#she’s carrying a piece of her mother around

[blu3-ja3]

Doctor Maevis "Maeve" O'Connor is a tall well built woman. She has to be in order to keep up with those boys when out on ops, carrying around a pack full of medical supplies like it's nothing. Roach and Soap can attest it's not something to scoff at (Ghost thought running some laps while carrying it would be a good punishment, a story for later).

Her ginger hair has a smattering of white and silver throughout, it's almost always tied up into a tight bun. But on the rare occasion that Soap or Gaz miss playing with their sisters' hair, it's long and wavy. She has bushie eyebrows and long lashes but they're almost non-existent in the right light.

She has a broad nose and thin lips. Her skin is pale, slightly wrinkled, and easily sunburnt (Price jokes she could sit in a room with a too bright bulb and she's likely to burn) it's littered with millions of tiny freckles that are seemingly endless. She has a faint scar above her left eye that disappears into her hair line, another more obvious burn scar that creeps out of her turtle neck uniform and licks up her jaw, cheek, and ear. It peaks out from her long sleeve as well not nearly as dark and angry but still there on her right hand.

Her nails are short and painted whatever color the trio of Sargents pick out. She states that she's a mother first, a doctor second, and a captain third. She has told Price and Laswell that she was never interested in her rank, sometimes even hating it. But she's fine so long as she can help get everyone back in one piece.

They all notice when Doc is very tired she slips hard into her Irish accent and slips a few words of Gaelic when excited. MacTavish and her enjoy confusing the rest of the team by having full conversations in their native tongue. Soap likes fucking with Ghost in particular.

O'Connor is quick to give motherly advice and even a hug while needed. She surprised Ghost one night when he was having a rough time sleeping, she simply appeared holding a mug of tea and a cigarette. They just stood there in silence for a while. Once he'd finished his tea she walked him to his room, she still said nothing as she gently pulled him into a hug and lightly kissed his forehead over his balaclava. He slept well that night, never expecting such motherly affection to be directed at himself.

Gaz enjoyed baking with her and recounting stories about his family, mostly of his brother and sister. O'Connor enjoys hearing the brit recount childhood and see how he became such a big brother figure amongst the three Sargents.

O'Connor would often challenge Soap to a game of chess, knowing how bright the boy was. She knew if he wasn't doing something that required both his brain and his hands he'd end up in her office with new scrapes and scratches. He's taken up keeping track of how often he wins or loses. So far he's on a losing streak.

It took her a while to find something to keep Roach from doing something out of boredom that would land him in her office. But one rainy evening she found a box on the outside of the compound with a puppy inside. Bringing it back Roach was immediately enthralled, promising to take care of the puppy. If you're looking for Roach look for the barking and you'll find the Sargent.

She keeps Price sain by keeping his boys sain and alive. They seem to have a knack for getting into dangerous situations that aren't a part of their normal plans. But she's quick to react when time allows, going full mother hen and patching them up. She talks them down from stupid impulses also. O'Connor is a second pair of ears and eyes for Price to confirm with that yes they are seeing/hearing this it's not a hallucination.

O'Connor noticed rather quickly when certain people walked with limps and had created a little one stop drawer for them; lube, condoms, simple pain relief, and numbing cream. She doesn't ask when one of them slips into her office and goes straight to the drawer. She just files it away to check later and restocks.

She also notices the near constant smell of tobacco and after a long seminar on the dangers of tobacco she gave them alternatives. For oral fixes nicotine gum and herbal cigs, for the sometimes needed kick patches and candied ginger and licorice root. And on the rare occasion those don't work then a real smoke was fine. She does everything in her power to make sure that they are taken care of, even if it's nearly impossible at times. And when they come back hurting physically or mentally she tries her best to soothe that hurt.

She learns their favorite treats and makes them on their birthday or special occasions. She does what a mother can, what a doctor can when in the lines of fire and combat. Only pulling rank when one of the 141 doesn't listen, but eventually they trust her advice. They keep habits but exchange them for safer ones. And when the impulsive decisions are made she's there to scold and tend to their injuries.

Doc was an obvious nickname, same with Price calling her Maeve. The one that surprised her was when a new kid called her Hen. None of the Sargents tell her who started. She eventually finds out Ghost is the one who started it, referring to her being a "Bloody Mother Hen" she takes pride in that.

One night after the boys return from Las Almas and the rapid chaos after she finds Soap struggling. She is immediately at his side, soothing and comforting the man like he's a scared child. But never in a way to degrade him, only to comfort only in a way a mother can. Stroking his hair and humming. Once exhaustion finally took hold, O'Connor led Soap back to his barracks and got him into bed, she stood to leave when a hand grabbed her wrist stopping her, "Thanks Mom". For weeks she told herself he said ma'am, his accent thicker when tired. It bugs her but she keeps it to herself choosing not to dwell.

Another day she finds Roach pacing, a frantic look on his eyes, she takes him for a walk around base. Let him speak about surviving being shot and burned alive. She falls into her role, soothing and comforting. Eventually they move into the mess and separate ways "Thanks Mom". It shocks her and for a few days she convinced herself she's heard it wrong.

Gaz calls her the name after a particularly nasty head that keeps her up monitoring for nights on end. She chalks it up to just the injury and says nothing about it until he calls her the name again after tending to a slight burn on his hand. It throws her for days stirring millions of thoughts and emotions.

They start calling her Mom after she scolds them or comforts them, she tells them to stop but can't hide the smile on her face. It's only the Sargents for a bit calling her the name, Price calls her the name as a joke when a Sargents asks for something. "Go ask Mom, she'll tell you yes or no." It warms a part of her soul that had long been cold and tired.

When Ghost calls her mom it was after scolding him like a child, not because he disobeyed orders but because he got shot twice in the process nothing serious but enough for her to jump when he reappeared holding his shoulder. She got to him before Price and ran him through, the Sargents were hiding behind Price. It's not often they see the Doctor so angry while patching someone up. She kept her venom flowing as she finished her work. She stood up and leveled a lethal glare at Ghost before turning to go to the front of the boening "Sorry Mom." The tension was suffocating and no one said anything to Doc for the rest of the ride. Even Price stayed out of the way once they landed.

Price finds her in the training room beating the hanging sand bag until Price was certain her knuckles were bruised. When the Lieutenant walked in and over towards the pit, Price almost dragged the man out but he knew this was the closest thing Ghost has to an apology. So he steps back and lets the two figure things out. Price keeps the Sargents out. So when the two finally leave the room without anymore scraps or bruises, Price was pleased to say the least.

She cares for like they're her own because in a way they are her's. They're safety above everything if it can be helped and she tries damn hard about just that. Because Maevis O'Connor refuses to lose any more if she can help it.

[alicent-archive]

Alicent Hightower’s seven-pointed star necklace collection.

[vanquishedmelon]

I'm really out here developing a full backstory for the Warren line from the time they claimed the manor for good to the time of Penny's birth...... as if I would ever fully flesh out and write it..... like I've got all these ideas and I just want to ramble on about them but WHY when in a week's time I'll move onto something else and forget about this

[poimi]

a child cannot separate from their mother without first violently tearing her heart from her chest

[rainbow-needs-help]

i am going to fight god this fine monday morning because that fucker seems to have it out for me and it’s not even ten am

[bunnys-kisses]

i have this little thought bouncing around in my head! single father simon. (a drabble)

*shrug*

simon ends up with his daughter winnie after her mother abandons her at his doorstep. he was the father, it was his turn to take care of her. simon could handle warfare, he could handle guns and sweat and metal. he could handle blood and bruises.

but a fussy newborn was a little too much for him.

enter you, it was your summer off from university and you were making extra money by babysitting for parents who couldn't afford weeks of posh summer camps. it was decent work and you were pretty good with them! so being concerned for your neighbour, simon's well being, you offered to watch winnie.

simon very well fell in love with you the moment you took the baby girl into you arms. winnie instantly got settled into your grasp, almost like you were her mother.

"what a lovely baby girl." you cooed, you looked at her with such affection already. you looked at simon and smiled, "she looks too cute to be yours." a playful jab.

you watched winnie while simon was at work. you didn't know what he did for work, but you tried not to ask too many questions. all you knew was that the checks didn't bounce when you cashed them.

but being with winnie for so many days had gossip go through the apartment building. you had a baby with simon? why were you in two separate apartments? where did the lovely newborn sleep? she SHOULD be sleeping with her mother (you).

when you tried to correct them, simon always said, "ah don't worry. we'll be havin' our own place soon enough!" his large hand snaked around your waist.

you just looked down at winnie who was sound asleep in her stroller. she couldn't care less who her mommy and daddy were. it wouldn't be hard to be the mother she'd otherwise be without, right?

that was the angle that simon too.

you'd make the most perfect mrs. riley. you were already taking care of winnie, but also him when he came home. you shouldn't be the nanny, you should be winnie's mama.

"she really loves you." simon remarked when you went with him to the pool.

you were in a one piece swim suit and you were making sure that the baby was out of the sun and had sunscreen on. you didn't want her to get sick or burned.

currently she was resting on your chest while you were in the shade. in your free hand you had a book in it and the other was on winnie's back. you said, "i don't know what you're talking about." as if you hadn't heard the comments from the little old ladies about how sweet you two looked.

"look like a real mama."

you looked to him and raised your eyebrows, "i thought i was the babysitter, mister riley."

simon placed a hand on your thigh then rubbed up and down, "nah."

it didn't take long for you and simon to get intimate. he asked you to stay because winnie had been having trouble sleeping. you two shared a glass of wine and then you found yourself face first into simon's bed. the scent of him filled your head as he fucked you into the comfortable mattress.

he loved the sound of your pussy as he fucked you without much abandon. the thickness on your hips would only grow once he made sure his next child was inside of you. you'd be such a good mama, unlike that previous bitch who left him.

maybe there was a good reason why she left him.

cum clung to the fuzz on your pussy lips and was a bitch to clean in the shower come morning.

he woke you up and said, "she needs her mama. she gettin' fussy, doll." then watched you stumble around to find clothes to wear while you checked on winnie as if the little girl was your own. his hand was wrapped around his cock. he wondered how many more times he could finish in you before you stumbled back to your apartment.

the answer was four.

it wouldn't be easy carrying for a sprouting little baby plus the baby boy you were currently pregnant with. you've put school off for a little while and moved in with simon, your due date was in the middle of the semester. now you were trying to figure out what food was good for a teething winnie while also trying to manage the riley son that was occupying your womb.

you were making dinner for your growing family with a cute little maternity dress of. simon was at the table with winnie. he knew that one day he'd have to tell her that you weren't her actual mama. but you were raising her and her little brother too.

"see there's mama." simon said in that grumbled voice of his, pointing in your direction.

you didn't imagine that you would've ended up as a stay-at-home mother to two children who were than a year apart. but as you felt the shift of your 'second' baby inside of you, you smiled.

you heard winnie make a little noise to get your attention. you checked on the pot of sauce on the stove before you turned away to check on your little girl.

[pucksandpower]

Jilted

Charles Leclerc x runaway bride!Reader

Summary: you find out that your groom is a cheating bastard on your wedding day … Charles helps you pick up the pieces

The sun-drenched bridal suite buzzes with anticipation as you stand before the full-length mirror, your reflection a vision in white lace and satin. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through your veins. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but something feels ... off.

“You look absolutely stunning,” your best friend, Mia, gushes as she adjusts your veil. “James won’t know what hit him.”

You force a smile, trying to shake the nagging feeling in your gut. “Thanks, Mia. I just ... I can’t believe this is really happening.”

Mia squeezes your hand reassuringly. “Cold feet are totally normal. Trust me, once you see James waiting for you at the altar, all those doubts will melt away.”

A soft knock at the door interrupts your thoughts. Your mother peeks her head in, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

As she enters the room, you notice her clutching her phone, her knuckles white. “Mom? Is everything okay?”

She hesitates, exchanging a worried glance with Mia. “I ... I’m not sure how to say this, honey.”

Your stomach drops. “Mom, what is it? Just tell me.”

She takes a deep breath. “I just got off the phone with James’ mother. She... she overheard him talking to someone. A woman.”

The room spins as you struggle to process her words. “What are you saying?”

“It seems ... it seems James has been seeing someone else. For quite some time, apparently.”

The words hit you like a physical blow. You stumble back, gripping the edge of the vanity for support. “No,” you whisper. “That can’t be true. We’re getting married in an hour!”

Mia rushes to your side, her arm around your waist. “Y/N, breathe. We’ll figure this out.”

But you can’t breathe. The room feels too small, the air too thick. “I need ... I need to talk to him.”

Before anyone can stop you, you’re bolting from the room, your dress billowing behind you as you race down the hallway. You burst into the groom’s quarters, startling the group of groomsmen inside.

“Where is he?” You demand, your voice trembling.

James’ best man, Tom, steps forward, his face pale. “Y/N, what are you doing here? It’s bad luck-”

“Where. Is. He?” You repeat, each word dripping with venom.

The bathroom door opens, and there he stands — the man you thought you’d spend forever with. James’ eyes widen as he takes in your disheveled appearance. “Honey? What’s wrong?”

You laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “What’s wrong? How about you tell me, James? Who is she?”

His face crumples, and in that moment, you know it’s true. “Y/N, I can explain-”

“Explain?” You spit. “Explain how you’ve been cheating on me our entire engagement? How you were going to stand up there and lie to my face, in front of everyone we love?”

James reaches for you, but you recoil. “Please, just let me-”

“Don’t touch me!” You scream, tears streaming down your face. “How could you do this to me?”

The room falls silent, save for your ragged breathing. James’ groomsmen shift uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. You turn to leave, but James grabs your arm.

“Y/N, wait. I love you. We can work this out,” he pleads.

You wrench your arm free, fixing him with a glare that could freeze hell itself. “Love me? You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

With that, you’re running again, pushing past concerned guests and ignoring the calls of your name. You burst out of the hotel into the blinding sunlight, your legs carrying you down the street without a destination in mind.

You don’t know how long you run, your white dress now stained with dirt and tears. Eventually, you find yourself in a part of town you don’t recognize, your feet aching and your lungs burning. A neon sign catches your eye — The Dive Hole.

Without thinking, you push open the door to the dingy bar. The few patrons inside turn to stare as you stumble in, a bride in full wedding attire, mascara streaking down your cheeks.

The bartender, a gruff-looking man in his fifties, raises an eyebrow. “Rough day, sweetheart?”

You laugh, the sound bordering on hysterical. “You could say that.”

As you collapse onto a barstool, the weight of the day finally crashes down on you. You bury your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

The bartender slides a glass of amber liquid in front of you. “On the house,” he says gruffly. “Looks like you could use it.”

You lift your head, offering him a watery smile. “Got anything stronger?”

***

The world spins as you stumble out of The Dive Hole, your wedding dress now stained with whiskey and regret. The streetlights blur into a hazy glow as you teeter on your heels, struggling to maintain your balance.

“Hey, watch it!” A passerby shouts as you nearly collide with him.

“Sorry,” you slur, waving a hand dismissively. “Just trying to ... to find my happily ever after. Have you seen it? I think I lost it somewhere.”

The man hurries away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk. You laugh bitterly, the sound echoing in the empty street. “That’s right, run away! Everyone else does!”

As you take another unsteady step, your heel catches in a crack in the pavement. You lurch forward, bracing for impact with the cold, hard ground. But instead of concrete, you find yourself enveloped in warmth.

“Whoa there!” A gentle voice exclaims. “Are you alright?”

You blink, trying to focus on the face of your savior. Kind green eyes peer down at you, filled with concern. The man helps you regain your footing, his hands steady on your arms.

“I’m fine,” you insist, even as the world continues to tilt around you. “Just ... just celebrating. It’s my wedding day, you know.”

The man’s brow furrows as he takes in your disheveled appearance. “Celebrating alone? In the middle of the street?”

You nod vigorously, immediately regretting the action as nausea washes over you. “Yep! Best day ever. Who needs a groom anyway, right?”

“I’m Charles,” he introduces himself, his accent warm and inviting. “And I think maybe you should sit down for a moment. There’s a bench just over there.”

He gently guides you to the nearby bench, helping you settle onto it. You slump against the backrest, your head lolling to the side.

“So, Charles,” you drawl, poking him in the chest. “What brings you out on this fine evening? Looking for love in all the wrong places?”

Charles chuckles softly. “Actually, I was just heading home after a late dinner with friends. And then I found a beautiful bride who seems to be having a rough night.”

You snort, gesturing to your ruined dress. “Beautiful? I look like I’ve been through a war. A war of the heart.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Charles offers, his voice gentle and free of judgment.

For a moment, you consider spilling everything. But the wound is too fresh, the betrayal too raw. Instead, you shake your head, feeling tears well up in your eyes once more.

“No talking,” you mumble. “Just ... can you sit with me for a bit?”

Charles nods, settling onto the bench beside you. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

You sit in silence for a while, the cool night air slowly clearing your head. Charles remains a steady presence at your side, occasionally glancing at you with concern.

Finally, you break the silence. “I should probably go home. Except ... I don’t really know where home is anymore.”

Charles frowns. “You don’t have anywhere to go?”

You shake your head, a humorless laugh escaping your lips. “Nope. Funny how your whole life can fall apart in a single day, huh?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, seeming to wrestle with a decision. Finally, he speaks. “Look, I know we’ve just met, but ... I have a spare room. You’re welcome to stay there for the night, just to sleep it off and figure things out in the morning.”

You blink at him, surprised by the offer. “You’d do that for a stranger?”

He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Well, we’re not exactly strangers now, are we? Besides, I couldn’t live with myself if I left you out here alone.”

You consider his offer. Every logical part of your brain is screaming that this is a bad idea, but something in Charles’ eyes tells you he can be trusted. Plus, you’re not exactly swimming in options at the moment.

“Okay,” you agree softly. “Thank you, Charles.”

He helps you to your feet, steadying you as you sway slightly. “My car’s just around the corner. Think you can make it?”

You nod, determined. “Lead the way, knight in shining armor.”

The ride to Charles’ apartment is mercifully short. You spend most of it with your head against the cool glass of the window, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Charles fills the silence with gentle small talk, his voice soothing in the darkness.

When you arrive, Charles helps you out of the car and into the elevator. As you ascend, the reality of your situation starts to sink in.

“Oh God,” you groan, leaning against the elevator wall. “What am I doing? I don’t even know you. For all I know, you could be a serial killer or something.”

Charles chuckles. “I promise I’m not a serial killer. Just a guy who couldn’t leave a crying bride on the street.”

The elevator doors open, and Charles leads you down the hallway to his apartment. As he fumbles with his keys, you sway on your feet, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with you.

“Here we are,” Charles announces, pushing open the door. “Home sweet home.”

You step inside, taking in the stylish but comfortable living room. “Nice place. Very ... un-serial-killer-like.”

Charles laughs. “Thanks, I think. The spare room is just down the hall, but maybe we should get you some water first.”

He guides you to the kitchen, filling a glass with cool water. You accept it gratefully, gulping it down.

“Easy there,” Charles warns. “Small sips or you’ll make yourself sick.”

You nod, slowing down. As you finish the water, a wave of emotion washes over you. The events of the day come crashing back, and before you know it, you’re sobbing.

“Hey, hey,” Charles says softly, moving closer. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, burying your face in his shirt. Charles stiffens for a moment, surprised, before wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m s-sorry,” you hiccup between sobs. “I’m getting your shirt all wet and snotty.”

You feel Charles’ chest rumble with a soft laugh. “Don’t worry about it. That’s what washing machines are for.”

He holds you as you cry, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. You cling to him, this kind stranger who’s shown you more compassion in one night than your fiancé did in years.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Charles asks gently.

You shake your head, still pressed against his chest. “Not yet. Maybe... maybe tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he says simply. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You stay like that for a while, your sobs gradually subsiding into quiet sniffles. Charles continues to hold you, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions.

As your breathing evens out, exhaustion begins to overtake you. Your eyelids grow heavy, and you find yourself struggling to stay upright.

Charles seems to sense your fatigue. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He leads you down the hallway to the spare room, supporting most of your weight as you stumble along. The room is simple but cozy, with a plush-looking bed that seems to call your name.

“There should be some spare pajamas in the dresser,” Charles says. “They might be a bit big, but they’ll be more comfortable than that dress.”

You nod sleepily, already fumbling with the zipper of your gown. Charles quickly turns away, a blush creeping up his neck.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you to it,” he stammers. “Bathroom’s right across the hall if you need it. And I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble, your eyes already half-closed. “Thank you, Charles. For everything.”

He smiles softly. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”

As the door closes behind him, you manage to slip out of your wedding dress and into a pair of soft sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. The bed feels like heaven as you sink into it, your body finally relaxing after the emotional roller coaster of the day.

But as you lie there in the dark, the silence allows your thoughts to creep back in. Memories of James, of the life you thought you’d have, of the future that’s now shattered. Tears begin to fall once more, soaking into the pillow.

Before you know it, you’re padding out to the living room, sniffling quietly. Charles looks up from his spot on the couch, concern etched on his face.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Every time I close my eyes, I see ... I just ... I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Without a word, Charles opens his arms. You practically collapse onto the couch next to him, curling into his side. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

You nod against his chest, fresh tears soaking into his shirt. Charles doesn’t seem to mind, just holds you tighter and begins to hum softly, a soothing melody that washes over you.

As you lie there, surrounded by the warmth and kindness of this virtual stranger, you feel something you haven’t felt all day: safe. The steady rhythm of Charles’ heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull you into a state of calm.

Your eyelids grow heavy once more, and this time, you don’t fight it. As you drift off to sleep, still wrapped in Charles’ arms and using his shirt as a makeshift tissue, your last coherent thought is a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be better.

***

The first rays of sunlight filter through the unfamiliar curtains, gently rousing you from your slumber. For a blissful moment, you’re disoriented, unaware of where you are or why your head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. Then, like a tidal wave, the memories of yesterday crash over you, bringing with them a fresh wave of pain and embarrassment.

You groan, burying your face in the pillow. How did you end up here? Slowly, fragments of the night before come back to you — a kind stranger, an offer of shelter, crying yourself to sleep on the stranger’s couch.

Charles.

His name was Charles.

The smell of coffee and something deliciously savory wafts through the air, making your stomach growl despite the lingering nausea. Reluctantly, you drag yourself out of bed, wincing at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair is a tangled mess, mascara smudged under your eyes, and you’re wearing clothes that are decidedly not yours.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself to face your host. You pad quietly down the hallway, following the sounds of movement in the kitchen. As you round the corner, you see Charles standing at the stove, his back to you as he hums softly to himself.

You clear your throat softly. “Um, good morning.”

Charles turns, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Good morning! How are you feeling?”

You grimace, running a hand through your tangled hair. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck. Emotionally and physically.”

He chuckles sympathetically. “I bet. Here, sit down. Coffee?”

You nod gratefully, sinking into a chair at the small kitchen table. “Yes, please. And maybe some painkillers if you have them?”

“Coming right up,” Charles says, placing a steaming mug in front of you before rummaging in a drawer for the pills.

As you sip the coffee, relishing the warmth spreading through your body, Charles returns to the stove. “I hope you like omelets. I wasn’t sure what you’d be up for, but I figured eggs are usually a safe bet.”

