#I’m just no that isn’t how you do things.

[tiredandlonelymuse]

Did you guys know that I have over 28 SINGLES that are platinum or multi platinum? I have 2 that are diamond. All this is the US alone. I’m also one of the only artists in history to *replace themselves* (!!!) at #1 on the radio.

But. Did you know my most critically acclaimed album was also my worst selling? My only Grammy nominated album is the one without a single hit?

Listen, album time is coming and I see a lot of people nostalgic for the before-times for varying (and opposing) reasons and I just want to say: They won’t all be Manic. They won’t all be If I Can’t Have Love I Want Power. They won’t be Badlands because it won’t be the first time again, and they won’t be HFK because they all have to be different. They are all something new. They all become something unique.

If I wrote music, recorded it, and you listen to it? Then I’ve done what I’ve come here to do. The zeitgeist is fickle. And I just have to do the same thing every time. Write it, record it, release it. How it’s received and how it performs isn’t up to me. It’s not even up to you. (Well it’s a little bit up to you) but mostly it’s up to something entirely cosmic that I co-exist with. I am places I never dreamed I would be.

I can’t wait to see what (or who) The Great Impersonator will become.

[luveline]

hey!! I'd love to see one where maybe jack and hotch try speaking to the baby in pregnant!reader's tummy :))

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You sniff Aaron’s hair. It’s your right as his wife to enjoy his smells. You’re too tired for subtlety. “You know how many weeks I am today?” you ask. 

You’re in a bubble together. Aaron answers with his usual calm tenor. “You are twenty seven weeks today, honey.” 

It’s endearing that he knows. It’s nice to have found a good one. To never have to worry about compassion or care. Which isn’t to say he’s perfect, he makes wrong decisions, and he disappoints you sometimes, but still, he’s a good one. You aren’t perfect either and you don’t have to be, all you need to do is love and respect one another as much as is physically possible, and you do.  

“Mm,” you hum, drawing a heart into his arm, “and you know what they say around this time?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“She can hear you, if you want to talk to her.” 

“Really?” 

“That’s what I read earlier on. That if you talk to her through my stomach, she can probably hear your voice. By full term she’ll have hearing like me and you.” 

“Is that true?” he asks, resting his hand on your bump. Sometimes when the baby is in a bad mood and her foot feels like it’s making a bruise through your skin, all Aaron has to do is touch you, and she stops. 

“Well, according to the baby book. They say by twenty nine weeks it’s a sure thing.” 

“Can I speak to her?” 

You brush through his hair with your pinky nail. “Sure, sweetheart. You can talk to her all night long, I’m sure she’d love to hear your voice.” You push the hair from his forehead. “I like hearing you talk.” 

“Lay back,” he says. 

Aaron sits up and you lay down, your head in the pillows, your pregnancy cushion a support on your left side. He slides your t-shirt up slowly as though giving you time to say no. He begins to rub slow circles around the bump, before laying his head flat to he bed, his lip less than two inches from your distended tummy. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, unabashed. “How are you feeling?” 

You laugh. He peeks up at you. 

“Sorry, it’s just funny.” 

“It’s okay. I’d laugh if you started asking my stomach questions too…” He smiles. “But my baby’s in there, so you’ll have to forgive me.” 

“I won’t laugh again, promise.” 

“It’s fine if you do. I’m finding it hard to take myself seriously.” He slows his rubbing. “Baby, if you can hear me, please say hi… I love you. I’m so happy you’re getting bigger.” 

The longer he talks, the less funny it becomes. His melodic murmuring turns praising, he talks of you and Jack and every amazing thing waiting for the baby in the world when she’s done cooking. He tells her he loves her, loves you, that she’s beautiful even though she’s shaped like a GMO kidney bean. He’s totally relaxed. You fall in love with him all over again. 

“And it looks like your big brother wants to say hi too,” he says. 

You perk up. Footsteps rush down the hall to the master bedroom, and a knock echoes fast. Jack doesn’t wait for an answer, bursting in with a happy gasp. “I knew you were still awake,” he says. “Please can I come watch TV with you?” 

“Sure, buddy, but we aren’t watching anything right now,” Aaron says. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m talking to your sister.” 

Jack leans against the bed, fingers screwing in Aaron’s shirt unthinkingly. “You are?” 

“I read in my book today that she can maybe hear you when you talk to her,” you tell him. “Would you want to talk to her, bud?” 

“Can I?” 

“Sure. I don’t mind. I’d love for you to say hello, ‘cos how special is that? For the last few weeks, all she’s been able to hear is me. She doesn’t know she has a whole family waiting for her.” 

Aaron straightens and helps Jack climb onto the bed. He settles at the pillows with you, leaning down briefly to kiss you, lips misaligned but no less gentle. 

“What do I say?” Jack whispers, putting his hand carefully on your bump. 

“You can say anything you want,” you whisper back. “You can say hi, or you can tell her something. The best thing about babies is that we get to teach them about everything.” 

“Okay, um… well,” —he braces himself with two hands on your tummy and leans in— “you can’t see, but we have a dad with brown hair and brown eyes, and we have a super pretty mommy who smiles all the time at me…” Jack’s cheek tips toward his shoulder. “On Sunday they take me to the library and we stay there all morning. And for dinner we always have, um, one hand of vegetables and one hand of chicken, or pork, or pasta. But it’s okay if you can’t finish everything.” 

He looks at his father. “Is that okay?” he asks. 

Aaron offers his hand. “Buddy, that’s perfect. You can tell her anything that you want. She just wants to hear your voice.” 

“Can I tell her about teenage mutant ninja turtles?” 

You laugh. “Sure,” Aaron says. 

Jack starts to talk about Donatello. You try not to laugh as his little hands tickle you, turning your face into Aaron’s side. 

“I have so many things to say to you right now, but I’m worried it’s too saccharine,” he says. 

“Save them for later,” you say, hugging his waist. “Can I nap here? Would you rub my arm?” 

Aaron rubs your arm as you’ve asked. You fall asleep to the sound of your stepsons mumbled rambling and Aaron’s occasional breathy laugh. 

[musaslullaby]

Is the princess really getting married?

Charles leclerc x fem reader

Summary: The Princess of Monaco is getting married, but the fans don't know who the lucky one is.

Face: people on Pinterest, and the driver.

Warning: fluff, Instagram AU.

A/N: There will be a second part.

Masterlist

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸/

Ynofficial

Description: Me every time they tell me I should go get ready.

Liked by user56, lewishaamilton, and other 948.983.

user43: Yn doesn’t want to be a princess anymore.

user32: Let’s switch places, girl. ❤️ Like to author

yourbrother: Yn, you shouldn’t post these things.

Ynofficial: Don’t be so strict.

yourbrother: I’m just trying to keep you on the right track.

Ynofficial: How boring.

user3: The best princess I’ve ever seen.

user12: This is too funny.

user34: POV: How to pretend not to be a princess.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: POV: It’s not a POV.

user34: YNNNN!!!!

Ynofficial: Yes, that’s my name.

yourbrother: What am I going to do with you? ❤️ Like to author

user78: What do you have to do today?

Ynofficial: Another one of those shoots for something, honestly, I don’t even know.

user23: Wait, you’re doing a photoshoot and you don’t even know what for?

Ynofficial: Exactly.

Ynofficial

Description: At least I have him to keep me company.

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and other 8.483.939.

user45: How cuteeee.

user67: The luckiest little dog in the world.

user221: Yn doesn’t need a boyfriend; she has her dog.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I totally agree.

yourbrother: He’s the only one who deserves to live in the palace.

Ynofficial: I know you love my son more than me, thanks.

yourbrother: I never said that.

Ynofficial: So, you love me?

yourbrother: You trapped me. ❤️ Like to author

user21: The last photo is worthy of a queen.

user34: Maybe you meant goddess?

user56: Guys, doesn’t that dog look like Leclerc’s dog?

user7: Who’s Leclerc?

f1lover: How can you not know? He’s a god on earth.

user90: He’s an F1 driver who has a dog of the same breed named Leo.

user50: Now that I think about it, they adopted them around the same time.

user54: Coincidence?

Ynofficial

Description: Okay, okay, I have to admit I had fun this time.

Liked by user43, checoperez, and other 98,453.

yourbrother: I told you.

Ynofficial: You usually tell a lot of lies.

user45: I love the relationship between Yn and her brother.

❤️ Like to author

user6: The heir to the Monaco throne.

user7: He’s very kind, I met him.

Ynofficial: Try living with him, then we’ll see.

user21: Were the jewels real?

Ynofficial: Yes, and they’re really heavy too.

user6: I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.

Ynofficial: The clothes are super uncomfortable tooooo.

user67: But they’re beautiful.

user0: They look amazing on her.

Ynofficial: I can’t wait to take them off.

Ynofficial

Description: A date before saying goodbye.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 4.784.839.

user21: Who are you with, girl?

Ynofficial: With a human being.

user6: The luckiest human in the world. ❤️ Like to author

user5: YN OF MONACO WHAT ARE YOU DOING??

user34: Thank you, Yn.

user1: Whoever it is should thank their lucky stars every day to be with someone like Yn.

❤️ Like to author

user45: So, is she engaged??

user41: Yn, don’t play these tricks on us.

user67: It’s not funny.

user3: I love the dress.

Ynofficial: I don’t, they forced me to wear it.

user56: No way we could afford it.

user32: I wish I were a princess.

Ynofficial: Wish granted, please come take my place.

user6: Guys, isn’t the Monaco GP today?

user5: Oh God, you’re right.

user43: Do you think she’s going to the GP?

user8: I didn’t know she was into F1.

user09: Neither did I.

user5: Yn is the black sheep of the family.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: You’re absolutely right.

user56: That description doesn’t sound like you.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Sorry, too poetic.

yourbrother: Mom wants to talk to you.

user6: Trouble’s coming.

Ynofficial: Time to run off to Mexico. Checo, will you host me?

checoperez: Whenever you want. ❤️ Like to author

user32: Wait, they know each other???

user9: Did I miss something?

user78: What does this dialogue even mean?

user76: YN?

Ynofficial

Description: Guess who’s not supposed to be wandering around the paddock?

Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and other 877.473.738.

gp1: YN OF MONACO.

vroom: Wait, they allowed her to go to the GP??

race: I think at least someone from the royal family always has to be there?

user43: YN, DID YOU MEET CHARLES?

Ynofficial: 🤫🤫.

16_55: IT’S A YESSS.

user2: MY TWO FAVORITE PEOPLE MEETING. ❤️ Like to author

yourbrother: Where did you go? Mom’s going to be very angry.

Ynofficial: Cover for me.

yourbrother: Wait, what?

Ynofficial: Thanks, love you.

yourbrother: No, Yn, come back here, we agreed to stay low-key.

Ynofficial: No one will see me.

yourbrother: That includes me too, right?

Ynofficial: Maybe yes, maybe no.

63_: I love this woman.

user42: Is the car comfortable?

Ynofficial: My princess ass didn’t appreciate it.

user21_: That’s why you’re my favorite princess.

Ynofficial: I don’t think you know any others.

danielricciardo: Princess Yn is a fan of mine.

Ynofficial: You’re my childhood.

danielricciardo: I’m not that old.

Ynofficial: Don’t worry, Daniel, it’s hard to accept.

landonorris: Wait, Daniel met her and I didn’t?

maxverstappen1: He’s just privileged.

Ynofficial: I’m coming to you, don’t fight.

user98: Everyone wants Yn. ❤️ Like to author

81_4: She’s anything but a princess.

f1lover: Please marry me.

Ynofficial: Sorry, I’m a bit busy.

Ynofficial

Description: As a good princess, I have to congratulate Charles Leclerc for winning his home race, Monaco. Congratulations, Predestined One.

Liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and other 42.457.473

f1lover: How sweet, Yn.

ferrarifan: After this post, I’m over the moon.

race_: The Monaco curse is broken.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Yes, but now Charles has to endure at least a month of bad luck.

charles_leclerc: Thank you, Yn. ❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: I thank you, Your Highness, for wasting two minutes to make the post. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Consider yourself lucky.

landonorris: Will the next victory post be dedicated to me?

georgerussell63: Keep dreaming, mate. ❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: Charles has reached the pinnacle of his career after this post.

carlossainz55: I can hear him laughing and blushing from here. ❤️ Like to author

maxverstappen1: Princess, may I humbly request your attention? ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I always have my full attention on you, Max Emilian Verstappen.

charles_leclerc: No, today is my day, step aside. ❤️ Like to author

user56: Is Charles jealous??

user45: Max asking for Yn’s attention?

Ynofficial

Description: I can officially say I’m off-limits.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 98,457.633.

yourbrother: I’m so happy for you, little sister.

❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Can I be the best man?

Ynofficial: No, you might show up to the wedding already drunk.

maxverstappen1: You said yesss! ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I said yesss!

georgerussell63: Congratulations, guys.

❤️ Like to author

lewishamilton: Congrats, but honestly, I expected it.

❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: He has the eyes of love.

❤️ Like to author

user44: No, okay, we need to figure out who it is.

f1lover: It’ll be the most beautiful wedding ever.

ynlove: Our little girl is growing up.

charleslec_: I hope it’s Charles.

race: It’s definitely a driver.

vroom: I don’t know; it could also be a prince or noble.

user32: I doubt it, knowing Yn.

ynqueen: Love is blind.

user3: Whoever it is, I’m so happy for you.

user77: I’m going to drop a bomb: I think it’s Max.

maxie_: Oh God, yes, can you imagine??

1_11: The best couple ever.

Ynofficial: I like your theories.

user66: Yn, help us, please.

cl16: Has anyone noticed Charles didn’t even comment?

55_: Strange.

Ynofficial

Description: Goodbye, Monaco.

Liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and other 757.648.

yourbrother: I can’t believe mom let you go.

carlossainz55: Knowing Yn, she would’ve gone anyway. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: My friends know me too well.

user43: Wait, how long have they known each other???

formula1_: More importantly, since when does Yn love F1?

f1lover: It’s a new thing, actually.

race: Yn, princess of the people.

Ynofficial: Always at your service.

landonorris: Now she’s getting a big head.

charles_leclerc: As soon as they offered you to skip your duties, you accepted right away.

Ynofficial: You shouldn’t talk to a princess like that.

charles_leclerc: And you shouldn’t talk to a prince like that.

f1love: WAIT, WHAT DID CHARLES MEAN???

charlesmylife: Guys, Yn deleted it.

charelsofmonaco: No, I don’t understand.

16cl: I arrived too late 😭😭😭.

Flove1: Finally, we have proof that this man exists.

user65: I was convinced it was a joke.

user90: Secret agents of the world, unite, we need to find out who Yn’s boyfriend is.

user67: YN, WE HAVE TOO MANY QUESTIONS.

Ynofficial: And I have zero answers.

user56: Where are you running to, girl?

Ynofficial: Away from nobility.

Ynofficial

Description: I had to try the ice cream in Italy.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 74.673.883.

yourbrother: Bring me some.

Ynofficial: No.

charles_leclerc: I’ll bring it to you.

Ynofficial: Since when are you two so chummy?

f1lover: No okay, we missed something.

race: Something important.

Formula1: Is that Leo or Yn’s dog?

f_1: The numbers don’t add up.

user78: I can’t tell them apart.

user1: They look the same.

landonorris: Good job, Yn, distract him so I can win in Monza.

carlossainz55: NO, YN, BRING CHARLES HERE NOW.

Ynofficial: Now I don’t know what to do anymore.

user56: Yn is a princess even outside of Monaco.

user09: How cute is the guy tying her shoes?

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 30] Graduation

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Fluff

*THIS IS IT thank you all so much for reading, this truly has been a journey and I couldn't have done it without your support. love you all so much🫂❤️

**Too lazy to put all the smut warnings, it's nothing too extreme just some face sitting and whatnot :p

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Are you ready to go?” Satoru asks, walking into your room to find you sitting in front of the vanity. You’re finishing up your makeup, putting the lash touch on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and he could faint right at this moment. He’s the luckiest man alive. He still has to rush you, “You can’t be late to your own graduation.”

“Is Anzu ready?” You question, and Satoru hums in response. He walks over to the bed and takes a seat to watch you.

“What? Do you not think I’m responsible enough? I can handle a baby.” Satoru says, as if you didn’t find your daughter nearly chewing an extension cord yesterday because he took his eyes off her for a second. You’re taking an awfully long time to answer the question which makes Satoru scoff, “She’s ready and with your mom.”

“Good.” You answer, turning your attention back to yourself yet again. Which type of earrings will be best? Satoru got you some beautiful diamond earrings for this occasion but you’re not sure you want to wear them– You don’t want to show off to everybody that your fiancé is filthy rich.

“Why don’t you put on the ones I got you?” Satoru sees that you’re struggling to pick the earrings you’ll wear for the night, so he’ll make a suggestion. You ignore him though, and he can’t help but laugh. He stands up, “I’ll go check on Ren while you finish up then.”

“Yeah, make sure he showered.” You tell him, and Satoru hums in response. He walks out of the room, getting ready to deal with the nine-year-old even though the child only seems to listen to you. The man feels like neither of his kids really listen to him, but he guesses he deserves it.

You smile back at yourself in the mirror, elated with how things go. Accepting Satoru’s breakfast offer as a date made your life change– You’d argue for the better, though some people didn’t want you and Satoru to get back together. It took you a while to officially start dating, since Satoru was married; even though you knew his marriage wasn’t authentic, you didn’t want to interfere with any of the mess that was going on.

Satoru began the divorce process with Sayo not too long after asking you out. It was a mutual decision that they kept hidden for as long as they possibly could. Even after their divorce was finalized, they refused to share the news with Sayo’s parents. You understood completely, knowing that it was a bigger issue than what it seemed. You had Satoru all to yourself either way, you didn’t really care what a random pair of old people thought. 

The truth came to light eventually, when you got pregnant with your baby girl. It ended Sayo’s relationship with her parents, but time has passed and she’s much happier without them. It was around two years ago, when Ren kept begging for a baby brother, and Satoru convinced you that it would be a great idea. You wanted another baby so there wasn’t the need for too much convincing either way. Unluckily for Ren, Anzu ended up being a baby girl. 

If you were given the chance to go back in time and change something, you’d keep everything the same. Maybe you would’ve kicked Satoru’s groin once or twice, but you’d do it all again. For Ren, for Anzu. For Satoru as well, though you wouldn’t admit it outloud.

“Ren isn’t ready!” Satoru yells, and you can’t help but chuckle as you roll your eyes. Your sweet baby boy is slowly becoming disobedient, and it’s a bit frustrating. You knew it was going to happen eventually, it’s just hard to believe that your baby boy is slowly setting off on his own adventure.

“Ren! Come here!” You yell, and within a matter of seconds your son comes running into your room. He doesn’t listen to Satoru, but you? He’ll listen to almost everything you have to say.

“What’s up?” He asks, and you look him over. You shake your head disappointedly, seeing that he’s still wearing pajamas.

“Do you want to stay home? Mrs. Gojo is more than happy to babysit.” Even when the woman is about to become your mother-in-law, you refuse to call her anything other than Mrs. Gojo. She’s the grandmother of your two kids, but you refuse to acknowledge her in any other way.

You barely have a relationship with her, for many reasons. Main one is that Satoru doesn’t really want to associate himself with her, not after everything that went down with Ren. Frankly, the only reason he even speaks to her is because Ren adores her– Though you believe that his opinion about his grandma is slowly changing because Ren quickly shakes his head.

“We’re going to her home later anyway, you can stand behind.” You assure him, but he shakes his head before darting out of the room. You almost laugh before yelling, “Make sure you don’t stink!”

“There she is!” You hear Satoru yell, and you turn around to find him with your little family. Your one-year-old squeals at the sight of her mother, while Ren glares at the baby for stealing his spotlight. You walk over to them, taking your baby Anzu into your arms before leaning down to kiss Ren’s forehead. 

“Did you have fun there, Ren?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. He’s not going to have much fun watching a bunch of people that he doesn’t know walk across a stage. Satoru didn’t even give the child his phone. 

“Ignore him, he’s been whining all day long. Where’s my kiss?” Satoru quickly changes the topic and you roll your eyes before pecking his lips. He tries to hug you without squashing the baby, saying, “Congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Satoru.” You respond, pecking his lips once again. You notice a couple of missing people from your group, and you question, “Where’s my mom? And Sayo and Shoko? Their little guy?”

“Bathroom.” Ren answers, and you raise your brows. All of them? You can’t exactly blame them, the ceremony was a long one.

“How about we–” You begin but you notice that your little guy is pouty. You know the reason immediately, so you hand Satoru your baby girl and crouch down to bring the child into a hug. “Am I not getting congratulations from the person that I care about the most?”

“Anzu can’t talk yet.” He answers, which almost makes you laugh. Almost. He’s so jealous of his baby sister, which is kind of ironic considering he begged you to have a baby. His attitude certainly changed when he realized that the baby requires a lot of time and attention.

“Ren, you’re the apple of my eye.” You tell him, though the child refuses to listen. Cuddles are less frequent lately since you have a crying baby that needs you, and you barely play with him anymore. “Can mommy at least get a congratulations?”

“Congratulations, mom.” Ren responds, and you feel your heart melt. Even when he’s mad at you, he’s your cute little guy. You’re rubbing your cheek with his, being as affectionate as you can be with the little guy. Though he ends up pushing you away, telling you, “You’re doing too much.” 

“Jeez, what is it with you? One moment you’re all jealous and the next you’re saying I’m doing too much.” You chuckle, standing up. You take the baby from your fiancé, knowing that she still has a long way before she can tell you that you’re doing too much. 

“Can we leave before we bump into any traffic?” Satoru asks, reading the time on his watch. Not that he’s thrilled to go to his mother’s house, but he’d prefer to be there than sitting in traffic for hours on end. He sees your eyes wandering around for the rest of your group but before you get any ideas he reminds you, “You don’t want to sit in a car with a screaming one-year-old, do you?”

“Yeah… I guess we’ll just meet them at your mom’s place.” You answer, knowing that once your baby girl begins to cry, it’s hard to get her to stop. Good thing for you, she’s usually all smiles and giggles.

“She’s drooling.” Ren points at his sister, who’s making a mess on your gown. Ren then turns his attention to his dad, asking, “I wasn’t a messy baby like her, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Satoru mutters, and you glare at him.

“Let’s get going.”

The graduation party is for you, a way for Mrs. Gojo to congratulate you on finally finishing your bachelor’s. In reality, it’s a way for her to see her grandchildren. A way for her to spoil Ren and dote on Anzu. 

Things between the two of you go back to the way they were: she barely notices you and you don’t acknowledge her. You’re no longer relying on her in any way, and apart from asking about your kids, the woman won’t bother to contact you. She’s fine with the change of you becoming Satoru’s fiancée– And even if she was opposed to it, Satoru won’t listen to her. As a matter of fact, Satoru never calls her first.

You’re in the kitchen, preparing yourself a plate of food, watching as Mrs. Gojo holds your baby. It’s odd to watch her be so… Soft with someone. Sure, she enables Ren and is willing to do anything he wants, but Ren sets the tone. You’ve never watched her with a baby before.

