flicker of defensiveness flashing in his eyes. “I wasn’t ready to—”

“So you weren’t ready for her? But you were for Veronica? I don’t get it. You can’t just expect her to always be there when you finally figure out what you want.”

Mattheo laughs in disbelief, “I wasn’t waiting, I—”

“Then what the hell were you doing?” Theo’s voice sharpens. “You had years to tell her how you felt, and you didn’t say anything. Then you get a girlfriend, she starts spending time with me, and all of a sudden, you care? Leave her alone and quit messing with her.”

“I’m not fucking messing with her—”

“You are. You’ve been doing it for years.” Theo’s eyes flash with frustration, and suddenly he feels the urge to make it clear that he wants you—that he always has, and Mattheo isn’t the only one. “She deserves better than someone who can’t make up their mind. She deserves to be someone’s first choice.”

Mattheo’s expression hardens and his tone drops. “And that’s you?”

Theo doesn’t have the chance to answer, because Veronica’s shriek causes both their heads to snap in her direction, “Matty!”

Theo watches as Mattheo steps back, anger giving way to frustration, a quiet curse slipping from his lips at the sight of his girlfriend. Veronica strides forward, pushing right past Blaise and Enzo without a second glance. Blaise shoots her an agitated look, irritation flashing in his eyes as she barrels through.

“I thought you said you guys were going to Hogsmeade.” Veronica smiles, reaching out to take Mattheo’s hand, but he subtly pulls away, dodging her touch with a flicker of impatience in his eyes.

“We are.” He grumbles under his breath, but Veronica keeps smiling sweetly, unfazed, as if her boyfriend hadn’t just blatantly brushed off her attempt to hold his hand. Mattheo turns to leave, muttering something to the boys, likely a brief comment about their plans.

Theo watches as an agitated Mattheo strides out of the common room, with the boys trailing behind him. But the boys glance back at Theo, their expressions a mix of caution and confusion. Theo turns to leave as well, but Veronica’s voice stops him, soft and pointed, just loud enough for him to hear.

“You should tell your girlfriend that last night was a mistake,” she murmurs, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips. “Mattheo thought she was me; you know how he gets after a few too many drinks.”

Theo thinks about correcting her, letting her know that he doesn’t really know what she means at all. From what he saw last night, Mattheo was tipsy—not that drunk—and Theo has had enough years of experience to tell the difference. But instead, he shrugs it off, deciding he’d rather find you than spend any more time in the common room.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Hogsmeade is that way.” You say, a bit confused, gesturing in the opposite direction as you walk beside Theo.

“I know.” He replies simply, his gaze flickering back to the trail that you’ve never gone down before. Honestly, you had no idea it even existed. It’s evident that this path isn’t used often, as moss and grass have claimed most of the walkway. Vibrant wildflowers dot the sides, their colors brightening the greenery around them. 

He’s been quiet for most of the walk, which feels strange; you’re not used to this side of him. The more time you’ve spent with Theo, the more he’s opened up—sharing memories of his late mum, the weight of his father’s expectations, and his hopes for the future. These walks, where you slowly unravel each other’s stories, have become your thing, something that only the two of you share.

You frown slightly, glancing at him as you try to piece it together. “But I thought you said you got the flowers from a shop.”

“I never said that.” Theo’s lips curve into that soft, gentle smile that never fails to send your stomach into a flutter. “I said I’d take you with me the next time I went to get some. I never said it was in Hogsmeade.”

It takes you a second, too enamored with the view in front of you for it all to click. The walk isn’t long, but as you continue down the path, you spot a patch of red ahead. It stands out against the greenery, a cluster of flowers blooming a pretty, vibrant hue. You can’t quite tell what kind they are, but when you glance at Theo, you notice the way his eyes flicker nervously, and it suddenly feels like you’re walking toward something important.

But then it hits you all at once: “They’re peonies.”

On instinct, you grab Theo’s hand, giving it a playful tug to urge him along toward the blooms. He lets out a soft laugh at your enthusiasm, and a warmth fills you as his earlier mood seems to lift, the tension in his shoulders fading.

When you reach the edge of the flower field, you pause, still holding Theo’s hand as your gaze lingers over the vibrant blooms stretching out before you. Theo glances at you, heart beating a little faster as he wonders what you’re thinking, but he brushes aside his nerves and releases your hand, shrugging off his jacket to lay it carefully on the ground. You murmur to him, urging him not to squish any of the flowers, and Theo smiles, his expression softening as he gently reassures you that he won’t.

There isn’t much room on his jacket, so you find yourself pressed against Theo’s side—though you don’t mind in the slightest. He’s leaned back on his hands, while you sit cross-legged beside him.

The quiet is soothing, broken only by the soft chatter of birds and the occasional hum of an insect drifting from flower to flower. The warmth of the sun on your skin feels heavenly, its heat a welcome contrast to the long, cold months that have passed.

“Is this why you left? The first night you stayed with me?” You ask, glancing to the right to watch his reaction. 

From where you’re seated, you can see how the sunlight catches every small detail of his face, highlighting any imperfections. There’s the faint mole on his cheekbone, his dark lashes that you’re secretly jealous of, and the thin scar along his chin from when he fell off his broom as a kid. Another mark splits through his brow—a scar whose origin he could never quite remember, but has always just been there. It tugs at you, knowing you can recall the origins of his faded scars. It might seem trivial, but it means he’s let you in, sharing parts of himself that not everyone gets to see.

Theo nods, “I had to go early in the morning to give them to Pansy. With practice later, it was the only chance I could.”

A smile creeps onto your face as you imagine Theo, slightly awkward but determined, handing over the bundle of flowers and the little card to Pansy, who no doubt teased him relentlessly. You’d had wondered how she noticed that Theo was different with you, especially when most of your time together was just the two of you. But now, hearing this, you understand perfectly how she recognized a side of him that only seems to surface around you.

“I didn’t want to leave, y’know.” Theo continues, finally glancing over at you, and the effect is instant—those watercolor eyes meet yours, sending a flutter through your stomach as you instinctively lean closer, feeling yourself melt into his side.

“The flowers made up for it,” you tease, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Aside from you, they were the only thing that made me feel better.”

“Yeah?” Theo glances down at you, tucked into his side, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Hearing you say the flowers meant something to you eases any nerves he had—because they were never just a way to cheer you up. They were his quiet, unspoken way of telling you that he was there, that he cared. And that, despite your feelings for Mattheo, he was an option too.

“Yeah.” You confirm.

For the rest of the afternoon, you and Theo sat together, talking about whatever came to mind as you picked flowers. You gathered a few, but mostly you watched as Theo picked the ones he liked the most, adding to the small bundle that sat between you both. Watching him carefully select the prettiest flowers, knowing he was going to give them to you, made something shift inside you. If you hadn’t fully realized your feelings before, you were certain of them now.

You lost track of time with Theo, but eventually, he had to leave for practice. He handed you the freshly picked flowers and walked you back to the castle, stalling as if reluctant to say goodbye. In the end, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and murmured a quiet ‘thank you.’ You didn’t want to say goodbye either, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be the reason Theo might get into trouble.

It wasn’t until you got back to your dorm, leaning against the door with a giddy squeal, the flowers pressed to your chest, their scent lingering in the air, that the realization hit you. You should’ve kissed him. The thought made your stomach dip with excitement, and for a fleeting moment, you entertained the idea of running after him, catching him just before practice, and kissing him. Absentmindedly, your hand rises to trace your lips, lost in your racing thoughts. 

You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t notice Pansy at her desk, watching you with an amused look.

“You look like you had a good time.” Pansy smirks as you startle and send her a look before pushing away from the door.

“Pansy, I’m fucked.” You whine and she lets out a loud laugh.

“You were from the second he stayed the night with you.” You pause for a moment, letting the realization settle in, and as it does, you know she’s right. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so safe with someone—not in the way you did that night. Sure, you felt safe with Mattheo, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t compare to the way you felt when you were with Theo.

“Did you know he’s been picking me flowers?” You ask instead, setting the new bundle onto your desk before turning to face Pansy. 

“Oh, I knew.” Pansy hums, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. 

“How did I not notice?” You wonder aloud. 

“You were a little distracted.” Pansy shrugs, and you nod in agreement.

After Pansy tells you she’s meeting Blaise after practice, you briefly wonder if you should go with her. You sit on your bed, lost in thought, weighing the decision, but before you can make up your mind, Pansy is already gone.

As much as you want to see Theo, you hesitate, not wanting to assume that today meant as much to him as it did for you. It’s clear from the fact he’s been picking you flowers that he has feelings for you, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself or risk ruining something before it has a chance to begin. So, you stay in your dorm, trying to focus on an assignment you’ve been putting off for far too long, though your mind keeps drifting back to him.

So when you hear the knock, your heart skips a beat, and before you can think, you're off your bed and rushing to the door. You know exactly who is on the other side and your stomach flutters in anticipation. You pause just before opening it, taking a deep breath to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach, willing yourself to appear composed. 

You pull the door open, forcing a casual smile as you try to sound unaffected. “Hi,” you say, though your voice betrays the excitement simmering just beneath the surface.

Theo stands in front of you, one hand holding onto the doorframe. His hair is a tousled mess, and his cheeks are flushed—whether from practice or the rush of seemingly running here, you can’t quite tell.

And when he looks up at you, he’s out of breath and looks downright impatient, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You pause, thrown off and completely caught off guard. That was not what you expected him to say, and your mind spirals into the worst possible conclusions. Was he regretting what happened earlier? Apologizing for showing you the flowers, or for picking some for you? Giving you flowers at all? Maybe his feelings for you weren’t strong enough, or perhaps he only thought he had them? The thought that it could be too soon after your feelings for Mattheo crossed your mind, even though you’d started moving on from him months ago, gnaws at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, releasing the doorframe and stepping forward, one step, then another. He pauses, giving you a moment to pull away if you need to, but you stay rooted to the spot, unable to move. Theo stands so close now that you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his gaze. He reaches up, and your breath catches when his thumb gently brushes against your cheek, his hand settling just below your ear. His voice is quiet, but the weight of his words makes your heart stutter. “I should’ve kissed you, dolcezza.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin as he steps even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His words tumble out in a rush, desperate and raw. “All through practice, all I could think about was you. The moment I walked away, I just wanted to turn around and kiss you.” His voice drops to a whisper, low and thick with a longing that sends shivers down your spine.

You murmur his name softly, but he’s barely listening, his gaze intense as he leans in slightly, his lips just inches from yours. “Fuck, you've been on my mind for months—years, if I'm being honest. I feel like I’m losing my mind, wondering if you feel even a fraction of what I do.” His hand still lingers at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, the warmth of his touch sending a tremor through you as if he’s waiting for something—waiting for you to say what he’s too afraid to ask.

It’s you who closes the distance, your lips meeting his in a sudden, fervent kiss that catches him off guard, pulling a surprised moan from deep in his throat. His body reacts instantly, his free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you against him. The sound he makes causes a rush of warmth to flood your veins. He’s hardly touched, and you’re already too warm, and your knees threaten to buckle beneath you. You let him guide you backward, the pressure of his hand firm against your back until your steps falter just inside your dorm. Every inch of him feels like fire against your skin, and your previous worries fade into nothing.

Once you’re inside, he kicks the door closed with a thud but the sound barely registers. Without any hesitation, he presses you back against the door, his body close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. But you want him closer. So much closer. One hand rests flat against the door beside your head, while the other cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. Then, it’s him who leans in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that deepens with an aching intensity. There’s no rush now—just an overwhelming wave of longing, a perfect culmination of the emotions you’ve both held back. Your head spins, your heart races, and you’re certain that if you could take your temperature in this moment, it would be burning hot.

But then, slowly, he pulls back just enough to break the kiss, his breath heavy and uneven. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, both of you struggling to catch your breath. You feel the urge to close the distance between you again, to press your lips to his, because there’s something about the way Theo kisses that leaves you breathless, already craving more. But then again, maybe it’s just him—the way his touch makes a thrill course through you.

“I wanted you to kiss me before you left—”

The door jolts against your back, halting you mid-sentence as Pansy’s voice cuts through the moment. “What the hell? Open the door.” You hold your breath, hoping that if you stay silent, she might forget the whole thing and simply go away.

But that’s wishful thinking: “Babes. Please open the door."

“I thought you were hanging out with Blaise.” You call back, stealing a glance at Theo, whose expression mirrors your own surprise. Before leaving practice, he’d told Blaise to keep Pansy distracted—he wanted time with you because he had planned on telling you exactly how he felt about you.

“It’s about Mattheo.” Your brows raise is surprise at the intensity in Pansy’s voice and you fling open the door without another thought.

“What’s wrong?” Theo stands behind you, watching the way your face turns nervous.

“Veronica’s been giving him a love potion,” she says softly, her eyes studying your face as it twists in disbelief. “He’s in the infirmary... and he’s asking for you.”

please please please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

I'll Send an SOS to Your Heart

-------

"Ok, I'm imagining things."

Steve is laying on his bed watching his lights flicker.

He plugged in one of those space projectors that's supposed to make your ceiling look like the night sky.

It's not weird that they're flickering, the light was a dollar at Melvads he wasn't expecting it to work long.

The weird part is that the stars keep making a heart shape.

He sees the heart flash a couple of times before he flips over and hides deeper into his pillow.

"No." He groans. "No more upside down shit."

If some upside-down monster was flirting with him he quits.

All the lights in his room surge to maximum brightness.

"Fuck off."

The lights draw a middle finger.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" He jumps out of bed and points at the orbs.