“Omelets sound perfect,” you say, your stomach rumbling in agreement. “Thank you. For everything. I ... I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me last night.”

He waves off your thanks, sliding a plate in front of you. “No need to thank me. I’m just glad I could help.”

As Charles settles into the chair across from you with his own plate, a comfortable silence falls between you. You pick at your food, your appetite warring with the knot of anxiety in your stomach.

Finally, Charles breaks the silence. “So ... seems like yesterday is quite a story.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “A very long one.”

Charles’ green eyes meet yours, filled with gentle curiosity. “Care to share?”

You hesitate, pushing your food around your plate. Part of you wants to keep it all locked away, to pretend yesterday never happened. But another part of you is desperate to unburden yourself, to make sense of the whirlwind that turned your life upside down.

Taking a deep breath, you begin. “Well, yesterday was supposed to be my wedding day.”

Charles nods encouragingly. “I gathered as much from the dress. What happened?”

“I found out my fiancé — ex-fiancé now, I guess — has been cheating on me. Throughout our entire engagement.”

Charles winces. “Ouch. That’s ... I’m so sorry.”

You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant even as tears prick at your eyes. “Yeah, well. Apparently I’m great at picking them.”

“How did you find out?” Charles asks gently.

You laugh bitterly. “Oh, it was a real soap opera moment. His mother overheard him on the phone with the other woman, literally an hour before the ceremony. She told my mom, who told me, and ... well, you can imagine how that went down.”

Charles shakes his head, disbelief etched on his face. “That’s awful. What did you do?”

“I confronted him, of course. In front of all his groomsmen. It was ... not my finest moment. There was a lot of yelling, some crying, probably some mascara running. And then I just ... ran. In my wedding dress. Like some cliché runaway bride, except I had nowhere to run to.”

You pause, taking a sip of coffee to steady yourself. Charles remains silent, his face a mix of sympathy and something else — anger, maybe?

“I ended up in some bar I’d never been to before,” you continue. “Drank way too much, way too fast. And then I was stumbling around on the street, and ... well, you know the rest.”

Charles nods slowly, processing your story. “Wow. That’s ... that’s a hell of a day.”

You snort. “You can say that again.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Charles says, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand gently. “No one deserves that kind of betrayal.”

His touch is warm and comforting, and you find yourself fighting back tears again. “Thanks. I just ... I feel so stupid. How did I not see it? We were together for five years. We were supposed to spend our lives together. And all this time ...”

“Hey,” Charles interrupts softly. “You’re not stupid. He’s the one who made the choice to betray your trust. That’s on him, not you.”

You nod, not entirely convinced but appreciating his words nonetheless. “I guess. It’s just ... where do I go from here? We had a whole life planned out. A home, careers, maybe kids someday. And now it’s all just ... gone.”

Charles is quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “Maybe this is an opportunity.”

You look at him skeptically. “An opportunity? To what, have my heart ripped out and stomped on?”

He chuckles softly. “No, no. I mean ... look, I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you’ve been given a chance to rewrite your story. To figure out what you really want, without having to consider someone else’s dreams or expectations.”

His words give you pause. You’d been so focused on what you’d lost, you hadn’t even considered what you might gain. “I ... I guess I never thought of it that way.”

“It’s okay if you’re not ready to see it as a positive yet,” Charles assures you. “Healing takes time. But I promise you, this isn’t the end of your story. It’s just the beginning of a new chapter.”

You manage a small smile, the first genuine one since yesterday morning. “Where did you learn to be so wise, huh?”

Charles grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh, you know. I moonlight as a philosopher when I’m not rescuing damsels in distress from the streets.”

You laugh, surprised by how good it feels. “My hero,” you tease.

As your laughter fades, a comfortable silence settles between you. You find yourself studying Charles, really looking at him for the first time. He’s handsome, in a boyish sort of way, with kind eyes and an easy smile. There’s something familiar about him, but you can’t quite place it.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “I’ve shared my tragic backstory. What about you? What’s your deal, Charles?”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, you know. Just your average guy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Average guys don’t usually invite strange women in wedding dresses to stay the night. Unless ... oh God, you’re not married, are you? Did I just cause some poor woman to think her husband was cheating?”

Charles laughs, holding up his hands. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m very much single. And I promise, inviting strange women in wedding dresses to stay over is not a regular occurrence for me.”

“So what do you do, then? When you’re not playing knight in shining armor?”

A flicker of something crosses Charles’ face before he answers. “I’m ... in sports. Racing, actually.”

You nod, impressed. “Racing? Like, cars?”

“Formula 1,” he clarifies. “I’m a driver.”

Suddenly, it clicks. The familiarity, the nagging feeling that you’ve seen him before. Your eyes widen. “Oh my God. You’re Charles Leclerc. The Ferrari driver.”

He grins sheepishly. “Guilty as charged.”

You bury your face in your hands, mortified. “Oh God. Oh God. I cried all over a world-famous race car driver. I used your shirt as a tissue. This is ... this is so embarrassing.”

Charles reaches across the table, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “Hey, none of that. I’m just a person, like anyone else. And I meant what I said — I’m glad I could help.”

You peek at him through your fingers. “You’re sure? Because I’m pretty sure I got mascara and snot all over your probably very expensive shirt.”

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “I promise, it’s fine. The shirt will survive. I’m more concerned about you. How are you feeling now?”

You consider the question, taking stock of your emotional state. “Honestly? Still pretty awful. But ... maybe a little less awful than before. Thank you. Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me last night.”

Charles smiles softly. “I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time. And hey, look at it this way — you’ve got a pretty unique story to tell now.”

You groan, but can’t help laughing. “Oh yeah, because drunk and crying in a wedding dress is exactly how I wanted to meet one of the best F1 drivers in the world.”

“One of the best?” Charles teases, clutching his chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I’m clearly the best.”

You roll your eyes, grinning despite yourself. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of such greatness.”

As you banter back and forth, you feel something shift inside you. The pain is still there, raw and aching, but it’s no longer all-consuming. For the first time since yesterday, you feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay after all.

***

The roar of engines fills the air as you make your way through the bustling paddock, the excitement of race day palpable. You can’t help but smile, still amazed at how much your life has changed in the past few years. From runaway bride to Formula 1 WAG — it’s a plot twist you never saw coming.

“Mon cœur!” A familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Charles jogging towards you, his race suit tied around his waist. He grins as he reaches you, pulling you into a quick embrace.

“Hey, you,” you say, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

Charles shrugs, his eyes twinkling. “I’ve got time. Besides, I needed my good luck charm.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “Flatterer. Go on, get back to work. I’ll be cheering you on from the garage.”

He steals one more kiss before heading back towards his team, leaving you shaking your head with a smile. As you turn to make your way to the Ferrari motorhome, a familiar face in the crowd stops you dead in your tracks.

Your ex-fiancé is standing just a few feet away, gawking at you with wide eyes. For a moment, you’re frozen, unsure how to react. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, since that disastrous almost-wedding day.

Before you can decide whether to acknowledge him or pretend you haven’t seen him, James is moving towards you, a strange mix of emotions playing across his face.

“Y/N?” He says, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Is that really you?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Hello, James.”

He looks you up and down, taking in your sleek outfit and the VIP pass hanging around your neck. “Wow. You look ... different. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with my partner,” you say simply, not feeling the need to elaborate.

James’ brow furrows. “Your partner? You mean like ... a business partner?”

You can’t help but laugh. “No, James. My partner. As in, the person I’m in a relationship with.”

His eyes widen comically. “You’re dating someone involved in Formula 1? Who?”

Before you can answer, a small group of fans approaches, their eyes lighting up as they spot you.

“Excuse me,” one of them says excitedly. “You’re Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, right? Could we please get a picture?”

You smile warmly at them. “Of course!”

As you pose for photos with the fans, exchanging a few friendship bracelets as well, you can see James out of the corner of your eye. He’s standing there, mouth agape, looking like he’s been hit over the head with a frying pan.

Once the fans move on, James practically pounces on you. “Charles Leclerc? You’re dating Charles Leclerc? How ... when ... what?”

You sigh, already tired of this conversation. “Yes, Charles and I have been together for a while now. Is there something else you needed?”

He shakes his head, still looking dazed. “I just ... I can’t believe it. How did this happen?”

“It’s a long story,” you say, not particularly wanting to rehash your past with him. “One I don’t really have time to get into right now.”

James seems to ignore your hint, his eyes narrowing. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t expect me to believe that you’re actually dating one of the best F1 drivers in the world. What’s really going on here?”

You feel a flash of anger at his dismissive tone. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, no offense,” James continues, oblivious to your growing irritation, “but last I knew, you couldn’t tell the difference between F1 and NASCAR. Now you’re supposedly dating a Ferrari driver? It doesn’t add up.”

You clench your fists, trying to keep your cool. “People change. They grow. They learn new things. Not that it’s any of your business.”

He scoffs. “Right. So I’m supposed to believe that in the few years since our ... since we last saw each other, you’ve not only become an F1 expert but also managed to snag one of the most eligible bachelors in the sport? Come on, Y/N. What’s the real story? Are you some kind of ... I don’t know, brand ambassador or something?”

Before you can respond, a warm hand settles on the small of your back. You look up to see Charles standing beside you, his expression a mix of concern and confusion.

“Everything okay here, mon amour?” He asks, his eyes flicking between you and James.

James’ jaw drops even further, if that’s possible. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.

You lean into Charles’ side, drawing strength from his presence. “Charles, this is James. My ex-fiancé. James, this is Charles. My boyfriend.”

Charles’ eyebrows shoot up in recognition, but he recovers quickly, extending a hand to James. “Nice to meet you,” he says politely, though there’s a hint of steel in his voice.

James just stares at the offered hand, then back at you, then at Charles again. “This ... this is a joke, right? Some kind of prank?”

Charles drops his hand, frowning. “I assure you, it’s not a joke. Y/N and I have been together for over two years now.”

James shakes his head vehemently. “No. No way. This doesn’t make any sense. Y/N, what are you playing at?”

You feel your patience snap. “I’m not playing at anything. Charles and I are together. We’re happy. I’m sorry if that’s difficult for you to comprehend, but it’s the truth.”

“But ... but how?” James sputters. “How did this even happen?”

Charles tightens his arm around you, a small smirk playing at his lips. “Well, if you must know, I found her wandering the streets in a wedding dress, crying her eyes out because her fiancé was a cheating bastard.”

James blanches, his face turning an interesting shade of purple. “That’s ... that’s not ... you can’t just ...”

“Can’t what?” You challenge, feeling emboldened by Charles’ support. “Can’t move on? Can’t find happiness with someone who actually respects me? Can’t build a life that doesn’t revolve around you?”

A small crowd has started to gather, attracted by the rising voices and the presence of Charles Leclerc. You can see people whispering, phones discreetly pointed in your direction.

James seems to notice the attention too, his eyes darting around nervously. “Look, Y/N, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but-”

“It’s not a game,” you interrupt, your voice firm. “This is my life. A life I’m very happy with, I might add. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Charles has a race to prepare for.”

You start to turn away, but James grabs your arm. “Wait, just ... just tell me the truth. Is this some kind of revenge? Did you set this all up to get back at me?”

Charles tenses beside you, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I suggest you remove your hand,” he says, his voice low and controlled.

James lets go as if burned, taking a step back. “I just ... I don’t understand. How could you … with him?”

You take a deep breath, deciding to end this once and for all. “James, listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once. What happened between us was years ago. I’ve moved on. I’ve built a life I love, with a man I love. Your inability to believe that says far more about you than it does about me.”

You turn to Charles, softening your voice. “Come on, love. You need to get back to the team.”

Charles nods, pressing a kiss to your temple before addressing James one last time. “It was ... interesting meeting you. Enjoy the race.”

As you walk away, leaving a stunned James in your wake, you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Well, that was ... something.”

Charles chuckles, squeezing your hand. “You handled that beautifully, mon cœur. Though I have to admit, I was tempted to deck him when he grabbed you.”

You lean into him, smiling. “My hero. But I think leaving him standing there like a fish out of water was far more satisfying.”

As you approach the Ferrari garage, you pause, turning to face Charles. “Thank you,” you say softly. “For being there, for backing me up. For ... everything, really.”

Charles cups your face gently, his green eyes full of love. “Always. You know I’ve got your back, just like you’ve always had mine.”

You stretch up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, you know that?”

He grins, that boyish smile that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. “I love you too. Now, how about we go win a race, yeah?”

As you enter the garage hand in hand, the organized chaos of the team preparing for the race enveloping you, you can’t help but marvel at the twists and turns that led you here. From the lowest point of your life to the highest — all because a kind stranger couldn’t leave a crying bride on the street.

You squeeze Charles’ hand one more time before he heads off to his car. As you watch him go, you silently thank whatever twist of fate brought him into your life that night. The road hasn’t always been smooth, but you wouldn’t change a single moment of it.

After all, sometimes the best love stories start with a broken heart and end with a chequered flag.

[lovelettersfromluna]

Welcome to the Party

Summary: what’s worse than your older brother?…..his extremely attractive best friend

an: this Ellie has been living rent fucking free in my head and I absolutely cannot carry on any longer without writing about her…..also my last Ellie fic was sickly sweet I need some mean!Ellie to soothe the burn 😌 (also credit to @absdoll for writing Ellie as someone who listens to PartyNextDoor?? That is a HUGE reason that inspired me to write this bc that is absolutely so very accurate)

Warnings: SMUT!!! MDNI!!! 18+ ONLY!!, angst!, toxic!Ellie, mean!Ellie, brothersbestfriend!Ellie, Ellie is just all around a piece of shit in this one idk, oral (r!receiving), mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, Usage of the word slut, slight degradation, there’s a brief scene with reader and Jesse but they aren’t flirting I promise Ellie is just delusional, pls lmk if I missed anything!

“Please honeybee? It’ll only be for a little while. Your father and I will be back before you know it, just in time for you to go back with your friends” your mothers voice rang through the phone, her tone gentle and reassuring as she spoke to you.

You exhaled loudly in annoyance, toying with the hem of your sleep shorts as you laid in your bed, a soft pout on your face as you stayed silent for a moment, contemplating your mother’s wish.

“Baby? Are you there?” She tried. You can practically hear the way she bites her lip, chewing on the skin as she awaited your response.

“I….you do realize that Derek is the oldest sibling, right? Isn’t he supposed to be the one making sure I’m not getting in trouble?” You huff out, still holding out on giving her an answer to her request of you.

You hear her sigh over the line at the mention of your older brother. “I know sweetheart…but your father and I just need you to make sure he doesn’t burn the house down while we’re away. I’m sure it’ll only be him and Ellie there anyways” she tries assuring you.

But the mention of the girls name has your skin running cold.

It makes you pinch the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply as you truly try to outweigh your options at hand.

Your brother was a fucking moron, and you knew that the minute he heard your parents were going away for the summer, he jumped at the opportunity to ‘house sit’. It was almost comedic how clueless he was, your parents knowing your older sibling far too well to know that he’d tear the house down brick by brick unsupervised, especially with his partner in crime there with him.

So it left your poor mother to ask her baby (you), to stay the summer at their house, just to make sure things didn’t get too out of hand.

The minute she called and asked you to go down there, your entire summer had changed. All of the plans you made with your friends at university, the trips you were to make with them, all suddenly fizzled out as you were faced with the task to spend the summer with your idiotic brother and his bully of a best friend.

As much as you wanted to say no, tell your parents to figure it out or simply tell your brother he couldn’t stay there for his break, you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to do that. Your parents were amazing to say the least, and the one time they actually chose to go away for the summer in one of the first times since you were born, you’d feel like an absolute villain to take that away from them.

You let out a low sigh before you finally spoke. “I’ll be there mom….you won’t have to worry about anything” you assured her, the sound of her sighing in relief putting a gentle smile on your face.

“Oh baby you are an angel. Your father and will come home as soon as we can, okay?” She assures you, to which you give a gentle chuckle before you nod.

“Have fun, okay? Tell daddy I said hi…I love you” you mumble out gently through the phone, bidding your goodbye to the woman before you hang up, letting out a loud sigh you’d seemingly been holding from the moment your mother asked you to go back home for the summer.

And as you stared up at your ceiling, you began to really think about it all. How bad could it possibly be?? It wasn’t like you were all kids still, there was no way Ellie and your brother would torment you the same way they used to when you were all younger, not when you were all adults in college, right?

Right?

You let out a soft sigh as you drove down the familiar road to your parents house, the street quiet as everyone there had similar situations to your mother and father, empty nesters who had time to get away for the summer.

Pulling into the driveway gives you a bit of relief, as you notice your brother hadn’t gotten there yet, which you could only chalk up to him and Ellie waking up entirely too late after a night of partying to get to the house at a decent time.

Some things just never changed do they?

Your brother and Ellie had been friends since elementary school, the two of them glued at the hip for almost as long as you could remember. While you really couldn’t stand the two of them, you had to say the perseverance of their friendship was kind of remarkable. You couldn’t take their bond away from them, no one could.

One day the house was only filled with your parents and your older sibling, the next there’s an extra person.

Ellie.

Things were fine in the beginning, the three of you would actually play all together for the most part. Sure, they would tease you and leave you out of certain things, but that’s what older siblings did. You were no stranger to the little sister treatment.

Things changed when they got to high school though.

The two of them started a year before you obviously, leaving you behind in middle school. You’d been through it with the transition from elementary to middle school, so you weren’t too worried. In fact, having the two of them enrolled before you was comforting in a way. It at least gave you a sense of belonging since you knew at least two people there.

But oh were you wrong.

Because in true teenage boy fashion, who the hell would want their little sister trailing behind them? No your brother and Ellie were far too cool for that, the two of them already the talk of the entire school, everyone wanting to be their friend. It was always like that, the dynamic duo absolutely stealing the hearts of everyone around them. They simply couldn’t have you asking for help on where your classes were, or even worse, having you eat lunch with them.

You weren’t even given the cold shoulder, they were just outright mean. Your brother wasn’t so bad, brushing you off and telling you to go somewhere else.

But Ellie? Oh she was vile.

She’d say the meanest things to get you to leave, laughing under her breath whenever you’d pass by, she’d even go out of her way to make her entire friend group ignore you for a week, pretending you didn’t exist at all.

Yeah, high school is when things got really bad.

You have up on keeping the familiar sibling bond you had with your brother rather quickly during your time in high school with him, ignoring the both of them when they were around, only really interacting with him whenever Ellie wasn’t with him, which was extremely rare.

Soon, you were going off to university, and you were able to live a life that wasn’t in your cool older brother’s shadow. You were able to be you, and thrive in a way that you really weren’t able to before.

You loved college for that.

But now you were back home where it all started, without the protection of mommy and daddy on top of that too.

You groaned softly as you finally brought the last of your things up to your room, sighing softly as you looked around at the familiar space, thinking about just how much time you’d be spending there for the next month and however many weeks.

You were almost done filling your empty drawers with your clothes when you heard the familiar roar of your brother’s black Jeep pull up the driveway outside, a familiar brunette sat in the passenger seat.

The plan was to steer clear of them entirely while you were all there. You were only there for your moms peace of mind, and you truthfully did not care what Ellie and your brother got up to for the summer, as long as it meant your parents house stayed in tact.

However once you’re finished packing and you decide to make your way downstairs to get a feel for things before they both arrive (or so you thought), you were only met with the sound of your brother and Ellie complaining very loudly as they walk in through the front door.

“I told you I don’t know! My dad said it was cool if we crashed here, they didn’t mention anything about her being here too.” Derek groans loudly, lugging his suitcase in behind him, unknowing of your presence stood in the very kitchen that he was walking in to.

You turn your head to catch the two of them walking in, your brother sighing in defeat as Ellie groans loudly behind him, throwing her head back in annoyance. “Do you know how much of a fuckin’ cock block she’s gonna be? I swear to god if she tries to so much as complain about the shit we’re having I’m gonna-“ you watch as your brother jabs his elbow into Ellie’s side, trying to get her to shut up once he spots you in the kitchen.

You roll your eyes as you close the fridge door shut. “It’s nice to see you too Ellie” you sigh out softly as you turn around, resting your forearms against the island counter top, leaning your hips against the edge as you watch the both of them eye you expectantly, your best guess being they wanted an explanation.

“What are you doing here?” Your brother mumbles out awkwardly, arms crossing over his chest as he gives neglects to even greet you properly.

You sigh softly before you shrug. “Mom called me and asked me to make sure you guys didn’t do anything stupid. Trust me, I’m just as upset as you are that I’m here” you mumble out, eyes casting downwards as your fingers trace along the pattern of the smooth counter top.

Ellie scoffs softly, mimicking your brother’s stance as her tattooed arms go to cross over her chest as well. “Is this some kind of sick joke? What are you even supposed to do anyways? Keep us in line or something?” Ellie barks out, obviously annoyed and wounded over the fact that your parents didn’t trust her.

You have to hold back a laugh, biting down on your bottom lip as you give her a shrug. “That’s something you gotta take up with the owner of the house, which unfortunately for you is not my brother” you hum out, your tone a tad playful as you give your brother a knowing look before rounding the table.

“Your summer is gonna be fine. In all honesty I couldn’t give a single fuck what you two do, just do it without breaking anything.” you explain, your tone softer as you eye Ellie for a moment.

You had to bite back a smirk when you caught a glimpse of their faces. Your brother was shocked with the way you were acting, his eyebrows raised and jaw slightly agape as you made your way upstairs.

Ellie on the other hand? She looked like she wanted to kill someone. Here you were, her best friends little sister, practically granting her entire summer a death sentence by your presence, at least that’s what it felt like. Her eyebrows were furrowed, nostrils flared, and you swore you could even catch her freckled cheeks growing pink with the anger that bubbled up inside of her.

And to be quite honest? It felt good.

Ellie was being ruthless

While you couldn’t say you didn’t expect it, you didn’t think it would be this bad. You of course knew that they’d be upset about you being there, but your brother’s reaction to the entire thing was much closer to what you prepared for than what Ellie was exhibiting. He was confused to say the least, but that didn’t mean he was rude to you. It was the same as any other time you and your brother were with each other, you weren’t close by any means, but you were his little sister.

Ellie on the other hand? She was like a bat out of hell.

You thought when they first got there, that would be the only time you’d get a taste of Ellie’s annoyance with your presence. You were adults after all, and there was no way she’d make your entire stay there a living hell, even when you weren’t the one that had the bright idea of staying there anyways.

Oh were you wrong.

That same night, you decided to make somewhat of a peace offering. You were honest in your words to them earlier, you didn’t have any interest in raining on their parade. Ruining their summer did little to nothing for you, even if they went out of their way to taunt and tease you when you were a kid, you didn’t dwell on any of that.

You prided yourself as somewhat of a good cook. You took over meals once you were old enough to stand at the stove without your parents doting over you, begging you to not burn yourself. Once you passed that hurdle, you all came to the realization that you were pretty good in the kitchen. You could even recall certain times where Ellie and your brother would ask you to make something for them, further proving your skills.

So while they were both in the front yard playing basketball, you knew they’d work up an appetite once they came inside. You took it upon yourself to start working on something with what your parents had in the fridge.