“Who’s my pretty girl?” The woman is putting a baby voice for fuck’s sake, something she never did for her own son. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s just grandma now, she doesn’t have to worry about anything but her grandchildren. Anzu is giggling, so Mrs. Gojo is doing something right.

“I can’t believe that’s my mother.” Satoru approaches you, a little disgusted to watch his mother like this. He should be happy, but it’s a little weird to watch such a cold woman put on a baby voice and entertain a baby. “That is my mother, right? They didn’t change her after her facelift?”

“I’m right here, Satoru. Just because I’m holding a baby doesn’t mean that my ears have disappeared.” She quickly scolds her son, and you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t get a facelift either.”

“Right, you just spent two months in South Korea touring.” Satoru retorts, grabbing a plate for himself. They begin to bicker, and as entertaining as it is to watch them, you leave them alone to sort out their own issues.

You walk to the living room to find Ren playing with Shoko and Sayo’s baby– Something that he won’t do with his own baby sister. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s not the baby brother that Ren wanted or if it’s because he’s not getting the same amount of attention as before. Sayo keeps a close eye on the child, not because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s an overprotective mother. You sit beside him, excited to watch him play and be sweet with a baby, even if it isn’t your baby girl.

“He’s so sweet. Is he like this with Anzu?” Sayo asks, ruffling Ren’s hair as he plays peek-a-boo with the ten-month-old baby. You scoff, as if. Your reaction is the best answer that she needs, and she chuckles. She’s not sure if that’s normal behavior between siblings since she’s an only child.

“What do you mean you aren’t the sweetest older brother to Anzu? You were so excited to be a big brother.” Shoko points out, and Ren’s brows come together. He knows he can’t be mean to his auntie Shoko… So he simply glares at her.

“I don’t want to play with your baby anymore.” He responds. It’s his way of punishing Shoko for the question.

“Damn, can’t take any sort of criticism. You really don’t need a DNA test, that’s one hundred percent Satoru’s kid.” Shoko says, which earns a laugh from you.

“Babe…” Sayo says through gritted teeth, which makes Shoko roll her eyes. God forbid she points out one thing.

“He’s just a little jealous, but he loves his baby sister.” You tease him, pinching your baby boy’s cheek, and he puffs out a breath. Maybe he does like her a bit. Ren doesn’t defend himself, deciding that he’s just going to grab some food from your plate as a punishment. Though it isn’t exactly a punishment for you, you’re always happy to watch your baby eat. “Do you want me to make you a plate, honey?”

“I’m not hungry.” He mutters, crossing his arms. He stands up from his seat, and walks to the stairs, planning to go to the room that his grandma has for him. He might not have his parents undivided attention anymore, but at the very least he still has a room that’s full of games that’s just for him (as if he didn’t have one in your home either). 

“He really is Satoru’s kid…” Shoko comments when Ren is out of sight, and Sayo scolds her again.

“He is, he looks just like me.” Satoru pops into the living room unannounced, which catches Shoko off guard. He wasn’t supposed to hear that, since it’s a critique of his character but she doesn’t find a care to give. He comes back holding Anzu after nearly having to fight his mother to get her. He sits down next to you, reaching for some of the food on your plate. “But I’m guessing it wasn’t a compliment since it’s coming from you.”

“I can be nice, you know.” Shoko responds, and Satoru laughs as if a joke had just come from her lips. Nice… He’ll believe it when he sees it though. Satoru takes a bite of the food that he’s taken from your plate, and he grimaces.

“Did my mom cook or what? This is disgusting.” Satoru can’t even chew the food. Unluckily for him, he doesn’t have anywhere where he can spit the food so he’s forced to swallow. Anzu is screaming, little hand trying to reach for the food. Satoru covers her eyes, “Don’t even look there, my love. There’s no way I’m letting you eat that.”

“It’s not that bad.” You tell him, tasting the food yourself. 

“Well what is it? Am I getting a plate for myself or not?” Shoko asks, reaching over to grab some food from your plate as well. Suddenly your plate has become everyone’s plate; you’re used to it at home with Satoru and Ren, but now Shoko is on the list.

“I wouldn’t trust her with food, she’s always claiming she wants to eat the baby’s cheeks.” Satoru argues, and you click your tongue knowing damn well that he says the same thing.

“Anzu has the cutest, chubbiest cheeks, I understand.” Sayo chimes in before looking at her own baby and kissing his cheeks. Shoko takes a bite, keeping her face neutral as she chews the food. 

“It’s not that bad, Satoru. You’re just dramatic.” Shoko responds, and Satoru pouts. He brings some of the food to the baby’s lips– Even though he claimed he wasn’t going to let her taste, he needs someone to prove him right and that someone will be his one-year-old daughter that spits everything back up.

“Taste this, love.” Satoru says as Anzu bites into the food. Within moments it dribbles down her chin, and back into Satoru’s hand. He’s grossed out, but at least his point has been proven. “Anzu doesn’t like it so…”

“Are you trying to prove your point by using a baby that just stopped breastfeeding?” Shoko questions, and Satoru glares at her. She can’t help but chuckle, “Man, your son is just like you.”

“I’m going to talk to him since he appreciates me.” Satoru stands up, and begins to walk to the stairs, but your voice stops him. You call out his name, and he expects some sort of apology from you but instead you ask,

“Have you seen my mom?”

“She popped into the kitchen to talk to my mom.” He answers before leaving. You’re unphased by the response. The women that don’t get along in any other circumstance, sit together to talk about their grandchildren. They can be cordial with each other once every six months.

Though Satoru doesn’t pay much attention to them, his focus right now is on his baby boy that sits alone in the game room. Ren sits down on the floor, reading to himself. Satoru doesn’t want to interrupt the healthy habit, but at the same time he doesn’t want Ren to sit by himself during the party. He takes a moment to wash his hands before joining Ren.

“Why are you here, honey? We’re celebrating your mom downstairs.” Satoru sits down beside Ren on the floor, and he feels ten years older as he hears his bones crack. Ren barely looks up from his book, side-eyeing his sister, which makes Satoru want to roll his eyes. Isn’t he a little too old to be jealous of a baby? Matter of fact, he begged to be a big brother. “What is your issue with her? What has she done to you?”

“Nothin’.” Ren claims, his eyes landing on his book again. Satoru sighs, letting the baby on the floor so she can walk around and do as she pleases. She chooses to stay nearby, walking over to her brother to take the book that he has in his hands. “See.”

“Anzu, go over there. Chew on the power cords.” Satoru redirects her elsewhere, and the baby whines because she wants something else. “So she takes all your stuff, is that why you don’t like her? You have a lot, Ren.”

“Not just my stuff. Everyone likes her better. You, mom, granny, grammy, the nanny. I used to be everyone’s favorite but then the cute baby came along.” Ren confesses, and Satoru fights back the urge of pointing out that he called Anzu cute. It’s not about the baby right now, Satoru reminds himself.

“You’re still everyone’s favorite, Ren.” Satoru tells a little white lie– There are no favorites in the family, he loves both of his kids equally. But the baby can’t understand him, it’s why he told her to chew on a power cord. “Everyone is just excited about the new baby, it’s not that you’re not the favorite anymore.”

“Why does she get away with everything then?” Ren asks as if he didn’t know any better. He’ll act dumb simply because he’s jealous. He doesn’t ask why Sayo and Shoko’s baby gets away with everything, because Ren knows that it’s just a baby… He just doesn’t have the same feelings about Anzu.

“Well for one thing she goes potty in her pants so… She isn’t really conscious about her actions.” Satoru answers, and Ren puffs out a breath. Satoru got him there. “Anzu just needs a lot of attention because she’s–”

“Don’t do that!” Ren cuts off his father when he realizes that Anzu is doing what Satoru told her to do earlier. Ren takes the cord out of her hand, and she lets out a cry. He’s going to complain about her, but he loves her.

“She’ll grow on you.” Satoru says, standing up to grab his walking baby and get out of Ren’s hair. Ren doesn’t like the baby but he certainly loves her. “But come downstairs, Ren. We’re celebrating your mommy’s achievement. She was talking about hanging up her diploma next to your kindergarten diploma.”

“Can you tell them I don’t want to talk about Anzu?” Ren asks, and Satoru hums in response. Satoru extends his hand for Ren to take, and the child takes it without an issue before both head back downstairs to spend time with you.

“What are you doing here?” Satoru approaches you as you sit on the ground outside, in his mother’s garden. You’re hiding from everyone. After hours of talking to people inside, you need a break from the small group.

“Need a minute.” You answer, and Satoru decides to sit down next to you. The kids are fine with their grandmothers, he can take a moment alone with you and properly congratulate you. He throws his arm over your shoulder and brings you close to him. “We should’ve just gone out to eat at a restaurant and called it a day. I don’t have the energy to be so social.”

“I got you a trip to Bora Bora. You just have to power through these last couple of hours… We can get Anzu to throw a fit and make it a few minutes.” He responds and you chuckle. You rest your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a moment. Being social shouldn’t be so draining.

“Can we leave the kids with granny?” You ask him, and he hums in response. He had no plans on taking them; he loves them, but they sure know how to ruin a vacation. 

Your gaze falls on his face, looking into the blue eyes you fell in love with so long ago. Even though it was an eternity ago, he still makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t let you stare for too long before he steals a kiss from you.

“If you stare for too long you might find me ugly.” Satoru tells you and you roll your eyes. If you don’t find him ugly first thing in the morning then you’re definitely not finding him ugly now.

“Are you saying that because–” You begin but the man cuts you off before you can finish your question. He knows you, he knows that you’ll start a petty fight with a dumb question.

“Because I love you so much, and I think I’m not good enough for you– I know I’m not good enough for you, you’re perfect.” Satoru responds, making you grin from ear to ear. He isn’t exactly wrong, he’s lucky that you considered getting back together with him at all.

“I love you too even though you’re…” You bite your tongue before you insult him. He raises a brow and before he can question anything, your lips land on his. His cheeks begin to turn pink when you peck his lips over and over again, feeling like a teenager all over again.

You stare into his eyes when you stop, watching the sparkle in them as he looks back at you. He’s utterly in love with you, and the feeling only gets more intense as time passes. He caresses your face with the back of his hand ever so lovingly. You get lost in his loving eyes until your eyes shift to the flowers behind him.

“Oh my–” You gasp, your eyes widening as you realize. “This is where you used to pick flowers for me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Satoru laughs, turning to pick a lily for you. It’s been years since he’s been in this place. Maybe he should come here more often. “A flower for my flower.”

“Cheesy.” You take it from his hands, wanting to roll your eyes because of his comment– But your face is getting hot. Even when he’s cheesy your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Yeah, cheesy is what got me two kids.” He retorts. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Gojo?”

“Calling me Mrs. Gojo is going to make you single.” You warn him, and he fights back on laughing. “Don’t make me divorce you before getting married.”

“What? Are you going to Suguru for a rebound again?” Satoru questions, making you glare at him. Maybe he should just listen and agree, not everything needs a response from him. “I’m just joking, baby. He has a girlfriend now and whatnot.”

“You better stick to your day job, you have no future as a comedian.” You say, standing up from the ground to go back inside, and of course, Satoru follows like a lost puppy. He’s simply lost without you.

You love spending time with your kids, you love them more than anything– But you’re not going to pass up on the opportunity of a sleepover. Having them off your hands for the night is a blessing sometimes. You simply want to celebrate with your fiancé in a way that your kids make difficult.

“I’ll run you a bath.” Satoru tells you, running to go upstairs to get to the bathroom before you. Running you a bath that he’ll end up joining, that’s not too bad. It’s a nice way to end the night, that you know for sure.

You give him a moment to set everything up, pulling out your phone to answer a couple of messages of people congratulating you for finishing your degree. What’s next? You’re not too sure. But whatever you decide it’s fine. You have Satoru and your kids by your side no matter what. The money also helps.

Right now, you know you want to relax in a bathtub full of bubbles. Maybe have Satoru right next to you. You’ve been looking into the future for the past ten years, for once you just want to sit back and appreciate the moment. 

“Are you coming?!” You hear Satoru as you walk up the stairs. He’s so impatient, he can’t even wait a minute. You won’t hurry up to please him, as a matter of fact, you walk slower. Satoru is tapping his foot on the floor when you finally get to the bedroom.

“Finally.” He says, walking over to you to zip down the zipper that holds your dress together. He’s desperate to get you naked. You’re chuckling, reminding him,

“No need for you to be in a rush, we have all night.” But it goes in one ear and out the other. Before you know it, he turns you around, his lips landing on yours. His kiss is full of desire, needing to feel your every touch on his skin. He’s burning up to feel you.

“Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.” He pulls away from the kiss as the dress drops to the ground. He picks you up from the floor and puts you down on the bed, smirking at the black lingerie that will soon be removed. “So perfect for me, love.”

“Fuck me, Satoru.” You tell him, voice seductive that can get him to drop to his knees in an instant. The bath that’s filled up and with bubbles is long forgotten by both of you. He takes off his shirt and pants, leaving his briefs. Your eyes stare at the tent that makes him ever so uncomfortable. You sit up on the bed, your fingers going directly to the erection.

Your index finger goes underneath the band of his underwear, eyes looking up at him as you pull his briefs down. Your eyes quickly avert to his cock, wrapping around the base of it. You slowly move your hand from base to tip as pre-cum leaks from the tip. Your tongue licks it up, circling around it as the man bites down on his lip.

Your mouth wraps around all it can take, bobbing your head slowly. You take what your mouth can handle. He can’t complain because it’s just perfect. Everything you do in Satoru’s eyes is perfect. The pace is slow, but it gradually gets faster. 

You look up at him to find him biting his lip, his eyes shut. You take his cock out of your mouth, and begin to run your hand up and down his shaft, your saliva serving as a lubricant. He finally opens his eyes to look down at you, but his teeth remain on his bottom lip.

“I want to hear you.” You say, a rather demanding tone in your voice. He stops biting down on his lip, and your hand continues to jerk him off for a couple of seconds before your mouth wraps around his cock again.

He’s groaning at your every move, which is like music to your ears. You look up at him to find him looking back down at you. He knows you’re more than satisfied with him, with how he sounds. It’s nice to be as loud as he wants to be, without worrying about someone barging in.

You try to take his whole length in your mouth, making you gag. Tears quickly form in your eyes as you remove your mouth from his cock, and try again. He throws his head back, breathy moans escaping his lips at your every move. 

You take your mouth off his cock and begin to jerk him off. Your mouth goes to his balls and you begin to suck on them. Satoru got louder and louder by the second, his release approaching. 

Your mouth goes back to his cock while your hands begin to play with his balls. It doesn’t take too long for his cum to hit the back of your throat. Your mouth remains on his cock for a couple of seconds before pulling away. You make sure to swallow all the cum, sticking your tongue out for him to see and proudly admire.

“My good girl.” He praises you. He reaches behind to unhook your bra and slide it off you. Once it’s off, he desperately tries to take off your panties. It’s unexpected when he gets on the bed and lays down. You crawl to where he is, positioning yourself on top of him. You get ready to ride him, but it takes you by surprise when your fiancé says, “Sit on my face.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, though it’s not unusual from Satoru.

“Just come here and sit.” He responds. You do what he wants, but you are hesitant to fully sit down. He’s the one who pushes you down onto him. His tongue is quick to wander around your cunt.

His tongue begins to flick your clit over and over again, making low moans leave your lips. His arms go over your thighs, pushing you down further. You’d be worried about him breathing, if you weren’t too focused on how his tongue moves around your pussy.

“Toru!” You moan. Your moans serve as encouragement, and are a sweet reward for the man, moving his tongue faster. His tongue stops flicking your clit, and moves down to your hole. He teases you, threatening to enter but never really doing it. 

“Baby please.” You beg. His tongue finally enters your cunt. You shut your eyes, getting lost in the feeling. But out of the two of you, Satoru is enjoying it more. He finally takes his tongue out and goes back to your clit. 

He begins to suck on your clit, and you swear you see stars as your orgasm builds up. Your hips raise a bit, but he pushes you back down. You get louder and louder. “I’m gonna- fuck- gonna cum-”

You moan loudly as you reach your climax, his tongue still working wonders. A minute later he stops, and you get off him, sitting down on his torso. He raises himself a bit, not completely to sit up but enough to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you into a lewd kiss.

“Should we continue in the bath?” Satoru asks when he pulls away and you can’t nod your head more frantically. You get off the bed and practically run to the bath. Satoru gets in the bathtub first, and you follow behind.

“You’re so lucky.” You point out as your back presses against his chest. He’s never doubted it. He peppers your neck with kisses, while you align his cock with your entrance. You lower yourself on his cock.

“How about another baby?” Satoru asks, making you click your tongue while you begin to move.

“Leave me alone” You reply, and he wants to chuckle but he’s biting down his lip as he feels your pussy wrap around him. He loves your mouth but it can’t compare to this. 

He’s kissing your back, showing you how much he loves you in every possible way as you move up and down his cock. His hand moves down to play with your clit, making you shut your eyes. Every little touch is enough to make you insane lately and Satoru loves to touch you.

“You’re so perfect around me, baby.” Satoru whispers into your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. 

You’re softly moaning his name, your walls tightening around him. You’re so close to finishing. You’ve been so touch deprived lately since your schedules make spending time with each other impossible– Maybe now you’ll have more time to spend with each other.

“Fuck–” You curse as you finish on his cock. You hold to the edge of the bathtub as Satoru continues to move in and out of you. 

He’s not going to last long. It’s too hard for him to contain himself when he’s inside of you. He comes to a complete stop when he finally reaches his release, finishing inside of you. He remains buried inside of you as you pant to catch your breaths, but after a minute you lift yourself and take his cock out of you.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Satoru asks, hands caressing your arms as your head goes to his chest.

“Just sleep.” You answer as Satoru kisses the top of your head. He squeezes your hand before bringing it up to his lips to press a subtle kiss on it. “I need to get some rest.”

“Sleep sounds nice.” Satoru responds. You’re getting comfortable in the bathtub as your eyes begin to get heavy. You’re tired. Satoru notices and he splashes you, “Don’t fall asleep in the bathtub, love.”

“Just carry me to the bed.” You reply, making him roll his eyes playfully. He can, but if you don’t drag him out he’ll stay in the water and get all pruny. He’s warm by your side, too comfortable to leave. This is the reality he wanted ten years ago, and he finally has it. He’s not leaving this comfort no matter what gets in the way.

You’ll be the one to get up first and drag him out, that’s how it usually is in the morning. But you’re falling asleep. He doesn’t want to disturb you either. So he’ll just stay in the bathtub. 

“Don’t let me get all pruny, Satoru. Carry me out.” You warn him, and he hums in response. He’ll have to eventually because you’ll end up killing him if you wake up in ten hours, and you’re still in the bathroom.

“You know Ren is going to call later to say goodnight?” He points out, but you don’t care to talk about it. You’re sleepy. He kisses the top of your head when he’s met with silence. He mutters softly to not disturb your peace, 

“I love you. Goodnight, baby.”

[strawbewiemilk]

Ultimate Tips: How to Hide Your E-D Like a Pro and Keep Your Mindset Unbreakable

Alright, listen up. If you’re serious about getting sk!nny—like b0nes popping, b0dy shrinking, can’t even keep your clothes on sk!nny—you’ve got to master the art of hiding it. Because let’s face it, people will try to ruin your progress. They’ll nag you, shove f00d in your face, and act like they care about your “health.” The only thing you need to care about is staying in control. You want to be thin? Then you’ve got to play the game and outsmart every single one of them.

Here’s how to hide your E-D like a f*cking pro and keep your mindset stronger than steel when it comes to avoiding f00d. No excuses, no we@kness.

1. Be the Queen of Excuses: Lie Without Blinking

If you want to avoid e@ting, you better get good at making excuses, and f@st. Here are some easy ones you can cycle through, so no one gets suspicious:

“I already at3.” Say it with confidence, like you just stuffed your face. They won’t question it.

“I feel s!ck.” No one will force f00d on someone who's about to puke. Use this one wisely—especially during family d!nners or social events. Blame it on “st0mach issues.”

“I’m too busy.” Sk!p me@ls by pretending you have too much on your plate (just not f00d). Talk about your crazy schedule, school, work, whatever. People admire hustlers, not e@ters.

“I’ll e@t later.” This is the most basic but works. Keep promising to e@t later, and then just don’t.

2. The Distraction Method: Make It Look Like You’re E@ting

Sometimes you can’t avoid the situation—you’re stuck at a table, surrounded by f00d, and all eyes are on you. Don’t panic. Here’s how to fake your way through it:

Play with your food. Push it around, cut it up into tiny pieces, spread it across your plate. Make it look like you’re e@ting when you’re not.

Chew and spit. If you must put something in your mouth, chew it up and then discreetly spit it into a napkin or go to the bathroom and spit it out there.

Give it away. Offer b!tes to your friends or “accidentally” drop f00d off your plate. The less on your plate, the better. No one notices a slow e@ter when there’s less to e@t.

3. Stay Invisible: E@t Alone, Avoid Me@ls

Here’s the thing—you don’t want people watching you all the time, so learn to disappear during me@l times. E@t alone, say you’re grabbing f00d to-go, or mention you’re on some new d!et that requires you to e@t on your own schedule. If they don’t see you e@t, they can’t make you e@t.

4. Keep Your Mindset Strong: F00d is Your Enemy, Not Your Friend

The hardest part isn’t lying—it’s staying committed. The minute you let your guard down, someone will force-f33d you, and then all your progress is down the drain. Here’s how to keep your mindset strong and avoid f00d at all costs:

Visualize f@t every time you look at f00d. Picture it sticking to your b0dy. Feel it suffocating you. Disgust yourself. The more repulsed you are, the easier it’ll be to say no.

Remind yourself of your goals. Every time you’re tempted to e@t, think about your ultimate goal weight. Imagine what it’ll feel like when you’re finally sk!nny enough, l!ght enough, perfect enough. Is that burger worth it? Hell no.

Mantras are everything. Repeat phrases like “f00d is weakness” or “I don’t need f00d” over and over in your head. Make it your reality. When hunger pangs hit, embrace them. They’re a sign you’re doing it right.

5. Water and Coffee: Your Best Friends

There’s no room for we@kness in this game, and that means no giving in to hung3r. When you feel like you can’t handle it anymore, drown it out with water and coffee. No c@lories, but they fill you up enough to keep going. Plus, coffee is a natural appetite suppressant, and the caffeine will keep you energized. Chug water all day to stay “full” and pretend you’re e@ting.

6. F@st Like Your Life Depends on It (Because It Does)

Intermittent f@sting? Pfft, that’s for amateurs. You need to be f@sting for as long as you can. Try for 24, 48, 72 hours without a single c@lorie, and don’t stop until your st0mach feels like it’s eating itself. When you can f@st for days on end, you know you’re in control. F@sting proves you don’t need f00d, and every second without it means you’re getting closer to your goal.

