#I happened to talk about this with a friend in passing

[lynbels]

25 jungwon pls pls pls

looks deceive - yjw (m)

#25: The quiet nerd turns out to be anything but shy, using your body like it’s his.

pairing: jungwon x reader - prompt req list

synopsis: You spent months teasing Jungwon for being the quiet nerd in class—until one night he finally snapped, and you learned exactly how wrong you were about him. ✉️ 3782wc

‼️tw: slight bullying, dubcon vibes, dominance, manhandling, degradation (light), oral (m receiving), rough sex, creampie, praise, possessiveness, spanking, slight hair pulling, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies guys)

💌: no because I totally imagine this happening good jungwon by day evil jungwon by night 😈

You weren’t a mean girl, not really. Just…a little playful. Maybe a little too playful when it came to the nerdy boy who sat in the back of your Chemistry class.

Yang Jungwon.

Blonde hair always perfectly parted, button-down shirts always ironed stiff, and those stupid little glasses perched on the bridge of his nose—he was practically begging for it. He didn’t even talk back when you and your friends joked about him. He just sat there, quietly scribbling formulas with that pretty hand of his, pretending not to hear the way you laughed.

“You think he’s a robot or something?” your friend Hana giggled one afternoon, chin propped on her hand as she watched Jungwon flip through his notes. “Bet he’s never even held a girl’s hand.”

You snickered behind your palm. “Held? I bet he’d pass out if a girl even looked at him for too long.”

It wasn’t personal. It was harmless, you told yourself. Jungwon was just…so easy to tease. Always so quiet, so polite, so desperately nerdy. He wore khaki pants for god’s sake. Khakis. In high school.

Sometimes you’d catch him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking—soft, wide-eyed stares, like he couldn’t believe you were real. It only made it funnier. You’d smile sweetly at him on purpose, wave too enthusiastically, lean a little too close when asking him a question during group projects, just to watch his face flush scarlet and his glasses fog up.

The poor boy was so easy to break.

And you weren’t the only one who noticed. Your whole group kind of adopted it as a game at this point: how fast could you fluster Jungwon? How pink could you get his cheeks? How many stuttered responses could you collect like trophies?

“He’s like…a pet,” your other friend Minji whispered one time after a pop quiz. You had just tapped Jungwon’s shoulder and thanked him (loudly) for “helping you study”—which he hadn’t—and the boy had practically short-circuited on the spot. “Like a little lost puppy.”

You’d laughed then, flipping your hair over your shoulder, feeling every bit the queen bee you were supposed to be. Jungwon was safe. Harmless. He wasn’t like the cocky jocks or the bad boys you flirted with sometimes—he was soft, easy to control, easy to tease.

Or at least…that’s what you thought.

Until one afternoon, everything changed.

You were sitting at your desk, lazily twirling a pen between your fingers, when you felt a shadow fall across your table. You looked up, blinking.

It was Jungwon.

He stood stiffly in front of you, clutching a neatly organized folder to his chest like a shield. His blonde hair was slightly messy today, a few strands falling across his forehead. His glasses slipped down his nose a little, and he pushed them up nervously with one finger.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Lost, Jungwon?”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something—but then stopped, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow. His hands fidgeted against the folder, knuckles white from how tightly he gripped it. You could see the tips of his ears turning red.

Cute.

“I, uh…” He coughed lightly, adjusting his glasses again. “I…thought you might need help. For the chemistry assignment. Since…you asked…before.”

You blinked.

You hadn’t actually asked him for help—you’d teased him about it, sure, but it was all in good fun. You were popular, and smart enough to get by without tutoring from the class nerd. But now, standing there in front of you, Jungwon looked so serious. So determined, despite how nervous he clearly was.

You could feel Minji and Hana watching from across the room, barely containing their laughter. You gave them a quick glance—watch this—before turning back to Jungwon with your most dazzling smile.

“That’s sweet, Jungwon,” you said, voice dripping honey. “You’re worried about me?”

He flushed deeper, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I just…you seemed like you might…um…need help.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a laugh. God, he was so easy.

Leaning forward on your elbows, you rested your chin in your hand and looked up at him through your lashes. “Are you offering to be my private tutor?”

His lips parted slightly, like the words got stuck in his throat. His glasses fogged a little again. “I—uh—I guess. If you want.”You smiled wider, loving the way his voice shook.

“Aw,” you cooed mockingly, loud enough for your friends to hear. “You’re so sweet, Jungwon. Are you always this nice to girls who bully you?”

Behind you, Hana snickered into her hand.

For a moment, Jungwon didn’t say anything. He just stood there, folder clutched tight to his chest, face burning. His eyes flickered to your mouth for a second—so quick you almost missed it—and then dropped to the floor again.

You tilted your head, smirking. So predictable.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” you added, voice low enough that only he could hear it. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you buy me coffee after tutoring too.”

He said nothing. Just nodded stiffly, turned on his heel, and practically fled to the other side of the room.

You and your friends broke into giggles immediately.

“Poor thing’s gonna have a heart attack,” Minji whispered, wiping a tear from her eye. “Y/N, you’re evil.”

You smiled lazily, twirling your pen again. It was just harmless fun. Jungwon would never do anything about it. He was too shy, too sweet.

He’d stay quiet. Like he always did.

…Right?

You didn’t think about it much when you got the text later that day.

[unknown number]: you forgot your textbook. rm 3b.

[unknown number]: i can bring it if u want.

You stared at the messages, confused for a second—until you realized it had to be Jungwon. Of course it was. Who else would be that polite about a stupid forgotten book?

You texted back a half-hearted ok, already smirking to yourself. God, he’s desperate, you thought. He was really going out of his way for you now. It was almost pathetic.

You made your way to Room 3B after the last bell, the hallway practically deserted. Most people had already left for the day, leaving only the low hum of distant footsteps and the occasional squeak of sneakers on tile.

When you pushed open the door, the room was dim, the late afternoon sun spilling in long, golden streaks across the floor.

And there he was.

Jungwon stood by your desk, your chemistry textbook in hand, head bowed slightly. His blonde hair caught the light, making it look almost soft around the edges. He wasn’t wearing his blazer anymore—just the white button-up, the sleeves pushed up a little—and it made him look…different. More casual. More real.

You stepped inside lazily, the door clicking shut behind you.

“Wow,” you teased lightly, crossing your arms. “You really take your job as my tutor seriously, huh?”

He didn’t laugh.

Didn’t even smile.

He just looked up at you—and for the first time, you noticed something different in his eyes. Something that made your skin prickle a little.

He wasn’t nervous.

Not anymore.

“You forgot this,” he said simply, voice low and even.

You walked closer, letting your bag slide off your shoulder onto a chair. “Thanks, Professor Jungwon,” you joked, reaching for the book.

But instead of handing it to you, he held onto it—just out of reach.

You frowned. “What are you doing?”

For a second, he just looked at you, head tilted slightly like he was studying something.

Then he smiled.

Not the shy, awkward smile you were used to.

No, this one was slower. Lazier. A smile that knew things. Dangerous things.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he said, voice still light but edged with something sharper underneath. “Messing with me. Laughing at me with your little friends.”

You blinked, heart skipping once, confused. This wasn’t…this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“I mean…” you said slowly, trying to summon that same teasing tone. “Maybe a little?”

Jungwon stepped closer.

You instinctively backed up—only to feel the desk press against the backs of your thighs.

You opened your mouth to say something else—to crack another joke, maybe, to turn the moment back into something safe—but before you could, he set the textbook down carefully on the desk beside you.

And caged you in with both hands, palms flat against the wood.

You stared up at him, breath caught.

His eyes, usually so soft, were burning now. Sharp and focused, like he was seeing right through you. His body was so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, suffocating, dizzying.

“You think you can just say whatever you want to me,” he said softly, so close you could feel his breath fan across your lips. “Laugh at me. Flirt with me. Make me look like a fool.”

You swallowed hard, every nerve in your body standing on end.

“I—It was just a joke,” you said quickly, but your voice wavered.

Another slow, dangerous smile.

“Yeah?” he murmured. “Well, here’s the thing, Y/N.”

He leaned down, mouth brushing your ear.

“I’m done being the joke.”

You froze, your whole body tensing, but Jungwon didn’t give you any time to think.

One hand slid from the desk to your waist, fingers digging in just hard enough to make you gasp. He pressed his body closer, chest against yours, so you could feel just how much bigger and stronger he really was.