You were far too lost in thought once you got into it, humming softly to yourself as you stirred up what you were working on in a pan. You barely heard your brother and Ellie walk in together, chucking to each other at something Ellie was saying. The two were engulfed in the aroma of your yummy cooking the second they walked in, watching as you worked your way around the kitchen to cook something up for the two of them.

“You cooked?” Your brother asks curiously, moving to rest his forearms on the island as he watched you.

You hummed softly as you nodded, keeping your eyes on the various pots on the stove. “There wasn’t much in the fridge, so I’ll have to go food shopping tomorrow maybe…but I figured you’d both be hungry” you finally turn around, giving them both a half smile.

Your brother nodded, seemingly opening his mouth to thank you for the kind gesture, his stomach already grumbling for a taste of whatever it was that you were cooking, all of it smelling ten times better than anything he’d been eating for the past two years at college.

But Ellie was quick to cut him off, eyebrows furrowed as she gave you a death stare so intense, it was a miracle you hadn’t keeled over from it alone.

“We’re going out to eat” she deadpanned, her tone firm and harsh.

It makes you turn around fully after lowering all the spots on the stove, grabbing the kitchen towel you kept nearby and drying your hands off, your hips resting against the kitchen counter as you watched them.

Your brother frowned as he looked up at Ellie in confusion, the man clearly not have gotten the memo.

“We…are?….but you were just saying how tired-“ He mumbled out softly before Ellie landed a hard jab to his side with her elbow, making your brother quickly shut his mouth, getting her message loud and clear.

Ellie didn’t want anything from you.

You inhaled deeply, fighting back the urge to stoop down to her level, no matter how much it stung that she was doing this out of spite, simply over something that was asked of you.

“That’s…that’s fine. I hope you guys have fun” you gave them a nod and a soft smile before you turned around to continue working on the food that you’d be eating alone.

Ellie’s angry expression softened into a frown when you didn’t fight back, fully expecting you blow up and make her seem like the victim who’s getting her summer ruined by some fucking she-demon or something. But you didn’t, you simply bid them a good time and turned around to busy yourself with whatever you were doing.

Your brother frowned as he watched you turn around, already feeling bad for not only leaving you alone for the night, but making you eat alone felt even worse.

But Ellie was already scoffing, mumbling softly to your brother to come upstairs with her so they could get changed and leave so they could get something to eat, her eyes lingering on you angrily as she stomped upstairs like a child.

You spent that night alone, eating your dinner with a glass of wine, showering and watching a movie downstairs, silently hoping the pair would have a change of heart and walk through to spend the night with you, acting as a way to kick off the summer on a better note than it was already starting off on.

But they never did. You ended up doing all of that and more and they still didn’t get home. You decided to simply send your brother a quick text letting them know you’d leave the porch light on and to get home safe before you went to bed.

That wasn’t the end of Ellie’s little scheme of being terrible to you. No, that was honestly only the beginning.

The second time of her being mean was about a week later. You managed to stay clear of the both of them for a few days, busying yourself with getting the house situated for yours, Ellie and your brothers stay. You got a good amount of things done, groceries, laundry, getting your car through the car wash. You even picked up a dozen bagels from yours and your brother’s favorite bakery in the city nearby, knowing how much him and Ellie would appreciate them for breakfast, even if you knew she’d bitch once she knew you bought them.

But once all of those chores were done, you found that you’d started to run out of things to keep you occupied. There was no more laundry to do, no more groceries to buy, nothing more for you to tend to that would keep you away from the house.

You were bored out of your mind.

You sighed softly as you laid in your bed, staring up at your ceiling as you toyed with the hem of your denim shorts. You were contemplating what to do, how to entertain yourself in the confides of your bedroom. It was hard because Ellie and Derek spent almost all of their time in the living room, leaving you to either do things outside of the house, or stay in your room.

It made you sad, because you wouldn’t have this problem had you stayed at Uni. You would’ve been outside with your friends, at parties, restaurants, bars. Anything that there was to offer in the city, you’d be there.

Another huff passed through your lips, your arms moving down to rest against your pillow. You were beginning to get desperate, your mind void of any ideas to keep yourself occupied.

You sat up, looking towards your door for a moment before you looked back down at your hands in your lap, your mind falling deep in thought before you finally let out a sigh. You felt ridiculous, forcing yourself to be a prisoner in your own home for your own comfort. Ellie didn’t even fucking live here, this was your parents house and you deserved to walk around as you pleased!

So you finally tossed your legs over the edge of your bed, and opened your door to go downstairs.

The second your room door was open, you could hear Derek and Ellie downstairs, the two of them laughing and shouting at each other. As you walked down the stairs, you could hear the sounds of their video game playing through the speakers, paired with the sound of their fingers harshly clicking down on the buttons of their game controllers.

Video games sounded fun.

You hummed softly as you watched them from the bottom of the stairs for a moment before you walked into the living room, simply watching the two hunched over, completely locked in on their current match.

“Don’t fuckin’ push by yourself you’re gonna die. Lemme just heal really quick” you hear Ellie groan out to your brother.

“I’m good! I’m good I got this” your brothers words follow, a blanket of silence falls between the two of them, only to hear your brother and Ellie groan loudly in unison, followed by Ellie sucking her teeth in annoyance.

“I told you not to fucking-“ her words are cut short when she notices you in the corner of her eye, the girl deflating as she slouches back into the couch, her eyes back on the screen.

“Great…” she mumbles out, which you try your best to ignore before taking a spot on the opposite end of the couch, tucking your legs underneath yourself as you nod towards the tv.

“How many have you guys won so far?” You hum out softly.

Your brother’s eyes don’t leave the tv screen as he responds, fingers already clicking away at his controller the second Ellie managed to resurrect him in the game. “A good amount…especially when Ellie’s here to save my ass” he grins out, which earns an annoyed sigh from Ellie.

You hum softly as you nod, watching as their characters run around on the split screen, the two of them looting and taking out other players as the number of people in the game grows lower and lower, waiting until the game was almost over.

“Could you guys use a third?” You ask softly after clearing your throat, eyes still glued to the screen as you watch them play.

Derek licks his lips as he continues playing, his eyes quickly shifting over to Ellie for a moment to gauge her reaction to your question before he responds.

You and him would play video games all the time together, and there were even times where all three of you would play together. Sure, they’d do petty shit like leave your character in the storm to die when you needed help or made sure your controller was close to dying, but they’d at least let you play from time to time.

However, Ellie was quick to speak up and give you a response.

“No. You’re shit at this game” Ellie quickly responds, pink tongue sticking out of her mouth as she concentrates on the game.

While you can tell she’s not joking, her words make your brother chuckle softly as he gives her a gentle nudge. “I’m sure one game is fine? Watching her play will be kind of funny to be honest” he tried, yet Ellie wouldn’t budge.

She shook her head firmly. “Nah. She’s gonna fuck up our winning streak. Weren’t you upstairs anyway? Why did you even come down here….go back up” her eyes finally break away from the screen once the game was finished, looking over at you and nodding her head up towards the stairs.

And while Ellie would sometimes chase you away when she was over, it was always in good fun. Sure she was a dick to you but this?

This was so different.

It makes you choke up a bit, eyes widening at her words before you look at your brother, silently begging for him to defend you from the girls mean words.

But he doesn’t, he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes and grabbing his own phone to scroll through it so he wouldn’t have to be put into the awkward situation of getting between his sister and his best friend.

It makes you inhale deeply before you silently get up from the couch, slip past the two of them, and make your way back upstairs like Ellie told you to, your throat burning with hot tears as you tried your best to hide them from the pair on the couch.

Your brother finally looked up when you slipped passed the two of them, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he eyed Ellie. “I know she’s annoying but…that was kind of fucked up man” he mumbles out softly, his eyes lingering on Ellie for a moment only to watch her shrug, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“Shut up. She wouldn’t leave unless I was mean…” she mumbled out nonchalantly, which makes your brother sigh softly, turning his head back to the screen and starting another game.

You realized that this wasn’t a game. This was Ellie being awful to you for the sole fact that you were staying there and being a ‘cock block’, and in her book? That was more than enough of a reason to take her anger out on you.

It made you take one look at your bedroom when you finally got upstairs, tears in your eyes, when you realized that you had to get quite comfortable there, seeing as you’d be spending far more time locked up than you thought you would have.

You managed to avoid Ellie and your brother for the remainder of the week, for real this time. You had no interest in being around them or spending any time with them, not since Ellie made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you were the bane of her very existence.

You decided that they could spend their summer like they wanted to, without you there.

Any time you needed something from downstairs, you’d either go and get it extremely early in the morning or late enough at night so that they wouldn’t be there, which was hard sometimes since they’d spend almost the entire night downstairs, drinking beers and eating snacks until they were too tired to go in anymore.

Tonight was different though.

Because tonight was the first Saturday of the summer, which meant anyone and everyone was looking towards your brother and Ellie for a party to kick things off. You knew they’d do it of course, but you knew it was actually happening once you could hear the faint noise of the two of them setting up downstairs, paired with the roaring sound of your brothers Jeep pulling in and out of the driveway, making multiple runs to the store for last minutes things for the party.

And your plan for the night? You were going to shower early to avoid any awkward drunk run-ins, take a melatonin, lock your room door, and fall asleep with your noise canceling headphones underneath a mountain of blankets. While it would be nice to let loose and party for a night, you wouldn’t dare even ask them if you could attend, already knowing Ellie would have quite the mean words in store if you tried that.

On the bright side, this all meant you were responsible for the clean up in the morning.

You let out a soft sigh as you tugged on a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized t shirt, moving to grab your bottle of melatonin gummies before you moved to sit on the bed, wanting to wind down a bit before bed.

Right as you were about to take your vitamin and lock your door though, you heard a gentle knock, making you frown as you looked over at it. Surly the party hadn’t started yet? Did you seriously have to put a note on your door to alert drunk idiots that your room was off limits for hook ups?

You frowned before calling out. “Go away! There are other rooms!” You called out loud enough, hoping that whoever was on the other side would get the memo.

Instead, you hear the knob turn, the door creaking open as your brother peaks his head in, making you sigh in relief.

“Oh…I thought you were some idiot party-goer” you explain as you scrunch your nose at the mere thought of it before you unscrew the top to your bottle. “What are you doing here? You have a party to host” you explain before you look up at him, only to find his eyes wandering your bedroom before he shrugs.

“Wanted to check on you…make sure you’re okay” he explains before he finally looks down at you, nodding towards the bottle of melatonin in your hand. “Going to bed already?” He asks, which you nod to.

“Yup…trying to get a heard start before the noise sets in” you hum out softly before you bring one of the gummies to your lips.

Your brother quickly speaks up before you can take it. “You should come down…for a little bit. It’ll be fun” he quickly gets out before you eat it. He knew the moment you took it, you’d be lulled away to sleep, and there was no chance in him reconciling with you tonight.

Because in all honesty, he felt horrible for the way Ellie had been treating you. Not only did he fear you’d tell your parents (he knew you wouldn’t), but he also felt like he was being a shit big brother for not standing up for you, even if he knew that you knew it was a tricky situation since Ellie was his best friend.

Your shoulders slump at his words, giving your brother an unamused look.

“Your friend wouldn’t even let me play video games with you. Do you seriously think she’d allow me to come down tonight l?” You groan out softly before you shake your head, bringing the gummy to your lips once again. “I’m gonna go to bed. I don’t have time for either of you” you sigh softly.

Your eyes widen when your brother steps forward and slaps the gummy from your hand. “What the hell Derek??” You shriek out, which only makes him groan in annoyance.

“It’ll be fun! And Ellie will be too drunk or high or both to even notice you’re there…” he whines out like a child, which makes you roll your eyes.

A blanket of silence falls between the both of you as you think about it, weighing out the pros and the cons of going downstairs and joining everyone, risking the chance of Ellie blowing up on you the second she sees you there, assuming you’re attending for the sole purpose of shutting down her fun.

Derek sighs softly as he moves to sit down next to you on your bed. “I’ve been a shitty older brother…and you deserve to have fun this summer too” he hums out softly before he leans over, nudging your shoulder gently with his.

“Come on…it’ll be fun” he urges once more, and it reminds you of when you were both kids, your brother slowly turning into the person that you recognized rather than the person he was whenever he was around Ellie or his other friends.

You finally sigh out softly before looking over at him, giving him a slight nod. “I’ll change and come down once I hear the music start playing…I’m sure that gives her enough time to get her drunk goggles on” you hum out playfully as you refer to Ellie.

Your brother smiles brightly, his mimicking your own before he nods. “You’re gonna have fun” he affirms once more before he gets up to leave your bedroom, closing the door behind him so he could get downstairs and finish setting up.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you look down at your clothes, frowning at the faded band t shirt paired with the frayed ends of your old sleep shorts.

You needed to change.

It wasn’t long until you could hear the faint sound of the loud music booming through the house, paired with the various cars that slowly started piling up in your driveway and along the side of the ride in front of your house, the party guests making their way to your place like clockwork.

You had changed into a pair of baggy blue jeans that hung low on your waist, and a simple white tank top hugged your curves in a way that looked like you put in way more effort that you actually did, wanting to keep things comfortable enough that you could slip out of it the second you wanted to dessert the place for the safe haven that was your bedroom.

The party was in fully swing by the time you made your way downstairs, a person filling up everyone single space as music blasted loudly throughout the entire place. You inhaled deeply, slipping past the growing sea of people to get to the kitchen, and get a drink.

Your eyes scanned the space as you stayed leaned up against the counter, red solo cup pressed against your lips as you babysat the mixture of liquid and soda, people watching as everyone around you became acquainted with one another, your drink making you grow warmer and warmer with each passing second.

Like a stroke of luck, you catch an empty spot on the once full couch. It makes you sigh in relief, once again slipping past the bodies in your house to catch it before someone else does, which you thankfully do. You plop down onto it, bringing your cup to your lips as you rest your head against the back of the couch.

You didn’t even realize how drunk you were until Jesse, one of your brother’s old friends plops down next to you with a loud sigh. The second he was next to you, the strong smell of weed was filling up your lungs, you swore you felt the tiniest bit high from the smell alone.

“If I so much as smell a blunt, your tv is gonna grow legs and start walking away” he groaned out, making you stifle a laugh.

The sound catches his attention, the man turning his head to look at you, his hazy expression slowly tugging into a smile.

“Nooo way. I remember you! You’re Derek’s little sister” he gasps out, which makes you hold back a laugh before you nod.

“I am in fact his sister” you confirm.

To be frankly honest, you’d known Jesse since high school. He was pretty close with Ellie and Derek, he was actually the only one out of the group of gremlins that was actually kind to you whenever they were all around. However he was currently so far gone, he could barely remember that you two already knew each other.

“Maaan I haven’t seen you in so long! He didn’t tell me you’d be here” he chuckles softly, bringing his hands to his face as he groans softly.

“I’m…I’m sorry I’m so high right now. I can barely think” he apologizes, the man visibly melting into the couch as he lets his hands fall down beside him, staring off into space.

You giggle softly as you shake your head, bringing your cup to your lips as you take another sip of your drink. “You’re fine Jesse…the companies nice” you nod before you rest your head back against the back of the couch, allowing Jesse to carry on with his belligerent complaints.

You were so consumed with Jesse’s rather entertaining word vomit, that you barely noticed a certain someone eyeing you from the other side of the couch.

Ellie had been there the entire time, too high and too drunk (like your brother said she’d be) to even notice you had taken a spot at the end of the couch. It also didn’t help that she had her current summer fling splayed across her lap, her lips pressed to the girls mouth as they practically swallowed each other’s faces whole.

And she wouldn’t have noticed you either, had it not been for the familiar sound of your giggle ringing through her ear, barely audible over the sound of the loud music booming through the house.

At first she thought she was hearing things, ignoring the noise and carrying on with working her tongue against the girl’s against her. However the second time she heard it, it was paired with a low groan that she could only recognize as Jesse’s, and once she heard that? She had no choice but to break her lips away from the girls, instead allowing her to work her lips against her neck.

The image of your head resting against the back of the couch, looking up at Jesse as his face seemingly lays inches away from yours, your eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room, the edge of your solo cup resting against your pouty bottom lip as you listen intently at whatever Jesse is saying…

Makes Ellie want to punch a fucking hole in the wall.

Because what the fuck is Jesse doing talking to Derek’s little sister? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to make you laugh that way when everyone knows you’re off limits? The unspoken rule being something everyone had to follow…

No matter how pretty you got as you grew up.

Ellie suddenly can’t pay any attention to the pretty girl on her lap, her grip on the girls hips tightening with anger as she watches you smile lazily at Jesse, the drink in your cup clearly making you far too soft and pliable to be talking to someone like Jesse.

There’s suddenly a fire burning in her, one that begs for you to look up and see what she’s doing, see that she has a girl on her lap that isn’t you. She wants you to see her kissing the girl, gripping her hips and positioning her however she pleases.

Ellie feels the need to make you jealous

But you never do. Ellie watches the both of you for what feels like an eternity, and you don’t once look up and lock eyes for her, not even for a second. She’s sure you’re obvious to the fact that she’s even there, far too consumed with whatever the fuck it was that Jesse was telling you, which couldn’t be anything good of course, it was Jesse of all people.

The girl on her lap is getting antsy, tugging at the bottom of Ellie’s shirt, slipping her hand underneath it to run along the skin of her hips, lips itching up her skin to get back to Ellie’s mouth, anything to have the attention that has suddenly been locked into something else.

Ellie doesn’t budge of course, her stone cold gaze stuck on you across the chair, a few feet away from her as Jesse chats you up,

She doesn’t even know why she’s staring. She can’t pin point why seeing you do something as simple as talk to someone else makes her blood boil to the point where she feels fucking light headed. All she knows is that she can’t take her eyes off of you, not when your attention is so dead set on someone else.

The girl on Ellie’s neck whines softly, her hand coming up to grip Ellie’s chin, pulling her down to finally lock lips with her. It makes Ellie groan, and to the girl it probably sounded like a groan of approval, a sign that Ellie liked that she was taking what she wanted from her. In reality, it was Ellie being fucking annoyed.

Ellie kisses her hard, trying her best to shut her up and keep her satisfied so she can break away and keep an eye on you.

You sigh softly, lifting your head a bit to turn and look down into your cup, noticing it had become empty in the span of talking to Jesse. While doing that, you realized how drunk you had gotten from the drink you made, a lazy giggle leaving your lips as you shook your head towards Jesse.

“I’m…way too drunk…I need to go to bed” you sigh out, resting your hand Jesse’s thigh as you give him a gentle pat. “Try to sober up before you go home if you do end up leaving….was nice seeing you Jesse” you smile at him, only receiving a soft groan of agony before he lazily waved you off, making you giggle softly before you got up off the couch, stumbling a bit before making your way around it to go upstairs.

As you round the corner, oblivious to Ellie’s presence, you don’t at all notice the way her eyes trail your path even as her lips work angrily against the girl in her lap.

Or the way she breaks the kiss once you’re out of view, pushing the girl off her lap as her legs begin carrying her up to follow you. “I’ll be right back…” she mumbles out to the girl, completely ignoring the way she scoffs once she realizes Ellie was following another girl.

She slips past the crowd of people as she trails close behind you, watching as you fail to even realize the way certain eyes follow your path, eyes that don’t belong to her, eyes that have filthy thoughts behind them, only fueling her anger further.

It’s like a shark stalking their prey. You’re a dumb, innocent little fish with not a care in the world, happily swimming around other little seat creatures as an apex predator slowly sticks onto your tail, following you to your demise. You’re bouncing around, giggling softly as you stumble over your own feet, so stupid from the liquor you had, you’d barely even noticed Ellie was following you.

Soon, you’re up the stairs and in front of your bedroom door. You reached up, standing on your toes to get to the little key you left on the top of your door after you locked it before going downstairs, ensuring no one would so much as think to use your bed as a hook up station.

You opened it up, sighing softly as you closed it behind you, moving over to your drawer to grab the pajamas you had folded earlier, wanting nothing more to change into them and get some much needed sleep now that the alcohol had settled in and warmed up your entire system.

Ellie hears you humming softly to yourself as she opens up your door. She isn’t even entirely sure what her motive is with this, why she felt the need to follow you all the way up to your room, and to on top of that walk in. It wasn’t like you were in any sort of danger, you weren’t out on the street late at night all alone, or even at a party at a strangers house. You were a smart girl, even going as far as to lock your door before and after leaving to go downstairs.

Not smart enough to lock it before Ellie could come in though.

You frown softly when you hear your door open, fully prepared to start screaming for your brother the second some creep tried to come in to your room.

You don’t have to though, because the second you realize that it’s Ellie standing at your door and not some fucking weirdo, you let out a small sigh of relief.

Which quickly turns into panic once you realize that it’s Ellie standing in your doorway.

“Ellie? What are you doing here?” You question the girl, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you let out a soft sigh.

You can hear it already, the way Ellie is gearing up to degrade and berate you for even thinking it was okay to come out of your room and down to the party. You mentally prepare yourself for the nasty things she’ll say, for the way she’ll go above and beyond to ensure you never even think to come down and attend another one of hers and your brothers parties ever again.

But she doesn’t speak, not immediately at least.

You watch as she crosses her arms over her chest, tattooed forearms making her look all the more intimidating. Her eyes roam your bedroom as she slowly steps in to take in more of the space after she closes your door behind her.

“It’s nice in here…you should’ve stayed put…would have worked out better for you” she hums out, her tone a bit too casual for the bite that her words manage to get out of you.

It makes you sigh softly, bringing your hand up to rub against your forehead before you speak up. “It was Derek’s idea, okay? And I was barely even down there. I didn’t even talk to anyone” you explain to the girl.

She raises her eyebrows, green eyes settling on you as she watches you in surprise.

“Didn’t talk to anyone hm? Then what the fuck were you doing with Jesse? Huh?” She barks out, the level of her voice making you flinch.

If you were confused before, this has you in shambles. Your frown deepens as your eyebrows furrow, watching the girl before you quickly speak up to defend yourself.

“With Jesse? Ellie I…we talked for maybe thirty minutes? And all he was telling me was how much he was greening out I…are you serious right now??” You shriek out, watching as the girl slowly made her way towards you.

She ignores your explanation. “Do you know how fucking desperate you look? Clinging on to mine and Derek’s friends?” She spits out, her tone growing angrier and more vile with each word she utters.

And she’s getting closer to you the more she speaks too.

“It’s fuckin’ pathetic. You’re fucking pathetic. Don’t you get tired of this? Isn’t this boring to you?” She questions, tone dripping with annoyance and anger as she keeps going, keeps pushing you.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen her like this. She’s fuming with something you don’t recognize and it makes your eyes widen, lips parting slightly as you try to find the words to say before they quickly close once she continues on with her nasty words.

That’s wide eyed look on your face lights a fire under Ellie that tells her to keep going.

She’s right in front of you now, her nose inches away from yours as she lets out an unamused chuckle, a soft smirk on her face.

“You’re such a fucking slut…you know that? Begging for attention from your brother’s friends….” She hums out softly, her pink tongue slipping out of her mouth to wet her lips slowly. You can barely stop yourself from your eyes shifting down to watch the way she does it, only earning a soft chuckle from the girl.