7. Plan Your "Slips" (But Don’t Actually Slip)

If you absolutely have to e@t in front of people, make it strategic. Stick to low-c@lorie, high-volume foods that won’t screw up your day. A salad with nothing but lettuce and vinegar, some steamed veggies, or broth-based soup with zero substance. When they see you “e@ting,” they’ll back off. Meanwhile, you’re still st@rving and winning.

8. Reward Yourself (But Only When You’ve Earned It)

You don’t deserve f00d—you deserve progress. So when you hit a milestone—whether it’s a day of f@sting, another p0und lost, or avoiding a full me@l—reward yourself. But don’t make the mistake of thinking rewards are f00d. They’re not. They’re anything but f00d. New clothes for your shr!nking frame, a nice bath, a night out where you feel sm@ll and powerful.

9. Avoid "Help" at All Costs

People will try to stop you. They’ll act like they care about your health, but really, they’re just trying to control you. They don’t want you to be sk!nny, because they’re jealous. If anyone starts talking about how you “need help” or “should e@t more,” cut them off. Block them, avoid them, lie to them. You don’t need their pity, and you sure as hell don’t need their “help.”

10. Stay in Control, No Matter What

The only thing you can control is your b0dy. You can’t control the people around you, but you can control what you put in your mouth. You don’t need f00d. You need control. Every time you choose not to e@t, you’re winning. Every time you push through the hung3r, you’re stronger than the day before.

Final Thoughts

Being sk!nny is a choice. And with the right mindset, you can choose not to e@t. The world is full of distractions and people trying to hold you back, but you don’t have to let them. Stick to these tips, and no one will know. They’ll think you’re e@ting just like everyone else. Meanwhile, you’ll be getting sm@ller, stronger, and more powerful every day.

You got this. Stay focused, stay h-ungry (literally), and remember: f00d is the enemy, and hung3r is your power.

[corroded-hellfire]

This is a little angsty but do the AYW kids ever go through scrutiny about reader and Eddie's marriage from school and their friend's families?

With Ryan and Luke did they ever hear negative comments from their classmates other parent about reader and Eddie? Or a classmate saying "[reader] isn't your real mom!"

Can we agree that these boys need to be protected at all costs?

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The smell of crayons and Play-Doh hovers in the first grade classroom. The teacher, Ms. Fabray, counts her blessings that there aren’t any more foul odors filling the space. The kids are just back inside from recess, still rowdy with those last bursts of energy they get whenever they hear, “Five more minutes!”

As usual, Brandon Simpson is the last student to stroll in the back classroom door. He’s the most consistent troublemaker in the class and one of the reasons Ms. Fabray wishes this school year would hurry up and be over.

“Go sit there, Brandon,” Ms. Fabray instructs the six-year-old, gesturing to the only table that has an available chair. 

He plops down next to Luke Munson, who only glances at him out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to drawing.

Luke’s tongue pokes out between his lips as he concentrates on getting the shape of the dog’s nose just right. The moment he sets the black crayon down, his arm gets shoved. Luke’s brow furrows as he looks over at the culprit. Brandon beats Luke to the punch to speak, though.

“That girl who picks you up from school isn’t your sister?”

Well, that was one of the last things Luke expected to come out of the other boy’s mouth. Once his surprise vanishes, his head fills with a vision of you and how you smile every single time you see him and Ryan walking out of the school building.

“No, she’s my daddy’s girlfriend,” Luke says with a shake of his head. 

“But she’s so young!” Truthfully, Brandon wouldn’t have been able to gauge your age even if he was given one of the numbers, but he heard his mom complaining about the Munson’s dad being with a girl young enough to be his daughter.

While completely untrue since Eddie is only twelve years older than you, Brandon didn’t know nor care, and was just happy he had something he could use to tease Luke.

“So what?” Luke asks, reaching for the brown crayon.

“My mom says your dad should know how ridiculous he looks,” Brandon says. “That he’s probably having a midwife crisis and is trying to feel young again.”

The little girl sitting across from Brandon tilts her head up slightly to look at him beneath her sandy blunt bangs.

“It’s midlife,” she says. 

“Whatever.” Brandon waves her off. “He only wants her cause she’s pretty and young.”

The bully is clearly just parroting what he heard his mother saying, but it gets the intended effect. Luke drops the crayon and his small hands curl into fists.

“She loves my Daddy.”

“But not you,” Brandon says with a shrug, turning to grab a few crayons of his own. “I bet she just puts up with you cause she likes your dad.”

“That’s not true!” Luke shouts.

“Quieter voices, please,” Ms. Fabray says from across the room.

“She’s not your mom,” Brandon goads while starting his own drawing. 

Luke hates that he can’t deny that. You’ve treated him better than his own mother has from the day you met him. It didn’t take long before Luke wished that you were his mom instead of Brittany. When he realized that wasn’t possible, he switched to wanting you to be with his dad. Now that his dream had come true, Luke never thought someone would be so mean about it. 

“But she loves me,” Luke says.

The words are true, he knows it with every fiber of his being. The four words don’t even seem enough to the little boy to encapsulate how much you care for him and do for him. To him, you’re better than a mom, since his frame of reference is so terrible.

“I love my hamster, but I’m not his dad!” Brandon shoots back. 

Luke’s hands bang down on the table and his brow furrows even further.

“I’m not a hamster! And she loves me!”

“What’s going on over there?” Ms. Fabray asks, craning her neck in the direction of the boys.

“She’s a fake mommy,” Brandon continues, ignoring the teacher. “Not a real mommy.”

The fury has come to its boiling point in Luke’s small body. He sees red as he lunges for Brandon, knocking the other boy out of his seat. Both of them land on the rough carpet, a mess of tangled limbs and shouts.

“Boys!” Ms. Fabray yells, hurrying over to them. “Luke! Brandon! Stop it!”

Luke wraps an arm around Brandon’s neck, his Hot Wheels sneakers digging into the ground. Brandon’s legs kick, his heels pounding against Luke’s shins. It causes Luke to let go, and Brandon takes the opportunity to roll over and start hitting Luke in the ribs. 

Ms. Fabray pulls Brandon off by gripping him beneath his armpits and sets him down behind her. Luke hops up and the teacher immediately holds her hands out to keep the boys separate. 

“That is enough!”

“He started it!” Brandon shouts. 

“Nuh uh!” Luke shoots back. “He started making fun of my mo—my dad’s girlfriend!”

“Brandon, you go sit in the corner seat. Luke, you go sit at my desk. Now.”

The gray-skinned demon creature in the novel you’re reading creeps behind the main character and is on the verge of pouncing on her when the door to Eddie’s apartment swings open. You jump and let out a small yelp. 

Eddie ushers a red-faced Luke inside and closes the door behind them. 

“Hey, what’re you guys doing here?” you ask, glancing down at your watch. It’s still hours from when you usually leave to go pick the kids up from school. 

Neither of them answers, but Luke takes off running down the hall to his room. Eddie tosses his keys onto the counter and lets out a heavy sigh. He stumbles over and plops down on the couch next to you. 

“Luke got in a fight.”

“Again? Is he okay” Your eyes widen in shock as you lean in towards your boyfriend. The fight Luke had gotten into when kids made fun of Ryan’s glasses last year doesn’t feel that long ago.

Eddie nods, sighing again. He turns his head to look at you, a small melancholy smile on his face.

“Physically, yeah,” he says. “He’s upset though. He started it over something another kid said. About you.”

If the rug was pulled out from under you with the fight news, this crumbles the entire foundation of the house beneath you.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly. He reaches over and rubs his hand over your thigh. “That you’re not his real mom.”

Your heart drops. Sadness and anger simultaneously begin to fill the now-empty space in your chest. 

“Can I talk to him?” you ask, a tentative tone to your voice. You’d completely understand if Eddie, as his dad, wanted to be the one to handle this. 

“I think you’re the only one who can make him feel better, honestly,” your boyfriend tells you. 

Something about that touches you. The fact that you have a special enough place carved out in Luke’s life that there’s a pain only you can soothe. 

Unsure of how to respond to that, you nod and push yourself up from the couch.

It’s quiet as you approach Luke’s room, but when you peek your head in, you see him sitting on his bed sniffling and rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, you.”

He doesn’t look up at the sound of your voice. Instead, he curls further in on himself and scoots closer to the bottom corner of his bed. Your heart aches more and more with every step you take towards him. 

His Hot Wheels blanket shifts beneath you as you take a seat next to him. 

“Do you want to talk?” you ask him quietly. 

There are a few moments where his sniffling is the only noise in the apartment. Suddenly, Luke turns around and buries his head in your chest, his arms gripping you tightly around the waist. 

A gasp escapes you, shocked at the overt show of emotion. The usually happy and bubbly little boy sobbing into your t-shirt tears your heart in half. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, hugging him close to your body. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo before pressing a kiss into his curls. “I’ve got you. Everything is okay.”

Luke’s heart wrenching cries bring tears to your own eyes and you do your best to blink them away. 

“I love you,” you mumble against his hair. “I love you so much, you wouldn’t believe.”

He pulls back and looks up at you with wide watery eyes. His face is tear-stained and rosy red. The pain you find there is unbearable. You’d give anything to make him feel better, to make him happy.

“I…I love you, t-too,” he warbles out. 

You press a kiss to his forehead, and he pulls away a little more so he can wipe his eyes. 

“Are you okay, sweetie?” you ask, reaching up and wiping away a tear he missed. 

“I-I got in a fight,” he admits. 

“About what?”

His bottom lip wobbles but he swallows down the fresh tears that threaten to pour. 

“Brandon Sim-Simpson kept saying you don’t love me because you’re n-not a r-real mommy.”

“Oh, Luke.” One of the tears that had collected spills down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away. “You don’t think that, do you?”

The little boy shakes his head, his curls bouncing with the motion. You breathe a sigh of relief. It would absolutely break you if Luke believed this punk kid and doubted your affection for him.

“Good.” Gently, you cup Luke’s face in your hands and look him straight in the eye. “Luke, I love you, Ryan, and Daddy more than anything or anyone else in the world. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as I love you.”

“H-He wouldn’t believe me,” Luke sniffles. 

“Well…then he’s stupid.”

Luke’s eyes widen at your words. He never expected to hear you talk like that about a kid. But this particular kid hurt your boy, so you think calling him “stupid” is on the tame end of the spectrum. 

“Honey, you know that I love you. Me, Ryan, and Daddy all know it and we all love each other. That’s all that matters.” You smooth some curls away from his face. “I know what he said hurt you. He was wrong in what he said. But it’s true I’m also not your mommy.”

The six-year-old glumly nods his head, his eyes downcast.

“But…” You tip his chin back up, so he’ll look at you. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you in the same way a mommy does. Because I do. I would do anything for you.” I would die for you, you think to yourself. I would kill for you. “I will love you for the rest of my life, and even after.”

“Even after?” Luke asks.

“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile. “I’ll be a ghost and still try to squeeze you.” You wrap him up in your arms and pull him into your lap. He’s getting a little big for this, but you don’t give a shit.

Luke tucks his head under your chin and his hands grip your upper arms, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. “You’re everything to me, Luke. The fact that I’m not the one who brought you into this world doesn’t change that. Nothing can ever change it. You’re my little boy.”

“You’re better than a mommy,” Luke says against your neck, letting his eyes slip closed.

His words warm your heart, and you give him a soft squeeze. 

“Thank you.” Softly, you rub your hand up and down his back. “Do you feel better?”

You can feel his curls brush against you as he nods his head. He sniffles once more before tilting his head back to look up at you.

“Yes. I’m sorry I got in a fight.”

“I understand the feelings getting too big, sweetheart. But we have to find better ways to express them, okay?”

He nods again and dives back in for another hug. 

You cling to him just as tightly as he does to you. The love the two of you have for one another surrounds you in a warm bubble, solidifying this moment in both of your memories. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Luke, and you’ll spend the rest of your life showing him in a million different ways. 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A family thing

Written for the September pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles blog

Prompt: Anniversary

Rated: T

Tags: Post-Vecna; Everybody lives; Recovery; Disabled Eddie; POV Wayne Munson; Good uncle Wayne Munson; Implied sexual content; Domestic fluff; Found family

The sounds coming from the kitchen pull Wayne from his sleep much earlier than he'd like after a night shift. He lies awake for a while, cursing the government. Sure, they covered Eddie’s medical bills and bought them the new trailer, but would it have killed them to get one with thicker walls? He doesn't need to hear everything the boy gets up to. 

He's almost managed to drift off again when a clatter and a string of swear words make him shoot upright. He barrels out into the corridor that separates the living space from the bedrooms, almost colliding with Steve, who has just barged from Eddie’s room. His eyes are bleary, his hair a tousled mess. He's wearing boxers and a familiar guitar pick necklace, and that is it. 

“Ed?” Wayne asks, ignoring how Steve freezes at the sight of him. “What happened?” 

Eddie, on the kitchen floor in a heap of gangly limbs and fallen crutches, groans. “Wayne! You weren't supposed to wake up.” 

“Yeah, you're making that kinda hard,” Wayne mumbles, eyeing the shattered plates and spilled food on the ground. Toast and bacon and pancakes. There's something stuck in Eddie’s hair that looks like scrambled eggs. 

“What the hell?” Steve mutters, bridging the few steps into the kitchen and dropping into a crouch beside Eddie. Wayne stays where he is and watches. The way Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist to pull him up, careful not to hurt him. How Eddie slings bony arms over Steve’s shoulders, fingers grazing the scars on the boy's back. 

“Why didn't you ask me for help?” Steve asks. The rising sun basks the kitchen in oranges and golds, and for a second, Wayne is overcome by the thought that he mustn't blink, or they'll vanish. “I could've-” 

“What, on this highest of holidays?” Eddie asks, gesturing dramatically as Steve lowers him into one of the kitchen chairs. “Have you no respect for tradition? It is my responsibility and my duty to do this alone.” 

Steve blinks, then looks over at Wayne. 

“Okay? I don't get it.” 

Eddie cackles, gently pushing him aside to beckon Wayne closer. 

“Happy Uncle's Day!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Wayne grumbles, bending at the hip so that Eddie can hug him, but there's an annoying sting behind his eyes. For a moment all he can think is how close he came to losing all of this.

“What the fuck is Uncle's Day?” Steve asks. He's eyeing the calendar on the wall like he's expecting it to spout an extra holiday. 

Eddie scoffs. “Only the most important holiday of the year? You need to stay up to date on-” 

“When Ed was nine years old,” Wayne explains, making his way over to the coffee pot, “he came home one day, seething and spitting venom, ‘cause his teacher had them making Father's Day cards.” 

“Why would I be making that asshole a fucking card?” Eddie grumbles. A pink blush has erupted from the collar of his shirt, but Wayne isn’t sure if it's because of the childhood story or because of the way Steve has pulled out the chair next to his and is finger-combing bits of egg from his curls. “The only thing I should've given him is a kick in-” 

“That's exactly what he said back then,” Wayne says, pouring himself a cup and leaning against the counter. “So we came up with an idea.” 

Steve frowns at Eddie. “Uncle's Day?” 

Eddie beams. “The anniversary of the day Wayne took me in.”

“Dunno if took in is the right term,” Wayne hums around his first sip. “You pretty much let yourself in and refused to leave.” 

Eddie waves him off, as if to say that he won’t argue about the technicalities. Steve’s eyes, meanwhile, have grown large. 

“Wait,” he says. “That's today? Why didn’t- … I’m sorry, I had no idea.” 

Eddie cocks his head at him, smile bright and incredibly fond. It makes a familiar warmth spread behind Wayne’s collarbone, one that has nothing at all to do with the coffee. “Why would you be sorry?” 

Steve gestures awkwardly at the mess that is the kitchen. “This is a family thing. If you’d told me, I’d have left you alone.” 

Eddie laughs. On the tabletop, his fingers find Steve’s. 

“Exactly,” he says. “This is a family thing. You're right where you belong. Ain't he, Wayne?” 

Wayne regards them - two men littered in battle scars, leaning into each other in the hazy morning light - and thinks of a hurt little boy who was too scared to let anyone in. 

“Can't argue with that,” he says. 

Steve's face lights up as if he'd just invited him to spend Christmas morning. 

“I- … thank you,” he stutters, and Wayne gets a feeling that he, too, is still learning to let people in. “Let me clean this up, and then I'll make us new-” 

“Stevie,” Eddie says, and hooks one finger into the necklace to pull him back. His next words are a murmur against the shell of Steve's ear, so low Wayne almost misses them. “Maybe get dressed first, darling.” 

The last thing Wayne sees of Steve as he flees into Eddie’s room is the blush coloring his neck and shoulders. 

“Do you have to tease him like that?” he asks, starting to gather the broken plates off the ground. 

Eddie shrugs. “He can take it. I think that's a basic requirement for joining this family?”  

His eyes find Wayne's, searching for a reaction. 

“Ed,” he says, picking up the crutches and handing them over. “My only requirement ever was for you to be happy. I think your boy has long proven himself in that regard. Now, run over to the Mayfields and ask if we can borrow some eggs, yeah?” 

As Eddie bolts out with a blush matching Steve's, Wayne settles into the newly vacated chair, allowing himself a long sip of coffee and a content sigh. 

It's gonna be a good Uncle's Day. 

[leovenuslatina]

𝒍𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒏 ✶⋆.˚

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

THIS READING IS 18+ MDNI

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

💓what you FS does to turn you on💓

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

-trying something new here-

₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹

(dont worry i’m still answering asks ill just i’m sending them privately now)

💋 tip ur reader 💋

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Pile One - Ace of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, Knight of Wands, Six of Pentacles

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

- Right off the bat your FS is always horny i don’t even know what it is it could be you or it could be that they just have so much pent up energy and you’re the only one he feels comfortable letting it all out with.

- there’s so much wand energy here and i keep hearing that song “thinking with my d!6k” like literally he just cannot keep it in his pants for you.

- to turn you on he gets all up in your space he’ll come up behind you and grind himself on you make sure you feel just how excited or horny he is for you

- your FS will whisper all the things he wants to do to you and what he wants you to do to him he’s very good at telling you what to do. very dominant

- your FS will give you gentle touches all over your body he’ll tell you how pretty or gorgeous you are and how much he’s so in love with you

- he’s very obsessed with being touchy-feely with you to turn you on

- he may even give you long massages to turn you on. he’ll probably want to relax FA you and make you guys feel close he wants you to know that it’s not just about sex when the two of you are being intimate he genuinely just loves being close to you 🥹💓

- to turn you on he’ll hold you very close he’ll definitely loveeeeeee love love having you in his lap. i just keep seeing his hands all over you. squeezing and touching and grabbing at whatever they can.

- i’m also getting your FS is such a freaking tease ! to turn you on your FS will literally touch you all over EXCEPT for exactly where you need him most.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Pile Two - Page of Wands,Queen of Wands, The Fool, Judgment

ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

- Your Fs is very golden retriever vibes when they wanna turn you on there’s sloppy kisses all over your face and neck they’ll tell you how much they love and miss you and how they want to be near you and in you.

- their hands will be all over you trying their hardest to get your close off when he’s wants you to want him they’ll be so rushed to get you under them

- the two of you will have a very exciting and active sexual relationship and you’ll always be all over each other people around you think it’s gross but you guys are just so physically attractive to each other.

- to turn you on your future spouse will use your kinks and fantasies to his advantage he knows them very well because he knows you very well and use them to get you in the mood

- they’ll use your fantasies and kinks to get in your head and make you melt under him

- Pile 2 your FS will take turning you on as a game (not in a bad way) they’ll think it’s so easy to get you all excited and needy for him.

- they take a really relaxed approach to turning you on he likes to take his time he likes to make you feel as needy for him as he can as much as possible

- i think your FS knows you so so well that they’ll know all the little things that turn you on

- for example if you like his arms he’ll like roll his sleeves up slowly or if you like his voice he’ll whisper random things in your ear you know just to get you going

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Pile Three - Justice, King of Cup, Page of Cups

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

- Your FS IS FINE ASF 😤😤 like literally straight outta romance novels like riding on a white horse shirtless kind hot 🥵

- they’re very equal when it comes to freakin anything you do to them they’ll wanna do to you but 10000x better

- i think you’ll always be pretty turned on when you’re with or around your partner just because of how beautiful they but to get you going anymore they’ll pretty much follow your lead

- your Fs is the type of person to mirror you exactly they won’t do anything they think you don’t like or aren’t 100% into

- Your FS may or may not be your first sexual encounter or partner if so they teach you and show you what kinda things you like and they’ll help you explore your sexuality in all ways

- if your FS isn’t your first time they will definitely be your best and will show you just how good sex can be

- To turn you on your FS they will massage you calm you down relax you.

- you maybe the kind of person that has a specific set of needs before hopping right into bed and your FS will be very understanding about that

- Your FS Will always make sure you’re comfortable and happy and consenting before getting anything started

- Your FS is very understanding about any sort of situation you come from they won’t judge you or make you feel bad for your past or anything you make like or want him to do for you or with you.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

[brunchable]

Winter Prince, Part One: I Was Enchated To Meet You

Pairings: Prince, Soon to be King AU Bucky Barnes x Out of place, Princess Reader

Words: 4.5K

Themes: Regency Period AU, Instant attraction, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut.

Summary: Trapped in the palace gardens, Y/N’s escape attempt is interrupted by a mysterious charming man who offers to help. Little does she know, the man she’s avoiding is the one lifting her over the wall.

A/N: You're damn right I took inspiration to Queen Charlotte. Let's call this a "retelling" Bucky will still have his metal arm in this to keep it interesting.

The sound of hooves echoed in the distance, the rhythmic gallop of a horse cutting through the stillness of the early morning. You clutched your dress tighter around you, the fabric tangled in your fingers as you stood before the towering stone wall, your heart pounding. You were almost free—almost—but the moment stretched painfully, as if the world itself held its breath with you.

You glanced over your shoulder, the imposing silhouette of the palace barely visible through the mist. It loomed behind you, a symbol of everything you were bound to—everything you were trying to escape.

Your breath hitched as the soft thudding of hooves grew louder, and you turned back to the wall. Climbing it had seemed easy in the few moments of adrenaline-fueled desperation, but now, standing before it, you realized how futile it was. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t scale the stone, couldn’t flee the life that had been thrust upon you.

The horse slowed, and you heard someone dismount, the creak of leather and the solid thud of boots hitting the ground. Your fingers trembled as you placed them against the wall, ready to make one final, frantic attempt. But before you could take another step, his voice cut through the mist.

“Running away?”

You froze, heat rushing to your cheeks. His tone wasn’t harsh, nor was it amused—just… curious, and that only annoyed you more. 

Slowly, you turned toward the voice, expecting to see one of the palace guards ready to drag you back inside. Instead, a man stood before you, taller than you had imagined, with dark hair tousled by the wind, his sharp features softened by the morning light. He was dressed in simple riding attire, a cloak draped over his broad shoulders, but there was an elegance about him. Certainly not a guard, then?

“Are you going to stop me?” you asked, your voice breathless, daring as your fingers tightened against the stone. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

He chuckled softly, and the sound sent a strange warmth curling through you. “I don’t know,” he mused, a playful glint in his eyes as he stepped closer, “Should I? You seem to be doing a fine job of stopping yourself.”