“You’re so loud usually,” he whispered, voice smooth and dark against your ear. “Where’s all that attitude now, huh?”

You squirmed, but it only made him grip you tighter, pinning your hips against the desk.

“You thought you were in control,” he murmured, dragging the tip of his nose down the side of your throat, inhaling like he could smell your fear. “Laughing with your friends. Acting like you were better than me.”

You whimpered—quiet and unintentional—and he chuckled low in his chest.

“Not so funny now, is it?”

Slowly, torturously slow, he trailed his hand up your side, brushing under the hem of your shirt, fingertips feather-light against your bare skin. Your breath hitched, and he smiled against your neck.

“You like this,” he said quietly, almost like he was marveling at the realization. “You like when I’m mean to you.”

You shook your head automatically, but Jungwon just laughed again, dark and soft.

“Liar.”

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes were molten now, dark and hungry, and you shivered under the weight of his stare.

“I should make you beg,” he whispered, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. “Make you apologize for being such a little brat.”

Your lips parted, desperate to say something—anything—but no words came out.

“You gonna be good for me now?” he asked, almost gently, dragging his thumb slowly across your bottom lip. “Or do I have to teach you a lesson?

You whimpered again, nodding weakly.

His smile widened, all sharp teeth and dangerous promise.

“Good girl.”

Without warning, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you up onto the desk, spreading your legs with his knees. The sudden movement made you squeak, grabbing onto his shoulders for balance, but he didn’t let you go—he loomed over you, hands gripping your waist possessively, like he owned you.

“Show me,” Jungwon said, voice so soft it barely made a sound. “Get on your knees.”

You blinked up at him, heart racing, and whispered back without thinking, “W-What?”

He just stared down at you, unblinking, fingers tightening at your waist like a warning.

“On your knees,” he repeated, firmer now, and when you hesitated for half a second longer, he grabbed your chin and guided you down slowly, almost gentle, until your knees hit the floor with a quiet thud against the carpet.

“Jungwon…” you whispered again, voice small, but he didn’t budge.

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Pretty,” he murmured. “So pretty when you’re quiet.”

You bit your lip, cheeks burning, and breathed out shakily, “I-I don’t know what you want me to do…”

A small, dangerous smile played on his lips. “You’ll figure it out.”

With slow, deliberate movements, he unbuckled his belt, the soft clink making your stomach twist in anticipation. You couldn’t look away—couldn’t even think—your mouth already watering slightly as he tugged his jeans down just enough, freeing his cock, hard and thick and leaking at the tip.

You whimpered, staring, and your thighs instinctively pressed together.

“You want it, don’t you?” he whispered, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

You nodded frantically, voice barely a breath. “Y-Yeah… I want it.”

“Then open up,” he ordered, and his voice was so calm it made your whole body shudder.

You parted your lips obediently, heart thundering, and he slid the tip against your tongue, teasing you slowly, making you feel every inch.

“Good girl,” he praised in a low growl. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.”

You whimpered again, looking up at him through your lashes, desperate to make him proud, desperate for him to keep saying those things to you.

“You’re so good, Jungwon,” you whispered around him, voice muffled and needy.

A dark flush colored his cheeks at your praise, but he didn’t let up, sliding deeper with slow, shallow thrusts, one hand threading into your hair to hold you there.

“That’s it,” he murmured, hips rocking slowly. “Such a good little mouth… made for me.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes from the stretch, but you forced yourself to stay still, to let him use you like he wanted. You wanted it. You wanted him.

“You look so good like this,” he breathed. “Bet you never thought you’d end up on your knees for me, huh?”

You whined around him, the humiliation and heat rushing through your body too much to handle.

“Didn’t know you’d be so mean,” you managed to mumble out when he pulled back a little, your voice wrecked and breathless.

He chuckled lowly, thumb brushing away a tear that slid down your cheek.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, baby,” he whispered.

You nodded, so desperate, so wrecked already. “Please…” you whimpered. “Please, Jungwon… I want you…”

His jaw flexed, his control visibly snapping.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hips jerking forward as he pushed deeper into your mouth, making you choke slightly.

You pulled back with a gasp, panting, and he immediately stroked your hair gently, calming you.

“Shh. You’re doing so good, pretty girl,” he praised. “You’re perfect.”

You looked up at him, tears in your lashes, spit glistening on your lips.

“I want to be good for you,” you said, voice wobbling.

“You already are,” he whispered, dragging his cock slowly across your tongue again.

You shivered, feeling your whole body light up at his words.

He tightened his grip in your hair, sliding himself back into your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts, using you like he had every right to.

And you let him. Whimpering, obeying, looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

Because he owned you now. And you didn’t want it any other way.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Jungwon yanked you up from the floor, strong hands gripping your waist and shoving you back against the couch. His body pressed flush against yours, caging you in.

“You’re not done,” he muttered, voice low and dark in your ear. “I’m not done.”

You whimpered, nodding without even thinking, your thighs squeezing together at the way he looked at you — like he was starving and you were the only thing he could eat.

He grabbed your chin roughly, tilting your head up so you couldn’t look away from him. His eyes, usually so soft and sunny, were blown wide and black with hunger.

“Look at you,” he whispered, breath hot against your cheek. “Already fucked out and I haven’t even gotten started.”

You tried to say something—tried to beg—but he didn’t give you the chance. In one swift movement, he manhandled you onto the couch, forcing you onto your back, and tugged your panties down your legs without ceremony.

“Spread those legs for me, pretty,” he murmured, voice steady but ragged with want.

You did, shakily, heart pounding so hard you could barely breathe.

He tugged his jeans down just enough, cock hard and leaking, and lined himself up without warning. You felt the blunt, thick head of him pressing against your entrance, and your breath caught.

“You ready?” he rasped.

You nodded desperately, nails digging into the cushions.

“Use your words,” he ordered, tapping the inside of your thigh sharply.

“Please,” you gasped out. “Please, Jungwon, I want it—need it—”

That was all he needed.

He slammed into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt, and you screamed — high-pitched and choked, the stretch overwhelming. Your whole body arched off the couch at the sudden, merciless intrusion.

“Fuck, so tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth, holding himself still for a second, letting you feel every inch of him. “Feels too good. Gonna fuck you so stupid, baby.”

You sobbed, legs trembling around his hips, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.

He didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled out halfway and slammed back in hard enough to make the couch creak beneath you. Again. Again. Hard and deep and punishing, every thrust knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“You wanted to tease me?” he grunted, voice still soft and deadly in your ear. “Wanted to be a brat in front of your little friends?”

You nodded frantically, whimpering, barely coherent under the relentless pace.

“Bet you don’t feel so cocky now, huh?” he whispered, punctuating every word with another deep thrust.

You tried to answer but all that came out was a broken moan.

He chuckled low under his breath, slowing down just enough to drag himself out painfully slow before slamming back in to the hilt, making you cry out.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he licked a tear off your cheek and murmured, “Poor thing. Too much?”

You shook your head wildly, clinging to him.

He kept going until your whole body was trembling, until your nails carved angry red lines down his back, until you were sobbing his name like it was the only word you knew.

Finally, when your legs gave out completely and you sagged into the cushions, he slowed. His hands gentled, cradling you.

Wordlessly, he pulled you into his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. His cock still heavy and hard between your legs, pressed against your soaked folds.

He cupped your face in both hands, smoothing your hair back, and kissed you so softly it almost hurt. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for him.

“You still want it?” he whispered against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathed, voice wrecked and trembling. “Please.”

He guided you down onto him slowly this time, letting you feel every thick inch stretch you open again.

You gasped, clinging to his shoulders, tears brimming in your lashes again from the slow, aching fullness.

“That’s it,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Take all of it. You’re doing so good.”

He rocked you on his cock gently, holding you close, whispering filthy things in your ear the whole time.

“Feel how deep I am, baby? You were made for this… made for me to fuck you like this.”

You whimpered, biting his shoulder to muffle your sobs of pleasure as he guided your hips, slow and deep and overwhelming.

“Never teasing me again,” he whispered, smiling against your hair. “Not unless you want this.”

You nodded desperately, grinding down against him, so full you could barely think.

“You’re mine to fuck,” he murmured, dragging his cock against that sensitive spot inside you, making you jolt in his lap. “Mine to ruin.”