“Did you go to him because you saw I was busy baby? Is that it?” Her tone is still taunting you, but it’s softer, her voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly you feel her strong hands snake their way around your waist, pulling you slowly but harshly against her body, making you gasp softly at the sudden and foreign feeling of her body pressed against yours, all of it consuming you too much to even register what it was she was accusing you of.

Her eyes are taking in your features. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, as if she were silently begging you for something you couldn’t completely give her, something more.

“If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask” she sighs out softly.

And it’s like you aren’t even there anymore, because once she says that, her lips are pressed against yours in a hot, needy kiss.

Your eyes widened at the feeling of her lips on yours. For a minute you even questioned if you were dreaming, because surly there was no world where this would be happening, one in which Ellie would be kissing you.

You gasped out softly, trying to break away from the girl to ask what exactly it was that she was doing, but she only takes this as an advantage to slip her tongue into your mouth.

The feeling of her wet tongue against yours has you melting, your eyes fluttering shut as suddenly any and all questions and concerns you previously had disappear from your head, the only thought present being how good it felt to have Ellie kissing you.

You finally get a moment to speak when you feel Ellie break the kiss so that her lips could trail down your throat, licking and sucking your skin as her hands grip your hips tightly, fingers rubbing against the exposed skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans.

“Ellie…what are you…” you manage to get out between moans, enjoying the feeling of the means girls lips against your throat far too much.

“Shut up…just shut the fuck up…” her words are muffled against your skin.

You can feel her walking you back towards your bed, allowing her to push you back onto it and crawl over your body once you’re both there. That’s when her lips attach themselves back onto yours, her hand coming down to skillfully unbutton your jeans, which gives her a chance to cup your pussy, feeling your arousal soaked panties.

She smirks against your lips, the pads of her fingers pressing against your clothed clit as she gives you a hum of approval.

“Wet already? Over one little kiss? God that’s pathetic…” she chuckles out softly as she degrades you for it, which somehow only sends more warmth shooting down your core.

“It’s alright baby…I’ll take care of you..” she hums softly against your lips before she starts kissing down your body.

Her lips swirl your nipples over the fabric of your tank top, the material growing wet with her saliva. It’s strange because the feeling is almost more erotic than if she were to do it with your top off. Maybe it’s how eager she is for it? For whatever it was she was planning on doing to you?

You had no idea. But you knew it felt good.

She does this until she’s settled between your legs, your denim jeans already long gone, her eyes zeroed in on the growing damp spot on your panties. You’re propped up on your elbows, watching closely as the girl who you were convinced hated you, stares down at your pussy like it’s her last fucking meal.

“You’re soaked baby…fuck…” she sighs out, her tattooed hand coming up to slowly run her index and middle fingers along your slit, the feeling alone making you gasp out before moaning for her.

That makes Ellie smirk, her stormy green eyes flickering up to catch your expressions as her fingers circle your clit slowly. “Yeah? You like that don’t you pretty girl…you want more?” She questions, her voice so soft and sweet, yet dripping with the urge to tease and humiliate you.

It was so confusing, because you didn’t know what it was that you wanted. You’d grown to view Ellie as someone who disliked you, deeply in fact. You always saw her as a figure of hate and annoyance towards you rather than someone who could ever in their wildest dreams be in this current situation with you.

But it felt so good, it felt so fucking right to have her settled between your legs, her fingers circling your clit slowly, making your head spin, making you feel so dizzy you felt like you’d cry if your aching pussy didn’t have some form of attention from her.

“Answer me…” she practically growls out when you take too long to respond, her dark eyes growing even darker as she awaits your confirmation.

Her tone along breaks you out of your thoughts, and before you can even think all of this through, consider the consequences that will follow a drunk hook up with Ellie?…

You’re nodding like a fucking bobble head.

“Want it so bad Ellie…please….please touch me” you practically beg, hips bucking for the attention you craved.

You didn’t even for a second stop to think what her motives were. Ellie was mean, and she could be really fucking mean when she wanted to. Who’s to say this wasn’t all a sick joke? One that she’d laugh at hysterically just to get you to say you wanted her, weaponizing the way you begged for her in any instance she could use to keep you in line.

“Good girl…relax baby…I’ll make you feel real good..” she hums out, her gentle words tugging you away from your intrusive thoughts.

Her fingers tug your panties to the side, an audible groan rumbling from her chest as she finally gets a glimpse as your soaked core.

“Fuckin’ look at that…pussy’s practically drooling for me baby…Jesus” she sighs out softly.

For a moment, you think she’s going to leave. Because in the dim light of your bedroom, you watch as she pushes her fingers into her mouth. You watch her with a confused frown as you hear a small click, paired with a gentle buzzing sound.

But once Ellie finally latches her mouth to your pussy, you can feel the foreign feeling of a tiny ball in the middle of her tongue vibrating against your clit.

You don’t even have time to fully register what the actual fuck is going on, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes go wide for a moment before they flutter shut.

Ellie had a vibrating fucking tongue ring

The feeling has you moaning loudly, your head falling back as your back arches, feeding more of your throbbing cunt into Ellie’s mouth, which only makes her moan loudly against your sensitive core.

“Fuck! Ellie oh my god! Feels…h-huh….feels s’good” you gasp out, words broken up with huffs and moans as you struggle to speak.

You want to kick yourself for not noticing it moment ago when she had her tongue playing against yours, the feeling of the smooth ball lapping against the inside of your mouth, only to begging vibrating once she settled her mouth on your pussy.

She’s just as fucked out as you are when you finally look down at her, her eyes fluttered shut in what could only be viewed as pure bliss as she licks and sucks your pussy like a woman starved. The image alone makes you reach out and tug a fistful of her hair into your hand, keeping her close as your hips began grinding against her face.

“Yeah..right…f-fuck…right there Ellie!” You moan out as her hands come up to hold onto your hips, guiding you, urging you to move harder and faster against her mouth.

Begging you to use her.

Your eyes flutter shut as the familiar feeling begins to settle into your lower half, your legs growing numb, hips getting sore as you chase the high that was growing deliciously close every second Ellie worked her skilled tongue on your pussy.

You aren’t sure you’ve ever felt anything like it. Between Ellie’s fantastic performance with her tongue, and the vibrating tongue ring, your head begins spinning as your orgasm grows closer in an embarrassingly quick amount of time.

“Ellie I…I can’t…you’re gonna…make me…” you warn her, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare down at the girl, only to see her giving you an encouraging nod as she suckles your pussy, making sure the little ball on her tongue is working your clit in the most perfect way so that the vibrations can drive you where you need to go.

That alone has you crying out, back arching almost painfully as you cum hard on the girls tongue.

Sensitivity chases soon after, a soft whine leaving your lips as the girl laps up your arousal, tongue ring still buzzing against your tired cunt, making you shy away from the warmth of her mouth.

She chuckles at that, giving your clit one final kiss before she pulls away and reaches into her mouth to click the tiny machine off.

“Did so good for me baby…took everything that I gave you” she praises you as she crawls up your body, humming softly as her hand comes up to gently hold your face before she kisses you, letting you taste your arousal that lingers on her tongue.

You moan softly into your mouth, head still swirling with a million questions you had for her, all of which she silences with the slow and sensual lapping of her tongue against yours.

She does this as she pushes you back onto your bed, letting you rest against your pillows before she tugs your blanket over both your bodies, her tongue lazily playing with yours as she practically lulls you to sleep with her kisses.

Or so you thought.

Because soon enough, she’s breaking the kiss, crawling off of your body as she tugs the blankets off of hers. You frown as you sit up a bit, watching as she adjusts her hair and her clothes in your mirror, crouching down a bit before she turns to leave your room without another word.

“I…you’re leaving?” You question softly, confusion and exhaustion laced within your words.

Ellie snorts once she turns around, the back of her hand coming up to wipe away anymore of your juices that might have still lingered on her lips.

“You thought I was gonna stay with you? Seriously?” She chuckles out softly before she slowly makes her way back to you, leaning down as she gives you a teasing pout.

“Maybe next time princess…I have someone waiting for me downstairs” she winks at you before she swiftly leaves your bedroom, leaving you there with a shocked look settled on your face.

[writingouthere]

neighbor!sukuna x singlemom!reader. Sukuna picks up your daughter from school, he makes quite the impression and we learn more about his background.

cw: None really here except I guess this is low key becoming a slow burn, idk.

You were stuck at work and didn't have anyone else who could go get your daughter so you had asked Sukuna. The tattoo shop was usually slow in the evening this far into winter anyway, and he couldn't imagine saying no to you even if he'd been fully booked.

It felt strange to be going outside when it was still light out but Sukuna took in the sights as other people walked around, other parents clearly in the process of picking up their children from school.

Not that Bug was his kid, at least not as far you knew. Yet.

Sukuna didn't do things halfway, just wasn't in his nature. He knew he was moving fast, he had put up with his little brother Yuji's nervous protests at dinner the week before when he had explained his new living situation, but he wasn't going to slow things down when they were going so well.

For a long time, it had just been him and Yuji. There had been other relatives, like Yuji's grandfather and his freak of a mother, but the two had mostly bounced around foster homes and made due until Sukuna was old enough to take care of them both. Yuji was graduating college in the spring and Sukuna had been alone since he left for the dorms and now he had an apartment with some friends from school. Sukuna was proud of his brother, he was one of the only people he really gave a fuck about. Their lives had been hard and that had made Sukuna even harder. Yuji had never been like that, he had come through even kinder than the average person and Sukuna could admire the strength that showed in it's own way.

The point was, Sukuna had paid his dues. He had done right by his brother even when the world had done them so wrong and now he was ready for his reward. You and the little girl he was about to go get.

The daycare was inside of a little beige building, decorated with those tacky outlines of children playing and some fucking mural with birds that always seemed to cover the walls of places like this. Parents, mostly moms, walked out with their children in tow, asking about their days and zipping up coats. Sukuna noticed the double takes as they took him in, the way the adults seemed to pull their little ones closer. That was fine by him, he didn't want any of these fucking rugrats near him except his own.

"Ryomen Sukuna, mom should have added me to the pick-up list," he told your daughter's teacher, showing her his ID. She didn't react to his tattoos or general aura with anything but a smile and he supposed that childcare workers must be aware more than most that they really do let anyone be a parent.

"Of course, I'll go get her while you sign here," she said handing over a clipboard with the names of all the kids in the center along with blue pen with a fuzzy pompom attached to it. While he was signing his name he heard a familiar squeal and looked to see your daughter running towards him as fast as her little legs could carry her.

"Sukuna!"

She tripped on some particularly tricky air and Sukuna moved forward to pick her up before she could face plant on the hard tile.

"Careful there bug, told mom I'd bring you home in one piece."

She ignored him and started babbling nonsense about her day that Sukuna could only really catch half of, but he nodded and hmmed as he finished signing her out and with a quick nod to the amused staff member, he headed out.

He shifted her on his hip so he could finish zipping up her coat. What was it with kids and their refusal to just zip up their damn coats? He remembered Yuji had been the same.

Bug continued to regale him with tales of her day until she eventually squirmed on his hip, the universal signal for "put me down until I get tired and whine for you to pick me up again" and Sukuna put her down on the sidewalk but took her backpack which he slung across his shoulder and then grabbed her hand with his. He could see people take second looks at the two of them and he supposed they cut quite the picture. The tall scary guy with tattoos carrying a pink princess backpack and the little girl pulling him down the sidewalk.

"We in a rush or something?"

Your daughter laughed and said something about being hungry for dinner with mommy which he could get behind. You both had only been living with him for a week but you already had a bit of a routine. He made breakfast in the morning while you got the kid ready but you always made dinner that was ready when he got home. It was nice, domestic. It felt like what he imagined life was like for people who had normal families when he had been a young kid. Holding a crying, hungry baby Yuji on his lap while they ate whatever he could scrounge up in whatever shithole they were in that week.

He remembered when Yuji had been the same age as your daughter and the idea of her ever living in the places they had, or going through the things they had made him pull her a little closer.

He wasn't going to lie to himself and say he was a good man or that he wanted you, the both of you, for some pure love nonsense but he knew he wanted you all the same. He had done terrible things and he would do them all over again if it led to this moment where he watched as your daughter cooed over the neighbor's dog. Said neighbor looking at him in confusion and fear as he told your daughter they needed to leave the fleabag alone and go home.

Later, when Sukuna was working on dinner and your daughter was sitting on the counter, "helping", he heard the sound of a key in the lock.

"I'm home," you called out and Sukuna called out that they were in the kitchen.

"Hey, thank you so much for getting her. I just wasn't going to make it in time," you said, picking up your daughter.

"No worries, we weren't busy at the shop today anyway." You hummed and smiled at him.

"Still."

"You can go ahead and change," he told you and you looked ready to protest when he went to grab your daughter from you but then Bug went willingly and he saw how you melted at the two of them. Good.

"Okay, but when I get back I'm taking over dinner."

Sukuna agreed and he watched as you walked away, admiring the way your clothes hugged your frame. He was glad the only witness to his hunger was a toddler who was more interested in poking his cheek than observing social cues.

The rest of the evening passed peacefully and Sukuna felt what he could only describe as content. When your daughter started to nod off on your shoulder, you got up from the couch to take her to bed, telling Sukuna he should stay and that you got it. With your daughter on one hip, you used your free hand to press against his shoulder and lean down to where he was still on the couch. He closed his eyes at the feeling of your lips pressing gently against his cheek and then with a quick goodnight, the two of you were in your room, the door closing with a quick 'click'.

The gesture had been so innocent and Sukuna would have mocked anyone he knew who got so flustered over a gesture as meaningless as a kiss on the cheek.

But how could any gesture be meaningless when it came from you?

[purplecoffee13]

Please, Please, Please - pt.1

Summary: “Harry is utterly fascinated by his new neighbor, Y/N, and takes it upon himself to protect her. But little does Y/N know, that Harry may be the person she is supposed to be running from…”

Wc: 5.6k

Tropes: good girl x bad boy / neighbors

Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, bit of gaslighting.

A/N: THIS IS A TWO PART ONE SHOT based on this request. Please note that it is based around the MUSIC VIDEO, not necessarily the song itself! I decided to cut it up into two parts, because it was getting awfully long, and I was too eager to share it with you. Next part will be steamy!

General Masterlist

PART 2

You sigh, looking up at your new home. Well— you think. You're not exactly sure which window is yours, but you will figure it out once you're on the right floor. You adjust the duffel bag that is slung over your shoulder, and grab your suitcase before walking towards the entrance.

With your new set of keys which you got from the landlord yesterday, you open the door to the lobby. Or, hallway with post boxes. That would definitely be a more accurate way to describe it.

When you were little and fantasized about moving into a place of your own, you have to admit, you did imagine something a bit less... intimidating. Unfortunately, you had been left with no choice.

Ever since your dad died about five years ago, your mother has been serial dating like there was no tomorrow. You had learned to ignore the different men in your kitchen, eating the cereal and drinking your coffee at 7am, but lately something had changed.

Your mother had stuck with one man.

Sadly for you—and your mother, although she wasn't ready to admit that—the guy was a fucking prick. Worst thing about him? He was sneaky about it. When you confronted your mother, telling her you weren't sure if her new boyfriend was that good of a guy, she had flipped out. As she threw all kinds of accusations on the table, such as you not wanting her to be happy and even insinuating you want her boyfriend for herself, you decided that enough was enough.

That night, you hunted the internet for an affordable place. It's how you found this apartment. You knew it wasn't the best neighborhood, but it was a place of your own, and you were sure that you could make it on your own over there.

After all, you had a well paid office job not too far away, and the costs of the apartment wouldn't interfere too much with your saving for law school.

So, kind of on a whim, you contacted the landlord. And now, here you are, ready to unpack all of your stuff. Your mother had at least been so kind to hire a moving truck, but you think it mainly had to do with her wanting you out of her house as quick as possible. You shared the sentiment, so you hadn't said much about it, besides a polite thank you of course.

It takes you three hours to get everything upstairs, and the janitor, Rod, even helps you out with some of the big furniture. Being a tall, broad guy, appearing to be in his sixties, you had actually been quite unnerved by him. Nevertheless, you decided to play smart and throw him a sweet smile the first time you ran into him. It had faded the seemingly permanent  frown on his ever so slightly, and after introducing yourself, his face was even neutral.

It didn't take more than three minutes of chit chat before Rod had warmed up to you, and by the end of the fifteen minutes, he offered to help you. If it hadn't been for him, you would've still been carrying pieces of your couch into your apartment.

You had been able to take over the bed frame and the dining table from the previous owner, so you only had to put your mattress on your bed before you could let yourself fall on it and chill out for a while.

After letting yourself rest for about fifteen minutes, you unpack as much of the stuff in the kitchen, and you spend the rest of the night unpacking your clothes while dancing to the music that blasts through your headphones.

At around midnight, you pass out during a feeble attempt at sorting your socks.

Your peaceful slumber gets interrupted, however, by an array of less peaceful noises coming from another apartment. The first few minutes awake are spent with your eyes stubbornly closed, hoping to fall asleep again, but when you hear an extremely loud thud, your eyes shoot open.

Getting up from your bedroom, you walk over to your door, and look through the peephole. It doesn't seem like there is anyone in the hallway, and the sounds do seem to have quieted down. You sigh, turning around to go back to your bed, when you hear a shout, followed by another thump. Frowning, you go back and open the door, walking out into the hallway. You squint, and blink a few times to get used to the harsh light. Then, you knock on the door in front of you.

There's a couple of voices sounding from inside the apartment, but no one answers. You groan, knocking again, and even harsher this time. It grows quiet, and you are contemplating going back to bed, hoping whoever is on the other side of that wall got the message, but then the door swings open.

In front of you stands a man, with brown curls and a very apparent frown on his face. One that falters ever so slightly at the sight of you, and is accompanied by a small smirk. He leans against the door frame. His cross necklace dangles, visible by his dress shirt that is far from buttoned all the way up, and you swear it hypnotizes you for the shortest second.

"H-hi." You stammer, looking at the man with wide eyes. His smirk grows, and you forget why you are even here.

"Hello." He greets back, hands sliding into his pockets as he looks you up and down, shamelessly. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?"

"Uh, I just moved into the apartment across from you, and I was wondering if you could keep down the noise a little bit?" You ask, but the man doesn't respond. He solely scans you with some sort of frown on his face. You can't deduce whether that is his neutral face, or if he's pissed at you. Nevertheless, you are kind of scared. "It's just— I don't mean to be rude. I just have to get up very early, and it was very loud, so... also, are you okay? It's— I heard a thud, I thought maybe someone fell?"

Once again, it grows quiet between the two of you. With every passing moment of silence, you are regretting your choice to knock. Did you really have to piss off your neighbors the first night you moved in? Couldn't have just battled through a broken night? You curse yourself as you wait for some sort of answer.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."

You let out a breath of relief, glad to see he is not taking it badly. You bite your lip, trying to fight your smile from getting too wide.

"Really? Thank you so much! I appreciate it, and I really didn't mean to offend you or anything. I promise, it's just because I have to get up so early and the coffee at my work is horrible so—" You stop yourself mid-sentence when you realize you are babbling your new neighbor's ear off. "Never mind. Good night, and nice to meet you. My name is Y/N, by the way."

The man doesn't say anything once again, so you take it as your cue to get the fuck back to bed before making it worse. You walk into your apartment, turning around to close the door, when you hear his voice.

"Harry."

Your head shoots up, tilting it ever so slightly at the sudden word spoken by your neighbor. He tilts his head, mocking you, as he repeats the name while pointing to himself. With that, he turns around and closes the door. You do the same, leaning against the door as you realize you have the hottest new neighbor ever.

Another, extremely loud thud sounds from his apartment, and your eyebrows knit together. A loud voice is heard, one that is clearly Harry's shouting 'sorry!'. You giggle, shaking your head at the comedic timing before waltzing back to your bed.

Little do you know, that while you fall back asleep in your comfortable bed, your new neighbor thinks about you through the entire night. Harry's mind is absent, even as they drag the body of the guy that didn't pay up in time out of his apartment, even as he scrubs the blood off his hands and face.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."

He had been purely sarcastic, baffled by the fact that you even had the guts to knock on his door. The first time you knocked, he thought it was just noise from outside or something. No one was stupid enough to knock on Harry Styles' door. No one was dumb enough to risk it.

But someone did knock; an insanely beautiful woman with nothing but an oversized shirt on. Well, shorts under it maybe, but for the sake of his imagination, you didn't. And you weren't stupid, you just didn't know whose door you were knocking on.

Anyone else who would have been foolish enough to do so, especially while he was dealing with a deadbeat who owed him more than enough money, would've met an entirely different fate.

The way you stumbled over your words and  let your eyes travel over his body had given him too much of an ego boost not to play with you a little bit. And once you had reacted so genuinely to his sarcastic response, he somehow didn't have it in his heart to tell you that he wasn't being serious.

Which is strange, because he didn't peg himself for someone with a heart, not anymore.

Nevertheless, he decided that you were right. The incessant noise had gone on long enough. And so, right after he closed the door, Harry turned around aimed his silencer right at the deadbeat's head. Following the thud of his body falling down, he had shouted a 'sorry' for the last noise he would make that night.

Now, as he lays in bed, the reason for his sleeplessness isn't the weight of another death on his shoulders. No, it's his new neighbor and her long, bare legs.

************************************************

ONE DAY LATER

Your shoulders are hurting.

After yesterday's moving activities and today's excruciatingly long day at work, you are exhausted. Not only did you have to do an insane amount of paperwork today, you also got assigned to even more administrative work that shouldn't even be yours to deal with in the first place.

When you had mentioned you wanted to gain experience in the field of law during your interview for receptionist at a law firm, you hadn't expected them to throw all the work in your lap. You were doing a lot of things, spending way too many after hours in the office, doing jobs that were never in your job description, and instead labeled as 'ways to gain experience'. The worst thing is, your boss is acting like these tasks are a huge favor to you, but you know it's just the jobs that they are too lazy to do themselves.

Nonetheless, you don't say anything about it. Despite the cruelness and sometimes uselessness of the assignments you are given, you do have access to active cases that lawyers are working on, and it gives you an opportunity to observe their styles and its effectiveness.

Wanting to become a lawyer is something you had always dreamed of. You loved justice, and you weren't afraid to fight for it. In your day to day life, you are very sweet, bubbly, and in some cases—like yesterday—even shy. But once you are in a professional setting, you can switch and stand strong. The division between your personal and professional self is one you have learned to balance very well, and you also use it as a secret weapon. People are way too quick to underestimate you, and you always make sure it comes back to bite them in the ass.

You put your groceries and briefcase on the ground, allowing yourself to look for your keys, which you forgot to take out of your bag and are now buried somewhere at the bottom. Head deep into your purse, you don't notice Harry walking out of his apartment until his door shuts. It is right after you've found your keys, so with them in hand you turn around to greet him with a smile.

Your new neighbor looks gorgeous, which doesn't bode well for you because you are currently feeling like an expired, mushy sack of potatoes. You shiver at the thought.

"Hey!" You say instead.

"Hello sweetheart." His smooth, English accent hits your ears just right. "Sleep well last night?"