Your mouth parted in disbelief, heat rising to your face again. “Excuse me?”

He nodded at the wall. “Well, you don’t exactly look like you’re about to make it over, do you?”

You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “I didn’t ask for your commentary.”

The man raised a brow, his lips twitching into a smile. “I’m just saying, climbing walls isn’t for everyone. Especially not someone in a gown.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed your approval to escape,” you shot back, glancing at the wall again and then back at him, frustration bubbling inside you. “Why don’t you just go about your business and let me fail in peace?”

His grin widened, and he crossed his arms, his posture too relaxed for someone who’d just found a would-be escapee. 

“I could help you.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the offer. “Help me?” you echoed, suspicion lacing your words. “Why would you help me?”

“Maybe I like seeing people succeed at impossible things,” he teased, the smirk never leaving his face. “Or maybe I’m just curious to see how far you’ll get.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms tighter. “I don’t trust you.”

“Smart,” he said with a laugh. “But if you want to get over that wall, you’re going to need more than distrust.”

You looked up at the towering stones again, dread gnawing at you. He was right, as irritating as that was. But still…

“And what do you get out of this, then?” you asked, glancing at him warily.

He leaned casually against the wall, watching you intently. “A conversation,” he said, his voice suddenly softer, less teasing. “Tell me why you’re running.”

You scowled at him, the heat rising in your cheeks again, and turned your gaze back to the wall. Frustration bubbled inside you, and you began pacing, sizing up the towering stones as if staring at them hard enough would magically make them easier to climb.

“I don’t need your help,” you muttered under your breath, though you weren’t sure if you were talking to him or the wall at this point. 

You glanced back up at the impossible height of the stone barrier, chewing on your lip as you tried to mentally map out some kind of strategy—any way to make it work. You huffed, planting your hands on your hips, and shifted from foot to foot, casting the man a glare every now and then. He just stood there, arms crossed, watching you with an amused expression, as if you were the most entertaining thing he’d seen in a long time.

After a few moments of pacing and staring—then pacing some more—you let out an exasperated sigh and kicked a small stone out of your path, turning back to face him, arms crossed.

“Well?” you asked, your voice a little more breathless than you’d have liked. “What’s so funny?”

He shook his head, but the grin he was trying to hide betrayed him. 

“Nothing,” he said, the words dripping with humor. “Just… you look like you’re trying to intimidate the wall into letting you pass.”

You glared at him, heat flooding your cheeks. “Maybe I am. Maybe it’ll work.”

His chuckle turned into full-blown laughter, and the sound of it—rich and genuine—sent a strange warmth curling through you, despite your annoyance. He had that kind of laugh that you hated admitting was contagious, and you found your lips twitching upward before you could stop yourself.

“I’m serious!” you huffed, though the playful tone was creeping into your own voice.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, still chuckling softly as he shook his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a mix of frustration and embarrassment bubbling up inside you, but you couldn’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he looked at you.

“Are you just going to laugh at me the whole time, or are you actually going to help?”

He raised his hands in surrender, his grin still firmly in place. “Alright, alright. I’ll help.” 

He took a step closer, the playfulness still in his eyes as he lowered his voice, leaning just a fraction nearer. “But only because I want to see how this goes.”

“Fine,” you muttered, stepping back toward the wall. “Just… don’t get in the way.”

Behind you, you could hear him chuckling softly to himself again, and though it made your frustration bubble over, there was something undeniably magnetic about the way he seemed to find you so… endearing.

And as you started pacing again, casting glances at the wall, trying to figure out just how on earth you’d manage to get over it, you caught him out of the corner of your eye—his gaze still fixed on you, the smile never leaving his face.

You huffed to yourself, kicking at another stone. Of course, the man who found you trying to escape was now laughing at you, and somehow, it didn’t feel as awful as it should.

“How long will you keep pacing around like that?” 

“I’m not pacing,” you grumbled, though you absolutely were.

“Oh, you are,” he countered with a grin. “You’re doing laps. Like maybe if you circle it enough, the wall will shrink. Or get tired of you and let you through.”

Your jaw tightened as heat rose to your cheeks. “I’m sizing it up,” you snapped, planting your hands on your hips as you glanced back at the wall, your frustration bubbling over.

He wasn’t even trying to hide how much he was enjoying this, and it only made your chest tighten with frustration. Why did he have to look so effortlessly amused by your struggle?

“Well?” you demanded, trying to maintain some semblance of authority in the situation. “You know you’re actually not helping?”

“Forgive me, but watching you intimidate the wall might be the most entertaining thing I’ve seen all week.”

You let out an exasperated huff, resisting the urge to stomp your foot in frustration. “I wasn’t intimidating it, I was—”

He cut you off with a light chuckle, waving his hand dismissively. “Sizing it up. Right.”

You were too stunned to respond. The man was infuriating, no question about it, but the warmth in his voice, the look in his eyes—there was something about him that softened the edges of your frustration, made it feel less like a confrontation and more like… banter.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus. No, this was not the time to get distracted by some smug, arrogant man who was finding far too much joy in your struggle. You turned back to the wall, determination flaring inside you.

“If you’re going to help, do it already,” you muttered, planting your hands on your hips again.

“Let’s see how far you can get with a little help.” he said, his voice low and teasing.

He stopped in front of you, eyes gleaming with amusement as he glanced at the towering wall. “You ready?”

You crossed your arms, lifting an eyebrow at him. “Do I have a choice?”

He smirked, leaning down slightly. “Not if you want to get over that wall today.”

You eyed him warily, but there was something in his smile, something disarmingly warm beneath all that arrogance. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you sighed and placed your hand in his.

His grip was firm, strong, and you felt the warmth of his palm seep into your skin as he stepped even closer. The flutter in your chest deepened, but you swallowed it down, ignoring the strange thrill of having him so near.

“Alright,” he said, crouching slightly and motioning toward his shoulders, “Put your foot here, and I’ll lift you up.”

You blinked at him, a sudden rush of heat flooding your face. Wait, what?

“I’m going to boost you over,” he explained, clearly amused at your hesitation. “Unless you’d rather keep pacing around?”

You huffed, your cheeks burning. 

“Fine,” you muttered, carefully lifting your foot toward his shoulder. “But—” You paused, biting your lip as another wave of heat rushed through you. “Don’t look up.”

His grin widened, but he managed to keep his voice steady. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You gave him a skeptical look, your heart thudding loudly in your ears as you gingerly placed your foot on his shoulder. 

“Don’t look up,” you reminded him, your voice sharper, but the flush in your cheeks was impossible to ignore.

“I heard you the first time,” he chuckled softly, keeping his gaze firmly straight ahead.

He hoisted you up easily, his hands firm at your waist, but as soon as you tried to gain some leverage, the fabric of your gown bunched awkwardly around your legs, trapping you mid-air. Your heart pounded as you wobbled, your foot slipping slightly, and for a moment you flailed, trying to catch your balance. The wall still seemed impossibly high, and every move made your gown twist tighter around you, making it harder to gain any footing.

“Careful,” He grunted, steadying you with his grip. “Got it?”

You didn’t. Not at all.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, your voice strained with effort as you tried to move again. The fabric pulled tighter around your legs, making it impossible to lift yourself further. “This dress—how do women escape anything in these things?”

He laughed, and you could feel the vibrations of it under your hands. 

“You’re doing great,” he teased, clearly biting back more laughter. “But if you keep kicking like that, I might not be able to hold you much longer.”

You shot him a glare over your shoulder, heat flooding your face. “This isn’t funny!”

“Oh, it’s very funny from down here,” he said, still chuckling, though his grip on your waist stayed steady.

Another attempt to maneuver only resulted in more tangled fabric. You groaned, realizing that this wasn’t going to work. No matter how hard you tried, the dress wouldn’t let you lift your legs high enough to get over the wall.

“Alright, alright,” you sighed, feeling thoroughly embarrassed as you gave up. “Put me down.”

“You sure? You were making great progress,” he teased, but his hands were already lowering you back down to the ground, the warmth of his touch lingering even as your feet found solid ground again.

As soon as you stood, you stepped back, brushing dirt from your gown and trying to ignore the way your heart still raced, both from the failed climb and from how close he had been.

“Well,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him, “that was a disaster.”

He leaned back on his heels, his grin wide and playful. “Not a total disaster. I got a front-row seat to the best entertainment in town.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him, though the blush creeping up your neck betrayed how flustered you were. 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He chuckled again, crossing his arms to mirror you. “Can’t say it’s not entertaining.”

You sighed and looked around, now you owed him an explanation as to why you’re trying to run away.

“I don’t want to marry a stranger,” you whispered, surprising even yourself with the truth. “I don’t want to be locked away in that palace for the rest of my life, tied to someone I’ve never met.”

He didn’t speak for a second, his expression softening as he studied you. Then, in a gentle tone, he asked, “And who is this stranger you’re so desperate to avoid?”

You sighed, casting a quick glance around as if the mist might swallow you whole. 

“Prince James,” you admitted quietly, your words barely louder than the mist. “I’ve never seen him, never even heard his voice. I don’t know if he’s kind or cruel, if he’s young or old. For all I know, he could be—”

“Hideous?” the man supplied, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his eyes again.

You gave a small, reluctant smile despite yourself. “Or snotty. Cold. Aloof. Traits that I most certainly cannot stand nor find attractive.”

The man chuckled softly, shaking his head as he took a step closer. “Snotty, huh?”

“Well, royalty,” you said, with a little shrug. “They tend to be.”

He studied you again, something like amusement flickering across his face, but there was no mockery in it, just something warm and knowing. 

“You could say I’ve met him a time or two.”

Your brows furrowed at his familiarity with the prince. “Then what’s he like?” you asked, searching his expression for any hint of truth. “Is he… good?”

He seemed to consider your question, his gaze turning thoughtful as though weighing each word. “He’s... complicated,” he finally said, his voice softer, almost wistful. “Not the man people expect him to be.”

You frowned and sarcastically you said, “That’s really comforting.”

But before he could answer, a loud shout echoed from the palace grounds, and you both turned, startled. Your stomach lurched in panic.

“I need to go,” you whispered frantically, your pulse racing as you prepared to bolt.

His hand caught yours before you could move, the warmth of his skin against yours sending a jolt of something startling through you. You looked up at him, breathless.

“I could still help you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. His eyes held yours, deep and unreadable, as though he were making a decision only he could understand.

But there was something in his gaze now, something almost… regretful. 

“Speak what you need to say.” you whispered, the realization dawning on you in slow, staggering pieces.

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes searching yours like he could read the thoughts swirling in your head. He let out a soft sigh and tilted his head, a playful sparkle returning to his eyes.

“What if…” he began, his voice low, “what if the prince isn’t some distant, unfeeling man? What if he’s just a person who hates the cage he’s been placed in as much as you do?”

You blinked, confusion tightening your chest. “What are you talking about?”

He took a step closer, his thumb still grazing the back of your hand, sending that maddening warmth through you. “What if Prince James isn’t the man people whisper about? What if he’s spent his whole life wondering if anyone would see him instead of the title?”

Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words settled like stones in your chest, and you stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “Why would he care? He’s a prince—soon to be King. He’s powerful, he has everything.”

He gave a small, almost sad smile. “What if the power isn’t worth much if it means living a life filled with expectations instead of choices?”

You frowned, shaking your head. “But he could change things if he wanted to.”

James—because you were sure of it now, he wasn’t just some rider—tilted his head, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “What if it’s not that simple? What if the weight of the crown is heavier than it looks?”

Your heart raced as the pieces slowly started to click together. He was still toying with you, but now there was a seriousness beneath it, something deeper. You could see the flicker of emotion behind his blue eyes, like he was daring you to understand.

“What if…” he continued, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper, “the prince is standing right in front of you, hoping you’ll see him?”

The world tilted beneath you. The way he spoke, the familiarity in his tone, the way he carried himself… it all made sense now. And suddenly, the puzzle that had been scattered before you came together in a startling rush of clarity.

“You’re—” The words stuck in your throat as your heart pounded harder, realization hitting you with full force. “You’re Prince James.”

He smiled, a mixture of apology and relief in his expression. “I suppose I am.”

Your mind reeled, his confession crashing over you cold bucket of water. Prince James. The man you had been speaking to, was the very one you were trying to escape. The very one you had feared. Your heart pounded, your pulse a frantic beat in your ears as you looked up at him—really looked at him—for the first time.

Prince James.

"Hello, Y/N." He smiled earnestly, taking your breath away.

You took a step back, your breath hitching in your throat as your gaze swept over him. The dark hair tousled by the morning breeze, the sharp features softened by the mist, the broad shoulders, the casual strength in the way he stood. How had you not realized before? How had you missed it?

Your mouth opened, but no words came. You were speechless. Absolutely, utterly speechless.

His lips twitched in that same infuriating, knowing half-smile, the one that had seemed so harmless before but now felt charged with meaning. 

“I suppose I’m not what you were expecting,” he murmured, his voice low, almost apologetic.

You shook your head, still trying to find your voice, but it was like the words had fled, leaving only the rush of your thoughts, jumbled wildly together. He’s the prince. The one you had dreaded. The one you had tried so hard to avoid.

But he wasn’t at all what you imagined. He wasn’t cold, or distant, or cruel. He was standing here, watching you, his expression open, almost vulnerable, as if he was waiting for your reaction, for you to decide what came next.

Your eyes darted over him again, taking in every detail as if seeing him for the first time—the way his cloak clung to his broad frame, the way his eyes, intense and unwavering, seemed to burn through every wall you'd built around yourself.

And then the shouts echoed again, louder this time, and your stomach clenched with a fresh wave of panic. The palace. The guards. They were looking for you.

His gaze flickered toward the sound, the slightest crease forming between his brows before his eyes were back on you, sharp and unrelenting.

“You need to go,” he said, voice low but urgent. Like the moment itself was slipping away.

“I—” You swallowed hard, your words tangled with the storm raging inside you. You—him—everything felt too much, too fast.

He stepped closer, his hand lifting as if to touch you—like he had to—like he needed to—but stopped just short, his fingers lingering in the air, his breath mingling with yours. 

“I felt the same,” he said, his words rushing out, fierce, quiet. “Curious about you. Wondering if you were like the rest of them, if you were cold, detached. Wondering if you were trapped like me.”

You blinked, caught off guard, your pulse roaring in your ears. What?

“I was afraid,” he continued, his eyes searing into yours. “Afraid you were someone I wouldn’t want to know. Someone I couldn’t stand to look at. I was afraid of you.”

His words hit you like a thunderclap, stealing your breath, your heart stumbling in your chest.

“But gods,” he breathed, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I was wrong.”

You stared at him, utterly speechless, the air thick between you. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.

He took another step closer, his eyes wild, full of something unnameable. “You’re everything I didn’t dare to hope for. You’re bold, you’re brave, and you’re—” His voice broke off, and you watched as his gaze dropped to your lips, then snapped back to your eyes, something fierce and desperate flickering there.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. His words slammed into you, your mind reeling, your heart racing as his admission hung between you, fragile and powerful all at once.

The shouts echoed again, and your body jolted with the reminder of reality crashing back in.

“I need to go,” you whispered, your voice trembling as the world swirled around you.

But before you could move, his hand finally touched yours—fingers brushing against yours, sending a spark through your skin that made you freeze.

“I was wrong about you,” he murmured, his gaze locking with yours, eyes blazing with a heat that made you want to lean into him, to forget the world. “So wrong.”

You swallowed, every nerve in your body alive, humming. His hand slid up, cradling your wrist, his thumb brushing the delicate skin, like he couldn’t stop touching you. 

“Go,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. “Go before I make you stay.”

Your feet refused to move, your heart slamming against your ribs. But you nodded, turning to slip back toward the palace, your body buzzing with his words, the intensity of his gaze.

But before you could disappear into the shadows, you heard him call out—his voice loud, clear, commanding.

You froze, crouching behind the tall hedge, heart hammering against your ribs as you peered through the mist. The guards had gathered around him now, their faces tense with focus as James, with that steady authority in his voice, pointed them in the wrong direction.

“She went the other way—toward the east gate!” His voice was sure, a lie delivered with the ease of someone accustomed to being obeyed. And just like that, the guards nodded, falling in line with his instructions as they turned, their heavy footsteps fading in the opposite direction.

Your pulse thrummed in your ears as you watched them leave, your body still coiled with tension, waiting for something to go wrong. But James remained still, standing tall as the mist curled around him, his face calm, unreadable. And when the last of the guards disappeared into the distance, he did something that made your breath catch.

He glanced back over his shoulder—directly at where you were hiding.

His gaze found yours through the thick hedges, that same intense, burning look he had given you earlier, and for a brief moment, the world stood still. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything, but his eyes held yours with a weight that made it hard to breathe, the unspoken connection between you hanging in the air.

Then, with a slow nod—so subtle you almost missed it—he turned, walking away, his figure swallowed by the swirling mist.

You exhaled, finally letting out the breath you’d been holding. Your entire body was trembling, your mind reeling from everything that had just happened. He had protected you.

Prince James, had lied for you, bought you time, and now the palace loomed ahead, quiet, waiting. Your fingers tightened around the fabric of your gown as you stood up, pressing yourself against the stone wall, making your way back toward the safety of the palace.

You moved silently, your steps soft against the cobblestone as you slipped through the garden paths, every corner casting long shadows. You had to be careful. You couldn’t risk being caught now.

Reaching the palace doors, you hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the mist-shrouded garden. James was gone now, but his presence lingered, the promise of his words still echoing in your mind.

With one last breath, you pulled open the door, slipping inside the familiar corridors of the palace, the warmth of its stone walls closing in around you. It was quiet here, the rest of the palace still asleep, unaware of the storm that had passed just outside its walls.

As you hurried back to your chambers, your heart finally began to slow, but your mind buzzed with everything that had just unfolded. James hadn’t just protected you; he had seen you—really seen you. And now, there was no denying it.

You weren’t running from him anymore.

You were walking straight back to him.

[itneverendshere]

you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (five)

requested here; (one); (two); (three); (four)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(the duff inspired); college!au word count: 5k

Ps: enjoy the fluff bc i might have an epiphany and bring the angst back full force 🥰

It had been days since the talk, and you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. You sat on your couch, staring blankly at your textbook, trying to convince yourself you were focusing on your work, but let’s be real—you weren’t.

You were thinking about him.

The guy who, just two days ago, basically admitted he had feelings for you—and, to your own surprise, you admitted you felt something too. That whole conversation felt surreal. 

It was terrifying in the moment—standing there, in the library after your lunch date with Nate, both of you avoiding eye contact like the plague until one of you finally broke the silence.

And now what? What was supposed to happen next?

You groaned, flopping back onto the couch. Your mind kept remembering how everything felt different now. Like, way different. You couldn’t look at Rafe the same way, couldn’t just be around him without wondering if he was thinking about it too—the kiss, the feelings, the whole thing. 

And then, of course, there were Ava and Harper, who were way too invested in your love life now. Every time you and Rafe were in the same room, they’d shoot each other these obnoxious grins, making over-the-top kissy faces behind his back. Could they be more obvious?

As if on cue, Harper burst through the front door, Ava trailing right behind her.

“Okay, we need details,” Harper said, dropping her bag and plopping down next to you.

“Yeah,” Ava chimed in, sitting on the arm of the couch. “You’ve been weirdly quiet about it for days, and we know something’s up.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “There’s nothing to tell. We talked. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Harper raised an eyebrow. “You two pretty much confessed you like each other. That’s not nothing!”

“Yeah, and now it’s weird,” you muttered, pushing your hair back, trying to find the words for everything that had been running through your mind since that day. “We’re supposed to be friends, you know?”

Ava exchanged a knowing look with Harper. “Sweets, nothing about having feelings for someone is uncomplicated. And besides, this is Rafe we’re talking about. You two hated each other—now you’re into each other. That’s a lot to process.”

“I know.” You chewed on your lip, feeling a little more exposed than you wanted to in that moment. “I just don’t know how to act around him. Before, we could just hang out, and it was fine, and now I’m wondering if he’s thinking about it every second like I am. And what happens if this thing between us doesn’t work?”

Harper grinned. “Or what if it does work? What if you actually, you know… like being with him?”

You shot her a look. “Stop.”

But Harper wasn’t stopping. “Come on, have you seen the way you look at him?

“I don’t look at him!”

“Oh yes you do,” Ava said, laughing when you threw a pillow at her, “You even drool sometimes.”

Harper snorted at her comment. “You totally do, like, the ‘I want to kiss him but I don’t know if I should’ thing with your eyes.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you guys. I knew you’d turn it into a whole thing.”

“Because it is a whole thing!” Ava said, grabbing the pillow you’d thrown and tossing it back at you. “You and Rafe! I mean, come on, this is literally the plot of every teen drama ever.”

You peeked up at her from between your fingers. “Except this isn’t TV.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? You like him, he likes you. Just date already.”

“He didn’t ask me, did he?” You grumble.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about.”

“Oh my god, it’s not about that,” you said, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt your face heat up. Of course they caught that.

You knew why Rafe hadn’t asked you out yet. It wasn’t like he was just being slow or clueless. He was literally waiting because you had told him to. You’re the one who said you needed time to figure yourself out, to see if this was really what you wanted. And he respected that. So, technically, this was all on you.

Still, it didn’t make it any less frustrating. Sure, you asked for time, but now that you had it? You were just overthinking everything and driving yourself nuts. And it wasn’t like you didn’t want him to ask, because, oh my god, you did. 

You were just being pissy for no real reason, sitting here annoyed that he was actually doing what you’d asked him to do. Classic.

You groaned, sinking further into the couch cushions. “I’m such an idiot.”

Harper grinned, clearly enjoying your self-inflicted pain. “Yep. But at least you’re self-aware.”

Ava, ever the voice of reason, patted your knee. “Look, you said you needed time. He’s respecting that, which is honestly kind of amazing. Most guys would’ve freaked out or bailed, but Rafe’s giving you space. That’s a good thing.”

“I know,” you said, exasperated. “I just… I don’t even know what I’m waiting for anymore. What am I trying to figure out? I already like him. It’s just—”

“Just what?” Harper interrupted. “You’re scared?”

“I’m not scared,” you snapped, then immediately sighed. “Okay, fine, maybe I am. I just don’t want to screw things up.”

“Rafe’s not some random hookup,” Ava said softly. “If anything, you guys have been building this thing without even realizing it. He’s not going anywhere, so stop psyching yourself out.”

“Exactly. Just text him and say, ‘Hey, I changed my mind. Let’s go out,’” Harper suggested with a mischievous smirk. “I bet he’ll be here in five minutes, tops. I’ve seen the way he looks at you too."

That was the part that got you.

Rafe Cameron, the guy who used to roll his eyes at you back home, now couldn’t seem to stop looking at you like you were the only person in the room. And you… you liked it. A lot.

Ava nudged you, her grin widening as she pulled out her phone. “Speaking of, is he coming over?”

“Not today,” you mumbled, grabbing your phone to check it anyway.

 No new messages.

“Ugh, you two are impossible,” She groaned, crossing her arms. “When are you going to tell him you actually like him? Like the actual words?