It draws a winky face. (;P)

"Who are you?"

His blood runs cold. An upside down monster can't flirt with him. They don't know English. He has an idea but it can't be true.

They left him there. He's dead.

...isn't he?

'SOS' the lights read.

"Fuck." Tears spring to his eyes. "Eddie?"

'Hiya'

-----

He spends a while talking to Eddie.

It's tough.

It takes a while to write everything out and Steve is still trying not to hyperventilate or cry or pass out so it's taking a lot of energy to keep up the conversation.

'Sleep?'

"No."

'?'

"Nothing I'm just...not tired."

'Liar'

"WHAT! I'm not I just-"

'-_-'

"Fine."

':)'

"I'm scared."

'Me?'

"No, I'm scared this is a dream. That I fell asleep hours ago and I made you out of my guilty conscious. I just don't want to lose you...again."

'Back'

"Back?"

'Bring back'

"Bring...you back?"

'YES'

"You think we can bring you back?"

'Plan'

"Yes! I'll call everyone we can figure it out. Oh! We have El to help us this time! You're gonna love her Eds she's just like the kids you look out for and she's magic! I'll call them right-"

'NO'

"No?"

'tom- sleep now'

"I think this is a little more important than-"

'Sleep <3'

Steve looks over at the clock, 4 am.

Shit.

"Ok. I'm going to sleep. Will you...will you be here in the morning?"

'W STEVIE'

"Ok. Goodnight Eddie."

'GN <3'

----

The plan goes off without a hitch.

It takes them about two weeks to formulate and execute the plan.

Steve spends his days and nights talking to Eddie, keeping him updated. Keeping him in his life.

He speed runs a crisis or two when he realizes he wants to spend the remainder of his days speaking to Eddie.

He can't wait until he's here with him.

Alive.

-----

So it's more complicated than he thought.

Maybe there's a hoard or bats blocking them from Eddie.

Maybe Steve throws himself in front of the kids and fights off the creatures long enough for them to find Eddie and get him back home.

Maybe Steve bleeds a little too much and collapsed as soon as they reach the other side.

----

He wakes in the hospital to nine pairs of eyes staring at him.

They're all arguing with each other. Their voices low as if they're trying not to wake them.

He wants to talk he wants to reach out.

Eddie is standing by the door in a baseball cap and sunglasses as if he was trying to be inconspicuous.

As if Eddie could ever hide from Steve. Steve would find him anywhere he is.

God, he's here! He's in the room! All this time apart and he's so close!

"Mphahhpsh" he can't form words but it doesn't matter.

Everyone stops and Eddie's eyes meet his. His eyes look wet and he looks skinny and exhausted.

He's never looked more beautiful.

Eddie's eyes turn down into a determined glare. He pushes past everyone until he's inches away from Steve.

He takes a deep breath and then leans down and kisses him.

Flat on the mouth. In front of everyone.

The shocked noises are what pulls them apart.

"I'm so happy to see you, I really like you," Steve says.

"That's my line." Eddie smiles and kisses him again.

"Don't ever try to save me again I can't ever see you in a hospital again," Eddie presses their noses together.

"That's my line."

Eddie chuckles and pushes his nose into Steve's cheek. "Dork."

"Yes, yes, you're both terrible. Now what the fuck is happening."

They break apart to see the crews shocked faces. Mike's face is pale and Dustin is an interesting shade of red.

Robin is staring at him a little proud.

He sends a wink her way and pulls Eddie in closer.

They'll figure it all out later. They have time.

----

This started with once sentence in my brain and grew into three different plot points I put together in a rush. :P

Please comment I love to read em!

[rvmoviest]

my girlfriend is a witch

witch! reader x karina

Karina's girlfriend had ghosted her on Halloween, leaving her feeling abandoned and confused. But that unexpected silence ultimately led Karina to uncover Y/N’s biggest secret—a revelation that turned everything she thought she knew about their relationship upside down.

1358 words (may do a part 2 but i don't know)

October 31st, Halloween night—a thrilling time to be with friends, hitting up parties after a cozy evening of horror movies, hot chocolate, and pumpkin-shaped cookies. But for Karina, the day was anything but fun. It was all because her lovely girlfriend had texted her last minute: "can't hang out today, enjoy with the girls. love you, baby <3."

Of course, she loved spending time with her friends, but not when she was the only one without her partner. Seeing Yizhuo cuddled up with her girlfriend made her miss Y/N's warm embrace; watching Minjeong bake those pumpkin cookies with her partner only reminded her of how Y/N would wrap her arms around her from behind whenever they cooked together. And the hardest part? Watching Aeri get showered with kisses when all she wanted was her Y/N by her side. The entire evening, Karina couldn’t help but complain, wishing she could just be with the one person she truly wanted there with her.

Karina had hoped things would get better by nightfall—maybe a party, a few drinks, and then she’d crash at home. But instead, she felt even more irritated. First off, she hated her eyeliner; Y/N usually did it for her and always made it look perfect, way better than she could manage herself. And then there was the fact that her girlfriend hadn’t texted her all day after that one message: “Can’t hang out today, enjoy with the girls. Love you, baby <3.” What could possibly be keeping her so busy that she couldn’t even send a quick follow-up text? The more she thought about it, the more it got under her skin.

The final straw came when Karina passed by Y/N’s house on the way to the party. She noticed Y/N’s car parked in the driveway, lights on, and faint voices coming from inside. Her heart dropped. Y/N couldn’t be cheating on her… right? The thought made her stomach twist, and she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was off.

“You should stop by,” Aeri suggested, swirling a cup of vodka in her hand. “I mean, she’s your girlfriend. She should let you know what’s going on.”

“Maybe she just needs some time to herself,” Yizhuo offered, then paused, remembering. “Like on her birthday, when she left the party super early and… yeah. You should go check on her.”

Being in a relationship with Y/N had always been… strange. She’d disappear unexpectedly, only to come back like nothing happened. Sometimes, she’d talk to herself or even to animals. Once, Karina had woken up in the middle of the night to find Y/N muttering something in the bathroom amid strange noises. But despite the oddities, Karina could hardly imagine her girlfriend cheating. Y/N treated her like a queen—gifts, regular date nights, help with college work, and fierce loyalty against anyone who dared give her a hard time. Yet, the thought lingered, making her question: Could she?

After a couple of beers and some persuasion from her friends, Karina finally decided to head to Y/N’s house. Y/N shared the place with five other girls—all seniors in college: Joohyun, Seulgi, Wendy, Sooyoung, and Yeri. They were all undeniably gorgeous, but Y/N had always reassured her, saying, “They’re like family; I’d never date any of them.”

Normally, Karina would believe her without a second thought. But tonight, with a few drinks swirling in her system and jealousy creeping in, she couldn’t shake the memory of how Seulgi always seemed to dote on her girlfriend, stopping by her room to offer snacks or just to hang out. What if… Y/N was cheating on her with Seulgi? The thought made Karina’s heart race as she approached the door.

Karina knocked once, then twice. She could hear the girls’ voices inside, but no one came to open the door. Luckily, she knew about the spare key hidden in the plant pot by the door. She grabbed it and quietly let herself in, the voices inside abruptly falling silent.

“Someone’s inside,” she heard one of the voices say.

Before she could think of hiding, a sharp knife flashed near her neck—a prop, she realized, held by a girl in a purple cape. The girl pulled off her hat, revealing Yeri, one of Y/N’s roommates, staring at her in shock.

“What the hell?” Yeri muttered, her eyes wide. “Y/N, why is your girlfriend here?”

“My girlfriend?” came Y/N’s voice, and then she appeared, draped in a red cape. Her face twisted in confusion as she looked at Karina. “Rina, what are you doing here?”

Karina could have tried to play it cool, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them.

“Y/N, are you cheating on me?”

"I’m… what?!"

"Guys, can we please get back to the ritual? The guy’s about to wake up," Seulgi said, appearing in a yellow cape before noticing Karina. "Oh, hey, Karina."

"Can we take a break? Like, half an hour? I need to get Rina home," Y/N said, slipping off her cape to reveal a skin-tight black dress that made Karina momentarily forget her suspicions. How was her girlfriend this gorgeous?

Y/N walked over and took Karina’s hands, guiding her toward the front door. But as they passed the living room, Karina caught a glimpse of a guy tied up and sound asleep on the coffee table. Before she could react, Y/N quickly covered her eyes and ushered her outside.

"What the hell is going on?" Karina demanded, stopping in her tracks and forcing Y/N to stop too. "First, you disappear all day, then there’s some weird cult thing happening in your house, and I saw a guy tied up in the middle of the room! Can you please explain?"

Y/N stayed silent, her gaze fixed on the moon as she bit her lip, hesitating.

“It’s… complicated,” Y/N said, letting go of Karina’s hands and brushing her hair back. She took a deep breath before meeting Karina’s eyes and finally said, “Rina, I’m a witch.”

Karina’s first reaction was to laugh—hard. She doubled over, tears spilling from her eyes, until she realized Y/N was watching her in complete silence.

“You mean, like… a Halloween witch? Right?” she asked, still chuckling.

“Rina, there was a literal guy tied up in my living room.”

“As a joke?”

“As in, he’s an asshole incel and a virgin and we’re offering his blood to Satan,” Y/N deadpanned.

“Yeah, right.” Karina rolled her eyes. “Can you please be serious now?”

Y/N sighed, then lowered her hands to her sides and whistled sharply. Karina was about to ask what she was doing when, suddenly, a broom flew across the yard and landed right in Y/N’s hand.

“I know it’s weird,” Y/N said softly. “But I love you, and I don’t want us to break up just because of who I am.”

Karina’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re… actually a witch?” she stammered, staring at the broom in her girlfriend’s hand. “Like, brooms, hats, and—God forbid—pacts with the devil?”

“Kind of.” Y/N said with a shrug, a small, nervous smile playing on her lips.

There she was, standing in front of the girl she loved, who wasn’t cheating on her but was preparing to sacrifice a guy in her living room. Y/N wasn’t betraying her with someone else; she was making pacts with the devil. And here was Karina, raised Catholic and grappling with all of this.

But despite the absurdity of it all, she realized she had never loved anyone like she loved Y/N, and she had never felt as cherished as Y/N made her feel. Maybe she could handle a little insanity for the sake of their love, right?

“Can you fly?” Karina asked, looking down at her feet, completely unaware of the enormous smile spreading across her girlfriend’s face.

“Yes, I can,” Y/N replied, whistling again. The broom started to hover beside her. “Do you want a ride home?”

And how could Karina possibly say no to that?

[mymindisneverhere]

FAVORS (18+)

Part Three

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, lots of dialogue, slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)

Part One | Part Two

Terry stood in the large living room, looking at himself in the full body mirror as he tightened his tie. He stared at this version of himself for a long minute. He wasn’t the tuxedo wearing type but he had to admit it didn’t look bad on him. 

Khloé had managed to hire the perfect tailor to be sure the tux would fit just right. Terry spent hours being measured, trying on different jackets and pants, and walking back and forth to ensure comfort while wearing the tux. 

She was there for every moment of it, taking him in each time he removed a shirt and replaced it with a different one. She noticed the scar on his back near his right shoulder. She wanted so badly to ask him about being shot but she decided not to. She assumed that would be too much of a sensitive subject and she didn’t want to go that route.  

Terry looked down at his watch, a simple black watch that had to be approved by Khloé of course. He was big on being punctual as well, so he made sure to keep up with time even when Khloé wasn’t. 

“Your car is down stairs, everything is set and ready to go.” Olivia said, walking into the living room. 

Terry turned to face her unsure of who she was talking to. 

“I’m driving?” 

“Yes sir, a luxury sedan has been rented for the evening. Ms. MacArthur prefers not to have drivers, she’s very strict on privacy.” Olivia spoke quickly. “The destination is already in the GPS for you. The directions will begin as soon as you pull off.” 

“Thank you.” Terry nodded and proceeded to take a seat on the large sectional sofa. He looked down at his phone, reading the messages that were pouring in from Summer. 

‘A $16,000 check just came in the mail, I know you had something to do with it!!’

‘I can’t accept this, how am I going to pay it back?’ 

‘This is too good to be true, call me as soon as you can!’ 

He was so focused on the text messages, he didn’t notice Khloé enter the room until the scent of soft florals hit his nostrils.  

“How do I look?” She asked, staring at him, a bit of innocence in her voice. 

He eyed her, starting from her feet and making his way up to the crown of her head. The long red dress she wore accentuated her hips and brought in her waist. The details were subtle but didn’t go unnoticed by Terry. The strapless dress lifted her breasts, bringing out the natural shape of them. Her hair was pinned in a beautiful updo with a few pieces framing her face, a soft curl in each. And to top it all off her signature red lip, which was clearly her favorite… and his. 

The longer he stared, the more she felt herself wanting to shrink a bit but she did her best to remain unmoved. He hardly ever wore his emotions on his sleeve so reading him was becoming a bit of a challenge for her. The nervous feeling quickly began to fade as she saw his expression soften. 

“You look beautiful.” He stood. “Red fits you perfectly.” 

She smiled at him. 

“Well let’s go, I really don’t wanna be late.” She said, grabbing her small clutch purse. “My mother won’t let me hear the last of it.” 

They headed to the lobby of the condominium. As they passed through, they earned a few stares. People couldn’t help but to turn their attention to the two of them. Khloé strutting across the floor, Terry not too far behind her. They both had very demanding auras and together their energies swarmed the room without warning. 

“I have a question.” Terry said. 

“Ask.” 