Your cheeks turn pink, and you nod. "Yes, thank you for asking. Oh! Speaking of..."

You turn around and bend down to dig through your grocery bag. When your eyes meet Harry's again, you are reaching out a bouquet of flowers. He stares at it, wary of your intentions.

"They're for you." You feel the need to clarify.

"Aw, sweetheart, you didn't have to go through the hassle of buying me flowers. I'm quite an easy man you know, all you have to do is ask." He says, grin wide as he observes the way your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets at the suggestion of him and you. He likes seeing you all flustered.

"W-what, no! I— it was for yesterday! Because you were so nice to me. I wanted to make up for meeting in such an unfortunate way. Didn't want you to think you have a shitty neighbor now or something." You explain, watching Harry's amusement at your awkwardness.

"I'd never think that, sweetheart." His voice is low, and despite saying it in a bit of a joking way, you swallow at the sound of the sentence. The raspiness of it just gets to you. You brush your nerves off with a weak smile, and turn to open your door.

"Well, have a good night." You say, awkwardly waving at Harry as you carry your bags into your apartment. You place them in your hallway before walking back to close the door. Harry waves back with the flowers, winking at you.

"Good night, sweetheart."

Your heart races at the continuous nickname. It sounds so sexy coming out of his mouth, and it is the only thing you can think of as you cook your dinner. It is even hard to concentrate while watching your favorite show.

A few hours go by, and the sound of Harry's voice doesn't fade from your mind. Neither does the excruciating pain in your shoulders. At around nine p.m. you give up and decide to grab some painkillers. However, to your great horror, you find out that you ran out and forgot to buy new ones.

Cursing yourself, you rush over to your coatrack and grab your jacket. Along with your purse, containing important things such as money, your keys, and pepper spray, you leave your apartment to pop into the convenience store nearby.

It's only a five minute walk, but with your speed you cut a minute from that estimate. It takes a little bit to find the paracetamol, but after grabbing two boxes of pills, you rush to the cash register. You wait until the man in front of you has paid, smiling politely when he turns around to walk out of the store, and step forward to pay for your painkillers.

Despite the cashier's monotone voice, you are more than satisfied with this convenience store, and you walk out smiling at the knowledge of being rid of your pain very soon.

You flinch at the sight of the man from before standing right outside, grinning at you as you walk by. Despite his middle aged appearance, his teeth are rather yellow. You avoid making further eye contact, tension growing in your stomach. As you walk back to your apartment, you make sure to keep your pace quick.

You're too scared to look behind you, but you feel it. You feel that this man is walking a few meters behind you and you also feel like you might throw up. But you keep walking, keys in one hand, pepper spray in the other.

You are ready to open the door that leads you to the hallway of your apartment complex, and immediately push the key into the hole once you get there. But for some stupid fucking reason, the door won't budge. Your heartbeat rises and your hands are getting clammy as you shimmy your keys, trying to open that goddamn door. As your eyes begin to water, you hear a voice behind you.

"Need some help, pumpkin?"

Frantically, your gaze searches for a way to get out of here. It falls into the intercom, but you can't seem to find some sort of emergency button. Since you can't buzz yourself in, that option seems to be useless.

Then, an idea enters your mind.

You take a deep breath, hoping it'll steady your voice before you respond. "No thank you."

The man chuckles. "I think you do. 'S okay, I like a damsel in distress."

Pulling the key out of the hole and wrapping your hand around it, you turn around to the man. You swallow your pride and try to be as nice as you can be when rejecting someone. Stepping back a bit, you almost lean against the wall as you blindly press one of the buttons behind you. Luckily, the noise of ringing a bell isn't very loud from downstairs, so you don't think the man notices your sneaky action.

"I am fine, good night." You say, your smile gone now. You can't find it in yourself to be nice and sweet after that creepy comment. Technically, you are very helpless right now. Because of him, and his actions that fill you with fear. The threat of his presence is what makes you that 'damsel in distress' in the first place, and you hate the fact that men idolize saving you when often they are the danger itself.

"I don't think you are. Why don't you come with me, get a drink together?" His tone is dominated by the insincerity that drips from his words. You know it isn't a question, it's a command. The salacious smirk he wears with it is disgusting, and the way his eyes shamelessly scan you makes you want to shower five times just to feel less gross.

You feel the slight pain in your thumb for pressing so much and hard into the button behind you, but you can't help but pray that your idea will work.

"No, please leave me alone." You try to be as stern as you can, although your shaky voice isn't conveying that message very well.

"I don't think you understood what I said, pumpkin. You and me are gonna get a drink together." He reaches forward and grabs you by your arm, pulling you towards him. You try to shake him off of you, but his grip only tightens. You choke out a cry, still trying to get his grimy hands off of you while he only buries his fingernails further into your skin.

"Let me go!" You scream as loud as you can, hoping that there is someone who will at least hear you. Your free hand reaches into your purse, and you pull out your pepper spray. In a split second, you are holding it up and spray it in the man's eyes.

He shrieks in shock, and lets go of you, covering his eyes with his hands. You quickly turn around to run back inside, but crash into a body on your way there.

Holding your waist, Harry keeps you from falling over. He frowns, his jaw clenching when he catches your terror filled, red eyes.

"Go inside." He orders. While the context is stern, the words spoken come out way softer than one would think when demanding something from someone. You don't have to be told twice, rushing through the open door and running up the countless flights of stairs. You are completely out of breath when you reach your floor, but you don't stop hurrying until you are in the safety of your own apartment.

You tear all your clothes off your body, feeling like you might choke because everything you have on feels to tight to your skin. You keep crying as you jump into the shower to wash yourself off, as you take off your make-up, and as you put a tank top and loose sweatpants on your freshly washed body.

You take your head out of the bun it was in to keep it dry as you walk towards your front door upon hearing a knock. When you open it, you're standing face-to-face with your neighbor.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks, eyebrows knotted as he looks at you. You nod, not wanting to say a word because you don't want to make him uncomfortable by becoming a blubbering mess in front of him. "Can I come in?"

You nod again, opening the door further so he can enter your place. His steps are careful and light, and you see his eyes scan the apartment as he walks in. You shut the door behind him, making Harry turn around to look at you.

He is back at your side as soon as he spots the marks on your arm that the creepy man left when he tried to take you to god knows where. With a tight jaw, Harry glances up at you.

"You need to put ice on that. It's gonna bruise."

You look down, too timid to meet his gaze, and notice Harry's red knuckles. It doesn't take you very long to put two and two together. For some reason, you don't want to directly mention that just yet, so instead you whisper:

"You too."

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle and nods his head, watching you as you walk over to your freezer to get some ice. Putting it in two different dish cloths, you hand one to him before walking over to your couch. Harry follows suit, plopping next to you and putting the cloth meant for him on your arm.

Flushed from that action, you slowly grab his hand and place it flat on your thigh. Ignoring the way it makes the rest of your body feel, you press the ice filled cloth against his knuckles, hoping the cold will give him some relief. He winces, his fingers tightening around your thigh ever so slightly before immediately relaxing again.

Your eyes travel to your own arm, initially to see Harry's hand wrapped around it. However, the sight of the red marks on your arm make your eyes water again, the memory from what just happened resurfacing. The sickening fear of not knowing how the fuck to get out of that situation is as overwhelming as it was just before, even though you are safe now. You hate that a man made you feel so weak.

You can't help the tears from flowing, so you just let them as you silently recall the events of tonight. Your thoughts are cut in on when Harry removes his bruised hand from your thigh and cups it around your jaw. He leans forward, green eyes all sympathetic.

"It's okay, you're okay. He won't hurt you anymore, or ever again." He whispers. You shut your eyes, your silent tears now breaking into soft sobs. There is no choice but to let the sadness flow, and relish in the comfort of Harry's fingers wiping away your tears as you cry out the stress you had been feeling, and give it a place.

You feel it getting lighter with every cry. Each tear that Harry catches is a bit of weight off your shoulders. For some reason he chooses to sit there and offer you a space to store your pain. And even though normally you would never allow yourself, tonight you make use of that space.

*****************************************

A few weeks had gone by, and Harry had taken it upon himself to become your new watch dog. After what happened, he refused to let you go outside by yourself.

The morning after the incident, you got up and went to work like normal. But when you opened your apartment door, you ran into Harry, who had also been planning on going outside. He walked you to your car, and watched as you drove away. That night, when you returned from work, you ran into him again in the hallway downstairs, and walked to your apartments together.

After about three nights of these exact same situations, you could confirm for yourself that Harry was waiting to escort you anywhere.

You thought confronting him about your knowledge of his schemes would put an end to the overprotectiveness, but you were proven wrong. Instead of toning down his behavior, he amped it up. There wasn't a trip to the supermarket that you made by yourself anymore. And anytime you tried to say something about his following you everywhere, he would make up a silly excuse that left you speechless with flushed cheeks and a stupid grin on your face. You gave up fighting it not long after that, mainly because you enjoy his company so much.

Being so close to Harry all the time did make you realize how much distance everyone else kept from him. You didn't miss how people avoided his gaze, or how certain cashiers stumbled over their words as you paid for your groceries. It had you wondering; just how scary was Harry?

Harry had really taken it upon himself to protect you. It kind of went automatically, if he had to be honest. He simply couldn't watch you walk around the neighborhood so defenseless. What happened to you had enraged him so much, he didn't want a repetition of it.

Of course, an exact repetition was not an option anymore since he had beaten up the guy who assaulted you to the point where he was hospitalized. Harry couldn't find it in himself to feel even the slightest of remorse. Well, maybe only for the fact that he didn't kill him right then and there. He would have, had he not been too worried about you being alone upstairs.

Soon enough, word had traveled about your association with Harry, and it resulted into people being afraid of you. You were so incredibly confused about the shaky voices of people you'd ask for help in stores. You had never imagined yourself to have such an intimidating aura.

Since Harry had taken it upon himself to watch you, you had taken it upon yourself to feed him. It was the least you could do, and it gave you a reason to keep him around longer at night.

Part of you was aware that wanting to get closer to Harry might not be the best idea, especially considering the collectively instilled fear that lingered everywhere he would go. But he was so sweet to you, and you were sure that there was an explanation.

So, tonight during dinner, you had decided you would ask him about it.

Harry was delighted when you asked him if he wanted to stay and eat, and didn't hesitate to say yes. Now as he leans against the counter, watching you cook the pasta you promised to prepare, you have to actively control your breathing. His intense stare has a way of turning your legs into jelly and fogging up your mind.

"How was your day?" You ask him as casually as you can. Harry doesn't tear his eyes off of you, grinning at the way he is making you squirm.

"Good, love."

You swallow at the new nickname he suddenly conjured up. The low baritone of his voice combined with his green eyes on yours has your heartbeat getting out of control. You hear the breathy chuckle leaving Harry's mouth, and it makes your stomach turn. He knows exactly what he is doing.

"So, uhm... I have a question." You say, focusing extra hard on stirring the boiling pasta. He hums, indirectly telling you to ask away. You turn down the pitch on which your pasta stands, and turn to face him. For the first second that you meet his eyes, you were forget what you were even going to ask him, but you quickly regain your senses.

"Why is everyone here so afraid of you?" You tilt your head, really observing Harry. Sure, he is tall, with a broad and muscled figure. He always wears dark clothes and his green eyes will never look away first. But to truly be terrified of this man? You couldn't imagine why.

Harry doesn't say anything. He pushes himself away from the counter and walks towards you, slowly towering over your smaller frame. He leans forward, his face closer to yours than it has ever been before, and it gives you ideas that you probably shouldn't have.

"Do I scare you?"

Silently, you shake your head. Harry's eyes slowly travel down your face, fixating on your mouth for the longest five seconds you have ever experienced, and then shoot back up to meet yours again. "Then why do you care so much about what others think?"

"I don't." You respond embarrassingly fast, overwhelmed with a need to get his approval.

"Well, there you have your answer."

With that, he turns around to the counter and grabs the glass of white wine you poured for him. Taking it between his hands as if it were a cocktail glass, you watch entranced as he takes a sip. Your gaze falls onto his hands. You feel sinful for the thoughts that occupy your mind, but they fly out the window when you spot how bruised his knuckles are. And you realize...

"No, I don't." You say sternly. Harry looks at you, amused by your protest. "I don't know anything about you, Harry."

Harry laughs, but it’s a bitter laugh, accompanied by his hand running through his hair and his head shaking as if he can’t believe what he is dealing with. A part of you wants to get on your knees and beg him to forgive you for being suspicious of who he truly is, but you refrain from doing it.

“People fear what they don’t know, Y/N.” He says, his eyes finding yours. Your heart starts beating faster, aware of the fact that his eyes are going to keep being trained on yours without even so much as faltering.

“I don’t give a fuck about what those people think of me, they don’t know me. You do. So why is their judgment relevant? I’m here, aren’t I? Standing in front of you, letting you know me. Is that not enough?”

You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach at his words, and the authenticity of them. You let out a sigh, breaking eye contact to look down at the floor, contemplating what he’s saying. Maybe he is right.

“Sorry.” You say so softly it could almost be classified as a whisper. The feeling of Harry’s fingers pushing your chin up makes your eyes meet his, and you notice the hint of a smile he wears.

“Go sit.”

Slightly confused, you follow his order, looking back at him to see him finishing up the pasta and making a bowl for the both of you.

“I’m 29.” He states, his back still to you. Your mouth breaks into a smile, and you prop your elbow on the couch, leaning your chin into the palm of your hand as you observe him.

“Really?” You are grinning like a proper idiot now. Harry nods.

“I don’t have any siblings, but we did have a dog, and we rescued a stray kitten that was sleeping in our garden.” He goes on, turning around and walking over to the couch with the bowls of pasta. He sits down and hands you one.

“What are their names?” You ask.

“Dog is called Pepper. Mum let me name the cat, so I named her Hades.” He explains, making you a giggle.

“You named your girl cat Hades?”

“Persephone is such a mouthful. Plus, I was like ten, and had this big obsession with Hades.” He shrugs, taking a bite of the pasta. Your eyes widen, and you begin to laugh even harder.

“You mean to tell me that little ten year old Harry was obsessed with the Greek God of the underworld, the God of death… Are you okay?”

Harry shrugs. “He’s just doing his job.”

You cover your face with your hands, beyond amused by his nonchalance. You don’t see it, but Harry might take more joy out of the situation than you. His eyes sparkle with adoration as he watches you laugh, and he wishes he knew how to control time just to stay in this moment forever. There is something so extraordinary about your happiness being caused by him. He is fascinated with how much he wishes he could do it every day for the rest of his life.

He didn’t know whether opening up about himself was the smartest ideas, but he would give you his social security number if it made you laugh like that.

You take your hands off your face and look at him, the sudden urge to kiss him being almost unbearable. Almost. You sigh, not knowing how to express these feelings you have towards him, so instead you opt for a simple comment.

“I’m so glad you’re my neighbor.”

Harry smirks. “I’m glad you’re my neighbor too.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

daddy

words: 8.8k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, smut, stepdad!rafe, pervy!rafe, rafe meets reader when theyre 17 but nothing happens until 18, lots of use of daddy, taboo sex, age gap (rafe is early 30s reader is newly 18) scammer!rafe??, cheating, unprotected p in v sex, breeding, male and female receiving oral, fingering, virgin!reader, innocent!reader, lots of pet names (little one, little baby, baby girl, etc), reader is described as small chested and feels insecure about it, manipulation, power dynamic holy shit thats a lot of warnings

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

rafe wasn't sure what to expect when he learned his newest mark had a 17 year old daughter. 

he had long been cast out by his father, ward keeping him far away from the cameron investments, but he still carried the name. 

rafe had found a new way to fortune, one that allowed him to rely on his natural talents, good looks and charm. he flirted with wealthy (usually older) women until they agreed to a date, then had them fall so completely in love that they married rapidly without prenup only for rafe to divorce them later and take a hefty sum away from them.

he already repeated he process three times in a little under five years. he was worried about the reputation he would get, if the rich women of the outer banks and surrounding areas would discover his scheme and he would be out of luck, so when a new divorced mother of one moved in to a sprawling mansion, rafe was quick to greet her and turn he flirt on.

the first time he saw you he was shocked how different you looked from your mother. he pictured her daughter to be a miniature version of herself, bold and chatty, flaunting tacky jewelry and guady animal print.

but you were almost the stark different. sharing the same bouncing head of curly hair was where the similarities seemed to end. it was a ‘family pool party’ where rafe first saw you. it was more of an excuse for your mother to bring her friends around and show off her new younger boy toy who was just head over heels for her.

you greeted rafe with a quiet hello before retreating back into the shade, covered in a pale yellow sundress, but the blue of your bikini straps were peaking out, making rafe hopeful that you would get into the pool, but you spent the entire party under the shade of the balcony while your mother paraded him around.

he found a quiet moment while she was distracted with her margarita to slip away, coming to sit next to you on the soft white jacquard couch, another symbol of your mother's wealth, having such an expensive piece of furniture outside without a care if it dirtied or got ruined my the frequent bad weather.

“hello little one.” rafe says softly, afraid by the look on your face that he would startle you into running and hiding.

“hi rafe.” you whisper, hands twisting in your lap as nerves turn in your stomach. he's the first man your mom has dated since her divorce, and you're glad to see her happy, but rafe is not what you were expecting. your mother told you her new boyfriend was young, but you didn't expect early 30s when your mother is pushing 50. “my mom has told me a lot about you.”

it's not exactly a lie, she has gone on and on when she gets home from dates with rafe, it's just that you've gotten very used to tuning your mother out.

“yeah, she's told me a lot about you too.” rafe leans in closer, “why don't you tell me a bit more?”

“i-i-um.” you stutter over your words, eyes shooting down to your lap after making brief eye contact.

“do i make you nervous, y/n?” rafe asks, practically purring your name out.

you laugh awkwardly, tucking your hair behind your ear as you fein a sudden interest in the partygoers to give you an excuse of something to look at. “everyone makes me nervous.” you whisper. it's not like rafe doesn't already know, you're sure he can tell from your behavior. you have a lot of issues after your dad abandoned you and your mom, and it manifested mostly in anxiety.

“oh, poor baby.” rafe pouts, placing his hand on your chin and turning you to face him, not letting you avoid the eye contact.

“im not a baby.” you say, eyes flickering all over rafes face as you take in the details close up, his powerful cheekbones and shining eyes. “i turn 18 next month.”

“oh yeah?” rafe releases your chin, and you somehow gain the confidence to keep looking at him, drinking in his features. “are you going to invite me to your party?”

“im not going to have a party.” you say, like it's obvious.

rafe goes to push back, starting to argue “but a pretty little thing like yourself-” when your mother cuts him off with a yell of his name, making both of your heads snap to her, where she's waving rafe over to introduce him to a new friend that just entered the backyard.

rafe sighs, slipping his hand onto your lap and giving your thigh a squeeze before standing up. he looks back before he walks away, again maintaining eye contact as he says “it was nice to meet you y/n. ill be seeing you a lot more from now on.”

and rafe keeps true to his word. he continues to swoon your mom, but makes a point to spend time with you as well. your mom sees it as a show of how serious he is about the relationship, she doesn't realize how rafe looks at you.

“your birthday is this weekend?” rafe questions, but it's more of a statement. he takes a strand of your hair and twirls it around your finger, unable to keep his hands away.

“yeah.” you whisper, trying to pay attention to the project you were working on, your sketchbook sat in your lap, angled so rafe couldn't see what you were drawing.

“and you still don't want a party? what do you want to do then little one?” rafe kept using the nickname, even after you pushed back that you are almost a legal adult and not little.

“i don't even have any friends here.” you sigh, almost wishing you were back in high school so you could have a way to meet people your age. “they're all back in california.” 

you send out a silent curse to your father, and your mother. your father for leaving you, and your mother for reacting to it by moving across the country to the opposite coast, escaping the pain and embarrassment in favor of you losing all your friends and everything you knew.

“what are you going to do for your birthday then?” rafe asks as you start to draw again, finding it easier to talk when your charcoal pencil is also moving against the page.

“probably nothing. maybe see a movie.” you shrug. you've gotten used to doing things on your own. despite mostly staying in the house, you did occasionally need breaks from the same scenery, and more aptly, your mother. you always hoped you'd meet someone your age, but even when you were out doing things solo and saw other teens, you couldn't bring yourself to speak to them, your shyness winning the battle over wanting friends.

“i'll come with you, little one.” rafe offers. he was close to getting a ring on your moms finger, in record time. the divorce made her not only vulnerable but also needy to replace the husband figure in her life, not realizing that all of rafes money came from running this same scam. he could use hanging out with you on your birthday to his advantage, showing your mother how serious he is about the relationship.

“okay.” you whisper, hand shaking causing you to mess up the drawing, excited and nervous for the weekend. it's not that you dislike spending time with rafe, he just makes you nervous, like any ridiculously good looking man would.

“i’ll see you saturday then.” rafe says, standing up as your mom enters the room, now dressed and primped, ready to go on the date rafe was whisking her away on.

you keep your eyes trained on your sketchbook as rafe greets your mother with a kiss, and you cringe knowing her tacky red lipstick is going to leave a stain on his mouth, but you don't look up to see.

--

“hi little baby.” rafe greets you after sending your mom out for a spa day, giving you time to go see a movie together. you don't even care that your mom is away on your birthday, you rather spend it this way.

“hi rafe.” you say, not bothering to correct him that you are in fact 18 now and not little or a baby.

rafe surprises you when he wraps his arms around your shoulders, squeezing you into a hug. you freeze up, not used to the intimate contact. your dad never hugged you his way, and your mom was never very affectionate either. 

“happy birthday.” rafe purrs into your ear, burying his head in your hair, nuzzling into the curls.

“thanks.” you mumble, keeping your arms flat against your sides as rafe pulls away. you definitely didn't have the confidence to hug him back.

rafe stays quiet as he leads you out the door with a steady hand on your back, making you shiver as goosebumps rise up your arms despite the warm north carolina air. he even gives you a hand to help you up into his truck.

“do you want to get dinner first, pretty baby?” rafe asks you as he starts up the truck and shifts it into gear. you feel your cheeks flame at the name, wriggling your hands together in your lap in nervousness.

“no.” you whisper, and you're surprised rafe can hear you over the sound of his truck. “i, um-” you pause to clear your throat. “i don't want to get full on food and not want popcorn. maybe we can go after.” 

“sounds good.” rafe says, even though you don't really want to be spending more time with him. it's not that you don't want your mom to be happy, but it's weird to see her with someone other than your dad.

rafes hand slides across the center console, gripping your thigh through your jeans. you tense your leg in surprise at the contact, expecting him to squeeze and then let go, but rafe keeps his hand on your thigh the entire ride there. 

“hold on, i’ll open the door for you, birthday girl.” rafe says after pulling into a parking spot. you wait for rafe to walk around the hood, tugging to door open and giving you a hand out that you graciously accept, willing to put up with the physical contact so you don't risk falling and embarrassing yourself even worse.

rafe leads you into the theatre, and he orders the tickets and popcorn for you, knowing how much you hate talking to others, especially service workers.