You came apart in his arms, sobbing his name into his shoulder, shaking and gasping. He held you through it, never stopping, whispering praise into your ear until you completely fell apart.

And when he finally followed, spilling deep inside you with a low groan, he didn’t move away.

He just held you, rocking you gently in his lap, brushing kisses across your temple, your jaw, your mouth.

Like he hadn’t just broken you completely.

Like he was never gonna let you go.

The next morning, you could still feel it — a dull, delicious ache between your thighs with every step you took. Your body was sore, your neck littered with faint bruises you tried—and failed—to cover with makeup, and your heart raced every time you even thought about Jungwon.

Which was a problem. Because you were sitting across from him in class, and he kept sneaking little glances at you from behind his glasses, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips whenever your eyes met.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, clenching your thighs together under the desk, cheeks burning.

“What’s up with you?” one of your friends whispered, elbowing you in the side during lecture.

“Huh? N-nothing,” you stammered, staring down at your notes so hard the lines blurred together.

Another girl leaned over. “Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?”

“I don’t,” you protested weakly, adjusting your jacket to hide the faint purple marks blooming down your throat.

They weren’t convinced.

“You’re acting weird,” the first girl said, wrinkling her nose. “Like…all shy and jumpy. Did something happen?”

“No,” you said too quickly, glancing instinctively at Jungwon.

You caught him looking again — but this time, he didn’t look away. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, slow and deliberate, and your stomach flipped.

Oh god.

Your friends caught that look.

They turned, following your gaze, and their jaws dropped.

“Wait. No freaking way,” one of them whispered, half-laughing. “You’re into him?!”

“I—” You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

The other girl snorted. “Since when do you like nerds?”

You shrank into your seat, wishing the floor would swallow you whole. Especially when Jungwon leaned back in his chair casually, spreading his thighs just a little wider under the desk — like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering in your throat.

“Bet he’s not that nerdy when he’s alone with her,” one of your friends joked under her breath, laughing.

Your face flamed.

And across the room, Jungwon smiled lazily at you, like a wolf who knew his prey wasn’t going anywhere.

prompt request list

[bosbas]

Chapter 8: if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!daphne's best friend!reader WC: 1.6k

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love, the usual pining of courseeee

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

September 24, 1812 - It had been two and a half months since Anthony had found out the truth about your intentions with him, and he considered himself to have largely overcome the summer’s chaotic romance. Fake romance, he reminded himself.

It wasn’t something he thought about excessively. Perhaps he did think about it every day, and it would be safe to assume that he thought about you every passing hour, but he wouldn’t say he thought about you every minute of every day. And that was progress, wasn’t it?

At least he had forgiven Daphne, and the siblings had been able to sort out their differences. Though Anthony truly wanted his sister to find a husband she liked in due time, it certainly didn’t hurt that she had ended the summer just as unattached and hopeless as him.

“I heard Lady Mitchell got engaged last night,” commented Daphne, who happened to be sitting next to Anthony. 

“Did she? To that Roberts fellow?” hummed Violet. “He’s a good man, she’ll certainly be happy she’s got that sorted.”

“A good man who made her wait six weeks until he proposed,” scoffed Daphne, unimpressed by her friend’s lengthy courtship, especially with how smitten she seemed to be. “Practically unheard of to wait that long this late in the season.”

“Have any of your other friends gotten engaged then?” asked Anthony automatically, the words slipping carelessly out of his mouth. 

He cringed slightly, looking up from the morning paper to see his sister shooting him an amused glance. 

“She hasn’t, no” Daphne responded, her voice soft, akin to when she talked to one of their horses after a tough ride. 

Immediately, Anthony felt his shoulders release some tension he didn’t even know was there. 

“Shame,” he said, making sure to keep his voice light in a desperate attempt to convince his family of his nonchalance.

A beat of silence prompted Anthony to look up and catch the tail end of a knowing look between Daphne and Violet. 

“It is!” he insisted, trying to convince himself at the very least. “I hope she’s found someone who cares about her.”

“She had,” cut in his sister. 

Daphne might be Anthony's sister, but was still your best friend, after all. And she was the only one who saw just how miserable both of you were since you had stopped whatever it was you had with Anthony and refused to step foot in the Bridgerton home.

Anthony scoffed, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. “I can’t have this conversation again.”

“Very well, then,” pressed Daphne. “There’s a remarkably easy solution to that problem.”

This earned an irritated groan from Anthony, who was rather tired of his sister trying to convince him to declare his love to you in some grand and extravagant way like you wouldn’t just laugh in his face. 

“I’ve told you, it’s for the best, Daphne. And that’s the end of the discussion. She’s not what I’m looking for in a wife anyway,” Anthony said through gritted teeth. 

“And why not?” asked Violet, scandalized by her son’s apparent disrespect of someone who was almost a daughter to her. “I know things might have ended on less-than-ideal terms between you but Y/N is still someone to be treated with respect and dignity.”

“It’s not that,” replied Anthony, already feeling a headache coming on. 

It’s because I love her, he thought. But of course, he couldn’t say that out loud. Not without having the rest of his day taken up by a long lecture from his mother on how fulfilling and special true love could be. 

He simply didn’t care. 

Not anymore, at least.

He’d had a taste of being completely head over heels for someone he intended on marrying. He'd had a chance to truly know someone, and consequently be completely in love with them. However, he rather preferred not having a flutter in his stomach– out of excitement or anxiety he didn’t care to find out –every time he thought of his future with you. 

Falling in love once had been enough. Anthony had done it. He’d experienced the love his parents had. And he wasn’t itching to experience it again. He could now just focus on finding someone adequate who fit his list of requirements for a Viscountess, which heavens knew you didn’t. 

“Well, whatever the reason is, you’ll have to get over it before Christmas,” sniffed Daphne, not in the mood to argue with her brooding brother. 

“Why Christmas?”

“Because Y/N is coming to spend Christmas with us in Kent, like she does every year,” responded Daphne in an obvious tone. The Are you thick? was left unsaid. 

Now Anthony felt the headache in full force. Of course, he’d forgotten. Well, at least he had a few months to prepare to face you again. 

---

“Are you quite sure there’s nothing we can do?” you said, exasperated.

Your carriage had broken down on your way home from the shops, and your father had taken the spare carriage for the day with no hints as to when he would return. 

“Afraid not, Miss,” said your driver, looking quite apologetic. “I can try to reach the Bridgertons, who don’t live too far from here.”

A sharp inhale. “That won’t be necessary,” you smiled weakly. You’d rather walk home than risk having to ask Anthony Bridgerton for help. 

Instead, you leaned against the lopsided carriage and put your head in your hands. A few hours alone with your thoughts wouldn’t be the worst thing, would it? Was it really too far to walk? Usually, it wouldn’t have been, but the sun was about to set and the chilly November air gave you pause. 

“Y/N? Is that you?” called the unmistakable voice of the oldest Bridgerton brother from atop his riding horse as he slowed down to get a good look. 

Speak of the devil, you cursed.

“Anthony,” you said, slightly taken aback by how handsome he was. 

You hadn’t seen him outside of the privacy of your imagination in a few months, and his hair was slightly longer than it had been over the summer. It suited him. Well, everything suited him. 

“Is something the matter with your carriage?” he asked, already hopping down and inspecting the vehicle, which lay in disrepair. 

“It’s quite alright,” you started, but your driver was too quick. 

“Just hit a hole in the road and had a bit of a hiccup,” he explained. “I’m afraid there’s not much I can do right now, we just have to wait for another carriage to come retrieve Lady Y/N.”

“Nonsense,” waved Anthony. “I can take her home right now if that’s alright.”

“That won’t be necessary,” you said, only to be spoken over once again.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Bridgerton. Especially since the sun is going down, it’d be best to get Lady Y/N inside.”

It seemed like you had no choice in the matter. Annoyed, you huffed and crossed your arms, but made your way over to Anthony anyway. 

“Can you help her on?” Anthony asked your driver, getting back on the horse and shuffling forward so you had enough space. 

Once you were safely atop the horse, Anthony grabbed your arms and put them around his waist. 

“Just don’t let go,” he warned you. “I know it’s not the most comfortable ride, but it’s the best I can do.”

“I- It’s fine,” you said, speaking softly lest your voice betrayed your true feelings. 

You rode the rest of the way in silence. A special kind of hurt bloomed in your chest as you passed the Bridgerton residence, which you once considered your true home over the house you were born in.