“Yeah, and when are you going to stop playing it so cool?” Harper added.

You scoffed. “You think I’m playing it cool? I literally have no idea what I’m doing.”

Just then, your phone buzzed in your lap. You glanced down and saw Rafe’s name on the screen.

Rafe:  want to grab dinner tonight?

Your heart did that stupid fluttery thing again. Ava leaned over your shoulder, reading the text, while Harper grinned like she was plotting your wedding already.

“Dinner, huh?” Harper teased. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“It’s not a date,” you said quickly, though the idea didn’t sound so bad. “It’s probably just… I don’t know. He wants to talk about the whole feelings thing.”

Ava let out a high-pitched squeal, and Harper started making kissy faces. “Ooooh, talk,” she teased, drawing out the word with an exaggerated wink, “Trust me, it’s a date.”

“Oh my God!” You grabbed another pillow and threw it at them, “You’re so fucking annoying.” You sighed, standing up and grabbing your phone. “If this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming you two.”

Harper beamed. “You’ll thank us later.”

You weren’t sure how you got from your doorm to the restaurant, but there you were, standing in front of Rafe as the two of you waited for a table. This wasn’t the easygoing banter you’d grown used to during study sessions or late-night hangouts. This was… different.

Rafe stood next to you, looking as calm and collected as ever. If he was nervous, he didn’t show it. Meanwhile, your stomach was doing somersaults.

He looked good—like, stupidly, unfairly, make-your-heart-pound-in-your-throat good. The kind of good that made you stop breathing. He was wearing a charcoal grey Henley shirt, the kind you never imagined him in, but now you couldn’t stop imagining it. It clung to his chest and arms in a way that had your mouth watering, showing off his muscular frame more than any of his usual polos ever did.

You swallowed hard, trying to look anywhere but directly at him. But it was impossible to ignore how the sleeves hugged his biceps, or how the soft fabric stretched just slightly across his broad shoulders. Even his hair, usually tousled in a “couldn’t care less” kind of way, looked effortlessly perfect tonight, like he was trying to kill you.

And then he caught you looking.

A slow, knowing grin spread across his face as his eyes met yours, like he could read every thought running through your head. "You good?"

You snapped out of it, blinking quickly, "Yeah, fine," you mumbled, though you were definitely not fine. Not with him standing there looking like he just stepped out of a magazine ad.

"Uh-huh," he said, clearly unconvinced, the smirk on his lips only growing wider. "You sure? You’ve been staring for a while."

You flushed instantly, the heat rising to your cheeks. "I wasn’t staring!"

"Right," Rafe drawled, stepping closer, "If you say so."

The worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing to you. That stupid Henley. He had to know. The server reappeared out of nowhere, "Table for two? Right this way!" she chirped with perfect timing.

You let out a sigh of relief, quickly stepping past Rafe, feeling your heart slow just a little. The place was packed, like it always was—one of those busy pizzerias where you could barely hear yourself think because of all the noise. The smell of freshly baked dough and melted cheese were in the air.

Rafe chuckled under his breath as you followed the server, clearly amused, “Why are you walking so fast?” he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear. You shot him a quick look over your shoulder. 

The server led you to a cozy corner booth near the back of the restaurant. It wasn’t fancy—far from it, actually. The table was slightly sticky, the chairs mismatched, and there was a stack of menus with creases on the edges already waiting for you. You loved it, it reminded you of home somehow.

He slid into the booth across from you, sitting with that same infuriatingly relaxed posture, his eyes never leaving you. "Guess we lucked out with a table," he said casually, picking up a menu.

You nodded, grateful for the noise of the restaurant “Yeah, it’s packed tonight.”

As you read the menu, trying to focus on pizza toppings instead of how good he looked across from you, you couldn’t help but feel the nerves start to fade just a little. It wasn’t fancy, and maybe that was the point. It was just dinner. Just the two of you. You could handle that... right?

"Do you always take this long to pick pizza toppings?" he teased, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. His pretty eyes flickered between you and the menu like this was some kind of game, one you were definitely losing.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the grin that pulled at the corner of your lips. "Sorry, I’m just trying to make sure I don’t ruin this life-altering decision. I know how you feel about your pizza."

That earned you a chuckle. God, why was it so attractive? You forced yourself to stare at the menu again, but your brain was mush. Every time you tried to focus on mozzarella, all you could think about was his stupid smirk and how his arms looked ridiculously good in that shirt. It was casual, but on Rafe? Casual somehow felt dangerous. And yeah, he was dangerous—at least to your heart rate.

"Pepperoni and jalapeño," he said suddenly, his voice dropping like he was letting you in on a secret. "Trust me, it’s the best combo."

"Spicy," you quipped, arching an eyebrow. "Trying to impress me, Cameron?"

Rafe’s smirk deepened, and his eyes did that thing—that thing where they darkened just a little, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you. "If I wanted to impress you, I wouldn’t be ordering pizza."

“Right, kook king and all.”

Rafe just raised an eyebrow, “I’m not that guy anymore, you know. Or have you not noticed?”

Oh, you’d noticed.

How could you not? Rafe had always been the guy you were supposed to avoid. The entitled, rich kid who would’ve scowled at you in disgust not too long ago. But now, here you were, sitting across from him in some hole-in-the-wall pizza place, trying not to melt into a puddle under his attention.

“You’re still a kook,” you pointed out, mostly because teasing him felt safer than admitting you actually liked this version of him.

He shrugged casually, eyes locked on yours. “Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re here, does it?”

You swallowed, trying to stay unaffected by how close he was, the way his voice lowered like the conversation was suddenly just for the two of you. “No, it doesn’t.”

He leaned back, his grin softening. “You’re thinking too much.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “How do you know that?”

“Because you always do.” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re always overthinking everything.”

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been spiraling. It was like you couldn’t just let yourself feel whatever this was without worrying about what would happen next. Whether this thing with Rafe would blow up in your face like a bad movie plot or—worse—turn into something you couldn’t handle.

Jus as his warm smile started to settle you, you heard a voice that made your stomach drop.

“Uh, hey? What’s going on here?”

You froze. 

No way. You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.

Nate.

Rafe’s eyes moved from you to the figure standing just behind you.

Great.

You slowly turned in your seat, Nate was standing there, looking between the two of you. This was bad. So bad. 

“Nate,” you started, “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Nate said, his brows knitting together as he glanced between you and Rafe. “You said you were busy with school stuff tonight.”

You winced. You had told him that. Because technically, you didn’t lie— you had planned on studying, but then Rafe texted you, and well… one thing led to another. And now here you were, on what very much felt like a date, with Nate staring at you like you’d just ripped his heart out. A little bit dramatic.

Rafe, still lounging casually in the booth, watched the whole thing with a raised eyebrow, clearly sizing Nate up, like he always did. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the way he didn’t like this one bit—he was waiting for you to explain, waiting to see how you’d handle this.

“I—um…” You fumbled for words, your brain short-circuiting under the weight of the awkwardness. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you. This is… Rafe and I were just—”

“Just having dinner,” He cut in smoothly, “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tensing as he looked at Rafe. “Right. And how long has this been going on?”

You could hear the accusation in his voice, and it made your stomach twist. Nate wasn’t your boyfriend, but you’d been hanging out—nothing serious, but enough that this looked pretty bad from his perspective.

“Nate, it’s not like that,” you tried to explain. What could you even say right now?

Rafe glanced at you, one eyebrow quirking up like he was daring you to say more. “You don’t owe him an explanation.”

Except you kinda did because you felt like you’d been leading Nate on. You owed him something, even if it was just a proper way to end whatever this was between the two of you.

Nate crossed his arms. “Seems like there’s something to explain, though. I mean, you’ve been acting weird ever since we went to lunch the other day, and now I see you out with him?” He gestured toward Rafe, “So what is this? Are you guys a thing now?”

“Nate…” You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you, but I don’t think this is going to go where you’re hoping it will.”

Nate blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Oh.” His voice dropped, and he looked away for a moment. You felt like a bitch. You’d been the one to start persuing him and now you were doing this. 

“Yeah, I guess that clears it up,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Then his eyes moved back to Rafe, and his expression hardened again. “Just watch out for him, alright?” His voice was stiff, but he wasn’t looking at you when he said it.

He was staring straight at Rafe, who didn’t flinch, just glared right back, his posture still cool, but his jaw tightened. “You don’t need to worry about her,” He said evenly, “I’ve got it covered.”

Nate clenched his fists but then shook his head with a sharp exhale. “Whatever. Take care, okay?” He shot you one last look, and you could see the disappointment there before he turned and walked away.

For a long moment, you just sat there, staring after him, feeling the guilt built in your chest. That had been brutal. Maybe you hadn’t handled things with Nate perfectly, but you hadn’t meant to hurt him like that.

Rafe, on the other hand, didn’t seem phased by Nate’s little number. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, like he was checking in.

You nodded slowly, though you didn’t entirely feel okay. “Yeah… just didn’t expect that.”

“Seems like he’s got it bad for you.”

You shot him a look. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little. But you didn’t answer his question.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What question?”

Rafe tilted his head. “Are we a thing?” Oh god. The way he was looking at you right now—it wasn’t just playful anymore. It was real, and serious. “Well?” 

You took a deep breath, “I guess we are.”

It was like he needed to hear you say it, to own it. "Guess?" he repeated.

"Yeah, I guess we are," you said, more firmly this time. But the second the words left your mouth, you realized you didn’t really “guess.”

You knew. You’d known for a while now, ever since those late-night conversations, the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the room. You weren’t just some fling to him. And that terrified you.

He leaned forward across the table, just close enough that you could catch a hint of his perfume. His hand reached across the table, fingers brushing lightly against yours. It was such a simple touch, but it felt like everything. Like the start of something. You wanted to say something—anything—but your brain had gone completely blank, and all you could do was stare back at him, trying to understand what the hell was happening.

Then, without warning, he shifted in his seat, his long arms reaching across the small table, getting closer, his eyes never leaving yours. Before you could sutter out something stupid, his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you toward him until your lips met.

It wasn’t tentative or slow. It was like he had made up his mind a long time ago, like this was something he’d been waiting to do. It wasn’t deep or drawn out, but it didn’t need to be. You could feel the strength of his hand at your neck, his fingers just barely threading through your hair, like he had some invisible line of control over you, but it wasn’t demanding or forceful. You just knew was holding back, knowing this wasn’t the place for more.

When he pulled back—just an inch—you could still feel his breath against your lips. His eyes stayed on yours, his thumb lightly brushed the nape of your neck and you felt like you were still leaning forward, chasing more even though you knew you couldn’t have it.

It was quick—barely a few seconds—but it left you completely breathless. “Told you, you overthink too much,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear, like it was your little secret.

The next day felt oddly normal, like nothing monumental had happened the night before—except it had. You were walking across campus with him now, books in hand, making easy conversation about random things. No one knew about you two yet—not officially, at least.

As you approached the doors to your building, Rafe slowed down. You weren’t even thinking about it, just caught up in the rhythm of your walk and the conversation, until suddenly he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

It wasn’t premeditated or dramatic—just an automatic gesture, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You eyes widened as you remembered exactly where you were: standing right outside your class building, in the middle of campus, where anyone could see. The kiss had felt so casual, so… normal, like he did it all the time. Like you were his and he didn’t care who saw.

He pulled away just as quickly as he’d kissed you, his lips curving into a smirk as he gave you a nod. “See you later sweets,” he said as if he hadn’t just left you completely flustered. Then he turned and walked off, completely oblivious that you were standing there, still processing what had just happened.

You blinked, trying to collect yourself, when you heard it: high-pitched squeals from just a few feet away.

“Oh my God, oh my GOD!” Harper’s voice was practically a screech.

You looked up to find both her and Ava standing by the door to your classroom, wide-eyed and grinning like they’d just witnessed the biggest scandal of the year.

“No way,” Ava gasped, her hands clapping over her mouth, her eyes darting from you to where Rafe had just walked away. “Did that just happen? Did he just kiss you, right in front of everyone?!”

Harper was already losing it, jumping up and down in excitement, her curls bouncing around her face. “I can’t believe this—finally! FINALLY!”

Your face flushed instantly as you looked between your two best friends. “Guys, it’s not a big deal—” you started, but they were having none of it.

“Not a big deal?!?” Ava cut in, eyes wide in disbelief. “Are you serious?!”

“Literally, he didn’t even hesitate!” Harper added, her hands dramatically flying to her head. “That was so hot! I’m obsessed with this. I need details. What the hell happened last night?”

You groaned, trying to hide the ridiculous grin creeping onto your face. “It’s not—okay, fine, it kind of is a big deal, but can you guys not freak out about it? We haven’t even talked about what this is yet. It's a thing."

Ava’s jaw dropped. “You don’t need to talk! He just kissed you!” She looked like she was about to burst from excitement. “Oh my God, this is so cute, I’m literally dying.”

Harper, still vibrating with energy, grabbed your arm and started pulling you toward the door. “We are so talking about this more later. This is the best day ever.”

After class, you three claimed a table near the windows at the cafeteria. You were mid-laugh, picking at your food, when you finally spilled all the details about last night.

“So, get this,” you sai, “Nate just showed up. Like, out of nowhere. I’m sitting there with Rafe, and then suddenly, boom—He’s standing right in front of us, asking what the hell is going on.”

Harper’s eyes widened, a piece of lettuce dangling from her fork. “No way. No way! And you told him—?”

“I basically had to reject him right then and there,” you admitted, biting your lip. “I felt so bad. He wasn’t my boyfriend or anything, but still, it was awful.”

Ava gasped dramatically, smacking the table with her hand. “Holy shit, I wish I could’ve seen his face.”

You winced, nodding. “Yeah, he was… not happy. But it’s not like I could’ve kept leading him on. I didn’t mean for it to happen in front of Rafe, though.”

“Oh my God, I bet he was loving it,” Harper said, leaning forward with a wicked grin. “He just sat there, didn’t he?”

“Pretty much,” you laughed, shaking your head. “He didn’t say a word until Nate started getting all protective.”

Harper snorted, “It’s so classic. But seriously, how did Nate even find you guys? Was he stalking you or something?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I think it was just a really bad coincidence. I feel like such an asshole, but it’s not like I could just—”

“Ladies.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of that voice, and you almost dropped your fork. Rafe was standing right there, looming over your table like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Speak of the devil,” Ava muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing playfully as she glanced between you and him.

Harper, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned back in her chair “Hey, Cameron. We were just talking about you. Pull up a seat.”

He smirked, clearly picking up on the tone of the conversation, but didn’t hesitate to slide into the empty chair next to you. 

“All good things, I hope,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you.

You shot him a look, “When have I ever spoken highly of you?”

“Awww, missed you too.” he said, smirking as he grabbed a fry off your plate like he’d been part of the conversation the whole time.

“Stop eating my fries,” You scowled, he just shrugged, popping the fry in his mouth like it was no big deal. “I’m gonna smack you,” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “Can you at least get your own fries?”

He smirked, “Why would I do that when I can steal yours?”

Harper let out a dramatic sigh, clasping her hands together. “I love this for you guys. Truly. I can’t wait for the wedding.”

You groaned, throwing a napkin at her, "You’re ridiculous."

Rafe just chuckled, grabbing one last fry. “I think I’m gonna like hanging out with your friends.”

Ava gave you a sly look before turning to him. “Okay, since you’re here now, and we’ve got you trapped—let’s get to the important stuff. What exactly are your intentions with our girl?”

You closed your eyes wanting to sink into the floor.

“Are we talking dates? Or are you planning to ask her out for real?”

Harper leaned forward, clearly invested. “Yeah, Rafe. What’s the hold-up? When’s the official girlfriend status happening?”

You could feel your face heating up, and you shot them both an exasperated look. “Guys, seriously? We’re doing this now?”

Rafe, however, looked completely unbothered by the question as he glanced at you. “I was going to ask her when the time felt right,” he said, “But if you’re so eager, maybe I should just ask her now.”

The entire table fell silent. Ava and Harper exchanging shocked glances, their eyes lighting up with excitement. You, on the other hand, were doing your best not to choke on the air around you.

“Wait, what?” you stammered, wide-eyed, not entirely sure if he was serious or just messing with you.

“You heard me.”

Ava let out a squeal, covering her mouth. “Oh my God, this is happening!”

“Are you seriously asking me that right now? In front of them?”

Harper was practically vibrating in her seat. “Yes, Rafe! Ask her! We need a moment to remember forever!”

“No,” You glared at your friends, “If you ask me to be your girlfriend while you’re munching on those greasy fries, I’ll never speak to you again.”

Rafe just laughed, wiping his hands on a napkin “Yes ma’am.”

What even was this? He had this uncanny ability to make you feel like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you. And the fact that he could make your friends—the two people who knew you best and knew the history between you two—just as obsessed with him as you secretly were? That was dangerous. 

Harper, never one to let a moment die, leaned over the table, her voice all conspiratorial. “You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not like that.”

Ava grinned. “Oh, it so is. Just embrace it, babe.”

Rafe tilted his head, giving you that look .“You gonna keep denying it?”

You felt yourself blush, but you weren’t about to give them all the satisfaction of a full confession. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on your teasing. “Guess I’ll have to make that moment happen soon then.”

Ava let out a dreamy sigh. "I love love."

[luveline]

Hotch’s little sister x Spencer, they gang up on her about her safety or health or something, and she’s like “I’m happy you’re getting along, but don’t love getting ganged up on” 😂

You thought that when things between Spencer and Aaron finally became less awkward again, things would be easier. It was never your intention to drive a wedge between them, but perhaps it’s not your fault. 

After all, Spencer’s the one who chose to date his boss’s younger sister. That was his idea. 

Of course, you ate up his flirting and agreed to all your dates, but still. Spencer’s fault for sure. So why are you in trouble? 

“Honey, I’m honestly a little surprised with you.” Aaron takes a deep breath. “It was a completely unnecessary course of action.” 

Surprised with you is more apt than he realises. “Wait a second, what?” You’d known you were in for a scolding from his weird text, but you have no idea what he’s talking about. 

“You went for a walk in the city alone at midnight?” Aaron frowns. “Have you learned nothing from me?” 

“How do you know I went for a walk?” 

Aaron raises his eyebrows. You look out of the window of his office and straight into the guilty face of your boyfriend. He has the decency not to look away, at least. “Spencer told you that?” 

“He did.” 

You meet the big, soft, beautiful brown eyes of your lovely boyfriend and quirk a finger at him for him to join you in the office. 

“Don’t start, honey.” 

“Aaron, I’m allowed to go for a walk.” 

“In the city? In the middle of the night?” Aaron gives you another unimpressed eyebrow raise. You glare at him, not fond of being questioned. 

“I had my phone.” 

He pinches his brow. 

“Aaron, what’s up with you? I’m well within my rights to go for a walk. I wanted to clear my head. I didn’t go down any side alleys.” 

“You realise you’re being defensive with me because you know it was a silly thing to do.” 

You bristle. The door opens and honestly seeing Spencer’s little frown makes you more annoyed than you had been. “Spencer, why would you tell him my business?” 

“It came up in conversation?” he tries. 

“Spencer.” 

“I was concerned! You can’t just walk around at night in the city by yourself! Who knows what could’ve happened to you, and Hotch agrees with me, it’s too dangerous…” He bites his lip. “I didn’t mean to tattle, and I don’t want to tell you what you can or can’t do.” 

“But I can,” Aaron says. “We all know you’re aware of the danger you put yourself in. Please, don’t do it again.” 

“I feel like I just went back in time a hundred years,” you say. 

“It’s an antiquated attitude, but it’s, you know, grounded firmly in reality,” Spencer says, and you’re surprised to find he isn’t shying away from you now. “It’s reckless. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“It would destroy me,” Aaron says without preamble. “Honey. Please, you can’t do that again, especially without telling someone where you’re going. What if somebody hurt you?” 

You pause to digest what he’s saying. He’d profiled you correctly before —you’re defensive because you already knew you were taking a risk, and you knew if he found out this is how he would react. You hadn’t suspected Spencer would rat you out, but it’s not like he’d been very happy when he learned about it for the first time either. 

“Is this how it’s going to be?” you ask. “You’re going to gang up on me whenever I do something stupid.” 

Aaron’s smile is forgiving and a little bit sorry, too, “I didn’t say stupid, did I?” 

“Reckless,” Spencer supplies. 

“Well. At least you’re both getting along again.” 

“That’s yet to be seen,” Aaron says quickly. 

You wave a hand at Aaron in the universal sign for shut up and turn your full attention to Spencer where he’s laughing in the doorway. You push him out by the chest, not bothering to wait for the office door to close before you start in on him. “That was confidential information, Spencer Reid, which you were privy to as a boyfriend, and not my brother's colleague and conspirator.” 

“I’m sorry.” He smiles, and he’s sincere. “I just knew you’d listen to him.” 

Ugh. Stupid profilers. “Sure, I’ve listened. Now I’m extremely upset and in need of lunch.” 

“Where do you wanna go? I’ll buy,” Spencer says immediately. 

That’s more like it. 

[peachysunrize]

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: none! A bit of angst, mentions of Aemond’s eye pain, flufffff✨

Word count: 5.6k+

A/n: soooooooo what do we think??👀 shit’s bout to hit the faaaan🙂‍↕️🤭 reblogs and comments are so appreciated!💕🥹 also a special thank you to @namelesslosers & @catinapottedplant for beta-ing this for me<3333

Taglist: it’s closed<3

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 7: country club

“It feels like we’re on a secret mission,” you say as you walk hand in hand upstairs towards Alicent’s study with Helaena.

“You know she only allowed me once in this room? The boys aren’t allowed even near the stairs,” she scoffs and you nod at her, knowing how Aegon would probably turn into a kid all over when he steps into a new area. “But to let you inside this room… she either wants to fuck you over for shagging her son or something serious is happening.”

“Alicent fucking me over isn’t serious in your humble opinion?” you ask her, shaking your head when she grins at you. “You’re exactly like Aegon, carbon copy.”

“How dare you?” she gasps, leading you to the end of the hallway. “Aegon is a whore, a lovely one, but still a whore.”

“I didn’t mean that you are one too, what do you take me for?” You nudge her with your elbows, giggling as you walk closer to the door at the end of the path. “I mean you guys are just chaotic! Both of you think your Mum is too dangerous and at the same time she’s a saint.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll back you up in there if she brings up Grandpa and how he says a new relationship is bad for Aemond.” She pats your head and you gawk at her.

“Bitch, you better,” you slap her hand away playfully. “You set us up, I’m gonna snitch on you if your Mum says anything about this. Also… why is it a bad thing for Aemond to move on?”

“That’s… we’ll talk about it later, yeah?” she says awkwardly, knocking on her mother’s study door before she pushes it open, “Oh! Well… morning, Mum.”

“Hi, hey!” Alicent clears her throat as she tries to appear busy with a line on her wooden desk while Criston turns his back to her and looks out of the window, both of them flushed and blushing. “Morning, girls!”