“im so excited to see this movie!” you say, taking your seat towards the back of the theatre, rafe setting the popcorn on the armrest in between the two of you. he's surprised to see how genuine your statement is, finally opening up and showing a bit of your emotions.

“if you're excited, then im excited too little one.” rafe says, grabbing a piece of popcorn and sticking it in his mouth.

--

“y/n i want to ask you something.” rafe calls, stopping your quick ascent up the stairs as you tried to flee before he or his mother stopped you. 

“okay.” you mumble, walking back down the couple stairs you had managed to make it up.

“in private.” rafe clarifies, and you glance between him and your mom, but she just nods that it's okay before turning to the kitchen, becoming distracted by finding herself some wine to drink.

“we can talk if your room if it makes you more comfortable.” rafe says, and you blanche at the idea. no one ever goes in your room, not your mom or even the maids.

“how about the study?” you offer instead, your second favorite location in the house, with cherry wood bookshelves covering every one of the walls and two plush couches in the middle providing a comfortable reading area.

rafe places his hand on your back, fingers playing with the material of your sweater as you walk to the study. upon entering, you flick on a lamp and sit down on one of the couches, hoping rafe will take the one across from you, but of course he slides right next to you, pressing your thighs together.

“what is it you want to talk about?” you ask, your heart beat somehow remaining steady. you realize it's because you've become more comfortable around rafe, even if his touches did still send a jolt through your body.

“ive really been enjoying spending time getting to know you, little one.” rafe places a hand on your thigh, just under where your shorts end. he looks down, marveling how soft your skin is and how small your legs are compared to his hand. “your mother as well, of course.” rafe adds, almost like she's an after thought.

“i was hoping that you would want to spend more time with me. i would like to ask your permission to ask your mother to marry me.”

your eyebrows shoot up at the question. rafe has only been dating your mom for around five months now, and marriage this soon after a divorce seems like such a rush decision, but who are you to judge? you've never been married, you've never been in love.

“i-i guess that would be okay.” you see how happy rafe makes your mom, who are you to deny her that happiness?

“thank you.” rafe smiles, hand moving higher until he's tucked in between your thighs, feeling the heat radiating from your core. he strokes over your thigh as you spread your legs ever so slightly, giving him more space to work. your eyes fluttered closed, lost in the pleasure and rafe hasn't even touched over your underwear yet, just focusing on your inner leg.

“gonna be your new daddy.” rafe hums, his voice bringing you out of the trance that his hands put you in.

you stand up suddenly, making rafe frown as you run out of the study and up to your bedroom, slamming the door shut and heading over to your desk, looking at the drawing of rafe that you had just finished. you take the piece of paper and turn it face down, not wanting to think about him at the moment, wondering when he is going to propose to your mother.

--

“i can dress myself.” you say, looking at the sparkly pink dress hanging on the back of the door, decorated in fabric petals to signify your role as flower girl, even though you told your mom that you were okay not being part of the wedding party, she insisted that you had to participate in her special day.

“your mother specifically asked me to help you get dressed. what kind of future husband would i be if i didn't listen to her?” rafe raises his eyebrows, already dressed in his wedding suit.

“can you turn around then?” you question, gesturing for him to turn, face out the window of the venue your mother had rented for the wedding. the grounds are beautiful, filled with flowers and neatly trimmed bushes.

“what if something happens, baby?” rafe shakes his head. “i can't help you if im turned around.”

“you want me to get undressed in front of you?” you squeal.

“come on, im about to be your dad.” rafe says softly. “besides, im just helping you into your dress. unless you want me to help you take those clothes off too?”

“no!” you shake your head, looking one more time to rafe to see if he's going to look away, but he makes no move to as you pull you unbutton your shirt, careful not to have worn a shirt that required pulling off over the head since your hair and makeup is already done. 

you're thankful for the simple bra covering your breasts as you keep your eyes on the floor, tugging your pants off. 

rafe stands up straight from his position leaning over he armoire and grabs your dress, lowering it to the ground so you can step in, having already unzipped it in preparation.

you step in quickly, wanting to get covered again as soon as possible, feeling the burn of rafes stare on your scantily clad body, but for your fast movements, rafe is slow, gliding the dress up your body, hands occasionally brushing against your bare skin until the neckline is finally in its proper place.

rafe rounds your body, tugging the zipper up, again letting his finger drag against your skin all the way up.

“you look so beautiful.” rafe ducks his head, kissing your shoulder. you gasp at his lips on you, leaning back into his body as your mind goes dizzy.

“can't wait to be your daddy.” rafe presses another kiss to the space between your shoulder and neck before standing straight, wrapping his hand around yours. 

“let me walk you outside, little princess.” rafe is glowing, and you know logically it must be because of his wedding day to your mom, but a large part of you hopes that it's also because he's excited for you as well. 

--

“how does a boat day sound, little one?” rafe asks, tugging on your curl that had fallen in front of your face.

“i thought mom had a facial today?” you question, closing your book after slotting the bookmark to save your page.

“she does, i thought the two of us could go. some daddy daughter bonding time.” rafe says, always making a point to have solo time with you since he got married to your mom two months ago.

“okay, that sounds fun.” you nod, wanting an excuse to lay out and tan, and you've found yourself loving spending time with rafe, especially now that he was officially part of the family. he certainly would never replace your dad, but he's made an effort to make you more comfortable around him.

“let me help you pick out a bikini.” rafe says, and you hop up off the couch as he starts to move towards your room.

“no, rafe, that's okay.” you rush after him, taking the stairs as fast as you can.

“come on, let me see. ive never even been in your room!” rafe says, reaching for your doorknob, but you thrust yourself in front of the door, blocking him.

“i… i have my drawings on the wall. i don't want you to see them.” you bite your lip, hoping rafe doesn't push.

“drawings of me?” rafe asks, touching his fingers to your chin and tilting your head up.

“some of them.” you admit, opening the door and trying to close it before rafe can see, but he grabs the wood and forces his body in before you can slam it behind him.

you press your back into the wall as rafe scans the room. you have an entire wall decorated with your drawings taped up. most are black and white with charcoal but you've colored some in as well. there are a lot of rafe, a lot of your mom, of friends you miss that live back in california. the one rafe walks up to is a nature sketch, of the outer banks beaches that you've come to live just as much as the packed los angeles ones.

“you're so talented.” rafe says earnestly. “how come you don't show people your art?” 

“because they're just for me.” you say honestly. you've never had the urge to show your drawings to other people or pursue art further. it just wasn't something that girls in your family did. they were good wives and hostesses. they didn't have time consuming hobbies, especially if they didn't create an instant profit.

“well if you ever decide to sell anything, let me know right away. i’d pay anything to have one of your works hanging in my house.”

you don't mention that his house is now your house, considering he moved in with you right after the wedding. you're too busy blushing over the fact that he likes your art that much, what you deem just quick sketches, he thinks they're good enough to be displayed.

“now where are your bikinis?” rafe questions, moving on from the conversation, knowing you're not bold enough to change the topic yourself.

“um, hold on.” you open up your closet and grab a box out, dumping them all onto your bed. you're not sure why rafe wants to choose your swimsuit, but you don't question it.

rafe hums as he looks through the bikinis, tossing the ones he disapproves of back into the box.

“you dressed pretty slutty back in california, huh?” rafe looks at you, now moved back to your position of being pressed against the wall.

“i-” you begin to explain yourself, but rafe bursts out laughing. “don't look so scared, little one. im not angry. why don't you wear this one?” he tossed your orange bikini at you, probably the skimpiest one you own with the back being just a thong and cups barely big enough to cover your chest.

rafe doesn't say another word, exiting your room and leaving you to take a deep breath. you change into the bikini, looking at yourself in your full length mirror, surprised how much you've filled out the bikini since you last wore it a couple months ago. north carolina has done well for your appetite, filling in your stomach and plumping up your bum. you try to adjust your top to give you the illusion of bigger boobs, but it doesn't work. that's one part of you that didn't fill out at all.

you pull a coverup on over your body before you slip your feet into your sandals. rafe may have seen you in your underwear before but the various employees your mom always has around the house have not.

“ready, pretty baby?” rafe asks when you plop down the stairs, a tote bag in hand that you can see a couple water bottles sticking out of. rafe must be planning on taking the speedboat instead of the yacht, considering your mom insists on keeping it fully stocked despite not really enjoying being on the water, preferring to look at it from afar.

“very ready, d-” you pause when you realize you were about to call rafe daddy. you have just called him by his first name since he got married to your mom, but it almost slipped out anyways, some part of your subconscious associating him with that.

“it's okay, little one, if you want to call me daddy if you want to, or you can just call me rafe.” rafe says, taking your hand as he leads you out towards the dock, looking like your personal marina. you just nod on acknowledgement.

“speedboat today?” you ask as rafe leads you down.

“whatever you want.” he shrugs.

“something with a bed that i can lay and tan on?” you suggest, and rafe steers you towards the smaller of your family yachts.

you take a seat near the front of the ship as rafe goes to the helm to steer you to a secret spot he claims to know of. you pull out your sketchbook and shield it from the wind as you sketch out your view of rafe, a story up behind the dashboard of gears and gages as he drives the boat. you even include the reflection of the sun on the glass.

“here we are.” rafe anchors the boat near a sandbar with clear pale yellow sand, surprisingly devoid of any seaweed or debris.

“it's so pretty.” you say, making a mental note to sketch it before the tide rises. “it must have been so nice to grow up here.”

“mmm.” rafe nods, taking his shirt off. your eyes widen as he reveals his muscles. it's not the first time that you've seen him shirtless, but you've never been this close, and never alone.

“wanna swim before you tan kiddo?” rafe questions.

“um, yeah.” you shrug. you weren't that interested in swimming originally but now that you're at the sandbar you'd definitely like to explore.

“then you'll have to take your cover up off, show me your cute little body.” rafe says, tugging on the strap of your clothing.

“oh, right.” you hum, pulling the dress off over your head. rafe bites his lip, placing a hand on your waist. 

“how do you not have a boyfriend? with a gorgeous body like this.” rafe sighs, slowly moving his hand lower, tangling his fingers in the strings of your bikini bottoms.

“shy, remember?” you giggle, letting yourself step closer to rafe as he looks down at you.

“you're too pretty to not be appreciated properly, little baby.” rafe sighs again, like he's actually upset at the thought of you being lonely.

you suddenly remember that rafe isn't some random older guy interested in you, but your step dad. the man your mom is newly married to. you step away and to avoid speaking any more, jump over the side of the boat into the sparkling water.

--

“so just rafe and i for the next week?” you question your mom, following her around her luxurious master suite as she packs a suitcase.

“it may be two weeks.” your mother says, shoving her clothes in before turning to her wall of heels.

“why isn't rafe going with you?” you question.

“y/n.” your mother sighs, stopping her work to turn to you. “please leave me alone to pack. i have to finish this divorce settlement with your father. as much as i'd like to show rafe off to him, rafe has business he needs to tend to here in the outer banks.”

you go to question what business, considering rafe doesn't seem to do anything other than flaunt after your mother, or sneak away moments with you when she's busy, but your mother gives you a pointed look so you shut your mouth, leaving the room.

--

“itll be nice to have some alone time with my favorite little girl.” rafe says, throwing his arm around you, pulling you into his side. you lean into him, reminding yourself over and over that your dad used to cuddle like this on the couch with you when you were little.

“don't you have business?” you question, letting your finger trace patterns on rafes jeans, swirling over the rough material.

“nothing that's more important then spending time with you.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you're glad he can't see your face as it turns pink.

“could we have ice cream tonight?” you ask. you've been allowing yourself more and more to indulge in sweets.

“that sounds good, honey. do you want to choose the movie?” rafe hands you the remote and you turn something on, keeping yourself resting against his warm body.

you're about halfway through the movie when your tummy rumbles. you honestly got so engrossed in the film you forgot you were even leaning up against your step dad.

“is baby girl hungry?” rafe questions. “we can pause the movie and eat some ice cream now.”

you reach for the remote and pause it, mumbling something about wanting strawberry ice cream as rafe follows you into the kitchen, opening up the freezer and pulling out strawberry for you, and vanilla for himself.

“hey kiddo, get us bowls.” rafe asks you as he gets spoons. you have to get on your tiptoes to reach the shelf the bowls are on, cursing your short mother for giving you these genes. 

you slide yourself up onto the counter as rafe hands you your now filled bowl. you barely have time to say thank you before putting the spoon in your mouth, letting out a moan as the taste hits your tongue. you've been craving ice cream all day and it's completely hitting the spot. you work quickly through the bowl, letting your satisfaction out in the forms of moans.

“stop moaning like that, baby.” rafe says, making you jump from the sudden and unusual roughness in his voice.

“‘m sorry.” you look down at your bowl of ice cream, setting it on the counter.

“it's okay.” rafe sighs, setting his bowl down as well.

“are you upset with me?” you ask, feeling tears well up in your eyes.

“no, little girl, im not.” rafe frowns, moving between your legs, your face for once the same height as his with you sat up on the counter. he takes your face in his big hands, stroking the rough pad of his thumb over your cheek.

“sorry baby girl. will you forgive me?” rafe tilts your face to keep you looking at him.

“yeah.” you nod, just glad that rafe isn't annoyed with you.

“you have ice cream on your mouth.” rafe says, and you reach up to wipe it off when rafe suddenly leans in, his mouth pressing against yours, tongue flickering out and licking over your lip, tasting the strawberry ice cream as well as a taste that is simply you.

you gasp in surprise, allowing rafe to slip his tongue into your mouth. you're not sure what to do, or how to react. you've kissed before, but never one as passionate or with this much tongue involved. 

rafe presses another kiss to your lips before pulling away. your eyes are wide when he doesn't say anything to explain himself, simply looking at you.

“you just kissed me!” you say, as if he's unaware of his actions.

“i did, baby girl. did your dad not give you kisses?” he tilts his head to the side.

“maybe when i was little, and certainly not like that.” you gulp, wondering how your mom would feel if she saw that, but she wasn't home of course.

“well then it sounds like he wasn't a good father. good thing you have daddy rafe in your life now. do you want another kiss?”

“i- i think i do.” you say, licking your lips, not giving your brain any time to become reasonable and back out. 

rafe presses his lips against yours again, and you find yourself kissing back. you fist your hands in his shirt, tugging him closer as you moan into his mouth, repeating the same sinful noises from when you were eating your ice cream.

“god, baby, your moans make me so hard.” rafe says against your lips, giving you only a quick second to take a deep breath before he's back to kissing you.

“do you wanna help out your daddy?” rafe asks, moving his lips to your jaw as he kisses there.

“yes.” you answer honestly. rafe has shown you nothing but affection, something you were so severely lacking that you would do anything for him to make up for it.

“want you to suck my cock.” rafe says, making you pull away from the kiss.

“i can't do that!” you say. not to mention that you have no clue how, but you certainly can't do that with your moms husband.

“but you can, baby. it's alright. you trust me, right?” rafe hums, in which you give a little nod.

“then you can help me out. you're so beautiful, baby girl. i can make you feel good too.”

“you can?” you question, tilting your head to the side.

“i can. we can go upstairs to your bedroom if it makes you feel more comfortable. i told you this beautiful little body needed to be appreciated. remember that, kiddo? so let me appreciate you.”

“what about mom?” you question. there's no way she would be okay with this.

“we don't have to tell her. we can just say we had a lot of daddy daughter time and keep it between us. our little secret.”

you're not sure what to say. as much as you want to see what this appreciation rafe is talking about feels like, you're nervous about hurting your mom or taking things too far, after all, rafe is your step dad.

“let me just give you another kiss while you think about it.” rafe says, placing one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist. “just a nice daddy daughter kiss, nothing naughty about it, little one.”

rafe presses his lips against yours, and all thought you have go out the window as you kiss him back, becoming more confident in your movements the longer you go. rafe tugs you closer to the edge of the counter, and you are quick to wrap your arms around his shoulders, trying to copy whatever you've learned from watching movies as well as doing what feels best.

rafe slips his tongue into your mouth again, and you cry out around it when he presses his hips forward, nestling something hard and rigid against your core.

“upstairs, please.” you whisper. 

rafe nods, wrapping his arms around your hips and lifting you easily. you don't know how he navigates the house so well while you're still kissing, too engrossed in his lips to even let him see properly to walk faster. 

he takes you to your room, your safe space that only he has been in. he sets you down on the bed, and you whine when your lips disconnect.

“shh, baby, im gonna make you feel real good soon. wanna suck daddies cock first?” rafe presses his thumb against your bottom lip, now pink and swollen from the intense make out.

“ive never done it before, i-i don't know how.” you admit, dropping your eyes to rafes crotch, the way his length is straining against his pants.

“ill teach you, baby.” rafe takes his shirt off, and you can't resist reaching out and running your hands over his smooth abs.

“you want to take your shirt off too, honey? let me see your cute little tits.”

you nod, letting rafe help you out of your shirt.

“no bra?” rafe questions, eyes widening when he realized he spent all day with you, not knowing you were bare under your shirt until now.

“its not like i need one.” you blush, going to reach to cover your chest, but rafe stops you.

“don't feel insecure, baby girl. your body is gorgeous. can i touch your chest?” rafe asks. you nod, your nipples jutting out from your skin now that they're exposed to the cold air.

rafe cups your tits, pushing what little is there up. he swipes his thumb over your nipple, making you throw your head back in pleasure. rafe smiles down at you, rubbing over your tits, feeling them with his palms, the way your nipples are hard against them.

“feels so good.” you whine, not even realizing that you had squeezed your eyes hard shut.

“i know, baby.” rafe chuckles, kneeling into the floor between your legs. “let me show you how good my mouth feels too.” rafe pulls you closer to the edge, wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

“oh my god, daddy!” you shout out, tangling your hands in rafes hair and holding him to your chest, never wanting the feeling to stop.

“mhm.” rafe mumbles against your skin, pressing a kiss to your nipple before gliding his tongue across your chest to the other side. “daddys gonna take real good care of you.”

“i wanna take care of you too.” you say as rafe sucks on your nipple, tugging it between his teeth gently. you hadn't forgotten the original reason you came upstairs, and want to see what you felt pressing against you earlier.

rafe straightens up, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze before placing it over his crotch. you experiment with what makes rafe feel good as you feel him over his jeans, keeping your eyes on his face. you stroke the hard length, focusing on where you're guessing the tip is, and judging from the way rafe is groaning, it feels good.

“wanna see it.” you say, tugging on his waistband. “please.” you add in for good manners.

“oh, my baby girl, you never have to beg me.” rafe says, undoing his pants and pulling them down, stepping out and licking them away. your eyes widen when you realize there's a small wet spot on his underwear where you were focusing on earlier.

“are you ready?” rafe asks, his thumbs nudging under the waistband of his underwear.

“yes.” you nod, taking your eyes off his crotch as he drops the last layer of fabric, blinking up at rafe through fluttering eyelashes. rafe smiles at you, a soft grin reassuring you as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

you let your eyes close, focusing on the kiss as you reach out, exploring with your hands as you grasp his length, gasping into the kiss as you stroke your hand up and down. you don't know much about what you're doing, but you can tell that his cock is long and thick, you're barely able to wrap your small hand around him.

“feels so good, baby girl. making daddy so happy.” rafe says, groaning as you stroke your fingertip over the tip of his cock, collecting some of that wetness that you saw earlier.

rafe pulls away, standing back up straight as you finally look down, feeling a funny feeling in your stomach as you take in his cock, long and hard jutting away from his body, the tip a beautiful pink color that you want to capture with paint some day.

you take your fingertip into your mouth, licking over the wetness, the salty taste spreading over your tongue. 

“you can just touch for longer if you're not ready to suck me yet.” rafe says, running a hand over your hair.

you don't respond, leaning forward and taking his tip into your mouth, furrowing your brows as you try to work out what to do, flicking your tongue over the head of his cock.

“that's good, baby girl.” rafe moans, resisting the urge to thrust forward, letting you explore on your own as you pull off to lick down his length, tracing over the vein running along the underside until you get to the base and press kisses as you move back up.

you take his cock back into your mouth, trying to take as much as him as you can, only managing a few inches before you gag and pull off a little. you suck the best you can with him taking up so much space, being aware of where your teeth are and not letting them touch the sensitive skin. you'd never want to hurt rafe.

“feels so good, little one.” rafe groans, pressing his hand to the back of your head, pushing you back down onto his cock, further and further until you sputter and have to pull off with a cough.

“are you okay?” rafe questions, but you just give a quick nod before retaking him in your mouth, closing your eyes and focusing on moving up and down, even though you can't take him all the way, you focus on keeping a rhythm, repeating whatever motion makes rafe moan the loudest.

“you can use your hand too.” rafe says, taking your hand in his and wrapping it around the base of his length. you hum in acknowledgement, pulling off to lick at rafes tip to get more of the salty taste as your hand strokes up and down his cock. you kiss his very tip, almost as a thank you for your step daddy for letting you make him feel good.

“im so proud of you, my little baby.” rafe says, and you glow under his praise, sucking his cock back between your lips as you bob your head, running your tongue over him as well.

“fuck!” rafe suddenly pulls away, making you pout. 

“come back daddy.” you try to reach out for them, but rafe reaches down and squeezes his cock tightly by the base, chest heaving.

“you almost made daddy feel too good.” he says, giving his cock a quick stroke like he's unable to resist it.

“were you… going to cum?” you question, quirking your head to the side.

“and what would you know about cumming?” rafe questions, making you blush.

“ive watched movies!” you argue.

“want me to help you learn more? i can make you cum.”

“h-how?” you question. sure, you've seen movies but you haven't exactly studied the details.

“i can use my mouth and fingers to make you feel good, just like you did for me, baby girl.” rafe explains, and you don't hesitate to nod.

“gonna have to take your pants off then, baby.” rafe explains, helping you stand up on slightly shaky legs as you pull your pants down, taking your underwear with it, not wanting to waste time before rafe helps you feel good.

“why don't you lay down?” he asks, running a finger over your cheek. you nod, laying down on your bed, head against your pillows, keeping your legs pressed firmly together, worried about how wet you are in your private area.

rafe climbs onto the bed, hovering his body over yours, admiring his tiny and innocent you look beneath him, despite being completely nude. he presses down, his cock rubbing against your stomach as he captures your mouth, tongue flicking into yours. you relax into the bed, feeling safe again getting kisses from your daddy.

“spread those legs for me.” he emplores you. “let me see your pretty little pussy.”

you part your thighs, rafe moving down your body, pressing kisses to your chest and stomach as he gets closer and closer to where you are craving.

he finally settles in between your legs, hands gripping your thighs. he stares at your glistening pussy, shiny with your wetness.

rafe slowly rubs his finger over your slit before parting your lips, his breath catching when he sees all of you. he leans in tongue falling out as he licks a wide stripe over your cunt.

“oh my god, rafe!” you cry out, back arching, having never experienced such a feeling before.

“you taste delicious, kiddo.” rafe says, burying his face in your cunt as he continues lapping over your cunt, overwhelming you with pleasure.

you whine as he switches to kissing, also giving your inner thighs some attention. he places his hand at the top of your cunt, pulling up to stretch out your skin as he leans in and gives your skin a kiss in a new spot, one that makes you scream, body shaking as you attempt to move away, the pleasure too much for you to take.