You found comfort in holding Anthony, even if only for a moment, and even if only out of necessity. It was surreal to be so close to him again, and you closed your eyes so you could memorize exactly how it felt to feel his heart beating and the rhythm of his chest rising and falling. 

You’d long convinced yourself not to think about what could have been, but it hadn’t made the feelings go away, and it was lovely to be in Anthony’s presence for a little while longer. 

Once you reached your house, Anthony slipped off his horse and held out his hand to help you off as well. 

As soon as you were stood on solid ground he retracted his hand, and you were left with only the ghost of his touch in your memory. 

The two of you stared at each other, and you saw an unreadable expression on Anthony’s face. There was an unmistakable longing, but also something else entirely you weren’t sure you had seen before. 

“Thank you,” you finally whispered, the words barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to do that.”

And it was true. Anthony had been a true gentleman, even in circumstances like these. Curse him for remaining the picture of grace after everything you'd done to him.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, his eyes flashing with some unknown emotion. 

“Anthony-” you started, not entirely sure where you were going with this but wanting to try anyway. 

But Anthony interrupted gruffly. “I said don’t mention it.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, not used to him being so short with you. You took in a breath, readying yourself for another attempt at something. Begging for his forgiveness, confessing you still loved him, anything at all, really. 

But before you could open your mouth he had already turned around, not sparing you a second glance as he mounted his horse and headed back, presumably to the Bridgerton house. 

A choked sob escaped your lips as you saw his figure disappear into the dusk. You supposed this was just how it would be from now on. At least until you moved on and found someone else, which seemed more and more unlikely as the weeks went by. 

—

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[mywritersmind]

TROUBLE - LN4 part three

part one - part two

original summary : Trouble comes in many forms, for Lando Norris, it comes in the shape of his teammates sister. A week at Oscars brings more temptation and impulse than any other start to a season.

summary : Another day passes with tension thick in the Australian home. Except now, there’s champagne and kissing and some guilt involved.

listen up : use of y/n! kissing! cut off smut. dirty jokes lol! guys i wrote it be proud of me!

words : 4488

⋆｡‧˚⋆

you

“Y/n.” Oscar stops me on my way to the bathroom, “We need to talk.”

“Right now?” I raise a brow, holding a towel and my clothes for the day, “I’m about to-”

“Y/n.” His tone makes me sigh but I stay in my spot, “You’re messing with Lando. I can tell.”

Oh… This is not what I expected. “Sorry?”

“I know you. Just- stay away from him, okay? This week is supposed to be relaxing and not distracting.”

I raise a brow, adding sas onto my words, “And I'm distracting?”

“That seems to be a theme with my friends.” He mumbles, crossing his arms over his white shirt.

I roll my eyes, “Don’t act like i’m the problem.”

“You’re not! I just don’t want anything to happen. Okay? I’m serious about this.” I can tell he is. I pop my hip and look back at my nervous brother.

“It’s not like I'm going to pounce on him, jeez. Cut me some slack, Oscar.”

This makes his features soften, “I’m sorry… I’m just worried.”

“That I'll corrupt your teammate?” I can’t help but tease.

His face goes back to serious, “Stay away from him, Y/n.”

I lift my hand to my forehead, saluting sarcastically, “Yes sir.”

He leaves me, now laughing to myself at his persistence and pure caution.

I take my time in the shower, the water squirting me right in the eye, making me huff and allowing me an extra long shower. I do my makeup in the bathroom while my wet hair drips down my bare back. I’m blasting music the whole time so I don’t hear the banging on the door until the song switches, “What!?” I yell over the music, about to open the door before I remember I'm only in a bra and underwear.

I’m pulling my shirt on as a voice responds to me, “Christ I thought you drowned or something-” I whip the door open, my shirt falling just above my thighs and staring at Lando. I get sudden dejavu from our first meeting and my lack of clothes then. “Sorry. I just need to do my hair.”

His bedhead is evident, his curls all over the place as he holds a small bathroom bag. I can’t help but laugh at a certain piece sticking straight up, “I can tell.”

He scoffs, “Okay little miss perfect. Not everyone can look hot falling asleep over their cereal.” I narrow my eyes at the memory of this morning.

“All I heard in that sentence was hot.” I stick my nose up, holding the door frame. “But I'm sure I look better now- or at least I will when I'm dressed.”

“Nah I like you like this.” He eyes my attire, or lack of it. I eye, putting my hand on my waist and ‘accidentally’ shift my shirt up when placing my hand on my waist.

I like the way he talks to me. I like the way he’s looking at me even more. I’m a loyal person, I'd say. But my priorities aren’t very hard to shift when an opportunity arises.

I can feel the shift now, Lando standing in front of me looking at me with his lip caught on his tooth and his head slightly tilted down.

I wonder then what he’d taste like. And then I shake my head and step back, “You know what- bathrooms all yours.” I step past him, my body brushing his as I retreat back to my room.

I shouldn’t do this. Oscar asked for me not to do this! I lay on my bed, shutting my eyes and hoping for some sense to be knocked into me.

⋆༺

Sense, even though I prayed for it, was not knocked into me. I wish he was knocked into me.

Everyone’s in the kitchen, talking about the day ahead as I switch on Taylor swift to play from the speaker. Lando is making a smoothie and when I go to pass him, he turns suddenly and knocks into me. It’s not like he threw me to the ground, I just had to step back and I was good on my feet again.

It’s what he does during that freaks me out. His hands find my waist for the smallest second as he mumbles a quick, “Sorry.” before getting out of the way.

I stop myself, blinking and staring out the window above the sink. I have to physically force myself to keep walking and place the speaker in the window, ignoring how every part of my body is now on fire.

I never really thought I had a thing for hands, and then I met Lando.

Sitting at the kitchen island next to Lily, I try to listen to our plans for the day but get distracted once again. He’s holding the blender in place and replying to someone but all I can do is stare at his hands gripping the-

“Y/n?” Lily pokes my arm, “Want to invite anyone over tonight? What about that guy you went on a date with last week?”

Oscar raises a brow, butting into our conversation, “Date?”

I frown at the mention, “Definitely not him. Unless you want his girlfriend to come along too.” Everyone makes an uncomfortable noise at this, “But I can ask some of my friends that are in town.”

Lily’s foot is being elevated on the chair next to her so Lando and Oscar are both standing on the other side of the table.

Until now, I'd completely forgotten that my mom was throwing a little party tonight. It’s mostly our friends and family, something small and an excuse to drink.

⋆༺

lando

I’m sitting in the back seat with Y/n. This isn’t exactly the circumstances I'd like to be back here with but it’s fun nonetheless.

Nicole is having a book club and forced us all out of the house. This is fine by me because I genuinely enjoy hanging out with this group.

“Oscar, turn here!” She’s unbuckled her seatbelt just to yell in Oscar’s ear over the middle console. This makes her butt almost directly in my face.

Y/n is wearing a cropped, worn top; sneakers, and jean shorts which are currently making her ass acquainted with my face. Her bathing suit ties hang on the sides of her waist and I look back out the window because I'm scared Lily will catch me looking.

She sits back in a huff, her brother not following her directions and shoving her seatbelt back into the latch. Her legs are outstretched still, taking up the middle and pressing her sneaker into the back of the passenger seat. She's smiling at me.

“What?” I ask, her smile only growing as she watches me.

She just shakes her head, leaning it against the glass, “Nothing.” I go to say something but am surprised when my words are ran out. I shut my mouth, smirking.

“That’s where I watched Y/n beat up a girl.” Oscar’s words makes me sit up, looking out the window to a very green park.

“Awh, Susie Anderson.” Y/n presses a hand to her heart, “She called me a bitch!” She argues when Lily laughs, “We were eight-“

“Hold on, Osc, you watched?” I laugh as Y/n nods enthusiastically at me.

“She had it covered!” He argues, “She practically sold me a ticket. And what was I going to do? Beat up a little girl?”

“I did have it covered, thank you!” She pulls the sunglasses off her head and onto her face, “What a cunt.”

“Y/n!” Lily laughs.

“She was! Tried to get with Oscar when we were fifteen too.”

“Hate her.” Lily reaches back, high-fiving Y/n swiftly.

We arrive at our destination a minute later, Y/n hopping out of the car with extra pep in her step. When I get out, I realize Lily is holding a basket. “Picnic time!” She grins at me, turning to her boyfriend who is quick to pull her into his side.