“Hi, Ali,” you look between the couple, watching with amusement as Helaena tries to stifle her giggles and Alicent is nearly fainting with how red and ashamed she looks. “How are you doing on this fine morning?”

“Amazing!” She claps her hands, and sits down on the chair and points at the loveseats in front of her desk. “As you know Aemond’s birthday is in a few days, three to be exact, and I thought we should do something special for him. I mean, as special as he lets us…”

“I don’t remember if I’ve ever been to one of his birthdays,” you shrug. “So, what is the plan?”

“You know we already have our wine selection, we even told him that it will be for his birthday. But… I was thinking about hosting this party in the Targaryen country club.”

“Wow—“

“Are you serious, Mum? Like actually fucking serious?” Helaena cuts you off, her blonde brows twisting in a deep frown. “You’re joking.”

“Hel—“

“No, you know how he feels about them! You know this and you wanna torture him!”

“What? What’s going on?” you ask, trying to intervene in the situation before Helaena says something she might regret later. “Is there going to be someone other than us?”

“Listen to me, my loves,” she sighs and looks at Criston pleadingly before she averts her Bambi eyes to you, “my family is rich enough to buy thousands of these clubs, but during my divorce with Viserys… his one and only condition was that we couldn’t have access to the club without telling him or Rhaenyra first.”

“Basically, she has to invite them all because of a stupid fucking belief when she knows how much pain they have caused Aemond!”

“Helaena.” Alicent’s voice echoes in the room, and for the first time you see how your best friend shrinks from her mother’s gaze. “Darling girl, I will only tell them about a gathering, nothing more or less.”

“Why do you wish to throw this party there?” You reach to hold Helaena’s hand and she squeezes yours in gratitude, helping her calm down a little bit. “I mean we can do this somewhere else! Maybe a party on your family yacht!”

“Because Aemond is a man of history, and that club has been passed on from generation to generation. It holds kind of a legacy for Targaryens. And knowing Aemond and where he decided to get married, I think he will love it.”

“Yeah, he will if the person who cut his eye out doesn’t show up,” Helaena sighs, rubbing her forehead, “Listen, Mum, I love you and I really respect you but… come on, Aemond will not like it if Rhaenyra shows up, nor will any of us! I don’t think he wants to see eye to eye with Viserys after how his wedding turned into shambles.”

“I’m not inviting them, I’ll just text your father’s assistant to tell him we’ll be there. I doubt he wants to join us anyway…” Alicent rests her forehead on her hands, and in an instant, Criston stands next to her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. “Thank you.”

“Does this party have a theme or a dress code?” you ask, leaning back on the seat, trying your best not to show your excitement for your boyfriend’s birthday party.

“It will be a formal gathering, a cocktail party of sorts. Luxurious, comfortable, and a bit of a show-off because my father will join us and he is all about image and reputation, so there will definitely be a few photographers. Oh, and my brother will join us as well!”

“Finally meeting this ultra-rich Uncle Gwayne,” you chuckle, nodding at Alicent. “I hope gifts are allowed.”

“Aemond hates gifts—“

“Let her buy something for him, maybe someone out of the family will change his mind, yeah?” Helaena comes to your rescue, winking at you and squeezing your hand, “Besides, Uncle is going to give him something mind-blowing anyway.”

“Alright, but you will handle his attitude yourself,” she points at you, glancing at Criston, who is silently listening to the conversation. “So, the country club, Rose wine, formal clothes, one single gift from you, and a good few days spent together.”

“I’ve never been to a country club!” you acknowledge, already excited for the next few days you will be spending with the Targaryens. “What should I even pack?”

“Can I pack your clothes? Please? Pretty please?” Helaena begs you, pulling you up on your feet quickly before you both wave goodbye and leave Alicent’s study. “You're gonna be so surprised to see what I have bought you now!”

“You’re so fucking crazy.” You both laugh quietly as you walk past Daeron’s room. “Alright, you can pack my bags. But I’m just gonna—“

“Go, go! Go check up on your man, babe.” She kisses your cheek before she departs from you, skipping toward her room to grab a few things to bring for you.

With a soft sigh, you walk downstairs, moving through the endless hallways of the mansion, and finally reaching Aemond’s room. Knocking on his door gently, you wait for a response, but then you only hear a groan in what you can only assume is pain.

“Little Nerd?” You slowly push the door open, finding Aemond curled up on his side, clutching his duvet hard in his fists. “Baby, are you alright?”

You approach him, padding towards his bed as he trembles slightly, his breaths coming out quickly and unevenly, and with worry, you crawl on his bed behind him, gently brushing his long hair off the spare pillow to rest your elbow on it.

“Hey…” you lean over his face; he is flushed, his good eye is closed and the other is an empty socket. You brush his hair out of his face, caressing his head as gently as you can.

“Darling?” he calls for you, his voice fragile and quivering. You press a kiss on his clammy forehead, rubbing his arm to soothe him a little, finally understanding what he must be dealing with.

“How bad is the pain?” You scoot closer, resting your head on his shoulder while you rub his arm, reaching to caress his fist gently, trying to open his fingers without bothering him. “What can I do for you?”

“Just… just leave,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will, but let me help you, yeah?” you try to convince him, snaking your arm behind his neck, gently rolling him over so there is no weight on his damaged eye. “Come on.”

“I always do it alone, I think I can cope—“

“I know you do, and I’m proud of you for that,” you cut him off before his pain turns into anger, “but you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

“I-I forgot to put my eyepatch on—“ He tries to sit up and move away from you but you wrap your other arm around his middle and keep him on the bed. He can easily push you away, but when he doesn’t, you sigh in relief and pull him down so his back rests on your chest, his head tucked in your shoulder.

“Alys… she used to give me head massages,” he whispers, closing his good eye as he slowly lets his body relax in your arms, the pain of his eye still lingering in the empty socket. “Probably the only thing she did without demanding anything in return.”

“Would you like me to do the same?” you ask, pulling the duvet on top of you, cradling his head in your arms. “Or, I can apply some of the creams you have put there.”

“My head is killing me,” he groans again, turning in your arms to lay his head on your chest, and you tuck him under your chin, holding him close as he grabs your waist. “I forgot to take my meds last night…”

“Oh no.” You squeeze him in your embrace, pouting a little as he battles with the agony. “Tell me how I can help you, maybe I can do something to ease your pain.”

“You can’t do anything,” he sighs and looks up at you, reaching to cup your cheek. “Just stay here, the pills will kick in in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” you rest your hand on top of his, bringing his palm to your lips to press a gentle kiss on it, smiling down at him softly, “Do you wanna talk about something?”

“Yeah, what should we talk about?” He rests his head back on your chest, closing his eye as he listens to your breathing.

“Hmm, maybe your birthday?”

“Not a fucking chance—“

“Oh, come on, don’t be a bummer! You're gonna be twenty-six in a few days! That’s exciting,” you chuckle as he groans and hides his face in your dress, smothering himself between your boobs, “and get your face off of my chest. I know your game, Targaryen.”

“Stop calling me by my last name,” he groans, wrapping his arm around you to hold on to you tightly as a new wave of pain rushes through his nerves. “Fuck—I wish I could die.”

“Hey, look at me,” you look at him seriously, craning his neck to force him to look at you, “I know the pain is bad, my darling, I know… but you will get through it, you have done it before, you will do it again. Don’t you dare say you wish to— fuck I will never forgive you if you say that again.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says quietly, his grip tightening on you as you lean down to kiss the bridge of his nose. “I shouldn’t have said that…”

“Don’t be.” You prep his cheek with kitten kisses. “As long as you have me, I won’t let anything happen to you. Also!”

“No, please—“

“We should pack your clothes! Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun giving you all of my attention on your birthday!” You squeal when he flips you both over, covering the empty socket of his eye before he leans down to kiss you.

Your lips move in sync, slowly and passionately, yearning for more, but you know Aemond is not in the right place to give in to your urges. Instead, you reach to remove his hand from his face after breaking the kiss. 

“Don’t hide yourself from me, baby.” You kiss him this time, letting him slowly relax and get comfortable. He kisses you back, and finally, his pain subsides.

“This is— wow!”

You look around as Aemond drives through the gates of the country club, his free hand mindlessly caressing your thigh. It is a shock that he decided to drive at nighttime, as he mostly lets someone else do the driving at such an hour, but you can sense his nervousness grow with each passing second.

“I know, it’s fucking huge,” he mumbles, rounding the steering wheel as he drives to the parking, stopping the car in front of the doorman. “Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening, Mr. Targaryen.” The man nods at Aemond and you, opening the door for him before he is handed the keys to the car.

You watch Aemond walk towards you, opening the door for you before he realizes his mother is right behind his car, stepping out of the SUV with Cole’s help. You pat his shoulder, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before putting some distance between the two of you, waiting for others to join you and him.

“It’s gorgeous,” you exclaim, looking at the entrance of the building; just as Aemond said, the building itself is huge, but the area leading to it is just as beautiful and wide. You loop hands with Helaena as the group walks upstairs towards the door. “How come we have never come here?”

“Well… Viserys comes here nearly every week. I think Mum didn’t wanna see him at all,” she shrugs. “Anyway, his first wife was obsessed with this place. Not gonna lie, there is a huge portrait of her somewhere in the dining hall… used to make Mum so sad when she caught him staring at her more than glancing at her.”

“Wow, what a piece of shit.” You grimace, giving her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, babe, he’s just… an ass.”

“Don’t worry, no one hates him more than your boyfriend,” she whispers, and you let out a sad chuckle, knowing how much damage he has done to Aemond.

“I might though,” you squeeze her arms, watching as some people open the door for you. “I wanna curse him for hurting my best friend and my man.”

“Oooh, since when?”

“Since the day we fucked—“

“Forget I fucking asked.” She slaps your shoulder playfully, dragging you inside the building. “Welcome to the Targaryen country club!”

“It’s a shame how I’ve never been here,” Helaena rolls her eyes, “but thank you. This is more than I can ever dream of.”

“Alright, we’ve got two days before Aemond’s birthday! Sleep well tonight, and tomorrow, I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay here,” Alicent says and kisses all of you goodnight, and Criston follows her towards the room.

“So, lovers,” Aegon starts, wrapping an arm around Aemond’s shoulders even though he has a hard time reaching his height, “you gonna share a room orrrr—“

“I’m gonna show her around,” Aemond extends his hand for you to take, and you let go of Helaena to reach for him, letting him pull you in his arms as he shrugs Aegon off of him, “and you better shut your mouth about this.”

“I saw nothing,” Aegon throws his hands up, looking at Daeron and Hel, who just nod and shoo you away. “Have fun!”

“They are annoying,” he sighs as he pulls you away from them, walking through the large room with portraits hanging off the wall, leading you to the door which opens to the paths ending with tennis courts, a large swimming pool and a lake nearby.

“How are you feeling?” you ask him, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest. “Are you excited for your chic birthday?”

“Hmmm.” He rests his chin on top of your head as you both walk between the tennis courts. “Not really, at least I have you here. That’s something I look forward to.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You reach a path that’s decorated with willow and other trees, leading to a large golf area. “I like it when I’m with you, I feel… I feel like I can breathe.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Aemond chuckles, kissing the crown of your head, “but I feel the same. There are moments I think I am a better person when I’m around you; less stoic, less uptight.”

“Nope nope, it’s my turn to tell you about how I feel.” You pull away from his embrace, grabbing his hand to step off of the path and walk between the trees. “I’ve never been in a relationship that allows me to be free this much. There’s always been a leash on me and my interests, and to be fair, I’ve never dated someone younger than me.”

“Why the sudden doubt in our age gap?” Aemond asks, a shuddering smile on his face. “Does it bother you?”

“What?” You turn around immediately to look at him, sighing before reaching to cup his face. “No, no, of course not! It’s actually something that crossed my mind a second ago. Two years is nothing, especially when I feel so safe and appreciated when I’m by your side.”

“I just— it’s difficult,” he sighs and rests his hands on your hips. “For me, not-not you. I… I think about how things would have turned out if I was never dumped. I’d never find something more than a friend in you.”

“It’s difficult for me, too.” You caress his cheeks. “This feeling… isn’t meant to be easy. It feels right, I mean what we have is right, despite the odds. You’re fresh out of a relationship that lasted so long, and I’ve been your sister’s friend for so long. It’s kind of sad that if your ex didn’t run away, I wouldn’t be able to even kiss you. That makes me so fucking emotional.”

“Yeah, the heartbreak is still there inside me, somewhere I can’t really reach but I feel it somewhere, more than I’d like to admit. Not because I think about Alys, no, but… did I really deserve that? I absolutely adore you, I can’t put it into words, but I’m lucky to find something—someone worth risking my life for.”

“You don’t know it yet, but you have a tendency to make me melt with your words. It’s annoying, really, how impactful you are.” You make him chuckle, and he dips his head down to kiss you quickly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why are your Mum and Grandpa against our relationship?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, his grip tightening on your hips, “I know Mum loves you, and she’ll approve. No doubt about her, but Otto… well… he cares about our reputation so much. After the wedding, he’s been reaching out to us nonstop. He wants to make sure the world, or specifically, Rhaenyra and Viserys, know that we are in good shape. Me getting into a public relationship is just… so soon.”

“I understand… okay, so you don’t wanna tell others just yet, right?” You lean back on one of the trees, wrapping your arms around Aemond’s neck. “I was curious, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable—“

“Hey, no, absolutely not.” He steals a quick kiss from you, caging you with one hand on the tree and the other on your waist. “I’m glad you asked me. I don’t want you to think I’m keeping you hidden from everyone. I’m proud to be with you, and I would show you off to the world the moment I could.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” You giggle when he nudges his nose against yours. “I wanted to also let you know that your father and sister might join us here.”

You see how he visibly tenses, jaw clenching as he thinks about the last time he saw them — the failed wedding. 

“Whatever,” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from you to take a deep breath, his hands on his hips as he looks up at the sky.

“Aemond, I tried to say something so your Mum would kind of ditch them, but—“

“I know, I know, don’t worry.” He is quick in reassuring you that he knows why they might show up. “Nothing we can do about it now.”

“Come, I wanna spend one night without anyone bothering us,” you say and he agrees, intertwining your fingers as you both walk inside the building, enjoying a quiet night together.

“All I’m saying is that tea is the solution to all of your problems!” Helaena says, crossing her legs as she sips on her morning tea. The sun shines at the grounds of the country club, and Hel’s suggestion to have breakfast in one of the many balconies is extraordinary.

“Bold of you to say that in front of a coffee person,” you reply and reach for your cup. “Also, thank you so much for packing these clothes! I had no idea I owned them.”

“Well, I can't let my bestie stay in our cultural country club without aesthetic clothes—oh, good morning birthday boy!”

“It’s not my birthday yet.” Aemond appears behind you, kissing the top of your head. “Morning, darling.”

“Hi, handsome.” He bends down to kiss you slowly, making Helaena gag once more. “Why do you look so disgusted? You’re not a virgin, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, well, maybe because I grew up with her and you at the same time. And I’m older than both of you and single. Do you see how horrible I must be feeling?” 

“Cut the crap, Hel, I know you’ve been in a very, very steamy friendship with the Stark boy. You ain’t fooling no one.” She turns to you, gawking at you while her cheeks get covered in crimson red, blushing as she looks down at her tea. “Besides, he is hot—“

“I beg your pardon?” Aemond says, frowning at you and you are quick to chuckle and pull him down again, kissing him languidly. “I’m just trying to make her feel better. No one is near as hot as you are, Little Nerd. You are my one and only.”

“Alright, alright, we get it, now sit and eat something. Mum said something about guests coming over today,” Helaena says, and you watch how Aemond’s smile fades slowly. He nods silently and sits down in front of you, taking a sip from the coffee he is sure you made for him as he grows quiet.

“Aemond…” Helaena reaches and squeezes his shoulder. “I know how you feel about them, fucking hell, even I don’t want them around, but it is what it is. Just—I’m begging you, don’t make a scene.”

“As if the last time they didn’t provoke me.” He taps his foot on the ground, sipping on his drink before he sighs and pats his sister’s hand. “I won’t talk to them, don’t worry.”

“I’m worried about you, not them, sweet brother.” She smiles at him sympathetically. “They have the tendency to get under everyone’s skin.”

“Not yours though.” Aemond grabs your hand and caresses your knuckles while he talks to Helaena. “You seem to like them anyway.”

“Right, because I danced one time with Jace shows how much I adore them—“

“You had Aegon vibrating in his seat from anger.”

“Protective much?” you comment, and Aemond shrugs but matches your teasing smirk. “Is it a quality in Targaryen men? Should I be worried?”

“Yeah, if you’d like me to not go to jail.” Helaena scoffs at him, and he continues, “I’d probably kill the man if they lay a hand on you.”

“That’s so fucking hot, but please don’t kill anyone, I need you around.” You lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss like you always do, but pull away quickly so Helaena can have a peaceful moment. “Who are your guests anyway? Besides your father and sister.”

“Grandpa will be here too. Daemon, I think? Oh, and there is a good chance Uncle Gwayne will join us tomorrow!” Helaena explains.

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m gonna take you away from these people the moment we are done saying hi.”

“How charming, Aemond.” You grin at him, hearing the sounds of Aegon’s quick steps reaching the balcony.

“Morning, morning.” Aegon bows dramatically. “Anyway, our precious, most gracious guests have arrived. You won’t believe how horrendous Viserys looks. It’s like a snake has been eating him inside out, it’s fucking creepy.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t say that about our father, Egg.” Helaena stands up and helps you up too, looking between you and Aemond. “Don’t give them a reason to make our lives a living hell. You can disappear when we go outside, yeah? Just not now— and you! Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Aemond nods and with one last reassuring smile, you all step off the balcony, and you watch how Aemond’s walls are back up as he walks downstairs; his face is stoic, emotionless as if he wasn’t grinning a second ago. He walks with his hands locked behind his back, his shoulders rolled back and chin held high. You can see no trace of emotion in him anymore.

“There they are,” Alicent says, her voice soft and welcoming, but everyone can feel the discomfort under it. “Morning, my loves. Come, let us—“

“Yeah, yeah, thank you.” With a wave of a hand, Viserys dismisses the group entirely, limping towards the dining hall with his cane.

“I apologize, Father is really not doing well,” Rhaenyra tells Alicent, a polite smile on her face. “He is more weary than ever. I hope you understand.”

“He could have said a normal hello, couldn’t he?” Aegon sneers, leaning against the wall as he watches everyone.

“Aegon, please.” Alicent looks at her oldest, and once you look down, you see how her nails are bloody and raw from being picked at. “I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“We will, thank you.” Rhaenyra glances at Helaena, giving her a small smile, before she looks at Aemond. “It is nice to see you well, brother. The marriage stunt was pretty horrible. I’m glad you are well enough to host a party.”

“Yeah, one would think two months after a horrible breakup, he would be in ruins.” Daemon’s booming voice echoes in the hall, and your arm tightens around Helaena’s as you watch how he smirks, his and Rhaenyra’s kids coming into view shortly. “The bridesmaid is here too, I see. You have got good company, nephew.”

“I do,” Aemond replies with the coldest voice you have ever heard from him. You watch him breathe softly, masking his feelings easily, but he is an open book to you; he is nervous, a bit angry, and the tension in his jaw and shoulders are evident.

“It’s nice seeing you again, Mr. Targaryen,” you say quickly, not really thrilled with how Daemon gives you an overall look, his smirk widening as he chuckles.

“Yes, yes, very nice,” he looks at Rhaenyra and extends his arm to her. “Shall we, niece?”

“Of course,” Rhaenyra answers and looks at Alicent. “We will not be joining you for lunch. I wish to show the kids around.”

“Make yourself at home.” Alicent nods politely, glaring at Argon before she sighs and reaches to grab Aemond’s arm. “Darling, don’t listen to them, alright?”

“Yes, Mum,” he nods, his fingers fidgeting behind his back. “Don’t worry.”

“Wow, Helaena, you are glowing.” Jace, you remember Hel telling you about him, approaches the two of you. “You look resilient—“

“Back off,” Aegon snaps, pushing himself off the wall, but Daeron is quick to wrap his arm around Aegon’s shoulders to keep him away from his nephew.

“Thank you, Jacaerys,” Helaena responds politely, but grins when she sees her cousins. “I’ve missed you two!”

Baela and Rhaena step forward, and your best friend lets go of your arm to hug the twins.

You glance at Aemond, finding him staring at his nephews while they greet him not-so-enthusiastically, and you take the chance to step in and comfort him with just having his back.

“Hi, I’m Helaena’s friend.” You shake Jace’s hand, but when you see his younger nephew smirking a bit too maliciously, you back off and stand next to Aemond.

“Yeah, I think I remember you!” Jace exclaims, smiling politely as he tries to engage in a conversation with Aemond, but he only replies with low hums and nods.

“I remember you too! At my uncle’s wedding, right?” The younger one whose name you do not remember says, reaching to shake your hand. “Lucerys, pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to see you.” You give him an awkward smile, remembering that he was the one who got into a fight with Aemond when they were kids, sighing when the images of that night play in your mind.

“Babe! Come, come, meet Baela and Rhaena!” You pat Aemond’s arm, lovingly mumbling a quick ‘later’ before you walk towards Hel and hug the twins quickly, enjoying how spiritual they are.

“How about we go and take a quick walk around the building? Maybe we can settle for a game or two!” Daeron says, clapping his hand as he tries to break the tension between his siblings and nephews. 

“I’m gonna go for a ride,” Aemond announces, moving away without waiting for any response, but stops and looks at you. “Have you seen our stables?”

“The stables?” you ask quietly, and when Aegon nudges you from behind, you catch up on Aemond’s thoughts, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning. “No! No, I haven’t! I would love to though!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Aemond walks upstairs, and with an apology you bolt upstairs, following Aemond to his room so he can change, but he stops you and kisses you quickly when you are out of sight. “Wait here, we don’t want anyone to be suspicious, yeah? I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay.” You peck his lips again before pushing him inside the room gently. “Go, go, can’t wait to see you in your riding clothes!”

He only winks and smiles, shutting the door. He changes into his riding leather pants and black shirt, pulling on his knee high boots before he ties his hair in a ponytail.

“Fuck me.” You eye him when he steps out, biting your lip as you rest your palms on his chest, running them down his body as you ogle at his tight pants, enjoying how delicious he looks in his riding clothes. “Why have you been hiding this from me, handsome?”

“Because I knew how much of a pervert you are, darling.” You notice how less nervous he is now, and you kiss his jaw, pressing yourself against him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Glad you are aware of how much I like to fuck you, because right now, nothing seems as wonderful as making you hard in these clothes.”

“You’re a fucking tease,” he groans against your lips. “Stop torturing me.”

“Never. Now come on, I believe you owe me a tour of the stables!” you say, letting him pull you downstairs by the hand, looking around to see if someone is around before he leads you to another path. You walk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face as you walk hand in hand.

“This is my other lady,” he tells you as you walk through the stable, stopping in front of a black mare, running his palm over its long neck. “She doesn’t have a name, unfortunately. Nothing fits her.”

“She’s gorgeous.” He reaches for your hand, gently placing it on the mare’s back, rubbing it softly. “Will you bring her out now?”