“shh, it's okay.” rafe says, moving back to kissing your thighs.

“what was that?” you question, breathing heavily, causing your chest to heave.

“that was your clit, baby. kissing that is like how i felt when you were kissing the tip.” he explains, not judging you for your inexperience. “can i keep going?”

“yes, daddy, please.” 

rafe listens, but makes sure to move slowly, getting you used to his mouth in the area as he licks around your clit without directly touching it. you moan out a mix of his name and daddy, blabbing about how good it is when his tongue flicks over your clit, sending another flood of wetness over your cunt.

“good girl.” rafe says quickly, hoping that's all the praise you need to be comfortable, not wanting to take his mouth off of your pussy as he concentrates on your clit, going from holding his tongue flat against it to flicking quickly, showing you all the different types of things he can do to pleasure you.

“st-stop.” you say, trying to shove rafes head away when you feel something building in you, not wanting to topple over the edge. “it's too much!” you shout, but rafe does something new, taking your clit between his lips and sucking it in his mouth.

“im gonna- im gonna-” you sob out some sort of warning, unsure of what is actually going to happen as your sobs shift into a scream, your hips picking up off the bed as you try to squeeze them shut, but rafes hand pushes your thighs to keep them open.

you fall over whatever edge you were on, vision going black as shaking overtakes your body, and controversially to what your were trying to do earlier, you now press your cunt into rafes face as he keeps sucking, working you through your high as he pets your thighs, hoping the bit of soft loving attention helps you through it.

“oh my god, daddy.” you whine, tears streaming down your face as he pulls off, pressing a kiss to your cunt before moving up your body, pulling you against him as he flips, allowing you to rest against his chest.

“it's okay, baby, breathe.” he soothes you, his hand rubbing over your back.

“that was really good.” you tell rafe after a minute of struggling to get your breath back. “thank you daddy.” you lean in and give him a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

“want to keep going? or we can be done for tonight if that's what you need, little baby.” rafe says, wanting to take things at your pace, especially after seeing how explosive your orgasm was.

“more.” you say, slotting your leg over rafes body, pressing your chest into his, rubbing your nipples against his skin as you connect your lips, this time taking control of the kiss.

you rub your cunt against rafes abs, soaking them in your slick.

“baby-” rafe warns as you move down, rubbing your cunt over his cock.

“fuck me, daddy.” you say, wanting to feel good together.

“let me-” rafe tries to get out, but you push his cock against your hole, trying to slide down when your get a flare of pain, shouting and pulling off.

“baby girl, you have to let me finger you first. as much as i want you right now, ive got to open you up since it's your first time.” rafe explains, and you whimper out, nodding.

“come sit on my tummy, come on.” rafe tugs your hips, and you move so you're sat on his abs, leaning back slightly so your cunt is on show.

“let me know if it hurts, okay?” rafe says, his hands rubbing over your inner thighs, admiring how tiny you are even when sat on top of him.

“i will daddy.” you hum as he strokes his pointer finger over your cunt, making sure to get it thoroughly wet. he moves down to your entrance, circling it before pressing the tip of his finger against it, breaking through the tight ring of muscle. 

“oh, fuck.” you cry out, reaching behind you to grip rafes hips for stability.

rafe can move easily with one finger because of how wet you are, pushing all the way in with relative ease, but he can feel how you're still squeezing around him.

“gonna add a second, okay.” rafe gives you a warning, not wanting to take too long before he can get inside of you, needing to be buried in your cunt.

rafe pushes a second finger in, making you whine at the sudden stretch. he moves in and out with pace, not letting you focus on the pain as pleasure quickly overtakes you.

“there you go, stay nice and relaxed for me little one.” rafe says, and you make an effort to breathe and keep your legs from going taut as he scissors his fingers, thumb coming to rub over your clit when he sees your face twist in pain.

“i know it hurts, baby, but trust your daddy. gonna make it feel all better.” he says softly, wanting to pull you down into another kiss but knowing you need to focus on staying calm at the moment.

“it's okay, i do trust you daddy.” you say, voice breathy.

“love you so much.” rafe says, flicking over your clit as you cry out, never having heard rafe say the words to you before, but of course he does, he's your step dad after all. 

“please, inside me, p-please.” you moan out.

“okay, fuck-” rafe curses out. “okay.” he takes his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth to clean off before flipping so you're on your back on the bed, his body hovering over yours, hips slotted between yours like he was meant to be there. 

“im gonna try and go slow.” rafe says, the key word there being try. he knows how hard it's been to resist you this long, it's going to be even harder to control himself once he's inside you.

rafe grabs his cock, rubbing the tip over your messy cunt before lining up with your entrance, sinking forward as he pushes inside of your heat. you cry out, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders, needing the connection to get through this as his hips press all the way in, his cock lodged deep inside of you.

“breathe through it, baby girl.” rafe says, stroking your hips with his large hands as you take a stuttering breath, adjusting to his length inside you.

you circle your hips, brows furrowed as you get used to the sensation. you press up, then down, moving yourself while he stays still, allowing you to explore.

“i-i gotta move baby.” rafe finally says, and you nod, still keeping him squeezed close to you as his hips move back, his cock sliding almost completely out of you before pushing back in, keeping his self control by moving slowly.

“this is what a good step daddy does?” you ask, rubbing your hand over the back of his head.

“yes, i take care of you, baby.” rafe says, burying his head in your neck, kissing the sensitive skin there.

“i love you daddy.” you tell rafe, clenching your cunt around him when he starts to move faster, rafe letting a grunt out against your skin.

“so good for me, little one. our little secret.” rafe picks up speed, his cock stretching you open, making space for himself.

“can we-” you gasp out when he pushes all the way in, his hips rubbing against your clit. “can we keep doing this? even when mom gets back?” now that you've felt this level of pleasure, you don't want to go back to going without it.

“of course, baby. we just have to be careful.” he says, sucking a light hickey into your neck, one that should heal before your mom gets back.

“is it bad?” you ask, even as you spread your thighs apart more, “is it bad that we are doing this? won't mom be mad if she finds out?”

“baby, don't worry about that.” he sighs, picking his head up to look you in the eye. “just focus on how good you feel. i love you, i don't love your mom like this.”

“you don't?” you question, eyebrows raising up.

“the love a daddy feels for his little girl is different.” rafe says, pressing his cock as deep as he can inside of you, and you swear he's all the way into your stomach.

“you don't fuck her like this?” 

“no, only you. my little girl.” rafe kisses you, and you moan into the kiss, moving your legs to wrap around his hips, raising and lowering yourself to meet his thrusts.

“my little baby. my sweet girl.” rafe moans, his cock swelling inside of you. “gonna cum inside you, baby. we are gonna feel so good together.”

he moves one of the hands that's gripping your hip to your cunt, rubbing his fingers right over your clit harshly, needing you to cum at the same time as him.

“daddy-” you gasp, throwing your head back, “daddy, you can't, i'll get pregnant.”

“it's okay, little one.” rafe pants, struggling to hold himself back any longer. “cum for me. don't think about getting pregnant. you'd look so cute for me with your tummy all swelled up. gonna fill you with my cum, put a baby in you.”

“yes, yes!” you cry out, rafes fingers pushing you to the edge as his orgasm finally hits, cumming with a shake as he pumps you full, filling your cunt with all of the cum he has to offer. he keeps pumping despite feeling oversensitive, wanting to make sure he stuffs you.

“fuck, daddy!” you whine, pushing his hand away from your clit when it becomes too much.

“my good girl, shh.” rafe presses your lips together, carefully pulling his cock out of you, looking down as his cum slides out of your hole. he reaches down with one hand, ignoring your whine as he pushes his fingers, and the cum, back into your pussy. rafe smirks to himself as you moan, grasping at him with your little hands, thinking to himself that getting her innocent young daughter pregnant is the perfect way for your mom to ask for a divorce.

[neil-gaiman]

Will you read this? Eh, perhaps. You're a busy man with quite a lot of asks. But there is a very human part of me that wants to say my piece because I owe you quite a bit of thanks. And I shall express this thanks with a story of my first words.

When I was 2, approaching 3, years old my parents were worried I'd never speak. The child therapist we went to - quite an old bat if you ask me, considering the stories I've heard, but what do I know I was 2 - had told them to ever give up hope of hearing my voice.

On the way back from the appointment, my Godmother - the driver of the car used to take me to the doctor - stopped by a small bookshop and took me inside so my mother could weep appropriately out of line of her child. We went inside and she told me to look around for a book for myself. She knew I loved books - wasn't sure if I was reading them or not, but knew that I at least liked looking at them and wanted to keep me occupied.

I apparently stumbled around for a while, grabbed one small book off the shelf and plopped my little arse right down and started flipping through. About fifteen minutes go by - and my mother has thoroughly cried herself dry - and my Godmother comes up to me and scoops me up with the book.

I - being the obstinate two year old that I am - refuse to let go of said book and it's only about 50 American cents so she simply buys me the book.

For the next few weeks I only carry around the book. I do not touch any of my other toys or stuffed animals, only the very small picture book. I sleep with it under my pillow, carry it around happily, flip through it every so often.

And then one unassuming day, at the dinner table - with a set of non-prepared parents - boldly yelled out my first words ever: Blueberry Girl.

Now, I'm sure you've figured out at this point of the story that the book my little self was holding was none other than your boo Blueberry Girl - and this is where my thanks comes. I have spent the last sixteen or so years since first acquiring it repeating the words to myself, asking Ladies of Light and Ladies of Darkness and Ladies of Never-You-Mind to watch over me if they could spare moments of their time. I repeat them whenever I have a difficult test, and even in the few moments right before my graduation speech of high school.

So thank you for the words that touched my little soul and stuck with me till now.

You are so very, very welcome.

[tender-rosiey]

hii! I hope youre doing well ^^ n I have a request!

Fatherhood Gojo, Yuta and Suguru (separate) seeing their daughter have a love interest

let’s say the daughter is like 4-5, just started school with a strong start, one day when they come to pick up their kid— they see a boy that’s also 4-5, giving their daughter flowers or something, how would they react?

(I can imagine mother!reader being delighted at the sight, gojo being dramatic, Yuta being stressed out, and Suguru having a polite smile but yet clenching his fist LMFAO)

“I WILL THROW HANDS AT ANYONE EVEN A KID"

— gojo, sukuna, and suguru seeing their five year old daughter with a love interest (f!reader)

a/n: here you go go <33 i am so sorry bae that I couldn't include yuuta 😭

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter is naturally charismatic.

satoru wholeheartedly believes that it is something she has inherited from him.

you disagree because you can’t remember anybody who remained friends with satoru after actually talking to him, aside from those forced to, of course.

now another thing that satoru believes is that said charisma is a double-edged sword. from one side, his daughter is able to make friends quickly which gives him a piece of mind.

on the other side, the thing that makes his vein pop is the fact that filthy dirt-covered boys approach her.

he thought he had solved that problem when he scared away that last kid during her ballet class , but it seems there are always people who are competing for her heart.

he didn’t expect to run into one today though, especially not one blatantly gifting her a bouquet in front of the school gates.

the kid is a blushing mess as he gives the bouquet to her, and your daughter is nothing less than ecstatic. she jumps around, really happy with her bouquet and squealing about how pretty it is.

the little boy smiles timidly as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, mumbling something that satoru can’t be bothered to care about.

the only things occupying his mind are two: the kid who dares to even speak to his daughter and you with your cute smile because you’re happy for her.

so, he arranges things as he prioritizes him.

he presses one big smooch to your cheek and squishes you in an ever so love-filled hug.

then he proceeds to make his way to deal with the kid who is making moves on his little baby.

he towers behind the boy, and before his little girl greets him, satoru carries the kid from his scruff and throws him in the ball pit conveniently placed beside him.

the kid screams as he falls into the ball-filled abyss.

hurriedly, he gathers his daughter in his arms and showers her with kisses. he nuzzles his nose into her cheek, “how was your day, honey?”

“it was so nice, papa!” she says happily them gets out the bouquet she was given, “and I even got this bouquet!”

“oh, really?” he hums as he takes the bouquet from her hands into his. he inspects it, distaste filling his expression.

you walk to him with a little pep in your step and place your hand around his shoulder, while you kiss your daughter’s cheek.

she squeals a delightful, “mama!” and throws herself into your arms.

you guys quickly get caught in your own conversations, not noticing satoru quickly releasing his technique blue at the poor bouquet making it effectively disappear from existence.

another day saved.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

being the daughter of ryomen sukuna had its perks.

people strayed away and kept their distance. however, your daughter was a natural sweetheart—ironic considering her father but anyway.

that meant that little boys around estate had a tiny little crush on her which they would never act upon since they do want to continue living.

of course, there is an exception to the norm.

and that exception came in the form of a little servant boy presenting your daughter with a bunch of flowers that he had plucked himself.

your daughter was taken back, and she got flustered but accepted the flowers, nonetheless. on the other hand, you were watching from the side lines and were cheering both her and the boy on.

it was an innocent little gesture between kids. no harm done, so there was no need for—

“what the hell is this?”

you feel your husband’s menacing aura, before you hear his words. you turn to him and rest your hands on his chest and say, “d/n got flowers! isn’t that cute?”

“I can see that,” he grumbles, pinching your cheek in annoyance then directing his gaze to the kids, “but why the hell is a little good-for-nothing servant approaching my daughter? in fact, these servants should not be allowed to talk to her so casually.”

“sukuna, it’s not that big of a deal. just let them be,” you huff, “it’s not like she will fall in love with him, and he will convince her to overthrow you when they’re older.”

your husband stays quiet for a few moments. the man looks like he is actually considering the scenario that you just suggested.

and judging by him slowly approaching the kids, sukuna is going to go with the “better safe than sorry” approach.

you quickly run after him and jump on his back, “love, love, I was joking! please don’t kill him!”

sukuna groans, “and why should I listen to you?”

“cause you love me, and I love you? and we’re husband and wife, y’know?” you smile nervously, and he sets you down, so he can look you in the eye.

“I don’t love you,” he states.

“so I don’t love you?” you inquire.

he smirks, “no, that’s different. you’re obviously infatuated by me.”

“no, loving you is an effect of you loving me, so according to you,” you turn your back to him, “I don’t love you.”

he is about to retort when he feels something holding onto his leg. he looks down, and he sees his daughter beaming up at him.

she raises the flowers as high as she could and chirps, “dad, I got these flowers!”

sukuna’s eyes snap to where the kid was and finds no one. he fled, and he didn’t get to memorize his face. he slowly turns his face to you, and you stand there smirking at him.

he quirks an eyebrow at you, “oh? well, I will deal with you later tonight.”

GETO SUGURU:

you were busy watching over your daughter playing with her playdate. the little boy was your neighbour’s son, and, in general, he was good company.

the boy was polite and knew how to treat your little girl right. similarly, your little girl cherishes him very much and always rambles about him at dinner.

now, initially, suguru was okay with it.

he thought that maybe she was excited about her playdate and that it would eventually wear off, but then she started talking about him every single day since she met him.

suguru prides himself on being rational and collected. he wouldn’t stoop down to a level that gojo would. gojo was a manchild, but suguru? suguru is a grown man, a husband, and a father.

so, no, he won’t do anything to the boy.

and he certainly isn’t rushing to the playdate location, so he can stop the boy from making his daughter talk about him more.

one of his curses was watching the kids, and said curse picked up on the boy sneaking a flower behind his back. suguru concluded that he was definitely going to give it to her.

your husband finally arrives, handing you your ice cream and kissing the top of your head, “your ice cream, just how you like it, love.”

“aww, thank you, suguru,” you say as you hug him and pepper his face with kisses. suguru gets lost in your affection, forgetting about his supposed mission.

it’s not until that he notices the boy’s parents standing with the two kids that he remembers it.

“how about we go and see what the kids are up to?” he asks you, a bit urgently, and you nod, knowing what your husband is thinking.

it’s lowkey funny.

the boy’s mother takes notice of you two approaching, “oh hello mr and mrs geto!”

“hello miss c/n! are the kids getting along well?” you smile while patting your daughter’s head.

the mother giggles, “more than well, in fact. our little boy has given little d/n a flower today!”

from the corner of your eye, you can see your husband’s smile tighten and his face get stiffer and stiffer by the second.

you take his hand into your own and slowly rub it with your thumb. it does little to calm him down.

he claps his hand lightly and steps in front of the parents and says kindly, “please take your little shi—”

he feels you kick his foot from the back and quickly corrects his wording, “please distance your ki—”

you discreetly stomp on his foot, and he tries his hardest to keep his smile. he sighs defeated and hangs his head low, defeated as he mumbles, “have a nice day.”

you nod in satisfaction, and your daughter giggles.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Satoru Gojo

Summary: Satoru struggles with his two babies.

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

*I used the two babies from baby steps for this, but you don't have to read to enjoy the fluffy oneshot🥹

“C’mon, Seiji. Vegetables are so good. yummy.” Satoru is trying to bribe his almost-two-year-old into eating the rest of his food, alas, he doesn’t sound too convincing. He tasted the vegetables, they aren’t too good but you cooked them so he isn’t going to bash them. Seiji really doesn’t care about not hurting anybody’s feelings at this stage of his life, so even though his dearest mother made them, he refuses to eat them.

Satoru sighs defeatedly, putting the fork down. He guesses Seiji doesn’t have to eat vegetables every day to grow strong. He picks Seiji up from the high chair, putting him down on the ground to allow him to walk around and do whatever he likes to do. Lately Seiji loves to play with any piece of trash he finds, making Satoru realize that he’s wasted thousands of dollars on toys.

“Don’t be too loud! Don’t wake your sister up.” Satoru yells, knowing that Seiji really doesn’t care about that. The baby only has one thought in his mind and that’s to play with whatever he gets his hands on. 

Satoru really thought that handling two babies under two would be a breeze, he’s the strongest, he can accomplish just about anything… But his two kids tire him out. Saori cries so much that he anticipates in horror the moment that she wakes up. Seiji never stops moving, it’s nearly impossible to get him to stand still for a moment. He loves his babies more than anything, but he’s rightfully tired.

Satoru is being the best husband that he can be by taking care of his babies while you study and finish up your degree. But two tiny humans are slowly ending his life. Satoru follows Seiji around, deciding to just let him wander around the house because Seiji hates to be put in his playpen lately.

“Dada.” Seiji points up when he gets to the stairs, looking back at his father. Satoru shakes his head, picking up Seiji and taking him back to the living room so he can find something there that he can engross himself with. Seiji makes sure to let out a dramatic cry because he hates being carried and contradicted. He doesn’t want to go to the living room, he wants to go upstairs.

“Crying isn’t going to do anything, baby. You’re staying down here.” Satoru says as he carries Seiji away. Seiji makes sure to yell,

“Down! Down!” Which actually works on Satoru today because he doesn’t want Seiji to wake up the sleeping baby. When his tiny feet hit the ground, Seiji begins to run around which isn’t really an issue for Satoru since he only has to take two steps to catch up to Seiji.

It’s boring, really, but he prefers walking after his toddler better than trying to entertain both babies while they’re awake. Seiji doesn’t care for his parents' attention until Saori is awake; when she’s awake he wants to become the center of attention.

Satoru really thinks he’s safe, until he hears her cries from upstairs, and the loudest sigh leaves his lips. He picks Seiji up, making him kick his feet and cry, demanding that he’s put down. Luckily for him, his father listens to his wishes and puts him down. Unluckily for him, he’s put down in the playpen that lately feels like a prison. 

“No! Out!” Seiji demands, but Satoru doesn’t listen. He leaves Seiji there while he goes upstairs to pick up Saori from her crib.

When he gets there, he notices his baby girl is sitting up, waiting for him to finally pick her up. He coos, approaching the crib and picking her up, “Hi my sunshine. Did you sleep well?”

She doesn’t stop crying so easily though. He changes her diaper, and the crying gets worse. He tickles her tummy, laughing to himself, “Aren’t you a hungry girl? You ate one hour ago too.”

He guesses he can’t blame her, a bottle of milk wouldn’t be enough to hold him over either… But he guesses he’s four times her size and two decades older than her. He exits the room, getting more irritated by the second with the crying baby that’s in his arms. 

He begins to walk down the stairs, and that’s when he sees a little rascal holding to the railing and trying to walk upstairs. His eyes widen, his first thought being: how the hell did Seiji escape his playpen? Seiji finally looks up, seeing his father at the top of the stairs. He lets go of the railing, his hands going over his tiny mouth, his signature move for when he gets caught.

Satoru watches it happen in slow motion. Seiji’s tiny feet on the edge of the stair, he tips over and falls back from the stairs until he’s back on the first floor again. At least Seiji was only on the third stair up so it wasn’t a long fall– However, he cries his heart out as if he was at the very top.

“Seiji, how the hell did you even get out of the playpen?” Satoru is reasonably angry because he has two crying kids to soothe on his own. He doesn’t want to bother you while you study so it’s his problem, and only his. He doesn’t know which problem to tend to first. 

Satoru just knows one thing, and he hates thinking about it, but he wouldn’t be dealing with any of this if he had used a condom.

[bunnys-kisses]

single father simon (again!!!) ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

the apartment building felt bad for simon riley. a military man with a newborn daughter, his lovely little ruby with her tuft of blond hair and big curious dark eyes. she was a spitting image of her father, except compacted into a chubby little girl.

ruby was precious though, which was why as simon's neighbour you made sure the riley's were taken care of. you'd often bring over leftovers, telling simon that it was impossible to cook for one person.

"simon." you said with your hands on your hips, "if anyone tells you that you can make a lasagna for one person is lying or trying to sell you something... which means they're also lying. so take it!" you weren't taking no for an answer!

you even went as far as to donate to him one of your old onsies from when you were a baby (it wasn't like it was doing anything in storage). it was a pastel pink with an embroidered winnie the pooh. when simon saw you holding her after he put it on her, his heart leapt. he wanted to put all of his babies in the clothes you wore when you were a baby.

it wasn't that simon was finding another womb to occupy, but you were simply so good with ruby. when he had to drive out of the city and to base or had to sit on boring online debriefs. you were more than happy to watch ruby. you worked from home at a lackluster office job, you didn't mind having the little girl nearby! she brought a little excitement to the job when you identified objects in your office.

"this is a stapler! you use this to i guess.. staple pages together! s-t-a-p-l-e-r!" then smiled at the girl in the playpen.

the nail in the coffin for simon was when you were watching her for an afternoon and all of a sudden you were feverishly knocking on the door. in your arms was the little girl, she didn't look hurt. but you looked scared.

"i'm so sorry, simon..." you swallowed, "she said her first word. i know it said between ten to fourteen months, but! i didn't think it would be almost right at ten!"