The place is beautiful. We’re over a beach, there’s hundreds of people spread out on grass enjoying the sunny day. Y/n comes into view, holding a bouquet of flowers, “Look what I just bought!” She points at a small flower cart up the hill before skipping down to Lily and Oscar like a literal ray of sunshine.

We sit on a blanket, eating food from a literal basket, as the sun beats down on us. I lay on my back, my arm rested across my stomach. Y/n and Lily are talking about what they’re going to wear to the race when Oscar nudges my arm, “What’re you wearing to the race?”

I laugh, sitting up and looking at the two who are talking animatedly. For some reason, this makes me wonder about what my life will be life after Formula one. “Where’d you meet Lily?” I don’t know how he’s never told me, maybe he has.

“Boarding school.” He says, earning her attention quickly at the mention, “We were seventeen. He’s asking how we met.”

Lily smiles as Y/n’s eyes brighten, “We went for visiting day before they started dating and Oscar refused to show me the girls hall and now I know why.” She laughs.

“He was always so nervous to come to my room.” Lily explains, “Probably because the old woman who lived with us was-”

“Horrible!” Lily gives Oscar a look, “Evil? Terrifying? Probably ate children?”

Lily shakes her head, “She was a lovely woman who kept gross boys out quite well.”

“Did you go to boarding school?” I ask Y/n who shakes her head while shoving a strawberry in her mouth.

“No chance- I barely survived at regular school, my parents would have never let me.” She flips her hair over her shoulder, the wind blowing the strands. She's shading her eyes from the sun, looking at Oscar while he tells a story from school.

I try to pay attention to him but I can’t focus on anything but the girl in front of me.

I really should know better. I should think better too! I shouldn’t think about kissing Oscar’s sister while he’s talking to me. I shouldn’t want to.

But she’s beautiful. Like out of this world stunning. And her shirt is so loose that I can see her bikini top when she leans over Lily to grab another berry.

I told myself I wouldn’t get involved in any old or new woman in my life because I need to focus. Max bet me fifty bucks that I would give in to having sex with someone before the season starts.

But now that i’m thinking about it, looking at her and imagining what she would taste like… I think I would be more focused if I gave into this urge.

Or maybe i’m just tricking myself because she’s really fucking hot.

We pack up the things after Nicole calls Lily. It makes me laugh because she called Lily before both of her children, rightfully so because neither of them have their notifications on.

I put the basket into the car, Oscar and Lily already closing the trunk when I go back down ro Y/n to help her fold the blanket.

It’s way too big for her to handle by herself. That’s what she said. I grab the other side and follow her movements to make the colorful fabric smaller.

“You’re going to get me in trouble.” She said as we fold another part together. I raise a brow, not understanding, “With Oscar.”

“How so?” I step closer to her, both of our arms stretched as she grabs the last of the fabric from me.

“You were looking at me like you wanted to eat me.” She folds the last square, walking up the hill.

“Maybe because I do.” I’m joking, sort of. Not really. But I say it in a teasing tone, the dark haired girl eyeing me as we get closer to her brother.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” She shrugs, walking to her side of the car now.

I take a breath, watching her walk away with a smirk on my face and something in me telling myself to not do it. “Trouble…” I say to myself, yanking the car door open and sliding in next to her.

⋆༺

I’m folding the sleeve of my button down when I walk out of the bathroom, my eyes immediately going to Y/n who has her head out out the door and is supposedly looking down the hall.

She sees me, stops, and frowns.

“Do I look that bad?” I say, flattening out the blue shirt that P gifted me.

She sighs, looking back and forth once again, “C’mere.” She disappears back into her room, making me wonder if this is a trick.

I hesitantly walk up to her door, pushing it open lightly and finally revealing all of her. Her back is to me, looking in a full body mirror and making my heart speed up.

She’s in a short light blue dress, or at least, half in it.

It’s unzipped and she’s holding her hair up above her head when she takes a step closer to me. “Zip me up?” She looks back at me, probably confused as to why I'm standing here like an idiot.

“Uh- Yeah!” I nod, stepping behind her and taking the zipper between my fingers. I place my other hand on her hip, trying to not think of this morning in the kitchen, or every fantasy I've had since then.

Her back is even more tan from laying in the sun today and I swear to god, when I see a slip of lace from her underwear, I want to slap myself.

The zipper is tough so I have to hold her a little tighter. I don’t want to hurt her though so I force the zipper into place slowly. It’s agonizing, the fabric closing over her skin in a satisfying finish.

I can’t breathe, looking up into the mirror over her shoulder. We’re wearing the same color. “Looks good.” I choke out, her chest moving up and down beneath the fabric.

She doesn’t say anything but I catch how her eyes dart to the door which is half closed and for a singular moment, I think she might run.

She turns around instead, and kisses me.

Every drop of a tennis ball from my trainer has led up to this moment. I react as fast as I can, her hands on my neck, my hair, pulling me closer. Wanting me closer.

I hold her hips, her waist, her ass. I relish every little breath she takes, how her nails feel in my hair. I fucking needed this. Her.

Her tongue slips in my mouth as I push against her. The fabric of her dress is cool against my skin, my hands hot and needing to hold on tighter.

The second she lets out a little whine, I nearly drop her. It’s the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life.

But it’s gone in an instant, pulling away from me with force. “Shit.” Is all she mutters, her hands leaving my skin quickly, her body moving away with them.

She runs- literally RUNS out of the room. She's left me breathless and hard and-

I look into her mirror

Covered in lip gloss.

⋆༺

you

I don’t think my heart will ever beat at a normal pace again. Is this what the drivers feel like in the car?

I down a glass of champagne, smiling at a friend of my moms. I’m happy I quit karting if it is.

“You okay?” Lily asks me, “Your friends just got here.” Shit.

No im not okay! I just kissed my brothers teammate! And he kissed me back! And I want to kiss him again! And fuck- he’s looking at me.

I smile, nodding, “Thanks, Lil.”

My friends as In Jaz and Drew, my literal soulmates. I hug them both, Jaz’s hair gets stuck on my earring. Jaz is in a dark purple dress while Drew is in a little white number that she definitely made herself.

“Where is he then?” Drew asks quickly, looking around as Jaz rolls her eyes.

“Who…?”

“Norris! Who else?” I groan as Jaz shushes her. It’s not like Drew is out to fuck the man, she’s just absolutely obsessed with formula one. Thank god she grew up with my brother and doesn’t think of him more than her friend's brother.

Jaz grabs Drew’s hand, “I need a drink if she’s going to geek out all night.” I laugh, feeling lighter now that they’re here.

“Trust me, I need two.”

Lando finds us before we can find him and maybe it’s a little selfish but when I introduce him, I absolutely leave him with Drew as she asks a million questions.

“You’re avoiding him-” Jaz puts the pieces together quickly, “Y/n what did you do?” I practically shove her at Lily, leaving them both to find my mom.

I used to hate my moms friends. I know it sounds mean, but they’d latch onto me at the worst moments. One time, I tried to sneak out with a bottle of vodka and my family friend literally dragged me back inside and drank straight from the bottle!

Now, I love them. They’re all reading the same smutty books as me and gushing about how beautiful I am. What a life!

“Y/n, dear,” Beck, a woman who’s basically my aunt grabs my arm, “Lando’s staying here? Get on that babe.”

I laugh out loud, almost choking on my champagne, “I’m pretty sure he has a girlfriend.” I lie easily but when it escapes my lips I get the horrible feeling that I could be right.

He’s gorgeous, rich, famous… Oscar would tell me, right?

She pats my arm, “Awh you’ve got morals.” Beck smiles like she’s never been prouder, “Well I doubt he does.”

Beck’s wife, Andi, joins us, handing my aunt a drink and catching on immediately, “By the way he’s been checking you out all night, he definitely doesn’t.”

We all look back at him. I thought that three women turning to him at the same time would make him panic, he doesn’t. Lando’s smirk is cool, calm, and collected as he raises a glass to us then turns and walks away.

Beck giggles, fanning her face, “If I liked men-”

Andi swats her wife’s arm, only giving a loving smile along with it, “Oscar!” My brother stops in his tracks, smiling at us. “Set Y/n up with your friend.”

His smile fades, looking pointedly at me.

“I did not put them up to this!” I raise my hands in defense, “Plus!” I snatch a cracker from the napkin he’s holding, “If I wanted Lando, I wouldn’t need to be set up.”