“Is this something I need to get used to?” Terry questioned, referring to the looks they received a while ago. 

“Absolutely.” She smiled up at him. 

Their car was parked in front, a young man wearing a valet jacket stood by to be sure the car went untouched. The glossy black sedan sat already running, headlights shining bright. 

Without her needing to say anything, Terry walked ahead of her and opened the passenger door, waiting for her to climb in. 

“Ooh,” She started. “Keep it up and you might earn yourself a treat.” 

Terry smirked, trying his hardest to hide his amusement. He got into the driver's seat and adjusted the seat to his liking, scooting it back until he had the proper leg room. 

“A few things I need to go over before we get there.” She began. “If anyone asks where we met, we met on vacation.” 

“How long have we been together?” He asked, putting the gear in drive and pulling off. 

“6 months. Tell them you’re in real estate. They’re gonna wanna know if you make enough money to be with me.” 

He looked over at her as they approached a red light. 

“My family only sees money, they believe that’s the only thing that’ll keep me happy. They don’t care about love or any emotions for that matter. As long as the money flows, they will mind their damn business.” She said looking over at him. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds until the bright traffic light went green. Khloé went on to tell him how he should go about speaking to her parents, what to say and what to do. She filled him in on the latest drama with her siblings and her cousins and made sure to tell him who to look out for and who to avoid at all costs. 

“Anything else I should know?” 

“Lastly, my cousin Nia. She’s a bitch. I hate her, she hates me. She’s been in competition with me since we were teenagers. I get a car, she gets a car, I get a diamond bracelet, she gets a diamond bracelet, I go to Harvard, bitch breaks her neck to go to Yale.” She pointed a stern finger to him. “You can mingle with anyone at the banquet but stay away from that sneaky bitch.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

The car ride the rest of the way was silent but the tension was impossible to ignore. Every now and then Khloé would sneak glances over at Terry while he drove, one hand on the wheel the other on his lap. She stared at his hands imagining what they’d feel like inside of her. Images of him playing in her pussy while he drove began flashing in her mind and she quickly tore her gaze from him.

He could feel her eyes on him but his expression never changed. If there was one thing he’d taken away from being a marine, it was keeping his poker face intact. There was no way she’d know what he was really thinking unless he decided to let it be known.  

“You have reached your destination.” 

They pulled up in front of the large banquet hall surrounded by guests and valet. Finally coming back into reality Khloé took a deep breath before exiting the car. 

“I got it.” Terry said, before she could grab the door handle. 

Khloé smiled to herself. ‘This one comes trained.’

He rounded the car and opened her door, placing his hand out for her to grab. She stepped out of the car and smiled at some of the guests who were entering the banquet the same time as her. 

“Ready?” She asked. 

“Ready.” 

They reached for each other's hands simultaneously, intertwining their fingers as they made their way into the building. The sound of soft music playing in the background filled their ears, along with light chatter from guests. 

They stopped at the double doors that were propped open, leading into the ballroom. Turning to him, she began fixing his tie, not that it needed fixing but to simply try and cover her nervousness. She tightened his tie, dusted his shoulders and tugged lightly on his collar. 

“I make you that nervous?” Terry smirked, staring down at her. 

“As pretty as your lips are, they're gonna keep you in trouble.” She smirked back. “Let’s enjoy the banquet.” 

Khloe held onto his arm as they entered the large ballroom. Each table was draped in white cloth, expensive tableware and champagne flutes. A large banner with the words “MacArthur Banquet” hung from the ceiling just above the small stage in the room. Khloé looked around the room taking in her surroundings. Unlike Terry, Khloé didn’t do that good of a job at hiding her emotions. 

She worried about what her parents' would think of her date. She’d hoped and prayed they wouldn’t go digging into his background to find out that not only is he a warehouse worker but that he’s also a bit of a rebel. 

“Princess!” Mr. MacArthur announced, snapping her of her thoughts. 

“Hi Daddy!” She ran to him, giving him a hug as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. 

She greeted the woman standing next to him, placing a kiss on her cheek as well. Terry stood, admiring how they embraced each other. It was clear to him that this was her mother, the woman was a spitting image of Khloé just a bit older. 

“It’s so good to see you, you look so beautiful.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled, holding onto her daughter's hand. 

Her father tore his eyes from her and they landed on Terry. “Who is this?” 

“Mom, Dad, this is Terrance.” Khloé stepped back to stand next to Terry, placing a hand on his arm. 

“Terrance this is my dad, John MacArthur and my mom Angela MacArthur.” 

“You got a last name Terrance?” Mr. MacArthur asked, placing his hand out for Terry to shake. 

“Terrance Richmond sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Terry responded, firmly shaking the man’s hand and then her mothers. 

“The pleasure is ours. It’s good to see she has someone keeping her company. I just hope you’re a strong and patient man, my Khloé can be a handful at times.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled up at him. She turned her gaze to her daughter, bringing her into another embrace. “Don’t screw this one over, okay? You don’t want to be old and alone.” 

Khloé clenched her jaw before replacing the menacing look with a fake grin. Mr. MacArthur and Mrs. MacArthur excused themselves from the two as they made their way around the room, greeting guests as they entered. 

Terry noticed the sudden change in Khloés expression no matter how hard she tried to disguise it. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“I’m fine.” She responded, running her hands down the length of her dress. “Let’s have a seat, they’re about to begin.” 

The family banquet began with greetings from Mr. and Mrs. MacArthur. The couple stood on stage thanking guests for joining them for another banquet and proceeded with their usual program. 

The banquet was yet another success as it had been for the past few years. There were small awards and acknowledgments being made all evening. From praises for large sales, increasing income and openings of new locations for the family business, the banquet had gone exactly as planned. 

However Terry couldn’t help but sense Khloés tense energy. It didn’t help that she had become a bit fidgety. Fixing her hair every 10 minutes, wiping invisible lent from his jacket and plastering an artificial smile on her face each time she would interact with the other guests. 

It wasn’t necessarily Terry's place to ask her about her relationship with her parents but he was very curious. He tried his hardest to remind himself of why he was even there to begin with. 

‘I’m doing her a favor, she’s doing me a favor.’ 

“I’m gonna go catch up with a few people, you’ll be alright by yourself won’t you?” She asked. 

“I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine.” He replied, taking a sip of water. 

“Stop testing me Mr. Richmond.” She warned, referring to his smart comment. 

He smiled, placing his glass back on the table. 

Khloé got up and made her way around the room for a bit, grabbing glasses of champagne as they were being offered to her. She mingled with family and friends, sharing memories of the past and hopes of the future. After a few glasses, she was really feeling the effects of the alcohol. A sudden boost of confidence washed over her, bringing her right back to her normal self. 

Remembering she had the finest gentleman in the room as her date, she wanted to make sure she was attending to him. She looked over to their table, hoping his eyes were already on her. Her excitement quickly faded once she noticed who he was talking to. 

“Excuse me, I hope I’m not being too forward but you are so handsome.” A woman said, causing Terry to look her way. 

She was tall, slim and snatched like a supermodel. She was a pretty woman but her style clashed with her looks. She wore a royal blue dress, bright gold accessories and red lipstick. Almost similar to Khloés but not quite. 

“Thank you.” He smiled humbly. 

“I’m Imani, I’m Khloés older cousin.” She held out her hand, palm facing down as if she was waiting for him to kiss it. 

He stared at it for a few seconds and decided to shake it instead. 

“Nice to meet you Imani, I’m Terrance.”

Imani laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Respecting your girlfriend I see, but I understand. I’m sure if she found out I was talking to you she’d lose her shit. She’s been in a silent competition with me since we were kids but she’s my little cousin so I’m flattered.” 

Terry nodded, allowing the woman to speak freely simply because he wasn’t interested in speaking to her at all. There was just something about her energy that wasn’t sitting right with him but he didn’t want to be entirely rude to her. After all, he was a guest at her family’s event. 

“Oops, I should go, she’s staring. Don’t wanna get you in any trouble. Enjoy the night handsome.” She said flipping her ponytail off of her shoulder and twisting her hips as hard as she could hoping he was watching. 

But his eyes met Khloés from across the room. She didn’t necessarily look pissed but she didn’t look too happy either. The look on her face was stern almost as if he had done something he wasn’t supposed to. He quickly recalled the name of the person he was told not to mingle with. 

‘Nia.’ He thought to himself, shrugging because he was in the clear. 

He relaxed in his chair, sitting back and parting his legs from one another but she still hadn’t broken their gaze. It was as if they were communicating with one another without needing to say anything at all.

After a few moments, she smiled and made her way across the room to him.   

“Dance with me Mr. Richmond.” She stated, staring down at him through a tipsy gaze. 

Terry stood as she grabbed his hand and led them to the small dance floor. They joined a few other guests on the floor as well. Some were relatives of Khloés, others just friends of the family. 

Once they reached a secure spot, they embraced each other. Khloé wrapped her arms around his neck, silently thanking herself for wearing heels given his height. Terry’s hands snaked around her waist and they slowly swayed to the soft music. The longer they danced, the more Terry could feel Khloé slowly relaxing in his embrace. 

They rested their heads against the others, her forehead comfortable against this jaw. 

“Can I be honest with you?” Khloé asked.

“Of course.” 

“I didn’t tell you the full reason as to why I offered you the money to be my boyfriend.” She started. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“I mean yes I need you for events and to keep my family quiet but…” Her voice faded. 

“But?” 

She took a deep breath and told him all that he needed to know. 

“The truth is I want you in the worst way.”

She felt his jaw clench against her temple as she spoke.

“The moment I saw you, the things I began to see in my mind were so… vivid.” 

“What did you see?” He questioned, keeping his voice as low as possible. 

Khloés breath caught in her throat at his question. She thought her honesty would tear him from her. Her admitting that she was simply lusting after him should’ve bothered him but instead he leaned into it. 

“I imagined the view I’d have of you, from down on my knees. I imagined how much fun I would have edging you until you begged me to let you cum. I saw myself tying you to the bed and riding you for as long as I wanted.” 

Terry’s jaw clenched once more but he remained silent, still holding onto her waist.  

“You’d cum again and again and again.” The longer she spoke, the easier it was becoming to speak freely. 

She looked around the room to be sure no one was paying them any attention and she was right. They continued to sway back and forth to the soft music being played by the live band. She could feel his heartbeat increase as she held onto him. His breathing was steady but the rest of him was rising. 

“I felt bad at first because you seemed like a sweet and innocent guy. But in all honesty, I enjoy dominating men.” She admitted. “Not just any men but the ones who reek of dominance, men like you. The ones who walk around so unbothered, so unfazed. Always wearing a straight face because nothing can sway you. But I know you want to feel my lips around your dick. That’s why you get so stuck in a daze staring at them while I’m talking to you.” She spoke, her lips gently brushing against his neck.

Terry let out a deep breath but still remained silent. There was no need in denying any of what she was saying because all of it was true. 

“You know what I love the most about the male anatomy? It’s that no matter how much you try to hide it, no matter how still your expression is, I’ll always know how bad you want me.” She brought her hand to the back of his head and lowered it so her lips were level with his ear. 

“I can feel you through my dress.” She whispered. 

Terry tightened the hold he had on her waist, bringing her even closer to him. He was hoping that no one else would notice the “excitement” that she was feeling. Deep down, he wanted so desperately to drag her off the dance floor and find the nearest bathroom or utility closet, but he was at her command. He wouldn’t move until she gave the green light to do so. 

“Why are you so quiet Mr. Richmond, cat got your tongue?” She teased. 

“No ma’am, I just don’t have a lot to say right now. Only a couple of things I wanna do.” 

She giggled at his response. She had him exactly where she wanted him, craving her but unable to do anything about it. They were in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by dozens of people, there was no way he’d do anything to draw attention to the two of them. 

“I was looking forward to tasting you tonight but your behavior needs adjusting.”

Terry stood up straight, bringing his eyes to meet hers. 

“What’s wrong with my behavior?” He asked, his eyes shifting back and forth between hers. 

Before Khloé could respond, her mothers voice erupted through the speakers. Khloé turned to face the stage, pressing her back against his abdomen. She figured since she was the cause for his excitement the least she could do was help him conceal it. 

“Thank you all so much for another successful MacArthur banquet! Congratulations to all of the recipients of tonight’s awards.” Mrs. MacArthur spoke into the mic. “We love to see our family and friends grow in business, in love and in prosperity as the years go by.” 

Everyone applauded as she made her closing announcements. 

“Don’t forget to grab a goodie bag on the way out and please drive home safely. We will see you all next year, goodnight and God bless!” 

Khloé turned to grab her things from their table, she said her goodbyes to her family and made her way to the car. Terry was right behind her, replaying the night in his mind. He did just as he was told, interacting with little to no guests and speaking when spoken to. So what was she talking about?

“Do you have the ticket for valet?” Khloé asked him a bit nonchalantly. 

Terry dug into his pocket and handed the ticket to the man dressed in a red jacket. Within a few minutes their car was pulled to the front of the hall. Terry opened the door for her and then made his way to the driver's side. 

“What was wrong with my behavior tonight?” Terry asked, looking over at her. 

“Just drive please.” She spoke softly, not even bothering to look over at him. 

Terry took a deep breath before pulling away from the curb. They made their way back into the streets of downtown. The ride was silent once again. Terry was racking his brain trying to figure out what she was talking about but nothing was coming to the surface. Khloé sat quietly, not planning on telling him what he did wrong until they were back at her place. 

“You have reached your destination.” 