“Would you like me to?”

“I would love it very much!” You step aside as Aemond pushes the wooden door open, grabbing his horse’s reins to guide her outside the stables, and you follow him, watching as he mounts the black mare, and bolts his horse to the field. Someone opens the fence for him and he rides through it.

You rest your hands on the fence, smiling at the sight of him rounding the field with his horse, sun shining bright on his silver hair, casting an angelic glow on his face. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie!” 

He smiles at you, stopping in front of you before he points for you to hop over the fence and you do hesitantly, stepping next to his horse.

“Come on, ride with me.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you up with ease, making room to help you sit in front of him. “I remember how scared you were the first time you caught me in our old stables.”

“Please, don’t remind me!” you laugh, throwing your head back on his shoulder. “It was horrendous! I nearly let your father’s stallion stomp on me.”

“Yeah, well, I saved you, so you can thank me for that,” he whispers in your ear, kissing the side of your neck. “Do you wanna step down? I feel you shaking.”

“I’m shaking because the amount of affection I have for you is too intense.” You crane your neck to look at him, and he pulls on the reins to stop the horse as he looks down at you.

“How bad is this affection?”

“So bad that I wanna kiss you in front of everyone.” He leans down, resting his forehead on yours. “Maybe later, yeah?”

“Yeah, you handsome idiot, now kiss me when no one is watching.”

He does kiss you, but unbeknownst to you, there is someone watching.

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER FIVE ━━ Happy Halloween

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.8K

☆ ━ warnings: beau being a dick, vaping, dani’s still depressed as shit, like idk

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: i’m sorry this chapter is so messy and all over the place it’s lowkey my least favorite so far, but good things are coming i promise!!!!

HIS MOUTH presses against hers with an intensity that makes Dani stiffen. Beau kisses her with a hunger that she doesn’t feel, his hands cupping her face, fingers in her hair, deepening it. His lips are rough, insistent, like he’s trying to draw something out of her that she doesn’t want to give.

Dani kisses him back because she knows she should. She tries to match his urgency, his need. But it feels all wrong, like she’s wearing someone else’s skin. Her heart isn’t in the kiss, isn’t with Beau at all. It drifts to other places—another person—and she can’t shake the growing discomfort building in her chest.

Beau’s hands roam lower, sliding from her face to her waist, gripping her hips firmly as he presses closer. The position is uncomfortable in the small confines of his car, and she shifts slightly. She thinks he takes that as an invitation, because he moves closer, his mouth trailing from her lips to her neck, kissing a path down to her collarbone, closer to her chest. The top she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination there, and he seems to like that. Dani’s breath hitches, body tensing. She isn’t here. She doesn’t want this.

But Beau doesn’t pay attention to the way her body recoils. He doesn’t notice how she stiffens under his touch. He’s too focused on his own need, his mouth feverish against her skin as he starts fumbling with the button of her jeans, eager to go further.

“Beau, stop,” Dani says softly, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t stop. His hands are moving too fast, his breath hot and uneven against her neck as he presses harder to her.

“Beau, stop,” she repeats, more forceful this time, her hands pushing at his chest.

He ignores her, his hand still tugging at her jeans, more urgent now. “You can’t just keep doing this. We haven’t—” He pulls back just enough to look at her, frustration written all over his face. “You barely even let me kiss you anymore. What’s the point of us if you’re just gonna shut down every time I try to get close?”

She slaps at his hand now, and he finally retracts it. “I said stop,” she mumbles, breath quickening.

Beau sits back in his seat, his face darkening slightly. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ, Dani. What the hell is your problem? We haven’t fucked in weeks. You won’t even touch me, and now this? What, do you not even want me anymore?” His voice grows louder, harsher with each word.

Dani stares at him, her chest tight, her hands trembling in her lap. She doesn’t have the words to explain it to him, can’t tell him how disgusted she feels with herself every time they’re together. How she feels like she’s living a lie, forcing herself into a relationship she doesn’t want, creating a life that isn’t meant to be hers. But all she can manage is a weak, “I just… I don’t feel like it, okay? Can’t you respect that?”

“Respect that?” Beau’s eyes narrow, and he scoffs, shaking his head. “How the hell am I supposed to respect that when you don’t give me anything to work with? I’ve been patient, Dani. I’ve tried to give you space. But I’m not one of your fucking Catholic saints. I have needs, too.”

Dani winces at his words, feeling the sting of guilt and shame twist in her stomach. She hates this, hates the way he makes it sound like she’s failing him by not being able to give him what he wanted. But at the same time, she hates herself more for letting it get this far—for pretending she can be someone she’s not.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry, okay? I just—”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Beau snaps, cutting her off. “I’ve been dealing with your bullshit for weeks now, Dani. You’re distant, you’re cold, you won’t even look me in the eyes half the time. If this is how it’s gonna be, then maybe we shouldn’t go to the Halloween party together tomorrow. Hell, maybe you shouldn’t come at all.”

Dani’s throat tightens, and she feels the hot prickle of tears burning behind her eyes. “Beau, I—”

“No.” His voice is sharp, final. “You need to figure your shit out. Because I can’t keep doing this.” He unlocks the car doors, staring at her expectantly. “Get out.”

Dani blinks, stunned, thinking she may have misheard. “What?”

“Get out of the car.” His eyes are hard, cold. “If you’re gonna be like this, then just… go. Walk home. Maybe that’ll give you time to think about what you really want.”

“Are you serious?” Dani’s snaps, looking at him in disbelief. They’re parked in some random lot, miles away from her house. It’s dark, and she has no way of getting home except by walking. She can’t even call someone to come pick her up, because her phone died a little bit ago.

“I said get out,” Beau repeats, his voice like ice.

Dani swallows hard, before scoffing, opening the passenger door. She steps out into the chilly night air, and, immediately, she wishes she brought a jacket, the small cropped shirt she’s got on not doing anything to shield the cold.

Before she can say anything else, Beau reaches over and slams the door shut from the inside. He speeds off, leaving her standing alone in the dark parking lot, the distant sound of his car’s engine fading into the night.

The silence around her is deafening. Dani stands frozen for a moment, her arms wrapped around herself as the cold wind bites at her skin. She blinks back the tears that blur her vision, the ones she desperately tried to keep in so that he couldn’t see them, her mind racing with thoughts of everything that led her to this moment.

She wants to scream. To sob. To fall apart. But there’s no one here to see it, no one to hear her.

With a deep, shuddering breath, she starts walking.

PAIGE’S HANDS lazily hold the steering wheel as she drives down the empty, dim lit street, the hum of her car’s engine and the quiet voice of Drake the only sounds to keep her company. She’s just left Thaliah’s house after a low-key night spent playing Fortnite, and she’s thankful now that she finally has her license—no more relying on her friends or her dad for rides. The freedom is nice, the kind of feeling she’s been craving for a while.

As she continues driving along the road, something flickers at the edge of her vision, pulling her from her thoughts. A figure. A lone person walking down the sidewalk. Paige furrows her brows as she drives past, the figure just barely visible under the faint glow of the streetlamp. She turns her head a little, squinting as she stares at her side mirrors. All she really sees from that view is long hair blowing in the wind. A girl. It’s late—after midnight—and what girl would be stupid enough to be walking alone at this time?

Paige’s mind runs through the possibilities, but something gnaws at her. The silhouette looked familiar, like someone she knows. Someone with a very specific walk, a hunched posture, a familiar dip of the head, long hair…

No way. No fucking way.

She’s driven past already, but the doubt lingers in her mind, tugging at her. Paige’s hands hover over the wheel, her foot still on the gas as she debates with herself. But her gut is screaming—if it had vocal chords, they would be shredded by now. Because if it’s who she thinks it is, she can’t just leave it alone. She can’t ignore it.

With a frustrated groan, Paige quickly makes a sharp U-turn to go back the way she came. The street is dead silent, save for the crunch of her tires on the pavement. As she nears the figure again, her heart rate speeds up. Please don’t let it be her. Please don’t let it be Dani.

But as she slows down, pulling up alongside the sidewalk, her breath catches in her throat. She should’ve known all along, shouldn’t have even questioned herself. Because consciously, subconsciously, in any way possible—Paige always knows Dani. She can pick her out in any crowd, so doing it on a deserted street isn’t so hard. And she’s very right, because this is Dani. Walking alone. And it’s cold as hell out, too. She’s wearing nothing but ripped jeans and a cropped t-shirt. What the fuck is she doing?

Paige slows to a stop, rolling down the passenger window. Dani immediately stiffens, her head whipping toward the car, eyes wide. Paige leans over, her voice cutting through the silence.

“Dani, what’re you doing?” she asks, her voice sharp with concern and an edge of accusation.

Dani stares at her in disbelief, her brows knitting together in surprise. “Fuck, I thought you were some old man about to kidnap me,” she mutters, wrapping her arms around herself as a gust of wind whips through the air.

Paige rolls her eyes, the tension easing from her chest just a bit. “No, I’m not gonna kidnap you,” she says flatly. “But someone else fucking might. Get in the car.”

Dani hesitates, her gaze flicking between Paige and the road ahead. Her lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, Paige thinks she might refuse. There’s a tension in Dani’s stance, a stubbornness that Paige knows all too well.

“Dani, seriously,” Paige presses, her tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “It’s freezing out. I’m not leaving you out here alone.”

Dani sighs, a puff of visible breath in the chilly air, before muttering, “Fine.” She reaches for the door handle, and with a click, the door swings open, and Dani slides into the passenger seat.

Paige immediately turns the heat up, casting a quick glance at Dani. Her arms are crossed, her shoulders hunched, and Paige can see her shivering, despite the attempt to seem unbothered. Paige’s chest tightens with concern as she wonders what the hell could’ve happened to land Dani in this situation.

For a few moments, the car is filled with an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of the heater kicking in. Paige tries to focus on the road, but her mind races with a million questions on why Dani’s out here in the first place, why she was walking all alone in the dark as a teenager girl that most certainly could not defend herself should a kidnapper find her.

“What were you doing out there?” Paige finally asks, her voice more gentle this time, though still laced with concern. “Why are you out this late by yourself?”

Dani shakes her head, her eyes fixed on the dashboard in front of her. “It’s nothing,” she mumbles, her voice flat, detached.

Paige frowns, tightening her grip on the wheel. “It’s not nothing. It’s past midnight, and you’re walking around in the cold like it’s the middle of the day. What happened?” she presses, sending a glance at her ex-best friend.

Dani stays silent for a moment, then scoffs lightly, turning to look at Paige. “When’d you get your license? I thought you couldn’t drive?”

Paige rolls her eyes, biting back her frustration. “Don’t change the subject, Dani.”

Dani shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, her arms tightening around her body like she’s trying to make herself smaller. “Just… drop it, Paige,” she replies, dismissive.

Paige exhales sharply, shifting her eyes over at her again. Dani’s walls are up, higher than ever. It isn’t like her to be this closed off with Paige. Or, at least, it hadn’t been like this before… before everything went sideways between them. No matter how much she hates it, Paige supposes she should get used to it—this is their new normal, after all.

“I’m not dropping it,” Paige shoots back, keeping her voice steady. “Not when I find you walking around alone at night looking like…” She trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence without pushing too far.

Dani’s jaw clenches. “Like what?” she snaps, her eyes flashing with an edge of anger.

“Like you’re not okay,” Paige says, softer now, her eyes darting between Dani and the road. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Dani lets out a harsh breath, her fingers digging into her arms as she stares out the window. “I’m fine, Paige. Seriously.”

Paige doesn’t buy it for a second. Not with the way Dani’s sitting there, tense and cold and distant and—no matter how much she tries to hide it—vulnerable.

“Fine? Really? Because it sure doesn’t look like it,” Paige mutters. She knows she’s walking a fine line—at this point, Paige is probably the last person Dani wants to open up to right now, and pushing her too hard could make her shut down even more. But Paige can’t just sit there and pretend like everything is okay when it clearly isn’t.

Dani shakes her head again, more forcefully this time. “I’m fine. I just—” She cuts herself off, biting her lip, like she doesn’t even believe her own words.

Paige isn’t sure what it is, but something about Dani’s demeanor—the way she’s hunched over, trying to make herself disappear—makes her feel sick. Dani’s so different from the girl Paige used to know. Something’s wrong. Something’s been wrong for months now.

“Did Beau do something?” Paige asks quietly. It’s probably not the long term issue, the reason for the girl’s whole switch up, but Paige thinks it damn well could be the reason Dani’s in this situation tonight—and the thought makes the blonde’s stomach sick.

Dani stiffens immediately at the name. That reaction tells Paige everything she needs to know.

Nonetheless, Dani’s laugh is bitter, a sharp sound that cuts through the quiet car. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

Paige’s heart drops, her pulse quickening. “Dani…”

But Dani turns her head away, staring out the window like she can’t bear to look at Paige anymore. “Just drive me home, okay?”

Paige hesitates, her throat tight, but eventually, she nods, pressing her foot down on the gas. The tension in the car is palpable, and Paige hates it—hates the silence, hates the distance between them. But she feels like she’s exhausted all she can do to try and repair it between them, so she leaves it be, and turns up the music just slightly.

The road stretches out ahead, leading them back toward their neighborhood, toward the familiarity of home. But as the houses grow closer, Paige can’t shake the feeling that something is just deeply wrong. And this isn’t just about tonight. It isn’t just about Dani walking alone in the dark.

This is about everything that’s happened between them—everything that’s changed since Dani was sent to that camp over the summer. Since Dani had come back different. Closed off. Dani hasn’t been the same since she returned, and even though Paige doesn’t know the full story—well, doesn’t even know an ounce of if, actually—she can still feel the weight of it.

Paige glances over at Dani once more, but Dani’s back to staring out the window, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself. In spite of everything, Dani’s still shivering, and Paige knows it’s not from the cold—the heat has surrounded her car by now. It’s about everything else.

They turn down their street, the familiar houses coming into view, bathed in the soft glow of porch lights. Paige can see her house up ahead, just a few doors down from Dani’s. Normally, this is where they’d share a goodbye, a see-you-later. But nothing is normal anymore.

Paige slows as they near Dani’s house, and for a moment, she considers just pulling into her own driveway, since their houses are right next to each other. But something stops her. Even if they live right next door, this still feels different. Dani needs more from her than just a quick drop-off. Paige needs to make sure Dani knows she’s not alone, even if she can’t fix whatever’s going on.

So, she pulls into Dani’s driveway instead, parking right next to Dani’s car. Paige’s car idles for a second, the engine’s soft hum the only sound between them. Paige shifts in her seat, looking over at Dani, who still hadn’t moved.

“You’re home,” Paige says quietly, breaking the silence.

Dani finally tears her eyes away from the window and sets her eyes on Paige, her expression guarded, tired. For a second, Paige thinks Dani’s just going to get out without a word, like every other time they’ve had one of these stilted, painful interactions. But then, Dani surprises her.

Dani shifts in her seat, turning slightly so she can look at Paige more directly. Her eyes soften, just for a moment, as she holds the blonde’s gaze. “Thank you,” she says quietly, her voice low but sincere. “For picking me up.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the sudden change in Dani’s tone. There’s no anger, no sarcasm, no bitterness in her voice. It’s raw, earnest. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Paige sees a glimpse of the old Dani—the one who didn’t have walls up between them. The one who trusted her.

Paige nods, unable to find her voice for a second. “Yeah. Of course,” she manages to say, her heart aching at how much she misses that side of Dani. The side that isn’t buried under layers of pain and fear.

Dani lingers for a moment, her eyes searching Paige’s face, like there’s something she wants to say but can’t find the words. Then, without another word, she reaches for the door handle and steps out of the car. Paige watches as Dani walks toward her front door, her shoulders hunched against the cold, but there’s something softer in her movements now. Something less defensive.

Paige stays in the car, watching as Dani unlocks her door and steps inside, the porch light flickering off as the door clicks shut behind her. The house swallows her up, and Paige is left sitting there in the quiet, her mind racing with everything that’s just happened.

It isn’t much. A simple thank you. But it’s the first real crack in the wall Dani’s built between them, and Paige can’t help but hold on to that. Maybe it’s a start.

She sighs softly, leaning back in her seat for a moment before putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the driveway. As she makes her way back to her own house, just a few yards away, Paige can’t shake the feeling that things are far from okay between them. But for the first time in a long time, she feels like maybe there’s hope.

And for now, that’s enough.

PAIGE SITS cross-legged on Thaliah’s bed, absentmindedly picking at the hem of her shirt, while Jalen lounges next to her, scrolling through his phone. Both of them are already dressed in their costumes, though neither put in much effort. Paige went the simple route—she’s wearing an old basketball jersey with some fake blood smeared across her face, playing the part of some sort of dead or zombie hooper—she doesn’t even really know herself, if she’s honest. Jalen wears a black hoodie and he’s got a plastic scythe, calling himself the Grim Reaper. Basic, but effective.

Thaliah, on the other hand, is still in front of her vanity, meticulously applying the finishing touches to her makeup. She’s going all out, dressed as a witch, complete with dramatic eye shadow, dark lipstick, and glitter cascading along her cheekbones. Her hair is done up in some complicated updo, and Paige is sure Thaliah will be the best dressed person at the party. As usual.

Paige leans back, resting on her hands, eyes distant as she vents, her voice low but agitated. “I just don’t get it. Like, why the hell would Dani even doing out there last night? Alone? She was walking by herself literally at twelve-thirty, J. She could’ve gotten kidnapped or murdered or—or something!” Her voice wavered with frustration and disbelief, and she glances at Jalen, hoping he’ll give some sort of input.

Jalen shrugs a little, tossing his phone aside and turning toward her. His brows are furrowed in the way they are only when he’s concerned. “Yeah, it’s fuckin’ weird, P. Did you ask her what happened?”

Paige lets out a sigh, her frustration evident. “Of course I did. She just brushed it off, said it was ‘nothing’—like that’s supposed to make me feel better about it.” She throws her hands up in the air, expressing the confusion she’s feeling. “And I swear, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. She was, like, literally freezing and she looked so sad and I’m just like—what the hell happened?”

Thaliah, still working on her eyeliner, chimes in from the vanity, not looking up but clearly listening. “Dani’s been distant for months, Paige. It’s been off ever since she got back from camp. I don’t think it’s just about last night. Something’s been wrong for a while now.”

Paige nods, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jersey. “I know. But last night just made it so much more real. I feel like—I don’t know—I feel like something happened. Maybe it was Beau. Maybe he did something to her.”

At that, Jalen’s eyes narrow slightly. He’s always quick to jump to conclusions when it comes to Beau Hudson, a guy that he’s had problems with for years now. “You think he hurt her? I mean, he is the type.”

Paige bites her lip, her mind racing with the possibilities. “I don’t know. Maybe? It’s not like Dani would tell me, though. She doesn’t talk to me anymore.”

There’s a long pause as all three of them sit in the heavy silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. They’s all thinking the same thing—what the hell happened to Dani? The girl they all knew so well has practically disappeared, replaced by someone colder, someone more distant, someone more shallow.

Thaliah finally puts down her eyeliner, spinning around in her chair to face them. “Something’s definitely up with her. But I don’t think it’s Beau that’s the main problem. I mean, she started acting like this before she and that bitch boy got together. Paige, I know you weren’t here when it happened, but she started dating Beau after she cut J and I off,” Thaliah points out, staring at the pair of her friend son the bed expectantly. But then she sighs, shaking her head, adding, “But if she’s not talking, what are we supposed to do? Just keep watching her spiral and probably ruin her life? Like, I don’t even know.”

Paige clenches her jaw, her mind racing with the memory of Dani walking along that dark sidewalk, looking so alone, so vulnerable. “I don’t want to just sit back and do nothing.” But she knows Thaliah is right—there’s really not much they can do if Dani won’t give them the light of day.

Thaliah shakes her head a little before standing up and moving toward her bed, where Paige and Jalen sit. She grabs her vape off the nightstand and takes a long drag, blowing the smoke out in a cloud that lingers in the air before dissipating. “Look, Dani’s been different for a while, but we can’t fix it tonight. We can’t fix her tonight.”

Paige frowns, her stomach sinking at those words. Fix her. It isn’t like Dani’s broken, but she isn’t herself either. Still, she understands what Thaliah is saying. She just doesn’t like it.

Thaliah hands the vape to Paige, raising her eyebrows when Paige hesitates before taking it. “C’mon, you need to relax. It’s Halloween. We’re supposed to be having fun, not stressing out over all this. Dani’s a tomorrow problem.”

Paige rolls her eyes but accepts the vape anyway, taking a small hit and handing it back. The familiar burn fills her lungs for a moment before she exhales, watching the smoke curl up toward the ceiling. “I just hate that we don’t know what’s going on with her.”

Jalen sits up straighter, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ll figure it out, P. We just have to give her time. Maybe tonight, she’ll show up at the party, and we can talk to her then.”

Thaliah shakes her head, leaning back against her vanity. “Doubt it. She’s been avoiding us for weeks. Even if she shows, it’ll be with Hudson and that prissy Serena girl, and it’ll end in shit like it did last time.”

Paige knows Thaliah’s probably right. They’ve gone to the same parties a couple times since school started, and each time, Dani stays closed to Beau Hudson and Serena Corren’s sides, not bothering to give any attention to Paige. The odds of her suddenly showing up and deciding to speak to them at tonight’s Halloween thing seems slim. Still, Paige can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, Dani will surprise her.

Thaliah takes another drag from the vape before offering it back to Paige, who takes another hit, letting the smoke relax her nerves just a bit. “But seriously,” Thaliah says as she exhales, “tonight’s about us. Let’s just have fun, forget about all the drama, and worry about Dani tomorrow. It’s Halloween! We deserve a good night.”

Paige smiles faintly, nodding. Thaliah’s right. Tonight is supposed to be fun. Maybe she can take a break from worrying for one night. Maybe.

And, she thinks maybe she really actually can, because the party does turn out to be fun. It’s a lot different from the last party she went to, the one where she drank herself stupid and fought Beau Hudson. She doesn’t regret the second part… just thinks she could’ve found a better way to do it. But tonight, she’s the designated driver, meaning she’s sticking to her Sprite, laying off the alcohol. But it doesn’t really matter. She doesn’t need to drink to have fun with her friends—especially on Halloween.

The house is decked out for Halloween—fake spider webs hanging from the ceiling, carved pumpkins in every corner, and purple lights casting shadows along the walls. Most people are dressed in costumes, though a lot are half-assed like Paige and Jalen’s. Paige gets a laugh out of a guy dressed in a banana costume, dancing on a table, though.

Eventually, Paige, Jalen, and Thaliah settle in the living room, perching on the couches and standing with some of their other friends from school and basketball and such. It’s easy, it’s fun, the atmosphere is lively but not chaotic. Paige enjoys it.

That is, until out of the corner of her eye, she spots them.

Beau Hudson, Serena Corren, and the rest of that group Dani’s been hanging around with lately are clustered near the kitchen, laughing and talking amongst themselves. Paige’s stomach tightens, her eyes scanning the group for one specific person. Dani. But as she searches, she realizes with a sinking feeling that Dani isn’t here.