This makes Oscar visibly more uncomfortable but dragged into a conversation with Beck and Andi as I retreat back to my friends.

“Would it be inappropriate to take shots?” I ask as I join Jaz, Lily, and Drew.

“How very highschool of you.” Jaz sighs, brightening, “Let’s do it!”

We end up not doing it. But we have just as good of a time. I haven’t laughed so hard in weeks. I guess when your life is a bit crazy, your girls always got you.

They’re unfortunately plucked away from me one by one. Lily is pulled away by Oscar and Jaz disappeared after going to the bathroom. Drew informs me that she has to go soon, “Before I go…” She smiles at me, “I have to tell you.”

“I’m scared.”

“When I was harassing Lando earlier, something he very politely sat through, by the way! We talked about you. Well, he asked about you. A lot.” I try to pretend that this doesn’t make me dizzy.

She squeezes my hand, “I’m just saying… he’s cool.”

“Cool?”

“No one is cooler than you but he might be cool enough for you.” And then she kisses my cheek and goes to find Jaz before leaving.

I see him then, talking to my uncle. There’s a drink in his hand but I'm pretty sure it’s just soda. His shirt, the one I tugged at when I kissed him, is unbuttoned a bit, his 4 chain sitting on his skin.

It’s the first time all night that I’ve gotten to really watch him. He looks good, He looked even better with my lipgloss on his lips but I ran away before I could really look at him.

The party dies down, the sun going down with it. My friends are gone, I'm pretty sure Lily and Oscar are hiding in his room, and i’m trying to avoid my moms friend who swears she has a man for me.

“Hey.” I practically jump at the sudden voice, turning to see Lando with his hands up. “Please don’t run away again.”

I hold my glass tighter, now for decoration more than hydration, “Hi.”

“You okay, trouble?” He sips his drink, walking closer to me with a hand in his pocket.

I eye him, not fully looking at him yet. “Are you?” I opt to scan the little people left, all smiling and half drunk.

“I’m better than ever. Except that this weird thing happened to me today…”

I say softly, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I got kissed.” I can’t help but smirk a bit at the memory.

“Must’ve been out of the ordinary.”

He nudges my arm, swaying away again too fast, “And then she ran away.”

I stay silent, hoping he’ll say something else. He doesn’t. “I wasn’t supposed to.” I turn to him, “In fact, I was told not to.”

“You were… told not to run away from me?”

“No!” I huff, “I was told not to kiss you. Or ‘mess with you’ as my dear brother put it.”

His eyebrows raise, “Oscar said that?”

“He’s so freaked out i’m going to ruin you or something-”

“What if I want you to ruin me?” I ignore this.

“He should be yelling at you, not me.” I cross my arms, mumbling, “You're the real trouble.”

He smiles at this, grinning at me like I just gave him the best compliment ever.

“You kiss like it.” I finish, looking away again.

My mom walks by in our silence, smiling at both of us wildly, “You two look like a couple!” she points at our clothes, both light blue, before leaving.

“I’ve talked about you way too much tonight.”

“You could have talked to me instead.” He mentions, “I tried like five times but you’re very popular. That and you were actively avoiding me which is totally unfair for someone who left me hard in your room-”

I groan, putting my hand over my face, “Don’t say shit like that.”

“Why? I know you like it.”

I narrow my eyes at him, “You’re evil.”

“You’re hot.” I go to walk away but he follows, “You kissed me.” He says in a hushed tone.

“And?”

“And I know you want to kiss me again.” I stop walking. It’s too late now, I've already crossed the line. His head tilts a bit and suddenly I'm very glad I did.

“I guess I'll need your help.” I sigh, shrugging.

“Hm?” He quirks a brow.

I step closer, “You got me into this dress. It’s only right if you get me out of it.” His smirk is slow, sexy, and only for me.

“Lando!” It’s Oscar. He’s waving his teammate over. His teammate who doesn’t look away from me.

“You know where to find me.” I put on a smile for my brother, heading over to my family with Lando in my wake.

⋆༺

He does help me out of my dress, not in the way i’d like, but unzips me before Oscar calls him into the kitchen.

It’s late when I hear the creaking of hardwood. I smile immediately before reminding myself that he’s only a man.

Then I smile again because he’s a really fit man.

He opens my door slowly, shutting it as quiet as possible. I sit up in my bed, closing my book and watching him sigh in relief. “I swear I thought I heard someone coming-“

He walks over to the end of my bed, kneeling on it. “I nearly shit myself.” He tugs at my ankle, pulling me down as he leans over me, smiling, “Hey.” And then he dips his head to mine and kisses me, pinning my arms over my head as I feel his weight over me.

“You’re quick with it.” I say in between kisses.

“Just wait until you see how fast I can make you cum.” His hand drags down my torso, holding me in place at the same time he slips his hand under my shirt. “Fuck.” Me mumbles when he realizes I'm not wearing a bra.

“Lan-” I whine against him. He really is quick, my shirt is off seconds later, my chest soon covered again by his lips. “Mm…”

I tug at his hair, something he moans at which makes me smile. I kiss him again, harder, deeper. I tug his shirt off, my hands finally giving in and exploring his body.

“Need you.” I mumble, moving my hand to his sweats and trying to pull them down.

“Christ, that's the hottest thing I've ever heard.” He stops my hand, “Not yet.” laying farther down the bed, he drags his lips over my skin.

I’m exposed, he’s staring at my tits and never been more turned and comfortable at the same time. One hand slips under the waistband of my sweats, and i’m gone in an instant, “Your fucking hands…”

He smirks up at me, his mouth slightly parted and my hair still in his hair. “You like that?” he asks, taking his hand away and moving it away from my core. I’m sad only for a moment, then I realize why he’s moved it.

He moves his fingers past my lips, dipping them into my mouth as I respond by sucking. Fuck, it’s hot. He looks so accomplished, watching his fingers test my limits. “Good girl.” He mumbles, making me whine. He’s grinning now, pulling his fingers away and watching the trail of saliva that follows it.

Slipping his hand back down my body, he shoves my panties aside, his fingers curling into me and making my back arch. “You were right, trouble, you do look good enough to eat.”

I laugh at this, though it comes out more as a moan. No wonder he stopped my hand before, he was planning this. His head dips between my thighs, forcing my legs to part as his tongue meets my skin and I bite my lip so hard it bleeds.

[nightcourtnovels]

Little Matchmaker

Azriel x reader (Part 4)

Summary: Reader and Azriel finally go on a real date before he leaves the Day Court.

A/N: This ones a big of a long one… all fluff tho straight fluff. Also can be read as a stand alone)

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

You stood in front of the mirror, staring at yourself with a mix of excitement and dread, the bedroom was a battlefield of dresses and tossed accessories. Your best friend sat on the edge of the bed, eyeing the chaos with a grin.

“Sit,” Selene commanded, tossing a few dresses on the bed before smoothing down the sheets like she was preparing a royal display. “We need to make you look irresistible. You’re going out with a bat boy. I’ve always wondered if the rumors are true… about those wingspans you know.”

Groaning, you threw a pillow at her. “You are not helping.”

“Oh, I’m helping,” she smirked, tossing the pillow back. “I’m riling you up so you don’t chicken out. Come on, look at this dress. It’s literally the color of his siphons.”

You settled in front of the mirror, trying to breathe past the nerves while Selene fussed with your hair.

“You look beautiful,” she said softly, stepping closer and adjusting the delicate necklace around your neck. “Seriously. If he doesn’t fall head over wings for you, he’s blind.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, a bit breathless.

Selene leaned in and kissed your cheek. “I’m happy for you. Just… let yourself enjoy this. Let yourself feel it.”

A knock echoed from the front door.

Selene then raised a brow. “That’s your cue.” And with a wink, she added, “Have fun. Get cozy. If this thing works out, I expect an invite to the City of Starlight. You get Azriel as your brooding tour guide, and I’ll explore the shops and flirt with mysterious artists. Win-win.”

Laughing you headed towards the door, trying to ignore the nerves in your chest.

When you opened it, there he was—shadows curling lazily around him, his dress shirt fitted just perfectly with a few buttons undone. Just enough to see some tattoos peaking out and that delicious looking tanned skin— You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and smiled.

“I figured I’d dress to match your aesthetic,” you said with a playful smirk, running a hand down the fabric.

Azriel’s lips twitched into a grin. “You look stunning.”