Terry unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car. A few seconds later, he opened Khloés door and waited for her to step out. He handed the keys to the valet and they made their way into the building. Khloé walked a few feet ahead of him, enjoying the feeling of having this grown man following behind her everywhere she went. 

Khloé pressed the button to call the elevator and stepped inside once the doors opened. Terry pressed the button marked ‘30’ and they sat silently for the majority of the ride up to her condo. 

“When we get upstairs, take off your jacket and dress shirt and wait for me in the living room.” Khloé instructed, keeping her eyes forward. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“30th floor” 

The two made their way down the long hall and entered her home. Terry did as he was asked and placed his clothes on the arm of the couch. He took a seat, only dressed in his undershirt and pants. While Khloé was off in her room, he took this time to respond to Summers' messages letting her know that he’d be by to explain everything to her. 

Khloé stepped into her bathroom to remove her dress. She wore a black panty and bra set underneath, already prepared for the night. She grabbed her black satin robe and slipped into it, not bothering to remove her heels. Taking one last look in the mirror to be sure she looked good, she made her way into the living room. 

“Stand when I enter the room.” She spoke, causing Terry’s head to snap up. 

He stood from the couch and eyed her from head to toe. Her body was heavent sent. Decorated in lace fabric, her skin slightly glistened from the mixture of body shimmer and the soft lighting in the room. His dick began growing in his pants again as she stood there staring at him. 

“Come.” She said, pointing her finger to a spot directly in front of her. 

Terry walked around the small coffee table, slowly approaching her until the top of their shoes were almost touching. She loved that he towered over her even in her heels. As intimidating as he could be at times, she enjoyed the fact that she was the one truly in charge.  

“Before I start, you do get a say in this, I’m not a completely inconsiderate bitch.” She started. “If you don’t want to do this just say so and I’ll call it off.” 

“Did you hear me say that?” He asked. There was that smart ass mouth again. 

Khloé smirked at his question. “I need your consent Mr. Richmond.” 

“You have my consent Ms. MacArthur.” He stared down at her with a sly grin on his face. 

“You’re familiar with these right?” Khloé held up a pair of handcuffs, loosely dangling off of her fingers. 

Terry let out a light chuckle, still keeping his eyes on hers. 

“Turn around.” She instructed. 

Terry did as he was told. 

This was the first time she was seeing him nearly undressed, up close like this. Her eyes roamed from his freshly cut hair, down to the back of his neck and landed on his broad shoulders. She licked her lips as her eyes continued down the length of his toned arms, and finally landed on his ass. She held her breath as she tried to restrain herself from saying “fuck it” and pouncing on him. 

“You gone spank me for being a bad boy?” He joked sarcastically, bringing her back to the present. 

“You’re not funny. Besides I don’t like to cause pain, at least not in that way.” She answered, placing the cuffs around his wrists and clicking them closed. She grabbed his arm and walked him to the end of the sofa. She turned him round until he faced her and took a few steps back. 

They stared at each other for a while. There was no need to speak because the amount of hunger in the room from both parties spoke volumes. Terry stood tall, hands behind his back, eyes low and rested on hers. The wifebeater he wore almost clung to him the way his toned body filled the thin fabric. Terry waited patiently for her next command, his expression remaining as calm as ever. 

The only sound in the room was their breathing. Khloé stood there secretly hoping that this would be her last partner or simply one that could last her a very long time. She doubted that she’d ever come across someone else who was crafted as perfectly as he was. His body, his voice, his eyes, his whole damn face and especially those damn lips. She only hoped that his skills in bed matched his looks. 

“On your knees.” 

to be continued… 

[animasola86]

🦇 FANGS TO REMEMBER

m!vampires x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 3.6k

On your way back to the party, you come across a graveyard. Unbeknownst to you, you are trespassing onto someone's property, and they are not happy about it. Or are they?

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Vampires! Noncon/dubcon! Threesome! Spitroasting! Biting! (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: This is part of my CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE smut series! 1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 This is the continuation of OPTION 3/PART 4 - but can be read individually, let me just set the scene:

CONTEXT: You were invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, and after drinking a strange drink, you decide to get some fresh air, running into a werewolf who instantly decides to knot and breed you, and after that ordeal is done, you flee from him, and come across a graveyard...

ADDITIONAL WARNING: This one is very dark. It's more noncon than dubcon, so if you don't like the themes, you can skip it and wait for the last part (out on Nov 8th).

You look around, but there's only one way forward: through the graveyard. It's too dark to see anything else, no maze, no garden, no house, you can't even see the cabin anymore you just left. The night is eerily quiet, no critters, nothing. Even the wind seems to take a break for now.

Inhaling deeply, you hug your arms around your body and take a step through the large wrought-iron gates, looking left and right at the rows of crooked tomb stones. A strange mist wafts close to the ground, giving off an otherworldly glow. The moon is long gone it seems, the sky too cloudy to show any stars, but still you can see the various shapes around you.

You're not easily spooked, usually, but being alone in a cemetery at night makes your imagination run wild, wilder than it has been all evening. The slightest movement makes you flinch as you tread carefully along the path, goosebumps rippling over your exposed skin whenever something brushes against your bare legs. The shirt is soft and warm, but in the end not long enough after all, no matter how hard you tug at its hem.

A sudden shuffling sound makes your blood run cold and you freeze on the spot, your heart beating out of your chest, cold fear gripping your limbs. It came from behind one of the larger tomb stones, decorated with a small angel statue. You stare into the darkness, pressing your lips together to keep the noises from spilling past them. Probably just an animal. Your mind is surely playing tricks on you.

But when the same sound comes from right behind you, you whirl around with a shriek, stumbling back as you see a large black shadow blocking your view. You expect to fall onto your butt, but something keeps you from it, another shadow – and this one has hands. Hands that grip your arms, holding you tightly. Another scream rips from your throat as you thrash about, trying to get away, before another hand finds its way to your mouth, muffling all the noises you want to let out.

Your eyes are wide when the shadows around you form into the shapes of two big men, pale in the eerie light, tall and muscular, dressed surprisingly well for creatures that lurk in the dark.

“What do we have here?” the one with his hand on your mouth says, tilting his head, giving you a smile that makes his handsome face look almost diabolical. “A little rabbit? In our cemetery?”

“Did you get lost, little one?” the other man, the one behind you, whispers as he leans his head closer, rubbing his smooth cheek against yours. It's cold to the touch.

You stiffen, unable to do or say anything. Maybe you're still dreaming, or again. But the way these men grab you feels too real. They are strong. Intimidatingly so. You swallow hard, gasping when the one behind you gives you a deep sniff.

“Ugh, she reeks of dog,” he says with a drawl. “Had some fun with the beast, didn't you?”

Suddenly you feel a hand between your legs, a cold touch, coaxing a muffled yelp out of you as you feel probing fingers right against your warm crotch. “Huh, yeah, he got to her alright. Filled to the brim...” He pulls his fingers away and raises them to your face, and you can see the thick substance coating them. “Too bad, really, I was looking forward to ravaging that sweet cunt...”

You glare at him, both in shock and indignation. He pulls his hand from your mouth and shoves his soiled fingers between your lips. A muffled grunt of protest slips from your throat, but your attempts to get away are futile as the other man still holds your arms tightly. A bitter and slightly salty taste fills your mouth, but with how the man presses his digits onto your tongue you can't do anything but flick it around them, licking them clean.

“At least she seems quite obedient,” he muses with a menacing tone, watching you closely, moving his fingers in and out of your mouth.

“We can still have some fun with her,” the man behind you says quietly, his nose nuzzling your neck. “He hasn't marked her yet. She's fair game.”

“Splendid,” the other replies with a laugh and pulls his fingers away with a wet popping sound. You quickly swallow the spit gathered on your tongue and lick your quivering lips. “So, little bunny, do you wanna try to run? I would die for a little hunt... if I wasn't already dead,” he adds with a reverberating laugh that makes you shiver deeply.

You just stare at him, your chest rising and falling faster. “I don't think she'll come far,” the man rubbing his hands over your arms retorts. “She seems weakened. The beast clearly got her good. Let's just enjoy her until her heart gives out, hm?”

You gasp at the implication, immediately silenced by a hand reaching out to grab your chin. “Fine. It is already enough to hear this beautiful beat,” the man in front of you whispers as he leans closer. “Are you scared, rabbit?”

Your eyes dart over his pale face, and when he bares his teeth and licks them slowly, you stare at his pointy canines. After having just met a real werewolf (or so you think, it's all so fuzzy in your head right now), you shouldn't be surprised to meet actual vampires, in a graveyard no less, pale and cold and strong, with sharp fangs and insatiable appetites, but your body still reacts as if you were indeed just a bunny cornered by two predators. A tiny whimper escapes your throat. “Please...”

“Hmm? Please what? Use your words, darling!” the man behind you snarls, rubbing his nose against your neck before you feel his lips on your pulse, nibbling teasingly.

“Please let me go...” you press out.

“Not going to happen, sweetheart,” he replies, his low voice muffled. “You came to us. Walked right onto our property. It's our right to do with you whatever we like...”

You squirm in his hold when he laps his tongue up your neck. The other man watches you, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip before he suddenly leans closer, pressing his forehead to yours. You gasp, staring at him. “You won't regret it, little one,” he breathes against you. His skin feels cold, but the close proximity makes your cheeks burn up badly. “We'll give you a good time, don't worry your pretty little head!”

And suddenly you are being lifted, nausea rolling over you as you find yourself somehow floating in the air. It's all a blur at this point. Footsteps crunch over gravel and dead leaves, thump against stone plates, old hinges screech as a door is being opened. The fresh air becomes stale and dusty, the light even darker. You move down a set of stairs, but you can't move, your head is swimming, your insides tensing up in a way that borders on painful. You can barely breathe, and you have no idea why.

Candle light flickers to life when the men take you through a large wooden door. Your eyes blink into focus slowly. You seem to be in some sort of mausoleum, old looking, corners full of cobwebs, aged statues lining the walls. In the middle of the round room, there are two stone coffins, both of them open, their heavy stone slabs pushed to the side. You swallow hard, trying to see this as a scene, a decorated room fit for an elaborate Halloween party.

But somehow you doubt this is part of it.

“Excuse the mess,” one of the men says as he walks to the coffins. “We didn't expect company tonight...”

He raises a hand – and as you're being set down on your feet again, you witness how the heavy slab moves seemingly on its own or by a strange unseen force, leaving you even more confused. Both coffins are closed now, and before you can question anything else, you are being draped over the short side of one of them, stomach pressed to the cold stone, arms and legs hanging off the edges. A groan escapes you.

“Let's clean her up first, I can't stand the stink of wolf,” one man says as he steps behind you, pushing your legs further apart. You feel a strange coldness rushing through your body, like water, but not really wet, a sensation that leaves you choking on your own spit. “There, better. Don't you feel better too, darling? No longer stuffed full of disgusting beast semen? Well, I don't want to kink shame or anything, maybe you are into being bred, but we do like our holes squeaky clean – for us to soil all over again.”

You squirm on the stone slab, your hands trying to find purchase on the smooth surface, your legs kicking helplessly, but before you can do anything, the other man steps in front of you, grabbing your chin and lifting your head up. You find yourself face-to-face with his throbbing cock. They don't seem to waste any time, huh? He presses his thumb and finger into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You issue a groan of protest that is quickly muffled by his surprisingly warm member. You have no choice but to close your lips around it. (Even if you wanted to bite down on him, you couldn't, his hand is still holding your jaw open.)

“Good bunny, you know what to do, hm?” he tells you, slowly rolling his hips against you, his tip scraping along your gums, teasing at the back of your throat. Saliva pools on your tongue, and you feel the need to swallow it before it drips past your lips. When you do, he groans quietly. “Oh, yes, like that. Do that again.” Somehow his words seem to encourage you, and you swallow around him once more, straining your throat enough for tears to fill your eyes.

Behind you, you feel two cold hands rubbing up and down your thighs, gripping them, pulling them apart, before they slip up your rear and push the large shirt out of the way. “So I assume after your little werewolf ordeal, your poor little cunt is a little tired, wouldn't you agree?” he rasps teasingly. “Good thing you have another hole, huh, my sweet?”

You let out a series of muffled cries around the cock in your mouth when you feel probing fingers between your ass cheeks. “Mhmmnngh!” you croak out, thrashing on the stone slab, trying to get away. A sudden slap on your soft rear makes you howl, but ultimately stops your fidgeting. Your skin burns and throbs horribly. “Shh, relax, rabbit. You can take it. See?”

Before you can react, you feel a strange pressure against your sphincter, a teasing touch but unrelenting, and suddenly you have a finger in your ass. Your tight muscles clench around the thick digit, and you wriggle in your compromised position, almost gagging yourself on the dick between your lips when you push yourself against the man's groin and his cock deeper into your mouth. A jerk goes through your body, your hands fruitlessly trying to hold onto anything.

You don't feel in control of your limbs anymore, it's strange. You can feel everything, but you can't move, only rock back and forth on the coffin. The man behind you pushes his finger deeper, then pulls it out and replaces it with two. The stretch hurts, and you let out a muffled wail. Your noises seem to encourage him when he moves them in and out faster, deeper, a hard press against your protesting muscles.

Meanwhile the man holding your jaw increases the pace of his hips slamming against your face. His cock pushes deep, and you gag violently when he breaches your throat, your body convulsing, spit filling your mouth. He pulls back slightly, allows you to breathe and cough and swallow, but then repeats the motion, and you gag again, and the cycle continues. Your head is spinning by the fifth time he forced his length down your throat, and you feel too weak to protest anymore.