"what did she say?" simon said as he beckoned you inside, a strong arm curled around your shoulders as you carried ruby.

you looked at him with a big frown before you said, "goddamnit... her first word was goddamnit." apparently you were cutting peppers for dinner and nicked your finger. you said the word and she parroted it!

simon knew you were going to be his bride. his missuses, the new mother to his baby girl and the future mother of all the other riley kids.

the electricity between you two aided in your eventual tumbling into bed. simon spread you out on the big queen mattress as let that large cock of his bully the deepest parts of your sex. simon made sure that ruby was safe with another (much older) neighbour so you wouldn't worry. (you were already becoming so much like a mother, it was honestly endearing!!).

simon managed to take you missionary, the mating press and finally ending with doggy style. your sweet moans only made him go harder. he needed to breed his future wife!! did he maybe forget to mention that he wasn't using protection, maybe. there was no evidence that he did or didn't. but when that little piece of plastic came back positive, he was there for you.

he knelt in front of you while you sat on the toilet. his large hand in your hair, "don't be sad, love. you're already a mother to ruby, why not give her a sibling? a little brother to bully." he then took your hands and kissed you on the cheek, "we'll be a family. we could even get married tomorrow if that makes you feel better?"

you'd be married at the courthouse within the week. simon in his military finest and you in a dress that you thrifted only days prior. you had even made you own veil and it turned out well. your bouquet was flowers stolen from the front of city hall. daisies, roses and a few dandelions.

he pulled you in for the kiss, a promise that you two would be together forever. and the two day honeymoon with just the two of you (and technically the baby you carried) was nothing short of romantic. you stayed in the city, but you two played tourist. you both didn't want to be too far away from ruby. after all she was so small.

soon you became the mother of two with a loving husband. ruby and her future brother that was sound asleep in your womb as you laid cuddled up next to simon. maybe his methods were a little unorthodox to bag himself a proper mama for his daughter. but you melted into the role so easily.

"my beautiful wife." he said with his voice tinged with utter devotion. he didn't want another woman to be his daughter's mother! only you, and he had the ring to prove it.

you were the perfect wife to him and the perfect mother to ruby. and you'd only get better with your son on the way. <3

[slu7formen]

But imagine homewrecker!Luke x fem Aphrodite!reader, where reader’s already in a relationship but Luke just wants her sooo bad, so he flirts with her when no ones looking, teases her, and absolute shits on the man shes’s with in every opportunity he gets (there’s a scene from Avatar legend of Korra where she says to Mako “yeah, but when you’re with her you’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” And I can see him saying the same thing to her while giving her the most devius smirk EVER) she’s only “human” so she gives in eventually and it could be smut in the end (could you pretty please write something like this <33)

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

idk who you are but you’re a genius, I fucking love you for this

warnings: luke’s a home wrecker but that OKAY because it’s him, also he’s so mean, kinda possessive, mention of masturbation, lil smut towards the end (oral, f receiving)

₊˚⊹♡

Another night. Sleep, the supposed thing he´s been wanting all day, remained out of reach. It had been like this for weeks, a relentless torment that gnawed at his insides with the intensity of a starving Furie. And who´s fault was it? You.

He groaned against his pillow, the sheet sticking uncomfortably to his sweaty torso. Night after night, it was the same, but he couldn´t help himself, how could he keep himself from thinking about you? Being an Aphrodite´s daughter, you simply stood out from the rest, but there was something more.

The way you carried yourself; applying the smallest amount of makeup that managed to accentuate your features, making your eyes sparkle and your lips look impossibly kissable. Your voice, seductive even when you didn´t mean for it to be. Even the hideous orange camp shirt, a piece of clothing that seemed designed to make someone look dowdy, couldn't diminish your aura. He could practically smell the faint scent of your perfume, a mix of coconut and something inexplicably you, that lingered in the air even after you’d left.

It was an obsession, a problem. He wasn´t naive though, he knew he wasn't the only one who felt this way about you. How boys tripped on their own feet and walk straight into trees because of you, but that was then. Because there was a tiny, slight problem now.

You were taken.

The feeling was hot and acid. You weren't his to have. You belonged to someone else, a possession proudly displayed by your ever-present boyfriend, a hulking son of Ares who never seemed to leave your side. And Luke shouldn’t feel this way, he knows it. He shouldn't feel the hot wave of need to break the guy´s jaw every time he saw you with him.

You were happy, he was sure of it, you showed it. Your mother was the goddess of love, so you surely enjoyed it when you had it wrapped around your hands. But with him, you could be even happier. You deserved more. You deserved him. Luke let out a low growl, no-, he deserved you.

Luke could take everything you had for him and more, things that he was sure, your boyfriend couldn´t, and never will be able to.

He should feel scared about some Hypnos kid sweeping into his dreams accidentally and taking a glimpse of his dreams. How he wanted to begin to play, to have his own fun. He was determined to play for keeps.

And you, his prize, would be his reward.

Luke wasn't stupid. He wouldn't blatantly flaunt his desires in front of your man. No, his approach was far more subtle, a slow burn.

It started with those little greetings. A passing "Hey there, pretty" as he walked by you on his way to archery practice, his armor straps purposefully being adjusted in a way that accentuated the broadness of his shoulders. You'd respond with a simple "Hi" a smile playing on your glossy lips as you continued your conversation with your sister, both of you blissfully unaware of the first move in his carefully calculated game.

He began weaving himself into your periphery, appearing near you at mealtimes, offering unsolicited help with chores, lingering just a tad too long during conversations.

It couldn't be denied, Luke was undeniably handsome. You always knew he was attractive, a dark-haired rebel with an edge that appealed to a certain kind of girl. He had a way of carrying himself, a cocky self-assurance that some could find arrogant, but others, like you, couldn't help but find strangely magnetic. Being a daughter of Aphrodite, you were keenly aware of the power of charm, and Luke possessed it in spades.

You found yourself strangely drawn to it.

But he had to act faster than that.

He'd find you reading under a tree, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves and casting an ethereal glow around you. He'd saunter over, a slow, predatory grace in his movements.

"Mind if I join you, beautiful?"

You looked up, rolling your eyes playfully. "My boyfriend's gonna kill you if he hears you calling me that" you chuckled, flipping a page of your book.

Luke, for a split second, allowed a flicker of irritation to cross his features, quickly masked by a sardonic smile. "Blame it on your mother, then. I can't help but speak the truth."

You couldn't help but bite your lip, a laugh bubbling up in your chest as he settled next to you comfortably, arm bumping your own.

"What are you reading?" he asked, his voice dropping a fraction lower as he leaned closer, the scent of leather filling your senses.

You mumbled the title, the close proximity of his body making you uncomfortably aware of the heat radiating from him. It took him a hot minute to open his mouth again, a almost mockery sigh escaping his lips as he leaned back on his elbows.

"You know," he began, his voice dropping even lower, "Your boyfriend doesn't seem to be around much lately."

You bit your lip, a mixture of annoyance and something else entirely bubbling within you. "He has his own training schedule, Luke" you pointed out, your voice taking on a slight comprehensive edge.

He nodded slowly, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Of course" he drawled, stretching the word out like a piece of taffy. "But it´s been quite some time, right? Does he always leave you alone like this?"

You shrugged your shoulders. “He doesn´t” you stammered. “He´s just-, busy”

Busy. In summer. Gods, you were so…

Fucking cute.

He couldn't help but find it incredibly mesmerizing and astonishing, the way you were so transparently in love with your boyfriend, a love that Luke was determined to break, piece by piece. It only fueled his perverse desire to rip that very love away, to replace your blind devotion with a burning desire for him. He didn't want to break your heart — not exactly. He just wanted to re-route it, to steer its affection towards him.

The once-casual hangouts became more frequent. Tonight, you found yourself huddled next to him at the flickering bonfire. You chat casually, occasionally finding yourself hypnotized by the way his adam´s apple bobbed up and down every time he spoke.

“New skirt?” he then asked. He knew he shouldn't be looking, shouldn't have allowed his gaze to drop to the way the fabric clung to your thighs, drawing his attention to the delicious way they were pressed together ever since the moment you sat down. Yet, he couldn't help himself. The image seared itself into his memory, a forbidden fruit he desperately wanted to taste.

"Yeah" you chirped, a playful lilt in your voice. "You noticed?" There was a glint in your eyes, a spark of something that made his pulse quicken. Had he ever noticed your clothes before? Gods, yes, he knew every article in your meager wardrobe — the worn out oxford jeans, the simple white t-shirts that hugged your curves just perfectly, the tight cargo shorts, and now, this new skirt that showcased your legs in a way that made his blood run hot.

But he wouldn´t tell you that.

"Of course I noticed" he replied, forcing a casualness he didn't feel.

"Really?" you pressed, looking down at your clothes.

"You're impossible to miss” he pointed out. “It´s pretty” one of his fingers playfully tugged at the edge of your skirt, stealing a short giggle from you.

Your smile faltered for a moment though, a flicker of something crossing your face that Luke couldn't quite decipher. “He didn´t notice, you know?” you say.

A smug satisfaction bloomed in Luke's chest. Now, what could be better fuel for his twisted plan than a little unspoken resentment towards your oblivious boyfriend?

"Didn't notice?" he feigned obliviousness, milking the moment for all its worth.

"The skirt" you explain, kicking your feet playfully in the dirt. "Don´t really know why I care, though. He doesn't pay much attention to these things”

There it was, the confirmation he craved. Your fucking dumb boyfriend was failing you in all the ways that truly mattered. And Luke, oh, Luke was more than happy to fill that void.

In the mean way.

"Well, he's an idiot then" Luke stated firmly, his voice low and intense.

“Luke” you whined.

“What?” he cut you off with a humorless laugh, the sound tinged with a bitterness that made you uneasy. "Is it because of his busy schedule?" he mocked, his eyes narrowing. “Can’t say nice things to his girlfriend?”

You stared at him for a moment, your gaze unwavering. Your brows furrowed in a frown, and you tilted your head slightly, studying him with an intensity that made Luke suddenly feel analyzed. You leaned in, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. The movement brought you closer. His breath hitched a second as your eyes met his, framed by those long, mesmerizing lashes. It was as if you were looking not just at him, but right through him, searching for something.

"Why do you hate him so much?" you blurted out, the question tumbling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

Luke scoffed, the sound harsh and dismissive. "I don't hate him" he stated, but his voice lacked conviction. You raised your eyebrows, hiding a smile forming on your lips. “Hey, I mean it” he insisted, playfully pushing at your shoulder. "Just… feels like you're with someone who doesn't pay attention to you" he continued, his voice low and intense.

The casual tone he used, disarming and friendly, made you physically jolt a little. Luke managed to bite his tongue, swallow the jealousy and anger like a thick pill. He was a master manipulator. He wouldn't play his hand this early.

Unease settled in your stomach. "It's not always like that" you mumbled defensively.

"No?" he countered, his gaze unwavering. The firelight danced in his eyes, you couldn't help but look away, his intensity a little too much to handle.

"No" you repeated, your voice barely a whisper. "It's not his fault he's not interested in the things I like."

"Yeah, but you’re interested in everything about him, right?" Luke pressed, his voice soft but laced with something like a challenge, making you think twice before you answer.

His words hit a nerve, and you found yourself looking down at your lap, picking at a loose thread on your skirt. He was right, of course.

The silence stretched. A slow, teasing smile played on Luke's lips. He saw the doubt creeping into your eyes, the seed of discontent he'd been carefully planting beginning to sprout.

"You should find someone else, sweetheart" he said finally, his voice a husky murmur. He reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair that had escaped your braid and gotten caught in your earring.

You met his gaze, your eyes wide and searching. The playful banter had completely vanished, replaced by a tension so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.

"There are a couple of guys out there," he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "who would kill for you to even look at them." He punctuated his sentence with a quick wink.

You breath out a nervous laugh, heat flooding to your cheeks. "You're such a drama queen, Luke" you finally managed, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"’M not sure about that" he conceded, leaning back slightly, but never taking his eyes off you. "But sometimes that´s what you need. A little drama, excitement. Could make you see things a little clearer”

Days went by, and the conversation with Luke replayed on loop in your head.

´Drama. Excitement´

On the surface, everything seemed fine. Your boyfriend was kind, reliable, everything you thought you wanted. It felt comfortable and safe, yet… predictable. That sparkle that Luke talked about, that was absent.

You´d try to shake off your thoughts. One moment you'd convince yourself it was all a silly game you were willing to play. The next, you'd find yourself lost in a daydream, picturing Luke's dark eyes burning into yours, his voice, his touch. You tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, telling yourself he was just a friend, a confidante.

But the traitorous part of you craved more.

Luke, meanwhile, felt like a predator closing in on his prey. Your growing confusion fueled his ambition, every stolen glance, every conversation, a victory in his twisted and sick game. He watched your boyfriend with growing contempt, the sight of his hand roaming in the curves of your body making him clench his fists in rage. It should be him, Luke, pulling you close at night in his bed, whispering in your ear. He yearned to see you smile for him. He yearned to claim you, to make you his own for once and for all.

So his façade started to fall off. His possessiveness became more blatant, his touches lingering a fraction of a second too long. His calculating approach was slowly giving way to a burning need, a possessive hunger he couldn't suppress much longer.

One night at the bonfire, while everyone enjoyed a good time and shared laughter and music, Luke didn´t see you there. He shifted his gaze to his surroundings, his attention snagged on the figure of you nestled deeper into the shadows.

As usual, you were captivating, your animated expression and rapid-fire gestures suggesting a heated conversation with someone unseen. The distance made it impossible to discern the words, but the set of your jaw and the slight flush creeping up your neck told a clear story – you were arguing.

Then he noticed. It was your boyfriend.

And as soon as he saw you storm off in anger, alone, into the woods. He followed.

He kept a safe distance, ensuring you wouldn't notice his presence. The woods, shrouded in darkness except for the occasional sliver of moonlight filtering through the leaves, were easy to navigate for him. Finally, he spotted you. You were huddled on the floor, your knees drawn up to your chest, a muffled groan escaping your lips.

“Hey” he called out softly.

You spun around. Luke´s figure stood behind you, hands in his cargo pockets, the shadows painting his face. “Hi” you reply, getting on your feet again, turning to him.

He knew what he wanted to say, what he needed to say for you to dip into his arms. But he was good at playing dumb too, so he waited a little more.

"Um… is everything alright?" he asked, feigning concern.

You crossed your arms over your chest, a shadow of your earlier anger flickering in your eyes. "Yeah, just…" you trailed off, searching for the right words. "Feeling the need to punch something that's not my boyfriend's face."

A sardonic chuckle escaped Luke's lips. "Now that's a feeling I can relate to," he said, taking a tentative step closer. You shot him a glare. “That´s a joke, sweetheart” he added. He didn´t manage to make you laugh, but you rolled your eyes and your lips curved into a small smile.

You leaned back against the rough bark of a tree, letting out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" Luke's voice asked, gently. He was standing a few feet away from you.

"It's been like this for days" you finally began, your voice thick with frustration. "And it's my fault. He says I'm acting weird, different, like something's in my head” You sigh “And maybe he's right."

Luke followed your gaze as it drifted to a patch of wildflowers growing at your feet. "So he just can't stand you having second thoughts about your relationship?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

You bristled at his words. "I never said I'm having second thoughts," you defended, a spark of defiance igniting in your eyes.

"But you are" he countered, his voice low and steady.

You shook your head, the movement sharp and jerky. "No" you insisted, a tremor in your voice betraying a touch of uncertainty. "I don't want to leave him, but…" Your voice trailed off, and you shifted your gaze, avoiding his eyes. "That conversation we had," you continued softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "what you said. It got me thinking."

A surge of satisfaction coursed through Luke. Bingo. He'd managed to plant the seeds of doubt, to make you question a relationship that once seemed solid.

"Yeah?" he pressed, his voice barely a murmur, encouraging you to elaborate.

You paused, your brow furrowed in concentration. It was strange, you were confiding in him, this boy who was practically your opposite. Yet, his words had resonated with you, stirred something you hadn't quite acknowledged before.

"Or maybe you're just trying to get to my head 'cause you never liked him" you suddenly accused, a hint of suspicion coloring your voice.

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "Maybe" he admitted shamelessly.

Doubt flickered in your eyes, chasing away the spark of defiance just as quickly as it appeared. "What are you trying to do, Luke?" you asked, your voice dropping to a soft whisper. "It feels like you're always trying to say something else to me," you continued, your voice barely above a breath, "but you never do."

The way you spoke, the vulnerability in your tone, it wrapped around Luke's brain and squeezed. His ears popped, a strange sensation accompanying the warmth that spread through his chest. You noticed. You saw the shift within him, the way his carefully constructed facade began to crack.

"Do you want me to be honest?" he finally asked, his voice husky and laced with a dangerous honesty.

You nodded, mesmerized by the raw intensity radiating from him. Gods, you were so naive, so blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within him. Luke wouldn't, couldn't, reveal the full extent of his obsession. He wouldn't confess to the months he'd spent dreaming about you, the way he'd snuck into your cabin late at night to steal something from your dresser, just to have a piece of you close. He wouldn´t confess how he let his mind race to the most sinful places, digging into thoughts about you that would eventually leave to him jerking one off in the bathroom.

He wasn't going to scare you away. No, his plan was far more subtle, a slow seduction that would eventually have you falling helplessly into his arms. He was going to peel back his facade just enough, letting you see a glimpse of the man beneath the rebellious exterior, a man who craved you and would treat you the way you deserved.

So he took another step closer.

"I can't stop thinking about you, yn" he confessed, his voice a husky murmur that sent shivers down your spine. The words hit you like a physical blow, unexpected and raw. A scoff escaped your lips, a nervous reaction to the sudden shift in the dynamic. You looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

“Gods, Luke, you´re-,” you cut yourself off when his fingers brushed against your chin, gently tilting your face back towards his.

"It's true" he continued, his voice laced with a desperate honesty. "And I can't handle the fact that you're with someone who doesn't deserve you."

“Don´t be ridiculous, Luke” you say.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze roaming over your face. "You're perfect, yn" he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "So beautiful, so smart. And you know it. Yet you settle for someone who takes you for granted. That's a little dumb of you, isn't it?"

The last sentence, delivered with a playful smirk, should have stung. It should have made you angry. But instead, a strange warmth bloomed in your chest. Perhaps it was the forbidden nature of the conversation, the way he was making you feel like a coveted prize.

And a terrible truth dawned on you - you weren't entirely innocent in this either. You had been feeling the same pull towards him, a flicker of something that went beyond friendship. You had enjoyed his attention, his way of seeing you, of truly seeing you.

But the reality of the situation slammed into you. "I have a boyfriend" you finally managed to say, your voice laced with a desperate attempt at determination.

He let out a chuckle, easily stepping on the thought of your boyfriend like some slug. "That´s a reminder to nobody but you, sweetheart"

Another tense silence. Luke raised his hand, placing it on the rough bark of the tree behind you, effectively trapping you.

"I know you've been thinking about what I said" he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of doubt, any flicker of vulnerability. And he found it.

Doubt, like a poisonous vine, slowly crept through your mind. His words, his raw honesty, had shaken the foundation of your relationship.

"But you think too much of it, angel" he continued, his voice a seductive coo. He used the nickname with such ease, as if it had always been his right.

He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking to a hair's breadth. His hand reached out, a single finger tracing the delicate outline of your jawline.

"There's nothing wrong with having a little fun sometimes" he whispered. "It's what you want, after all, right?” he tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. "Nobody's going to judge you" he continued, his voice a seductive promise. "It's just you and me. A little secret between us."

Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Every fiber of your being screamed that this was wrong, a betrayal of everything you held dear. Yet, a part of you, a selfish, yearning part, craved the thrill he offered.

"Don't get me wrong, Luke" you began, your voice trembling slightly. "I… I want this" you confessed, the words catching in your throat. "But I can't. I'm taken and you know it." The words tasted bitter on your tongue, a lie even to your own ears.

A slow, evil smirk spread across his face. It wasn't the dangerous kind of thrill you craved, but a chilling realization of the game he was playing.

"Oh, I get you, sweetheart" he said, his voice dripping with a mockery that made you flinch. "But when you're with him, you think about me, don't you?" Gods, he'd caught you. You couldn't deny it. Even with the guilt gnawing at you, the truth was undeniable.

Luke leaned closer, the space between you shrinking with each passing breath. He tilted his head, his curls tickling your cheek. He wanted to kiss you. You knew it, felt it in the way his lips hovered a breath away from yours.

And he stayed there, asking, as your breaths tangled together in shared exhales.

"But this is wrong, Luke" you whispered, your last attempt to hold onto the remnants of your sanity.

“No, it´s not” he breathed out, and in a swift motion, he grabbed you by the back of your neck and smashed his lips against yours. The other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him.

It already surprassed your expectations the moment you felt his lips against yours. His desire was palpable, but it didn´t manifest as an animalistic manner. He was tender, passionate, and incredibly intoxicating.

His lips moved against yours in a way that left you breathless, his tongue pressing against yours and making it´s way inside your mouth with the fiflthiest wet sounds.

It was so delicious. You couldn´t imagine you´d find actual taste in someone´s lips, but whatever it was that Luke had on his, you wanted it all the time. He was hungry for you, pressing your back against the tree more and his hands travelled down to your hips, pulling you into his own.

But then you remembered; your boyfriend could be looking for you. "Luke?" you said. As you tried to speak, to convey some restraint, Luke´s kisses grew more insistent, refusing to let you utter a word. You attempted to push him away, but you only managed to rest your hands on his chest, pulling him closer instead by gripping fists on his shirt.

"Luke" you managed to call again. "We shouldn´t" you managed to murmur in between kisses, your words a weak attempt to resist the pull of his desire. But Luke only smirked into your lips, then started to softly, slowly, trail kisses down your neck.

"Just a little more, angel" he whispered against your skin a low and deep voice.

The sensation sent a shockwave through your body, each one drawing a sigh of pleassure from your lips as you instinctivily threw your head back, offering him more. The sensation was electric, leaving you squirming with anticipation under Luke´s skillful touch.

And then, he dropped to his knees.

His lips started to trail kisses on your knees and thighs, gripping on the soft flesh with his eyes up, looking at you, devouring you.

"Luke, no. Not here" you whispered, placing both hands on his shoulders in an attempt to resist the overwhelming power of his kisses. But he simply sushed you, drawing soft circles on your knees with his thumbs.

"Shhh" he cooed softly. "It´s okay, sweetheart. I´ll make you feel good, I promise" he reassured you, resuming his kisses up your legs.

You moaned when his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive part of your inner thigh. His hands found their way underneath your skirt, his touch already making you grow in excitement. He pulled your panties to the side with a confident ease.

Your clit was almost throbbing. Swollen and desperate for attention; he felt it the moment he dipped the tip of his finger on your entrace to coat over your sensitve bud with your own arousal.

"I´ll make you see what´s worth it, baby. Who is" he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with desire as he leaned in, dangerously.

"I´ll make you feel what the little bitch of your boyfriend can´t"

Your heart raced against your ribs at a scary pace. Partly because your boyfriend, or anyone, could walk into the scene, and partly because Luke´s head was burried in between your thighs, and he showed no signals of stopping anytime soon.

He was enthusiastic about it; gripping onto your legs and squeezing at the soft flesh as his tongue circled and licked in between your folds. You knew there was more to that, more that he wasn´t gonna show you yet, he was only getting started.

You moaned out loud and tugged at his curls when he pulled your lips apart with his thumbs and pressed a wet kiss straight to your clit, pulsing and desperate for attention, just like you were.

"Such a pretty girl" he planted a quick kiss on your inner thigh. "He doesn´t make you feel this good, does he?"