“And you look like trouble,” you said eyeing him from shoes to shadows. “Ready to cause some?”

“Always,” he replied, offering his arm, which you took with an amused roll of your eyes. The two of you then quickly set a good pace and quietly strolled down the streets of Day, both asking how your days went and watching the people pass by.

~~

Dinner was an experience all on its own. Azriel had taken you to a quaint restaurant tucked away in the heart of the city, the kind of place that felt timeless. The soft clinking of glasses and the quiet murmur of conversation around you only enhanced the intimate atmosphere. As you both sat down, the conversation began with the usual light chatter—talking about work, the upcoming events in Velaris, and even a few stories about your respective friends.

“So,” you said, leaning forward with a teasing smirk. “How old are you, anyway? You must be so old by now. Fighting in two wars, wow.”

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh, swirling his drink. “You think I’m that old?”

You leaned in, voice a dramatic whisper. “You feel that old. All that silence and mystery. It's giving eternal grandpa.”

He raised a brow. “I’m 540.”

You blinked, then snorted. “Okay, okay. Not as ancient as I feared. Still older than my bookshelf, though.”

He grinned. “How old is that bookshelf? A pretty face like yours can’t be too old.”

Tilting your head, you act offended. “I’m 249, thank you very much. But guess what?” Leaning closer, eyes gleaming. “In twenty days, I’ll be turning 250.”

He gave a low whistle. “Quarter of a millennium. Impressive.”

“Do you know what happens when a female turns 250?” You asked, swirling your wine glass with deliberate slowness.

Azriel's brows furrowed slightly in curiosity. “I have no idea.”

You leaned back with a dramatic sigh, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I become so old that no one will want me anymore,” you said, a smirk curling your lips. “So I’ll have to get a little crazy to keep them interested.”

Azriel’s eyes twinkled, his lips pulling into a teasing grin. “You’re not even close to old. And besides,” he leaned closer, “do you know how old my brothers’ mates are? Look at the two old males they love.”

You snorted, laughing. “They don’t count! They might as well have lived a hundred lifetimes with what they’ve gone through. And trust me, Nesta acts like grumpy old fae anyways.”

Azriel tilted his head, eyes narrowing in amusement. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, a playful glint in your eye. “I met Nesta last year when she came to the library to look at books. We bonded over them. She’s a bookworm just like me.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you liked to read books like that.”

“Oh, I love them,” you said with a coy grin, leaning forward. “I could show you if you wanted.”

Azriel froze mid-sip, the glass halting just before his lips. His eyes widened. “Show me?”

Your smirk deepened, and you leaned back in your chair. “Yeah, I could show you… the books we read.”

Azriel’s eyes flickered, his lips twitching in amusement as he laughed. “I’m not sure whether I should be excited or worried now.”

Giggling, the conversation eventually drifted into quieter territory, the air softening between the two of you as the night wore on.

“Tell me about your family,” you asked, tracing the rim of your glass.

Azriel considered, his voice softer. “I have two brothers. Rhysand and Cassian. You’ve obviously have met Nyx. My nephew. He’s a menace, but he’s got everyone wrapped around his finger.”

You smiled. “Really now? Couldn’t tell… Any immediate family?”

“My mother. I visit her when I can,” he said, a quiet fondness touching his words. “She lives out in the country. Doesn’t like the bustle of Velaris. Says too many people, not enough peace. Plus, she keeps herself busy with stray cats and nosy neighbors.”

You laughed, eyes lighting. “I like her already. I have a habit of collecting stray cats, too.”

He raised a brow. “Really? I didn’t know that. How many do you have?”

Sipping your wine, you feigned innocence. “You’ll have to take me out on another date to learn that.”

Azriel grinned. “Tempting. My mother would love you. You’ll probably steal her attention even more.”

“Don’t get jealous now.”

He leaned closer, shadows curling lazily around him. “You don’t even know how jealous I can get.”

You gave a teasing gasp. “Big momma’s boy, huh?”

He rolled his eyes, laughing. “Maybe.”

“What about you?” he asked. “Your family?”

You went quiet for a moment, then smiled, soft and faraway. “I was my father’s mini-me. Drove my mother crazy. I’d follow him everywhere. He taught me how to read the stars.”

Azriel nodded, “Do they live here?”

“They did but they passed away a long time ago,” you continued. “It was hard at first, but… I’d like to think I still make them proud. They loved each other so deeply. Honestly couldn’t live without each other.”

Azriel smiled softly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. But I do know there’s no doubt you’d still be making them proud.”

You smiled gently, as if hearing him say those words made the pain lessen.

For the rest of dinner, the conversation flowed easily between the two of you, with lighthearted teasing and moments of unexpected depth. And after the delicious chocolate cake for dessert, Azriel turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“So,” he said, leaning in slightly. “Is there anything you’d like to do next? Anything… specific?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “Dancing,” you said, your grin widening as you watched his eyes darken with amusement.

“Dancing, huh?” he repeated. “I think I can manage that, but I might have two left feet.”

Giggling, you told him you did as well and you could be fools together.

Azriel took your hand as you both left the restaurant, the night air cool but pleasant. You found a popular bar not too far from the restaurant, filled with music and laughter. The second you both walked in, someone handed you a drink. Azriel raised a brow, amused as you downed it like a challenge.

After that, you couldn’t help but pull him out onto the dance floor.

The music pulsed around you two, and you both moved together without thinking—like your bodies knew something they hadn’t figured out yet.

You laughed as Azriel twirled you around, your hair catching the light, and smile dazzling. He couldn’t look away.

“You’re good at this,” you said, breathless.

“So are you,” he murmured, one hand on your waist, the other at the small of your back.

Your faces were close, his shadows curling between you like a second skin.

“I could get used to this,” you whispered.

He smiled, spinning you, and for a second—just one second—Azriel let himself feel the ache in his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt something this real. Like he was no longer watching life from the outside. Like he’d stepped into it.

Yet, he didn’t say anything and just held you a little closer.

Later on, after many drinks, you laughed as Azriel dipped you and pulled you back into him, his hand resting low on your back, your bodies moving in sync. The playful teasing had turned into something more intoxicating, the two of you caught in the rhythm of the night, the chemistry between you undeniable.

And hours passed before either of you even noticed how late it had gotten. The bar was still lively, but the energy had shifted into something more intimate between the two of you, each glance and touch more charged than the last.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his hand with a sudden impulse. “I have something to show you.”

You led him through the winding streets until you reached a secluded spot— a hidden pool nestled beneath trees and moonlight.

“I come here when I need to breathe,” you said, tripping slightly as you tug off your heels. “To remember what peace feels like.”

Azriel glanced around, taking in the quiet surroundings. “It’s beautiful.”

And then, without warning, you leapt in—dress and all.

Azriel stood at the edge, stunned, wondering if the alcohol was giving him hallucinations or if you actually just jumped in. “You’re insane.”

You grinned, feeling the alcohol loosen your inhibitions. “I’m living,” you said with a playful wink. “Come on, jump in if you dare.”

Azriel laughed, though there was hesitation in his eyes. He stepped forward slowly, removing his shoes first before removing his shirt with exaggerated slowness. “I’m not a scoundrel,” he said, “so I’ll be taking my clothes off properly.”

You couldn’t help but blush, your eyes inadvertently following his every movement as he stripped off his pants.

Azriel noticed your gaze and smirked. “What? Never seen a male before?”

“Not one built like that,” you muttered under your breath, too tipsy to care if he heard.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything else, then without warning, he leaped into the pool, the splash sending water flying.

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching him wipe water from his eyes and shake off his wings. The two of you swam for what felt like hours, talking about everything and nothing, but mostly about the stars.

“I love looking at them,” you said, your voice soft, distant, as you floated on your back, eyes fixed on the sky.

Azriel nodded, his gaze intense. “You should see the stars in Velaris. I’ll show you sometime, the mountains have the best view.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought. “I’d love that,” you whispered.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss. But as you pulled back, your eyes widened in realization. “Oh, I—”

Before you could apologize, Azriel cupped the back of your head and pulled you in for another kiss, deeper this time, with a sense of urgency. He pulled away, breathless, his voice a whisper. “Never apologize for that.”

You stayed like that for a while, in the water, tangled in each other. Hands wandered. Kissing never stopped.

But, eventually, the cold of the pool reminded you both of the time, and with a soft sigh, Azriel pulled away, his hand finding yours and tugged you out of the pool.