Not even when you notice that the man playing with your ass has added another finger and is plunging his hand hard against your rear, a dizzying rhythm, forceful, stretching you for whatever comes next. You can guess and it scares you. But there's nothing you can do as he suddenly pulls his fingers out with a wet pop and you feel his cockhead pressing against your slightly gaping hole. A deep grunt escapes him when he rocks his pelvis forward, sinking into your depths without mercy, carving his way through your impossible tightness.

Your muffled scream is overpowered by loud gurgling noises as the cock in your mouth pistons in and out fast, always pushing deep, bulging your neck, his crotch slapping into your face with each thrust. You are pushed and pulled, rocked back and forth, impaled front and back, cold hands holding your head up or digging into your hips as the two men use you for their pleasure, their grunts filling the space around you.

Despite their rough handling, you feel a strange heat growing inside you, and you realize that with every slam into your ass or snap into your throat, you are rubbed over the rough stone, and your clit quickly feels raw and swollen from the added stimulation. Moaning into the rapidly moving cock in your mouth, you focus on the good feelings, not the burning friction in your rear, not the rawness of your throat, the lack of air or the helplessness, just the bliss that tries to fight through the pain and discomfort.

But before you can even imagine any edge to fall over, they suddenly slow down, languid strokes that push deep until they stop altogether, one cock buried deep in your ass, the other pushed all the way down your throat as pubic hair tickles your nostrils. Your eyes roll back, your lungs burn, your body spasms fruitlessly. Groans echo in your ear.

“Let's turn her around,” one says.

“You wanna switch places too?” the other replies, almost a little breathlessly.

“Sure, I bet she doesn't mind a little ass to mouth action, huh, sugar?”

A loud slap against your bruised rear makes you gag violently, and as spit fills your mouth and tears stream down your face, you are being rotated on the cold stone slab, arms still hanging limply to the ground while your legs twitch as they're being pushed up and against your heaving chest, opening you up further. Cold air brushes over your exposed skin, and for a short moment they let go of you, cocks pull back, leaving trails of stickiness all over your face and crotch.

You are lightheaded, barely able to function, and that moment of reprieve is short-lived. You didn't even get the chance to swallow or breathe properly before a cock is being shoved back into your mouth. Hands curl around the back of your head, holding it up as the stiff and slimy length is pushed straight into your bruised throat. You can only croak out a muffled grunt before a heavy pair of balls slam against your nose.

“Tongue out,” the man above you orders, and you comply, hoping it'll be easier with your mouth wide open and your tongue extended to guide the throbbing cock in and out. “Good. Just like that. Look at that neck bulging. Ugh,” he continues, groaning as he rams deep into your throat and rests there, cutting off any air flow you may have had earlier. You squirm on the coffin, limbs twitching helplessly.

Before you drift off into unconsciousness, he pulls back and slaps your cheek. The pain drags you back immediately. “No fainting, rabbit, we need you awake for this.” You cough hoarsely, spit and precum flying through the air. You're too weak to open your eyes, and it doesn't matter anyway. His hand is on your neck now, squeezing slightly. “Ahh, yes, listen to that frantic heartbeat,” he rasps, slowly slipping his cock back between your lips. “Are you afraid to choke, hm? Or does that turn you on?”

You gag when he presses into your throat slowly, your whole body jerking against the man on the other side, who's holding your legs open and pressed to your chest. You are allowed to cough and swallow before it happens all over again, again and again, and while one man fucks your throat with reckless abandon, the other rubs his cold hand down your mound, teasing at your swollen clit, parting your puffy labia, but then he dips his finger into your ass, completely ignoring your hungrily clenching cunt.

There's no further preparation, and a moment later he shoves his cock into your tight hole, making you wail against the dick in your throat. He lets go of your legs, causing them to flop about wildly with each thrust as he starts pounding into you hard and fast, then you feel his long fingers on your burrowed shirt. You barely register how it's ripped open, but you do feel those cold palms pressing onto your soft mounds, pebbling your skin, your nipples hardening instantly. The touch is almost soothing among all the other things happening to you.

It's a whirlwind of sensations, the lack of air and strain to your throat and jaw on one side, the rough friction and burning heat and hard pummeling on the other. You are moved back and forth on the stone surface, a limp body to be used. You don't know how long this is going on, but these guys seem to have incredible stamina. They just won't stop.

Whenever you feel as if you're slipping into the welcoming darkness, you are slapped and brought back, your cheeks burning and throbbing, but it's only one of many aches by now. You can't decide which is worse, the suffocating stretch when a cock buries deep into your throat, or the rough pummeling of sore muscles when the other cock rams into your tight ass. It's all a blur in the end.

The men are groaning and grunting, snapping their hips against you, uncaring of your discomforts. They're chasing their own orgasms while you remain teetering far away from any sort of release. The room is filled with loud squelching noises, gurgles and slurps, slapping of skin against skin, a soundscape that seems to be your only form of stimulation. Not even the cold hands on your breasts push you further to the edge, they are just there, holding you, groping hard, anchoring you as you are pushed back and forth.

At least they have a rhythm now, in and out in an alternating way, almost like a seesaw, in goes the one in your throat, out moves the one in your ass, and then it's the other way around. And somehow you find comfort in it as you lie there, held in place, unable to move, your eyelids fluttering, tears and snot drying on your sweat-slick skin.

It's then that you feel cold fingers brushing down your quivering belly, down, down, until they rub against your clit, and you arch your back, inhale that cock in your throat, jerk your hips against the one pounding into your ass, and you come, clenching down hard, stiffening, eyes rolling back, bliss exploding through the veils of darkness.

You feel like floating, leaning into the wave of pleasure that washes over you as you let it all happen. And as you do, the men's motions grow jerkier, rougher, faster, and they come too, almost at the same time. Cum shoots down your throat, and you'd expect to feel the same sensation in your ass, but the man there pulls out and empties himself all over your mound and stomach, all the way to your neck. The pressure in your throat loosens then, and similar spurts of wet warmth hit your face.

Raspy breaths make it past your soiled, swollen lips as you lie there with your eyes closed. Strong hands move you until you're lying fully on your back, legs outstretched, arms put at the sides of your body, head supported by the hard stone slab beneath you. Cold fingers trail your skin.

“I wish we could keep her,” you hear a quiet voice that barely makes it past the cotton in your head.

“I'm not risking another war with those savages just because of one puny human...” says a different voice. “We'll find another one.”

“Let's feed and get her back onto the path.”

You blink your eyes open, noticing the two men, the two vampires, standing over you, staring down at you from both sides of the coffin. Their teeth are bared, fangs glistening in the swaying candle light, and before you can do anything, they lean down, one goes straight for your neck, his pointy canines sinking deeply into your skin, and you feel it, despite your fucked-out state, you feel the cold crashing through your veins.

The same sensation happens between your legs, on one of your inner thighs as the other bites down into your soft flesh. You whimper soundlessly, throat hoarse and sore, body too weak to move against the assault. They suck your blood noisily, like the thirsty monsters they are, and you just let it happen, again, what other choice do you have? Your head is spinning as you feel the cold spread through your trembling limbs.

And the world fades...

1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6

End notes: If you're reading the Smut Series in succession, there will be one more final chapter after this, the aftermath/aftercare episode if you will. Stay tuned!

By the way, this is a nod towards my standalone Vampire oneshot Down the Rabbit Hole which also has dubcon elements and more than one vampire, but isn't as dark.

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

[fakeboymuttt]

I made a gofundme for my top surgery. All of my friends, especially my trans friends, donate a lot, very quickly. I hit my goal in no time, and we plan a party a few months out for after I recover to celebrate. Just a few days before my surgery is scheduled, though, I get a call from insurance that they are no longer covering the surgery. It's significantly more expensive than I planned for, and the money isn't enough to cover it. I'm heartbroken and dysphoric, and I decide to keep the party date so my friends can come support me and cheer me up. When it comes around, it starts out a great night. We have dinner, and wine. We all sit around joking and laughing, with more wine. I'm more than a little tipsy when I move to a group of my trans friends sitting in the living room. I try to sit down next to one of them, but as I sit, their hands pull me into their lap. I don't have time to ask what's happening before their hands move to my chest, groping me over my binder. "What the fuck? Stop!" I yell out. She covers my mouth with one hand and roughly gropes me with the other, hard enough I think she might leave bruises in the shape of her fingers. "We've been talking.. and I think you fucking owe us. " She forces her hand under my binder. "I mean, I donated 300 fucking dollars to that, and what, now you're keeping them? At least they should go to some good use." I shake my head with tears in my eyes, trying to explain with her hand still muffling me. I can't say anything but begs and pleas to stop while she pulls and twists on my nipples and gropes my tits. "What do you guys think?" She asks to my friends gathered and watching. All of them nod and murmur in agreement. She hikes my shirt and my binder up over my chest and over my head to cover my face, exposing my tits to the open air. Another person nearby on the couch starts to grope my other breast, and I hear some people starting to shuffle in from the other room. My friend holding me in her lap shifts, and I can suffenly feel her bulge against my ass. She spreads my legs apart roughly and starts to unbutton my pants. I'm helpless to stop her as more hands descend upon my body, groping, pinching, grabbing, slapping. My pants are dragged down to below my ass, just enough to give her access to my cunt. "I think, if you keep them, you should at least use them once, you know, the way they're meant to be used" She dips two fingers into my pussy roughly and circles my tdick with my wetness. "We all thought you'd be a cute mom". She pulls her cock out of her pants and lets it rest against my stomach. I feel the tip, all the way at my belly button, already leaking precum. She picks me up and sits me back down on it, impaling me on it. Slowly, sinkingly, achingly, every inch of it fills me. She rubs my clit as all of my so called friends slap and grip my whole body. My pussy aches and burns, all of my skin feels raw at this point, and then she starts to thrust up into me. Roughly, with her hands holding my hips down in place so her head is painfully prodding at my cervix. She pushes me down on her whole length one last time when it throbs, and I feel it fill my cunt with her cum. And then, she stops moving. Impaled on her cock, I wait helpless while my sore tits are grabbed and my tdick is lazily flicked around, while she plugs her own cum deep inside me. A few minutes pass before she looks around at my full party and asks "Anyone else want her?"

[harrywavycurly]

Guest Reader: A Southern Comfort Extra

Masterlist: Here

TW: None

Tag List: @wedontknowherorhimorthem @blckburd @daphnesutton @fangirl509east @styleswithaseaview @stylesfever @youngpastafanmug @hannah9921

A/N: Harry is a guest reader for your preschool class and he gets to see a side of you that he’s never seen before, enjoy pure fluff and some nervous Harry✨

Harry wants to laugh at himself for how he’s currently pacing the hallway in front of your room and fidgeting with the rings on his fingers. He has performed for thousands of people screaming his name and while it’s made him have some jitters and nerves it’s nothing compared to the nervousness he’s feeling right now knowing any minute he’ll be asked to enter your classroom and read in front of nearly thirty little kids. He’s simply reading a book to a group of four year olds, that’s what he keeps trying to tell himself but he knows it’s different because this isn’t just some classroom he’ll be walking into, it’s yours. He wants to make a good impression and not embarrass himself because honestly most of his relationship with you has been little moments of Harry embarrassing himself and he’d at least like for this moment to go smoothly.

“Mr. Styles?” Harry turns around at the sound of your assistant teacher, Heather calling his name. “We are almost ready for you.” The smile she gives him makes him sort of begin to relax but he knows nothing will really do the trick until he sees you. He just nods and takes a step towards the door and it’s as if she can sense his nerves as he takes a little look through the small window on the door, trying to see if he can catch a glimpse of you. “She’s getting them situated on the carpet right now but if you’d like you can go in but just stand to the side until she introduces you.” Harry looks unsure as Heather just quietly opens the door for him, she gives him a reassuring nod before he takes a step inside making her smile as she follows behind him making sure the door doesn’t make any noise as it closes.

“Okay friends I need y’all to make sure those listening ears are on.” Harry feels himself instantly relax as soon as he hears your voice, he notices the tone you use with the kids is similar to the one you use with him when you’re teaching him something new in the kitchen or about a southern thing he has no clue about. “Tyler are yours on? Let’s double check.” You say with a smile at the little boy sitting right in front of you on the carpet, he reaches up and tugs on his ears and then nods making you grin. “Perfect okay-oh now Hannah honey are your ears on? They are? Well good thing all my friends have their listening ears on because guess what time it is.” Harry smiles as the kids all shout “story time” at you at various times making you laugh causing your leaf shaped earrings to sway a bit as they dangle from your ears.

Harry takes a moment to look around your classroom because the last time he was in it the walls were empty and it only had a desk and some chairs. He can’t help but feel a sense of calm begin to wash over him as he notices all the little touches that are just so you, like the cowboy hats that say all the different colors by the giant white board, the list of classroom rules but the word rules is crossed out and replaced with the word manners by the door that’s written in your beautiful handwriting, but the biggest thing is just how bright and colorful everything is because he knows how much you hate passing up an opportunity to use bright and fun colors so of course your classroom would be no different. When he’s done looking over your classroom he glances back over to the carpet so he can get a better look at you, as if he didn’t sit on the edge of the bed and watch you get ready for work this morning.