Paige narrows her eyes slightly, confused. Dani’s always with them—whenever Beau and his friends show up to a party, the girl’s practically glued to his side. But tonight, she’s nowhere around.

Paige glances over at Thaliah, who’s too busy chatting with some girls to notice her. So, the blonde taps Jalen on the shoulder, nodding toward Beau and his friends. “Hudson’s here,” she acknowledges.

Jalen follows her gaze, rolling his eyes. “Dick,” he mutters, his disdain for the quarterback evident. He stares at the group for a second longer before Paige watches a familiar flicker of confusion cross along his face. “Dani’s not with ‘em?”

Paige shakes her head, mind racing. It’s so weird. Ever since Dani started dating Beau, they‘be been almost inseparable, especially at parties like this. But now, Dani just… gone. And it doesn’t sit right with Paige. Especially not after what happened last night.

However, before she can dwell on it too long, nature calls. She needs to pee. Paige stands up, muttering something to Jalen about finding the bathroom. As she makes her way through the crowded house, her mind stays locked on the thought of the Callan girl. Maybe Paige is just being dramatic. Maybe Dani is here and she just hasn’t seen her and she’s worrying for no reason.

When she finally finds the hallway leading to the bathroom, she groans. There’s a line.

And the person standing at the back of the line? None other than Beau Hudson himself.

Paige’s eyes narrow as she approaches, trying to play it casual. She leans against the wall, taking Thaliah’s vape out of her pocket and bringing it to her lips. She inhales, letting the vapor fill her lungs as she stares at the back of Beau’s head. He hasn’t noticed her yet, so she waits a beat before speaking.

“Dani here?” she asks, her tone nonchalant.

Beau turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder at her. His expression is somewhere between annoyed and smug, like he can’t be bothered with her question. “Nope,” he replies shortly, turning back to face the bathroom door as if that’s the end of the conversation.

But Paige isn’t done. She presses, “How come?”

Beau scoffs, a low, bitter sound that grates on Paige’s nerves. “You’re fuckin’ nosy, Bueckers,” he mutters, barely looking at her.

Paige raises an eyebrow, not backing down. “Well, when it comes to Dani, yeah. I am.” Her voice is sharp, but controlled. She isn’t about to let him dismiss her like that.

Beau finally turns to face her fully, his expression twisted with irritation. “Why do you care, anyway? You’re not even friends anymore.”

Paige clenches her jaw, holding his gaze. “Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

For a moment, there’s a tense silence between them, the music and chatter from the party seeming distant in comparison to the charged atmosphere in the hallway. Paige can feel her heart racing, could feel the anger bubbling under the surface.

Beau breaks the silence first, rolling his eyes as if he can’t be bothered with her anymore. “She’s probably rotting in her bedroom right now. I told her not to come.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the harshness in his voice. “What? Why?”

Beau shrugs, leaning casually against the wall as if what he’s saying is no big deal. Which, to him, it probably isn’t. “She’s been a bitch lately. Told her to stay home.”

Paige’s grip on the vape tightens as a rush of anger surges through her. She hates him. She hates how he talks about Dani like that, like she’s just some inconvenience instead of his girlfriend. The same girlfriend he’s never deserved.

The same girlfriend that Paige picked up in the middle of the night last night.

Her gaze slides to Beau, and before she can stop herself, the words are out of her mouth. “Did you do something to Dani last night?”

Beau’s head snaps toward her, his eyes narrowing. “What the fuck are you talking about?” His tone is defensive, a little too defensive for someone who’s supposedly innocent.

Paige doesn’t back down, her pulse quickening as the frustration bubbles to the surface. “Last night,” she repeats, her voice steady. “I found her walking home alone in the middle of the night. She wouldn’t even tell me what was going on. So I’m asking you, Beau—did you leave her out there?”

Beau’s expression shifts, his jaw tightening as he stands up straighter, his arms dropping to his sides. “Are you seriously accusing me of something?” he snaps, his voice low and threatening. “I didn’t leave her anywhere.”

Paige scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares him down. “Then why was she out there, alone? She looked like she’d been crying.”

Beau rolls his eyes, but there’s something uneasy in the way he shifts on his feet, something that makes Paige’s stomach twist. “I don’t know, Paige. Maybe she was crying because she’s a fucking mess lately.”

Paige’s eyes flash with anger. “She’s a mess? You’re her boyfriend. Aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, give a shit?”

Beau’s lips curl into a sneer. “You don’t know anything about our relationship, so maybe you should keep your nose out of it.”

Paige takes a step closer, her voice lowering as she looks down on him ever so slightly—having those couple inches on him. “I know enough to know something’s wrong with her. She’s not herself, and you’re just standing here acting like you don’t care.”

Beau’s face hardens, and for a second, Paige thinks he might actually shove her away. They’ve had a physical fight before—what’s another one? But instead, he takes a step back, exhaling sharply as he glares at her. “You think this is my fault? You think I’m the one who’s making her act like this? You have no idea what she’s like, Bueckers. You only ever saw the good parts of her.”

Paige’s heart skips a beat, but she doesn’t flinch. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” she reports.

Beau huffs out a humorless laugh, his gaze flicking to the bathroom door as it remains stubbornly closed. “It means that she’s been a bitch lately, okay? Just like I said before. Moody as hell. I’m not her fuckin’ babysitter, like, Jesus Christ.”

Paige feels her hands clench into fists at her sides. “So you’re just going to leave her to deal with whatever’s going on by herself? Real classy, Hudson.”

Before Beau can respond, the bathroom door swings open, and a couple stumbles out, laughing drunkenly and clinging to each other. Paige shoots them a disgusted look—God only knows what they had been doing in there. Beau takes advantage of the distraction, slipping past her and heading straight for the open bathroom.

Before he disappears inside, he shoots Paige one last glance, his expression dark and full of resentment. “Stay out of it, Paige.”

The door slams shut behind him, leaving Paige standing in the hallway, her heart racing with anger and confusion. She leans against the wall, lifting Thaliah’s vape to her lips and taking another long drag, the vapor filling her lungs as she tries to calm herself down.

Stay out of it? He’s fucking stupid if he thinks that’ll stop her from doing anything.

She exhales slowly, her mind still spinning with everything that just happened. Beau’s words leave a bitter taste in her mouth, but more than that, they leave her with an even deeper sense of worry for Dani. There’s something wrong, and Beau either doesn’t know how to handle it or simply doesn’t care enough to try.

Paige closes her eyes for a moment, leaning her head back against the wall as the sound of the party buzzes around her. Halloween is Dani’s favorite holiday. Dani’s always, always loved it, always got excited about dressing up, about watching horror movies and going to parties with their friends. She and Paige have done coordinating costumes every year since forever. But this year? Dani’s sitting at home, probably miserable by the sound of things, and Paige wants to help. To do anything to help.

She takes another drag, and thinks.

DANI LAYS on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the silence in the room pressing down on her. Halloween has always been her favorite day of the year, the one she looks forward to the most. But tonight, it feels hollow. She glances around her bedroom—dimly lit, the shadows from her string lights casting a soft glow on the walls. It’s quiet, too quiet, and that’s the problem. Her friends are all probably at a party somewhere, dressed up in ridiculous costumes, laughing, drinking, having the time of their lives.

But she isn’t there. Not with Beau and Serena and everyone else she was meant to go out with tonight.

And certainly not with Paige and Thaliah and Jalen, who she’s spent every Halloween with for years.

The thought stings like an open wound. Halloween’s always been something she and Paige share—whether it was sneaking candy at sleepovers when they were younger or staying up late to watch horror movies that terrified them both, or—more recently—attending the dumbest parties and getting shit-faced. But this year, Dani’s alone, cut off from everything and everyone that once made her feel like herself.

She lets out a long sigh, sitting up in bed. She decides to be masochistic, and pulls one of her old scrapbooks from her the drawer in her bedside table. This is so stupid, she thought, thumbing through the pages. She hasn’t added to it in months, not since before everything changed. Not since her dad sent her to that place. She flips through the pages, her eyes scanning the scrawled handwriting, the cut photos, the scattered tape, reliving bits and pieces of her old life—laughing with Thaliah, playing (and losing) basketball with Jalen, sneaking out with Paige, pretending nothing could ever come between them.

Before camp. Before everything got fucked up.

Her heart clenches as she turns to an old picture tucked between the pages. It’s the two of them—her and Paige. Taken last Halloween, in matching costumes they’d thrown together at the last minute. Dani smiles faintly at the memory, the way Paige had made her laugh so hard that night she thought she’d never catch her breath. It had been one of the best nights of her life, but now it feels like a lifetime ago, like it belongs to a different version of her—a version of Dani that no longer exists.

Dani’s throat tightens as the memories overwhelmed her. She drops the scrapbook on the bed and covers her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling. I still love her. The realization hits her like a ton of bricks, the words echoing in her mind over and over. She loves Paige. She always has. But it feels so impossible now, so wrong, so tainted. After everything that’s happened, after the months apart, after the cold distance between them, after everything that’s been cemented into Dani’s head, how can they ever get back to what they used to be?

Tears blur Dani’s vision as she buries her face in her hands, her body shaking with quiet sobs. She wants to be the girl she used to be—the carefree, happy, whole version of herself that hadn’t been shattered by her father’s cruelty, by the camp, by the guilt that now consumes her every waking thought. She wants to go back to the way things were before her mind became warped and twisted by everything she‘a been forced to believe.

But she can’t. She doesn’t know how.

She cries until her chest aches, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She feels like she’s drowning, and there’s no one there to pull her out of the deep end. She’s lost so much—her friends, her sense of self, her relationship with Paige. Who is she now? She doesn’t even know anymore.

Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the empty house, pulling Dani out of her thoughts. She wipes at her tear-streaked face, frowning as she glances at the clock on her nightstand. It’s way too late for trick-or-treaters, and no one else os home. Her dad is out for the night, and the house has been dead quiet for hours.

Confused, Dani gets up from her bed, pulling on her hoodie as she makes her way downstairs. The doorbell rings again just as she reaches the bottom of the staircase, and she hesitates for a moment before opening the door.

The porch is empty.

Dani blinks, her heart racing as she stepped outside and glances around. There was no one in sight—just the dark, empty street in front of her house. She thinks maybe it’s just some stupid Halloween prank until she looks down. There’s a small basket sitting on the porch, filled with Twix and Sour Patch Kids and Snickers—all of her favorite candies. Her breath catches in her throat as she crouches down, her fingers trembling as she picks it up.

Sitting on top of the candy is a folded note.

Dani’s heart pounds in her chest as she opens the note, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting:

Dan,

Please know that if you ever need to talk to anyone, I am always here for you. I hope this basket makes your Halloween a little better.

P <3

Dani’s vision blurs with tears again, but this time, they aren’t necessarily tears of sadness. They’re something else—something warmer, softer. Paige left this for her. Paige went out of her way to make sure Dani wasn’t completely alone tonight.

She clutches the note to her chest, her heart aching in a way that feels both painful and comforting all at once. Paige has always been there for her, even now, even when everything is so broken, so different. Dani stands on the porch for a long moment, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she stares down at the basket.

She lets herself be a little optimistic. She thinks that maybe not everything is lost.

[aurumalatus]

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝟏

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

genre/warnings. pixelprincess!au (princess!reader x knight!kinich), reposted for formatting lol

summary. a series of random headcanons from the universe! part 1 of many because i have lots of thoughts about these two

author's note. feel free to come scream about some more headcanons with me <3 enjoy!

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

kinich and the princess have known about each other for a long time, but it’s only recently that they’ve really talked a lot and become close (since kinich became your guard)

kinich is a bit more open in this universe because although he grew up an orphan, he was recruited into the guard earlier and taken care of by his fellow trainees and the castle staff. he’s still pretty serious and deadpan at his core but he has a bit of silly in him too 

the maids especially used to dote on him a lot. they would coo about how beautiful his eyes are and sneak him cakes and sweets from the kitchen

kinich and the princess actually had one key interaction when they were children that she doesn’t remember

the princess came down with a bad illness and had to stay in her room for about a week. kinich was assigned guard right outside her room, but she never saw him. still, they used to talk a lot during that week through her door, and she never quite figured out who her temporary friend was.

princess used to be *very* spoiled and she knows this. kinich is one of the only people who knocks her down a peg, and he also taught her how to do a lot of practical things (i.e. cleaning, cooking, weaving) 

kinich takes his shirt off by grabbing the back of his collar and pulling it over his head (idk if i’m describing this well, but the image in my head is INSANE). 

once they actually get together, kinich is the type to kiss the princess’s tears away when she cries (i’m going to scream)

kinich secretly has always known he loved the princess in some capacity, maybe since the day he was inducted as her guard (he looked up into her eyes, knelt before her, and felt something burst in his chest). he doesn’t feel like he deserves her love in return and feels so committed to his duty that he won’t do anything about it.

kinich isn’t afraid of dying, but he’s afraid of leaving the princess alone. it’s the reason why he insists on teaching her so many practical things like fighting—he doesn’t trust anyone else to protect her like he can.

there’s a yearly tournament among the guards (and any citizens that want to enter) that is held to win the royals’ favor. kinich is required to participate due to his position, but he tries a lot harder than he lets on—something about letting another guard win kind of irritates him. he wins your ribbon as a prize, a sign of your personal favor, and keeps it on him at all times. he claims it’s just to prove that you owe him.

kinich is a TERROR in the capital marketplace. sellers love him and hate him—he’s fair, but he barters like HELL. you, on the other hand, are any easy target. you will pay pretty much any price they name, and this irritates kinich greatly.

kinich is in charge of training newer recruits to the guard, and older members will warn them not to mention the princess in front of him. last time someone said something disrespectful about her, kinich had them running laps until the sun came up.

most mornings, kinich trains at sunrise. the princess will come out to join him sometimes, either to just lay down in the grass and talk, or to bring out a picnic

many princesses from other nations are attracted to kinich, but he does not return the sentiment—whenever one tries to talk to him, he acts extremely dry and boring on purpose until they lose interest.

kinich has a lot of piercings, but they're not always optimal to fight in—on days when he expects a battle, he wears a pair of studs that the princess gifted him

the castle maids have a running bet on how long it will take you and kinich to get married. sometimes they try to push it along by telling kinich you're looking for him when you aren't, just to pull the two of you together. the pot is over one million Mora, and at some point, the queen joins as well.

[fatkish]

The Hashira and their Children

——————————————————————————

(Gyomei is introducing his chubby newborn baby to the other Hashira)

Gyomei: This is Yusuke. Y/n just gave birth to him a few weeks ago.

Mitsuri: aww! He’s so cute!

Shinobu: he looks just like you

Gyomei: would you guys like to hold him?

(After everyone but Sanemi has held the baby)

Gyomei: Shinazugawa, would you like to hold Yusuke?

Sanemi: *holding Yusuke* you look like a lump of mochi

Baby Yusuke: *face contorts and he starts to cry*

Mitsuri: Sanemi, how could you? You made him cry

Tengen: nice going Sanemi

Sanemi: *grumbling as he hands Yusuke to Gyomei* I didn’t mean to make him cry

——————————————————————————

(Kyojuro and Y/n are trying to take a family picture but their 3 year old won’t stop crying)

Y/n: what are we going to do, they won’t stop crying?

Kyojuro: Just give them a box of raisins

Y/n: Seriously?

Kyojuro: *pulls out box of raisins and hands it to his child* there see

Three year old: *immediately stops crying and is waving the raisins around*

Y/n: I swear they get that from you

——————————————————————————

(Sanemi was left at home to look after his 4 year old and 1 year old alone. He was watching them but took a small nap. He wakes up to find his oldest has drawn all over his 1 year old in marker)

Sanemi: what did you do to your brother?

Four year old: *holding the marker* wasn’t me

1 year old: *laughing*

Sanemi: *mumbles to himself* help me clean your brother up now

——————————————————————————

(Conversation between Kyojuro, Sanemi and Tengen)

Tengen: I’m pretty sure my neighbor thinks I’m a terrible father

Sanemi: just ignore them

Kyojuro: you’re not a terrible father, what makes you say that?

Tengen: they saw me chasing my naked three year old twins around the front lawn. Again

Kyojuro: why were you chasing them

Sanemi: wait, what do you mean again

Tengen: they finished taking their bathes but refused to put clothes on

Tengen: then they unlocked the front door and began running around. As soon as I caught one, I’d start chasing the other, but the one in my hands would slip out as soon as I caught the other one. My neighbors saw the whole thing

——————————————————————————

Y/n: *walks into the bathroom where their five year old son is* oh my god! What did you do

Son: *smiles and looks at their mom*

Sanemi: *comes running in* what’s wrong? What happened?

Y/n: take a look at your son, notice anything missing

Sanemi: *stares for a minute* what happened to your eyebrows?

Son: I gets rid of them. Now daddy and I match

Y/n: *turns away snickering*

Sanemi: OI!

——————————————————————————

Kyojuro: *is asleep*

3 year old: Daddy wake up

Kyojuro: *continues to sleep*

3 year old: *grabs TV remote and proceeds to smack Kyojuro with it* Daddy up!

Kyojuro: ow! I’m up

——————————————————————————

(Giyuu, y/n and their 5 year old are in their backyard)

Y/n: and just what do you think you’re doing?

5 year old: *holding a giant Japanese salamander like it’s a stuffed animal* I found him, can we keep him?

Y/n: *looks at the salamander that’s as big as their child* where did you even find that

5 year old: in the river… so… can we keep him?

Y/n: *flabbergasted* where do you expect to put him?

5 year old: in the pond with the fish

Y/n: I’m sorry but that thing will eat the fish

Y/n: *looks at Giyuu* you want to say anything?

Giyuu: …. We could build a second pond for him

Y/n: *throws hands in the air* seriously

Giyuu: what’s his name?

5 year old: Mr. Flabbs

——————————————————————————

Y/n: honey, do you know where our daughter is?

Gyomei: I believe she is in the kitchen….

Y/n: *after walking into the kitchen* oh my god no! Spit that out!

3 year old: *runs out of the kitchen*

Y/n: Gyomei catch her!

Gyomei: *catches daughter and holds her up*

Y/n: spit that out right now!

3 year old: *spits out cockroach into Gyomei’s hand*

Gyomei: please tell me this isn’t what I think it is

Y/n: I wish I could

——————————————————————————

(Y/n, Sanemi and their 3 year old are at an appliance store)

Y/n: *looking at washing machines with Sanemi* what do you think of this…. Where’s our child?

Sanemi: they were right here

Y/n: *look’s around and is mortified* oh please no

Sanemi: what?

Three year old: *is sitting on one of the display toilets with their pants down singing while grunting*

Y/n: stay here while I get the wet wipes

Sanemi: *covers his face in shame*

Store attendant: *trying so hard not to laugh*

——————————————————————————

(Obanai, Mitsuri and y/n are giving their 2 and 3 year olds a bath in the tub)

Obanai: *leaves the bathroom to grab something real quick*

Y/n: how are the kids?

Obanai: just got them into the bath

Mitsuri: *getting the kid’s pajamas ready* they are just so cute

3 year old: *shouting* boat! A boat!

Y/n: did you put toys in the tub?

Obanai: no, we don’t even have any boat toys

Mitsuri: then what is…

Obanai, y/n and Mitsuri: *runs into the bathroom*

(They walk into the bathroom to see their 2 and 3 year olds in the tub with a turd floating around)

3 year old: look a boat!

Mitsuri: *covers her face*

Y/n: *scrambles to quickly remove the kids from the tub*

Obanai: *disgusted as he empties the tub and removes the turd* I’ll run another bath

Y/n: *looks to Mitsuri* still think they’re cute?

——————————————————————————

[suhkusa]

It’s dark outside when you wake up from your nap. You feel uncomfortable and weird in your day time clothes, so you slide out of your bed and quickly change. The time spent on your bed is short when you finally check your phone. 

Your eyes widen when you read Osamu’s texts. You quickly type out a response on the lines of “sure,” before you’re sliding on your slippers and heading outside. As you close your door, you can hear the neighbor’s door swing open. 

You can see his figure in the darkness, and you know he can see you as well. The two of you meet on the sidewalk that connects the walkways of your guys’ house.

“Hey, Y/N,” he sounds a bit tense, but it’s the same old Osamu if you had to guess.

“Hey,” you follow him in taking a seat on the curb. A good amount of distance between the two of you, but just enough where you could still make out his facial features in the dead of the night.

“How have you been?” Osamu starts the conversation. He’s staring off into the distance.

“I’ve been good, just finished up finals. You?” 

“Same here, I suppose. And your friends?” 

Your head tilts in thought, “They’re good as well,”

There’s a moment of silence before a question that has been poking at your mind finally works its way out. 

“How come you’re back home? Isn’t there practice for the new season?” 

You can see his eyebrows raise from your peripheral vision. Did you say something wrong?

“Oh, well,” his legs bend so he can hold his knees a bit closer, “I quit the team a while ago,” 

Your eyes finally widen, “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Nono, it’s all good. A lot of people are shocked when I tell them, too,”

“How did Atsumu react?”

The man beside you laughs a bit to himself, “As bad as you’d expect. It was around the time that… you know, happened so he had a lot of emotions pent up already,”

“I see,” is all you’re able to manage. 

You know. None of you ever seem to know what to call that situation. A few moments pass by as the two of you bask in quietness. 

“Do you hate me?” his question catches you extremely off guard. 

“What? No- I could never, ‘Samu,” your eyes are full of worry when you finally look his way. “I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like that. I care so much for you, even ‘Tsumu. I know I used to scold and fight with you a lot, but it’s because I really cared. You were my bestest friend at one point and it hurt to see you sabotaging your heart like that,”

“I-” Osamu runs a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry, too. For everything. I was childish and I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings for you. Atsumu came up with the idea. The truce, I mean. I just went with it, because on the off chance that you chose him, it meant he wouldn’t be able to have you,” but it happened anyways, you know he wants to say.

“I guess since it’s already out in the open, I can just say it. But I’ve liked you. I still like you. I’m sorry it’s stupid-”

You swiftly cut him off before he can continue, “It’s not stupid, like, at all. I liked you in our third year. I.. I was going to tell you but then you suddenly became distant, so the timing felt bad,”

Osamu sighs before tucking his face into his hands. “Fuck,” you hear him mutter under his breath.

“Is it really too late?” 

If you were caught off guard earlier, you didn’t know what to call this gut-wrenching feeling now. You already know the answer, but you’re scared. You feel like you’ve already screwed up so much, that any little thing you do next will just end in pieces.

“It’s not,”

You see him peek up at you from where he was looking down, urging you to continue. 

“I just… Just give me time, alright?”

All he does is nod in response.

And for once in your life, it feels the universe is finally reassuring you that it’ll be okay. 

BOTH AIN’T SH!T ( OSAMU VER.) — TIME

PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

NOTES.

osamu was falling asleep when y/n texted back but he jumped up when he heard the notif

his phone’s volume button is broken from throwing it after he texted

atsumu cried when he was fighting with osamu because too much was happening at the time (part of him felt guilty too)

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.