He just can’t get over how adorable you look as you stand in the middle of the kids in your flowy skirt, opting for one that reminded you of falling leaves so you’d be sticking with the month’s theme of “falling into autumn” with its random splatters of brown orange and yellow, that has your t shirt with the school’s name tucked into it while your hair is in a high pony allowing your earrings to be seen. He can tell by the way the kids look at you with little grins on their faces that they also adore you, that you’re probably one of their favorite people and Harry knows it’s true because of all the little pieces of art work you come home with each day, it’s a constant rotation on who’s work gets a spot on the fridge.

He’s glad he’s getting to see you in your element like this, because it’s obvious to him as he watches you lean down and help a little girl with her shoe that you love what you do. It makes him wish he could come and watch you work everyday but he knows you’d never allow it even if he did offer to read to the kids or help you grade their little worksheets. He feels his cheeks get warm when you look over and catch him staring at you, not that it’s anything you’re not already used to but still Harry always turns into a blushing mess when you catch him blatantly staring. You give him a warm smile that he returns as you clap your hands three times instantly making the kids clap three times right back.

“Very good.” You praise the group of kids making them look at you with excited smiles. “Now today we have a very special guest for story time so I’m gonna need y’all to say hello to my friend Mr. Styles.” You look over at Harry and motion for him to come over to where you’re standing in front of the kids on the carpet.

“Hi Mr. Styles!” Harry smiles as the class shouts hello at him while he stands next to you and it takes everything in him not to wrap an arm around you or at least grab your hand.

“Hello everyone.” He greets the kids with a wave and you just smile as you place a hand on his arm as you take a step so you’re slightly behind him.

“Go on sugar tell them a little about yourself.” You whisper so only he can hear as you give his arm a little squeeze.

“Uh I’m Mr. Styles but you can call me Harry.” You bite your bottom lip so your giggle can’t escape as Harry tries to fight his nerves as he looks at the group of kids sitting patiently in front of him with big eyes and sweet smiles. “I am a musician and uhm I play a few instruments and sing but I also am in a band called uh One Direction-”

“My mommy loves you.” Harry just laughs and nods at the sudden outburst from a little girl while you take a step so you are once again standing next to him.

“Gracie honey we don’t interrupt when someone’s talking okay? Save your comments till the end when he’s done reading.” You gently correct the little red headed girl sitting in the back row who has her hand raised but just didn’t wait to be called on before she blurted out what she wanted to say.

“Well Gracie tell your mommy I said hello will you? But uh yeah I am very excited to be reading to you today.” Harry turns his head to look at you as if to ask if that’s enough or if he needs to tell these kids anything else about himself but you just smile and turn around to grab the book he would be reading.

“And we are very excited to have you read to us today because the book the class has picked for you to read is Have You Seen my Acorn?” The kids let out mumbled sounds of excitement as you hand the book to Harry before turning and getting the chair for him to sit in. “Now y’all be sure to listen up nice and good to this story because it’s one of my favorites okay?” You tell the class as you place the chair behind Harry who is giving the book a once over and you can see his nerves begin to get the best of him.

“You’ll be fine honey.” You whisper to him as you place a hand on his shoulder so he’ll turn his head to look at you so you can motion for him to sit down in the chair. Harry lets out a deep breath as you look at him with a grin, he gives you a slight nod letting you know he’s ready. You quickly walk off to the side and stand with Heather who has a smile on her face as she watches Harry begin reading the book to the class.

“Who knew four year olds could cause more nerves than a stadium of fans?” She whispers to you making you shrug as you watch Harry finally begin to relax and get comfortable as he turns to the third page of the book.

“Ain’t he cute all nervous though?” You ask with a giggle making Harry’s eyes shoot over to you briefly causing you to just give him a playful wink before he goes back to looking at the page he’s reading from. “I just love him.” You add with a smile as Heather looks at you as you watch your boyfriend read to your class and she can tell in that moment that the two of you have something special because out of all the guest readers you’ve had none of them have ever been as nervous as Harry.

[lvmoure]

Jump Then Fall CS55

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x childhoodbff!reader

Summary: In which you loved him the moment you turned 7 years old. In which she fell first but he fell harder.

Warnings: none, pure fluff

Part 2 Part 3

You were only seven when it hit you for the first time: a fluttery feeling, soft and strange, but warm like a summer breeze. The source of this unexpected feeling was none other than Carlos Sainz, your best friend since you could remember. He was the boy who sat next to you in class, the one who chased you around the playground, and the one who always let you have the last cookie at lunch.

It was a sunny afternoon, the kind where the sunlight spilled across the playground in warm, lazy beams, illuminating everything in a golden hue. You and Carlos were at your favorite spot by the swings, taking turns seeing who could go the highest. Carlos grinned at you, his cheeks flushed from the thrill of the game, his laughter bright and unrestrained. You felt your heart race, pounding in a way that seemed strange and exciting all at once.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Carlos called out, waving his hand in front of your face. He was laughing, his eyes squinting with joy as the wind tossed his dark hair in every direction.

You snapped out of your thoughts, cheeks heating up as you stammered, "Of course I am! You were saying… uh, something about soccer?"

Carlos groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. "I was talking about how we should form a team, and I was going to ask you to be my teammate. But now I'm not so sure, since you're off in dreamland!"

You felt your face warm even more, but you managed to laugh. "Fine, I'll be your teammate, but only if you promise to pass the ball sometimes!"

He laughed, pretending to consider your terms. "Deal," he said, reaching out his pinky. You linked yours with his, feeling a spark—a small, inexplicable jolt that made you freeze for just a second. But Carlos didn't seem to notice; he was already excitedly planning your imaginary soccer team's strategy.

As the two of you chattered away, you realized how much you loved moments like this. Little did you know, these small, simple moments would be the foundation of a love that would grow with you, one that would shape your every feeling for years to come.

Years passed, and the innocent feelings you had as a child grew complicated, layered with insecurities and fear of change. By the time you reached high school, Carlos was no longer just "that boy next to you." He had grown into someone everyone noticed, with his easy charm, his passion for sports, and the same unfiltered laugh that always made you feel like the only person in the room. It wasn't just the small things that made you realize you were in love with him; it was everything about him, the way he treated people, the way he never held back.

You watched him from across the cafeteria, trying not to be obvious. Carlos was surrounded by his friends, laughing and animated, and you could see why everyone liked him so much. But you kept your feelings locked away, never daring to say a word. You were terrified of what would happen if he knew—terrified of losing him, of the awkwardness that might come with a confession.

"Are you staring at Carlos again?" your friend teased, nudging you playfully.

You jolted, quickly looking down at your food, cheeks flaming. "No, I was… I was just lost in thought."

"Yeah, sure," she said with a smirk. "You've got it bad, and you know it."

You groaned, hiding your face. "I can’t tell him. It’d ruin everything."

"He’d probably be flattered," she said gently. "But I get it. Some things are scarier when it comes to best friends."

A part of you wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, he might feel the same way. But you couldn't risk it. So you kept quiet, holding your feelings close and letting them simmer in silence. There were moments when he looked at you, really looked, and you'd find yourself wondering if he could see the way you felt. But every time, he'd just flash you a grin or make a joke, and you’d brush it off, convincing yourself that he couldn’t possibly feel the same.

You told yourself that being close to him as his friend was enough, even if it hurt sometimes to keep the truth hidden.

The day he introduced his girlfriend to you, it felt like the world was crashing down around you. You plastered on a smile, trying to ignore the way your heart seemed to shatter into a million pieces.

"Hey, this is Isabela," Carlos said with a bright smile, his arm slung casually around her shoulders. "Isn't she amazing?"

You forced a laugh, pushing down the wave of jealousy and sadness that threatened to spill out. "Yeah, she seems great," you managed, feeling like every word you spoke was a lie.

Isabela was everything you weren’t—confident, beautiful, and effortlessly charming. She seemed to know Carlos in ways that you didn’t, ways that you wished you could. You watched them together, the way he looked at her, and it tore you apart. But you stayed by his side, putting on a brave face and pretending that you were fine.

"Are you okay?" Carlos asked one day, noticing the sadness in your eyes.

You forced a smile. "Of course, I’m just tired."

He gave you a long, searching look, as if he could see through your mask. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

But you couldn’t tell him this, not now. So you just nodded, hoping he’d never find out how deeply you were hurting.

Years passed, and one day, Carlos showed up at your door, his face pale and eyes rimmed red. Before he could even speak, you wrapped him in a hug, sensing the heartbreak he was carrying. Isabella had broken up with him, and he was devastated.

"I thought we had something real," he said, his voice breaking. "But she said she couldn’t handle it."

You held him close, soothing him with gentle words, even as your heart ached at the sight of his pain. Part of you felt relief—relief that he was no longer with her, that there might be a chance for you. But mostly, you just wanted to be there for him, to be the shoulder he could lean on.

"I’m here for you," you whispered, your hand running comfortingly over his back. "You’re going to get through this, Carlos. I promise."

He looked at you then, and for a moment, something seemed to shift in his gaze. But he was hurting too much to notice it, and you were too afraid to hope.

Months after the breakup, Carlos found himself looking at you in a way he hadn’t before. It was small things—like the way you laughed at his jokes, the way you always knew when he needed comfort, or the way you were just there, unwavering in your support. He began to realize that maybe, all this time, the person he was looking for had been right beside him.

He wanted to tell you. Wanted to confess that he felt something he couldn’t quite explain, something warm and soft that made his heart beat a little faster. But he held back, afraid that maybe he’d missed his chance, that his feelings would only complicate things.

For now, he decided, he’d admire you from afar, letting his feelings settle and hoping that one day, he’d find the courage to tell you.

Because love, he realized, was worth waiting for.

[beef-brisket]

Charlie and Lucifer talked, chatting about what to say and how to handle the angels. Adam stood back, tense. He doesn't know ow what's going to happen, who he's going to see.

There was a flash of light, and Charlie and Lucifer gasped.

Charlie: M-Mom...?

Lucifer: Lilith...

Lucifer gripped his wedding ring, and he saw that Lilith was wearing hers. He felt his heart fluttee as she smiled at them both. Quickly opening her arms as Charlie ran to her, she smiled down at Lucifer and held his land.

Adam didn't move, even when her eyes fell to him.

Lilith: I'll catch up with you two soon, yes? I have some business with Adam to discuss.

Her voice got harsh when she mentioned Adam. Charlie was confused as to why she'd want to see him, but she didn't complain as the two walked into another meeting room.

Charlie: ...Dad?

Lucifer: On it, sweetie.

Lucifer spawned a clone, and it shape shifted into a snake. It quickly followed the two, hiding itself quickly.

Lucifer: Alright. Are you ready?

Charlie: Yes, dad. I'm ready.

Lilith: Have a seat.

Adam did as he was told, his eyes never leaving Lilith.

Lilith: So! I heard from a little one armed birdie that extermination didn't go too well? My poor, sweet ex-husband fell to an angelic blade. Poor darling. Just when we were starting to fix our relationship!

Lilith sat down across from Adam. She had that damn smile on her face, Adam learnt a long time ago it was best not to get Lilith get to him. All she's after is a reaction.

Lilith: Now, I'm here to make some additions to our deal~. And don't worry, they will benefit both of us!

Adam: And what additions are those?

Lilith: As much as I love my daughter, I can't let this whole hotel thing go ahead. I have a deal with Heaven, you see? And in wake of my poor ex-husband's death, I am to prevent anymore "redeemed" souls to enter Heaven.

Adam: ...wait, anymore? What do you mean?

Lilith: Oh, I suppose I should tell you, seeing a you won't find out with my darling Lucifer and my sweet Charlotte. A sould from Hell has arrived in Heaven. A snake, I believe.

Adam: Sir Pentious?

Lilith: Yes, that sounds like him! Well, if you know of him, then the rumors are true. He was a sinner. How interesting. But, unfortunately, you need to put a stop to this whole redemption business!

Adam: Me? I... that'll be going against Lucifer-

Lilith: Who?

Adam: -T-The king. What could I even do-?

Lilith: I'm so glad you asked! First, you are to pull your "workers" out of there. Then, get rid of that pornstar, I don't care if you have to get that damn moth to finally enforce his will. Just get rid of him.

Adam: I... no. No, I can't... I won't, they mean too much-

Lilith: To you? Oh, please, Adam. If they knew who you really were, they'd throw you to the streets quicker than you could snap your fingers. And you wouldn't want to lose your power, would you? I'm sure there's a lot of sinner that soukd love to get their hands on you, again~.

Adam cringed, thinking about those early days in Hell. When he looked up, Lilith was next to him.

Lilith: I'll give you more power, of course. It's not like you have a choice, is it?

Adam flinched as his purple collar was summoned. With a harsh tug, he was forced out of his seat and onto the floor.

He glanced and saw a small, white snake looking at him. His heart broke, and now Lucifer knew. He was already dead.

He winced as his leash was pulled, making him sit on his knees. Lilith gripped his chin, and made him look at her.

Lilith: I'll give you more power, and you permanently destroy my daughters hotel. Understood?

Adam: ...I can't! I-I care for them- I-!

Lilith: You?! Care!? HA! I thought you were the radio demon? Known for torturing and devouring all in the Pride ring! You have no heart, Adam. Don't pretend that you do~. Now. You. Do. Understand?

Adam: ...N-No-

Lilith: Don't make me punish you, Adam. I have many interested parties that would love a chance and tasting you~.

Adam flinched: I-I understand- I'll d-do it...

Lilith: Good boy~. Now, open up~.

Adam hates this part.

Lilith leaned down and kissed him. Her power floods into his very angelic soul. Purple veins cracked his skin, making poison drip from the wound. It all burned.

Lilith: Done! Now, be a good boy, and fix yourself up- oh, and tell my darling husband and daughter that I'll catch up another time~.

Before Adam could say anything, she disappeared.

Adam could feel the tears fall from his eyes.

Adam: ...I-I'm sorry...

Lowkey want an au where Adam has Alastors' powers.

The tentacles

The eyes

The changing size

The shadows

The sass

The deal making

Him owning Husk and Nifty

The musical numbers

The radio control

The tentacles- have I mentioned that before?

The rivalry with Lucifer

Maybe he replaces Alastor entirely. No Alastor. Only Adam. It's always been Adam.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

Only Adam lol This is good! His Husk and Nifty could be Lute and Peter.

He doesn't have to smile all the time does he?

Yessss, and he plays rock instead of jazz lol And yes of course there is a rivalry lol

[randombush3]

recuérdame

alexia putellas x reader

summary: you wake up and you're not sure where

words: 1185 (treat this like a prologue ok x)

notes: i hope this actually takes off as a new series so i'm posting it now while i think about what comes next xx

There’s something groggy about the darkness in your mind. It’s not an eyes-closed kind of black; not a piece of white paper doused in ink. 

It’s thick like smog. Grainy. 

And all of a sudden, you are awake. 

There’s an incessant pounding in your mind that is sharp and rhythmic. The lights are too harsh, too much. The bed is hard under your heavy bones. 

You blink and even that small movement is strange, harder than it should be. 

The ceiling is peppered with small, grey dots. It’s terribly ugly, but your eyes cling to it as you try to shake off the haze. 

Slowly, the rest of the room comes into focus: sterile whites, beeping machines, tubes splaying out across what must be your body but feels like deadweight. The steady noise draws your attention after a moment, the sound seeming to echo inside your head. You turn, neck stiff and crunching, to catch a glimpse of a monitor, green lines spiking across its screen. 

The tubes aren’t just on top of you. They must be inside you. 

Something twists in your stomach. 

“You’re… awake.” 

…

No one really knows what to say to Alexia when she receives the call. 

Training is running over, the sun is beginning to set, and the girls are getting restless. The drill is nothing special, and the boredom it brings infects their captain, too, despite her valiant attempts at maturity. 

Alexia wants to get home, tonight of all nights. 

Five days ago, a work trip left her alone with a daughter that isn’t quite hers. There has been an other-mother shaped hole in the family ever since. Madrid continues to be evil. Her Catalan pride is vindicated once more. 

So when Pere blows his whistle, she all but sprints into the changing room (much to her coach’s dismay, since training ended because he assumed no one could run at that speed anymore), image of picture-perfect leadership be damned. 

Her shower is fast, clothes are shoved on even faster, and she is just about to walk through the automatic exit doors when her phone rings. 

A location update, she assumes. Or a complaint from an impatient tweenager (god, they seem to be fountains of those). 

It’s to her horror that she is incorrect. 

The nurse on the other line is eerily calm, but does not waste time beating around the bush. Her instructions are clear: come to the hospital now. 

“I think my fiancée has just died,” Alexia tells no one in particular. 

The team isn't sure whether or not she is joking. 

That was a week ago, and now she is here, in the hospital. Her bum is accustomed to the hard plastic chairs, her schedule skewed until the doctors finally wake you up from a medically induced coma. Amaia, her stepdaughter, is at her friend’s house, the boy’s mother insisting she care for her while Alexia makes a rather practical visit to the hospital. 

Alexia’s hands shake as she brings them to her face, rubbing her temples. The past week has been wrapped around her like a noose, suffocating and taut. She’s holding herself together but she is doing an uncharacteristically catastrophic job at it. Her mind is still tangled up in the phone call she’d received – and the many others she’d had to make after the nurse had hung up. Although there has been a swarm of activity (flights landing, taxis to the hospital, meals arriving at her front door with well-meaning notes attached), life has felt still. Stagnant. 

She is stuck in something she doesn’t know how to deal with. 

She closes her eyes for a second and inhales with as much steadiness as she can muster, letting the beeping of your monitor anchor her back to the present. It’s a strange sound to feel grateful for, each pulse a reminder that you are still here. With her. 

They have been gradually reducing the sedatives administered to you, making the answer to her question always ‘she will wake up when she wakes up’. The twitches in your finger have grown old now, and she is becoming very impatient. 

“If you wanted a holiday, we could’ve taken time off,” she tells you with a forced chuckle. “You didn’t need to get yourself into a…” 

You shift slightly in the bed. Alexia’s eyes snap open, her body surging upwards in hope. 

“Come on…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Please…”

Your eyelids flutter, hesitant, like they’re testing the weight of the world behind them. She hopes: at least it’s something. 

And it could be more, surely? It should be any minute now, according to the doctors. The wait will be over and she can get you back.

It’s been fifteen days since Alexia saw the eyes she fell in love with. 

Words fall out of her mouth but she barely registers them, staring at you listlessly, unprepared for this moment. She had thought about it, of course, imagining how to go about updating you on what you’ve missed: how Amaia’s match yesterday ended in a draw; how her own was a sizable but unsatisfying win. 

She wants to say things she should say more. Reminders, confessions. She wants to let out the anger that you did this to her; that you left, that you didn’t come back. And how she wants to hold you, kiss you, love you even more.

But the first thing Alexia notices behind bleary eyes is terror. Confusion. And, what she had told herself would not happen: a lack of recognition. 

I’m in a hospital, you think, but I don’t know who is here with me. 

The moment stretches on, thin and frail, and Alexia feels the tautness in her stomach like a rope holding dead weight over a cliff. Her heart – bruised, aching, impatient – is pierced by the way you look at her with poorly-masked indifference. 

“Hi,” she tries, waiting for you to come back fully, wanting to skip the part where it hurts so much. Her hand reaches out, hovering above your own, fingers aching to touch you, but she holds back. “Do you know where we are?” 

She should really call the nurse in, but she can’t quite bring herself to disrupt this. 

Your eyes flicker, glancing at the tubes and machines. The mattress hasn’t gotten any softer, nor your body any lighter. “Hospital,” you whisper, throat scratchy and hoarse. The word appears in your mind as almost foreign, coming from somewhere deeper than the blankness of the surface. Then your gaze drifts back to her, the hopeful woman at your bedside, brows furrowing as you struggle to place her into a life you can’t quite recall. Not that you’ve tried; you’ve got a screaming headache. 

The question on your lips twists Alexia’s insides. She anticipates it, with an instinctiveness that almost frustrates you. “I’m Alexia,” she says. She doesn’t sound sure. 

You stare through her and the distance clutches at her neck. Her nightmare lands, cold and final. 

“I’m… sorry. I don’t,” and like how she knows the question, she is well aware of the end of that sentence. 

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

a/n: I'm sorry if the pace of this story is slower. Most ABO fics I've read have the person of trauma acting totally normal and comfortable after like a day or two with the new pack. I wanted to have a more realistic approach where she gradually warms up to them. :/

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: angsty, explicit language, mentions of past abuse/neglect, fear, name calling, violence

WC: 4122

Chapter 5

It was the next day when you woke up. Doctor Quinn had brought you some clothes yesterday so you decided to shower and get dressed in one of the outfits. They were a little big, but you didn’t mind. Afterwards, you made your way downstairs and Felix was quick to ask you if you wanted to watch more Harry Potter. You nodded, but Changbin insisted you eat some breakfast first.

There was another spread on the kitchen island and you filled your plate the same as yesterday’s. The food was so good and you wanted to eat more but your stomach was full. Hyunjin had joined you and Changbin for breakfast, clearing your dishes for you when you were done.

“Thank you.” you muttered.

“Anytime.” Hyunjin flashed that cute smile of his and you looked away blushing.

Felix ushered you over eagerly, the movie already queued up. You went to sit but Jisung scooted away from Felix and patted the couch between them.

“Sit here.” He smiled.

You hesitated, not wanting to be trapped between two of them. 

“We don’t bite.” Felix chuckled.

“Don’t lie to her.” Changbin called from the dining table.

Your eyes grew wide and Jisung started laughing.

“You’re scaring her!” Felix glared at Changbin before reassuring you. “We won’t bite you.” 

 Swallowing, you cautiously sit on the couch between Felix and Jisung. Felix hits play on the movie and soon you were too into what was going on to worry about what Changbin had said. 

The three of you decided on a marathon for the day. Hyunjin joined too, his sketchbook in hand. You watched as his hand moved the pencil across the paper in calculated strokes. You couldn’t see what he was drawing, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious what it could be.

“Hyunjin is our artist. Painting, drawing…he does it all. And he’s so talented. That art up there on the wall, he painted that.” Jisung pointed to the right hand wall.

You looked over at the canvas displayed, admiring the art. It was abstract with dark colors, a pop of red mixed in. You didn’t fully understand it but it was still beautiful. 

Meanwhile, Felix was too distracted by his phone as the movie played. He leaned over, showing you his screen and insisting he has to buy you merch for your house so you can represent. You didn’t really understand why you would need it but he was too cute when he was excited so you didn’t object.

A couple hours passed as you binged the movies. Most of the others were all scattered doing their own thing or working. Chan surprisingly wasn’t working. Instead, he was fixing himself a snack in the kitchen. He kept an eye on you, making sure the boys didn’t get too rowdy near you. Last thing he wanted was for them to spook you.

“Y/n, you hungry?” Chan asked.

You shook your head.

“You sure? You had a small breakfast.” Chan frowned.

You nod.

“You need to eat more, y/n” Hyunjin says, mouth full of popcorn.

“Just wait until you start working out with me.” Changbin smirks.

Your eyes widen.

“Yeah, we gotta get you in shape girl. That way you can fight back and hold your own.” Changbin nods, sipping the smoothie he made. He offered you some but you just shook your head.

The idea of not being so weak was appealing. Maybe you could even get strong enough to kick Hayes or Milo’s ass.

The doorbell rang, interrupting your thoughts, and you wondered if it was the Doctor here to check up on you again. Didn’t she say in a few days?

Chan hopped off the arm of the couch and disappeared behind the stairs to answer it. You listened in, hearing him open the door.

“Hello. Can I help you guys?” he asked.

“Hopefully. We are looking for a lost member of our pack. We believe she got injured and wasn’t able to make it home last night.”

You froze.

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. It was Hayes. Crap. They found you. The blood drained from your face, heart pounding in your ears. You felt like you were gonna be sick. Feeling a hand on your arm, you flinched hard.

“It’s okay. It’s just me.” Felix pulled his hand away.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung whispered.

Changbin looked at his phone, only to abruptly stand up. He came over to you and slung you over his shoulder before you could get away. He moved quickly, getting you outside and on the back deck. You squirmed in his hold, praying he wasn’t giving you back to your old pack. You wanted to scream, but then that would alert Hayes. When you got outside, the fresh air hit you and you stopped fighting. He put you down and gestured to everyone to come outside as they sat on the couch staring in bewilderment. 

Minho heard the doorbell and listened out to see who it was. When he heard the man at the door say he was looking for a lost pack member, he knew who. He immediately texted in the group chat to get you away from the front door and out of sight. Then he made his way down the stairs, ready for a fight if it came to that.

Changbin had been the only one who saw the message and moved quickly. He could see you were frozen in fear and had to act fast. When everyone came outside, Changbin explained, the pack growing tense. You had squatted down behind the group, shaking and hugging your knees to your chest.

Minho was next to Chan, listening in on the conversation. Both Hayes and Milo were here, looking angrily at them.

“There’s nowhere else she could have disappeared to.” Hayes argued.

“I don’t know what to tell you man. She’s not here.” Chan insisted.

Hayes, growing tired of dealing with the “drama” you cause, forces himself into the house. Milo pushes against Minho, instantly regretting it as he gets knocked back down to the ground. Minho then saw at least ten others approaching from the driveway. He shut the door and locked it before coming over to pin the intruder down so Chan could deal with him.

The door swung open, nearly falling off the hinges as the wood splintered. One of them had kicked it open. Minho looked up to see Alpha Lewis.

“Find the girl.” he seethed.

His goons spread around the house, Minho fighting a few of them.

“Hayes, this one is mine. Find that little bitch and bring her to me.” Lewis said.

You watched from the window, Changbin standing in front of you. The others moved into the house to fight off the intruders and keep them from you. It wasn’t until Hayes saw you, that you knew you were done for. He would kill anyone that gets in his way.

You were shaking as Changbin took a defensive stance, fists bawled and ready to throw a punch as soon as Hayes gets close enough.

“Finally have someone standing up for you? I’m impressed.” Hayes stepped outside onto the deck. 

You don’t say anything.

“You’re not taking her so fuck off.” Changbin growled.

“That bitch belongs to us. Not you.” Hayes gritted through his teeth.

Changbin lunged at him, catching his jaw with a right hook. Hayes stumbled, wiping his lip and seeing blood on his finger. He chuckled.

“That’s the only one you’ll get.” Hayes taunted.

They began fighting and you scooted back, afraid of all the growling and punching. This was all your fault. You brought them here. And now these innocent people were getting hurt. Maybe you should go back…

You look inside and see Lewis with his foot on Chan’s chest as he smirked down at him. The world was slowing and yet it felt as if everything was happening too fast. It made you feel sick. You had to do something. But what?

Lewis lifted his leg and, with force, slammed it down-

You jolted awake with a scream. Sweat on your forehead, you looked around to see yourself in a bedroom - your bedroom. Light trickled in from the bathroom where you left it on, illuminating your surroundings. You place your hand on your chest as you try to catch your breath. What time is it? You look at the nightstand and the clock’s LED lights tell you it’s 3:25 am. Your door opens slowly and you look up.

“Hey…you okay?” It was Seungmin. “I heard you scream.”

You nodded.

Seungmin slipped in, closing the door behind him. He made his way over to the side of your bed. “Bad dream?”

You nod, running your fingers over the comforter absentmindedly.

“You ever going to talk to us?” he asked with a little chuckle.

“Sorry.” you mumbled.

“You don’t have to apologize. I just like hearing your cute voice. I wanna hear it more.” He sat down on the edge of your bed next to you.

You look up, blushing, and see Seungmin smile. You smirk, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“I get a smile too?” Seungmin feigns shock. “I am so lucky.”

You shake your head at him, rolling your eyes.

“Want me to stay with you till you fall asleep?”

You nod but then quickly add, “Yes, please.”

Seungmin smiles as you remember to speak for him, moving over to the chair in the corner of your room. “Sweet dreams, y/n.”

You snuggle back into the bed and try to not think about the nightmare you just had. You prayed they would never find you here. 

Seungmin watched you, listening to your breathing and still elevated heartbeat. He could only imagine how bad your nightmare was, wanting to comfort you desperately. But he knew the time would eventually come when he could hold you in his arms and sleep. 

For now he just listened. It took a while but your heart rate finally slowed, your breathing steady as you slept. He was so sleepy, he ended up falling asleep to the sound of your heartbeat.

Morning came and Seungmin woke up from the light shining in through your windows. His room had a darker theme, and his curtains were always closed as night so the sun wouldn’t wake him too early. This was too bright for him. He leaned forward and found you sleeping soundly. He couldn’t help but notice the way your lips were slightly parted. They looked so kissable that it took all his resolve to not move closer to you. 

Instead, he stood quietly and snuck out of your room and back across the hall to his own. His room was dark like normal and he happily climbed back in his bed, body stiff from the chair he had slept in. Within minutes he was back asleep.

He only managed to sleep another hour before Minho woke him up and called him downstairs. Groaning, he got up and headed downstairs. Everyone else made their way downstairs as well, some already awake and some still sleeping. Hyunjin nearly ran into the wall twice since he was still half sleep.

They all gathered out on the back deck, the morning air awakening their senses. Chan had made coffee for those who wanted it, and tea for the non coffee drinkers.

“Did anyone else hear a scream last night? Or did I dream that?” Jisung asked, rubbing his eyes.

“It was y/n. She had a nightmare.” Seungmin informed as he sat down.

“What?!” Hyunjin and Changbin were awake now.

“She’s fine. I fell asleep in her room waiting for her to fall back asleep though.” Seungmin yawned.

“Morning everybody,” Chan joined everyone outside. “We need to have a discussion about y/n.”

“Is this about her nightmare?” Changbin asked.

“No.” Chan shook his head. “She’s okay though, Seungmin?”

“Yes. Sleeping peacefully.” Seungmin smiled.

Chan had heard her scream last night, Minho too, but when they went to check on her, they heard Seungmin in there. Chan eavesdropped outside for a bit before heading back to his own room. He worried for her too but eventually fell asleep.

“We are keeping her, right?” Jisung asked.

“She’s not a pet…” Changbin glared.

“I didn’t mean it like that….” Jisung rolled his eyes.

“She is staying with us, yes.” Chan stated. “She is a part of this pack now. We do not abandon our own. And I want to thank each of you for being on your best behavior. You guys have been very welcoming and patient with her. I can see she is slowly getting used to us and opening up.”

“I can’t wait for her to trust us enough for hugs.” Felix sipped his tea.

“She’ll get there.” Hyunjin comforted, rubbing Felix’s lower back.

“Now… Raise your hand if you feel the soulmate pull to her.” Chan looked around.

Felix shot his hand up and slowly everyone else’s hands were raised, Minho slowly raising his last.

“Wait, where’s Innie?” Chan looked around, taking a headcount.

“Must still be asleep.” Minho answered.

“Aish…I’ll get onto him later.” Chan grumbled. “Anyways, I’ve been watching everyone and I had my suspicions. Looks like she’s a rare case of an omega with multiple soulmates. I know we are all mates and we have found a way to balance and care for everyone’s needs so we will do the same with y/n. I don’t want any fighting over her, understand?”

“Yes.” They all agree in unison.

“Great. And if you’re out on the property, keep your ears open. I don’t want any surprises. If you’re outside with y/n, remember to be aware of your surroundings. Last thing we need is for her to be spotted or snatched away. Stay far from the Nyko territory.”

“Does that mean we can take her swimming in the lake?” Felix asked.

“If she wants to, I don’t see why not, Lixie.” Chan shrugged. “But don’t go alone. If you’re outside the house, one or two members with you.”

Felix clapped his hands excitedly, making Hyunjin smile and kiss his temple.

“You wanna come with us?” Felix asked Hyunjin.

“I’ll go if Hyunjin is going.” Changbin was quick to interject.

“Yah! Because of you I couldn’t walk back the last time.” Hyunjin pointed an accusatory finger.

“You found the cave. AND THEN was telling me harder...faster. So who’s fault is it really?” Changbin mocked Hyunjin’s pleas from their previous time together.

“I don’t sound like that.” Hyunjin pouted.

“You do.” Felix, Minho, and Changbin all agreed in unison.

Hyunjin sat back in his chair, arms crossed.

“Let’s get breakfast started.” Chan said before heading towards his office.

Minho and Felix got up to start working on breakfast. Jisung set the table, and got out the juice. Changbin decided to go for a quick run. Hyunjin went back upstairs, wanting to sleep more and Seungmin went to take a shower.

Meanwhile, you had woken up and stretched. You grabbed the bag of clothes from the floor and dumped them on the bed. Doctor Quinn had in fact given you clothes yesterday so you picked out an outfit and went into the bathroom to shower. 

The water was warm and soothed your muscles and joints. You took your time, lathering the soap and standing under the waterfall. Eventually you got out, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You wrapped the towel around you and took your braids down from where you pinned them in the mirror. You then reached for the moisturizer Felix said to use after your shower and applied it to your face. It wouldn’t cover the bags or small scars but you did it anyway.

Afterwards, you slipped on the clothes, tying the drawstrings as tight as you could on the pants to help them fit. The pants were a bit big but you didn’t mind. After getting dressed, you removed your hair from the braids, letting it fall in waves down your back. You adjusted the front and sides before being satisfied with your reflection. You had never seen your hair look this good - or good at all.

You take a breath, bracing yourself, and open your door. The aroma of breakfast foods hits your nose and you smile. It smelled so good it made your mouth water and your stomach grumble. You quickly hope that today isn’t like your dream as you walk down the hallway. 

You notice the young alpha also heading towards the stairs. Jeongin was walking slowly, wiping sleep from his eyes when he spotted you. His eyes went wide and you caught his scent. You froze dead in your tracks, knowing that scent all too well. It wasn’t exactly the same, having Jeongin’s own scent to it, but the base of it was the same for any male hybrid.

He took a few slow steps forward, closer to the stairs than you were. You begin to back up, studying his movements. You swear his eyes flash red and then he charges at you. You yelp, running from him. The chase only entices him more and he loses himself.

You reach your room, but before you can enter, he lunges at you. You both tumble to the ground, Jeongin pinning you down. Wow he’s fast. Terror filled every cell in your body as every previous time with the Nykos flashes in your mind. You cry out and sob, squirming underneath him.

He growls, silencing you as he pins your arms above your head. Jeongin leans forward, sniffing at your neck above your scent gland. He groans, enticed by your smell. He leans down to kiss you-

“Jeongin, NO.” a deep voice roared in the hall. 

Jeongin’s red eyes faded back to his usual dark brown but he didn’t release you. Chan and Minho were quick to grab Jeongin and pull him off of you. He fought their hold, growling. Chan growled back - an alpha growl - and pinned him to the wall. Jeongin blinked rapidly, instantly stopping all protests.

“Wha-” he panted out confused.

Felix had run up the stairs with the others when they heard your scream. Seungmin quickly threw on clothes, stepping in the hallways as they pulled Jeongin off you. Now, Hyunjin and Jisung hurry over to your body, as you’re curled up in fetal position. You shook, your eyes squeezed shut, as you tried to push the awful memories away. They reached out to help you up and you flinched, yelping.

“Seungmin.” Minho said.

He hurried over, switching places with Minho and keeping hold of Jeongin. Jeongin wasn’t fighting them, instead panting as he watched them tend to you. Minho squatted next to you, releasing calming pheromones. The shaking subsided but you didn’t open your eyes.

“We’re gonna lift you now.” Minho said in a calm voice.

Minho nodded at Hyunjin and he reached out to pick you up. He too was releasing calming pheromones and you found yourself relaxing into his touch. They brought you into your room, Hyunjin placing you on your bed while Jisung stepped inside and closed the door.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Jeongin sobbed, sliding down the wall as they let go of him.

“It’s okay, Innie. We know…it’s your rut instincts.” Chan comforted with a clenched jaw.

Felix was fidgeting behind Chan, biting his lip as he breathed heavily. Jeongin’s heightened smell from his rut was getting to him. He smelled so good, Felix couldn’t help but get hard despite the situation. Seungmin too was hard, but he focused with all his resolve.

“I don’t understand. It’s too early. And now she’s going to hate me.” Jeongin hid his face in his hands.

“Innie…it’s okay. Sometimes omegas can induce an earlier rut. It was bound to happen to one of us. And you’re still learning control. She will understand.” Chan moves Jeongin's hands from his face and wipes his tears.

“He’s going to have to go to the rut house while she’s here.” Minho notes.

Chan nods.

“I’ll go.” Jeongin says, standing up with drooping shoulders.

“Who do you want to go with you?” Minho asked.

“No one.” Jeongin says. 

“You’re going to need someone to help.” Seungmin reminds.

“I don’t deserve it.” Jeongin says, walking down the stairs and out the basement doors.

Chan sighs, looking to the others.

“He’ll be okay. I’ll check on him in a bit.” Minho says.

“Y/n….?” Hyunjin whispered. 

You didn’t say anything.

“Can we check you? Make sure you’re not hurt?” Jisung asks.

You don’t move.

“Innie is still learning to control himself as a new alpha. His rut makes this harder. He didn’t mean to….scare you.” Hyunjin explains, choosing his words carefully.

“I know.” you whisper.

“Are you hurt?” Jisung asks.

“No.” 

“Okay.” Jisung pouts and looks at Hyunjin, unsure what to do.

Knock, knock.

You jump, but Hyunjin instinctively rubs your back. You let him as the door opens, Chan coming in.

“Y/n? Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Chan rushes to your side, Hyunjin moving out of the way.

“No.” you sniffle.

“Let me see.” Chan says, lifting your arms.

“I’m fine.” you say, pulling your arms back towards your body.

“Okay. Well he won’t be in the house for a few days. So you don’t have to worry about running into him again.”

“I got him in trouble?” you question.

“No. He’s not in trouble. We have a little house on the property that we sometimes use for our ruts, if we need to be alone, or just want some privacy. He’s gonna be there until his rut is done.”

“Oh…” you sit up.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jisung asks, scanning your body for any injuries.

“Yes. I’m fine.” you say, not used to being doted on so much.

“Hungry?” Hyunjin asks. 

“No.” You say.

“Liar.” Jisung smirks. “Let’s go get breakfast.”

Reluctantly, you follow Jisung downstairs and fix yourself a plate. As you sit at the table you nibble on the food, not really wanting to eat. 

Jisung didn't push you to eat more, knowing your morning was rough. 

Hyunjin informed Chan that he would go be with Jeongin for a while, helping him and making sure he's not punishing himself. Chan nodded, thanking him for his help and telling him to take some food with him. 

Chan had wanted to have a conversation with you and all the members, informing you about the soulmate pull he knew you were feeling too. But with Jeongin and Hyunjin out for a bit, he figured he would wait. If it came up naturally, he would address it. But for now, they would just focus on making sure you’re comfortable.

Felix had come downstairs after you finished breakfast, cheeks flushed a light pink and a smile on his face. He fixed himself a plate as Seungmin came and stole a strip of bacon off it. Felix groaned, grabbing another one before sitting down. 

Changbin returned from his run and looked around.

“Everything okay?” he asked, taking in the tense atmosphere.

Jisung pulled him aside and explained what happened. Changbin was appalled and came back to the kitchen to check on you. But you weren’t there. They panicked, searching the house for you and eventually found you in your room.

“You okay? I heard what happened.” Changbin came into the room.

“I’m fine.” you mumble, wiping a few tears so he wouldn’t see.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

You looked over at him confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“I promised myself to always protect you. I’ll be like your own personal bodyguard. No one will hurt you ever again.” Changbin stated.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’m going to shower. Then we are going to hang out, okay?”

“Okay.”

Changbin nodded, heading off to his room down the hall.

You were quiet the rest of the day despite having left your room to hang out with Changbin. He gave you a tour of his room and then you joined a few of the boys in the living room. You all sat watching tv for a bit, but you were hardly paying attention. 

Felix wanted to make some brownies and asked if you wanted to help. You had never been allowed to cook so you eagerly went into the kitchen with him. He taught you how to bake, Changbin and Jisung sitting at the island and chatting with you two. You didn’t say much, but enjoyed feeling like part of the conversation.

Chan came in from his office, seeing you in the kitchen and it warmed his heart. He had hoped this incident wouldn’t set back your progress of trusting them, but you continue to surprise him. 

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@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @bowsnbang @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound

Shout out to my beta for inspiring, motivating, and pushing me! @its-the-solar-system