“Come here,” he murmured, and gently guided you closer. He then gave you his shirt to wear since your dress was soaking wet.

You slipped your arms into the sleeves, and Azriel stepped in, carefully pulling the fabric across you chest.

His fingers worked the buttons slowly, one by one, his knuckles grazing your skin, the shirt sticking slightly to your still-damp dress beneath.

Neither of you said a word.

He wasn’t looking at the buttons anymore—his eyes were on your lips, your throat, your eyes again. You felt your breath catch in your lungs.

You could feel his breath too, shallow and deliberate, the space becoming tighter with every second.

Your voice was barely above a whisper. “You don’t do this for all your dates, do you?”

A small smile ghosted his lips. “Only the ones who drag me into freezing pools and steal my shirt.”

You laughed, but it came out breathy, unsteady. He finished the last button, his hand lingering for just a second too long. Your heart was pounding.

And you knew he could hear it.

“There. Warm now?”

You nodded. “Mostly.”

He didn’t step back.

Neither did you.

A silence stretched, not awkward—just charged, like the pause before lightning splits the sky. Eventually, you let out a soft breath and whispered, “We should head back. Before the sun fully rises and the city realizes we’ve stolen a whole night.”

Azriel finally, slowly, nodded. “Right. Come on.”

And as the first light of dawn broke across the sky, Azriel walked you back to your home, his hand lingering on the small of your back.

Your damp dress clung to your thighs, but you didn’t care. Not with the scent of cedar and shadows that clung to his shirt. Not with the soft glances he kept stealing your way when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

Your fingers brushed once. Twice. The third time, his pinkie hooked around yours.

You looked up at him. He didn’t look back, just smiled, barely-there and lopsided.

No one spoke as you walked. The silence was full, companionable.

Stopping once you reached your house. Azriel turned towards you.

“I haven’t had a night like this in years,” he murmured. “Not since—” He broke off, but you understood. There were things behind both of your smiles. Shadows behind the laughter.

“Well,” you said, brushing you hair back, “hopefully it happens again.”

He looked at you for a long moment. Then he stepped closer, his shadows curling around his legs, his voice barely audible when he said, “I’d like that.”

He dipped his head, and kissed you—slow and soft, like he was memorizing your taste. Melting into it, with your arms around his waist, his shirt drowned your frame but still felt like it belonged there. Like he belonged there.

When he pulled away, he didn’t go far. His forehead pressed against yours for a second, breath shared.

“Goodnight,” he whispered.

“Goodnight, Shadowsinger,” you whispered back, your heart pounding.

Azriel gave you one last lingering look before turning to leave after you walked inside.

He started to walk away, shadows whispering around his shoulders.

But a few steps down the path, Azriel slowed. His hand rose to his chest again, where that strange ache still lingered. Not knowing if it was real or simply fatigue from dancing all night, he looked up at the dawn-washed sky and whispered, “Please, Mother. If this is it… I ask for nothing more.”

And with one long exhale, Azriel continued his way to the palace, where he would gather his things, and go back home. Home. Where you weren’t.

Shaking his head, his shadows curled softly around him and Azriel disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~

(Hopefully everyone liked it, tried to show a more carefree side than the usual brooding. If anyone was any ideas on where to take this story next lmk! Angst???? Or just straight fluff??? No angst??)

[st4vk1nmybra1n]

wc: 500

cw: celebrity!caleb x gn!reader, just very silly fluffy headcanons! Reader is set to have an interviewing series similar to Chicken Shop Date called Tea-Time Talk!! (lowercase intended)

a/n: recently been geeking out over Love and Deepspace (might have a gambling addiction because of the gacha system) so i decided to write for Caleb :33 but i also have a longer fic for Sylus in the works.. wink wink

celebrity!caleb who gets restless at the thought of finally being able to join you on an episode for Tea-Time Talk, after months of pestering his manager and stalking all your posts and videos for the third time. (He's a d1 fan..)

celebrity!caleb whose eyes shine so bright when he's meeting you for the first time, resisting the urge to celebrate when you pull him in for a hug to greet him.

celebrity!caleb who brings out a gift as he sits down, smiling proudly as he watches you gasp in awe at the set of exotic and rare teas he got you!

celebrity!caleb who laughs just a little too hard at your jokes, full on slapping his knee, almost falling out of his seat. All while you blink in mild amusement and surprise. Surely you couldn't have been that funny..

celebrity!caleb who watches you skillfully pour him a cup of tea with his elbow resting against the table, holding up his arm which serves as a pillowy surface for him to lay his pretty little head on, giving you that signature puppy-dog-yearning look he's known for.

celebrity!caleb who takes a second too long to respond, a dumb smile on his lips as he watches you talk. His brain catches up a little late when he sees your gorgeous eyes narrow at him instead of sparkling and speaking all your sentences for you..

celebrity!caleb who answers all your questions earnestly, but is eager to learn more about you! So what if he starred in a new film or had a new feature or project out? He wants to know where you got that scar on your index finger from.

celebrity!caleb who compliments you on your tea pouring skills, playfully commenting about how you're a professional. (Which you are, considering this is your job..)

celebrity!caleb who runs through so many cups of tea from how much he simply sat and listened to you talk, preferring very much to listen to your voice. (Oh, and also– he just happens to take pretty large sips..)

celebrity!caleb who hums ruefully when you lament about how less you learned about him during your date– (even though you call every episode a “date” it doesn't make him any less giddy) only to then enthusiastically suggest a second date, all while his bright doe eyes stared you down.

celebrity!caleb who grins charmingly when you tell him you'll think about it, already thinking about how he'll get all his friends to comment on the video when it's up, imploring that you bring him on a second date.

celebrity!caleb who hugs you goodbye in his large and muscular arms, whispering in that quiet and husky voice about how nice it was to be on the show with you, passing you a small wink as he walks off set.

celebrity!caleb whose phone blows up once the video goes up on your channel, with everyone commenting about how there was so much chemistry between you two!

celebrity!caleb who can't help but preen and gloat when he sees comments talking about how you seemed to be extra flustered and break character around him, more than you'd done with anyone else.

celebrity!caleb who takes one good look at the views amassed on his video with you, and starts planning out his next date with you because duh!

celebrity!caleb who doesn't hesitate to @ you when he tweets “so when's the next date? ;)” thinking he definitely swooned you.

celebrity!caleb who definitely had you swooned, but he doesn't need to know that..

[lovesickhughes]

LIV !!! congrats on your celly!!! you deserve it so much 🩷

could we get amore + "you have no idea how long i've thought about having you like this." or "keep the noise down, baby. you're too loud." with bsf!luke? 👀👀

a/n: OF COURSE MY ANGEL 👼🏼🤍 i went a little crazy on this one (5.7k words), but you deserve this and more. I LOVE YOU!!! i hope you enjoy (not edited)

18+ under the cut!

You hated to admit it, but you were falling for Luke, and you were falling hard.

But how could you not when he did everything in his ability to make you swoon over him, and leave you noticing your heart skipping a beat every moment he gave that extra bit of effort.

However, you couldn't see yourself building the courage to admit to your feelings and tell Luke that you've fallen for him, but it became harder as each day passed on and there were moments you began to wish you could call him yours.

So when you were at yet another hockey party Luke had dragged you to, the unsettling feeling that filled your stomach at the sight of a girl you hadn't ever seen before talking to Luke and standing a little too close for your liking, you were left to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from exposing your feelings.

You sipped on your drink, cringing as the alcohol burned your throat as you swallowed it; cursing whoever made the concoction and how much liquor they poured into it. Yet, your eyes never left Luke, watching from across the room, seeing him lean down to the girl's height to hear what she had to say, watching how she leaned in close, placing her hand on his shoulder and gripping his arm tighter than you would have preferred.

And when her arm trailed down to his hand, interlinking their fingers and Luke's head fell back in a laugh, you tried your hardest not to show your annoyance and the roll of your eyes that just happened by instinct.

"Y/n, can you make it more obvious that it's clearly bugging you?" Ethan nudged your side with his elbow, making you shoot him a glare.

"Making what obvious? And what is it?" You countered, squinting your eyes as your eyebrows pinch into a frown.

Ethan just scoffed, letting out a laugh before shaking his head in disbelief, "You gotta be kidding me— you're obviously jealous your boy is over there talking to that girl, and you obviously have feelings for Luke." He shrugged, trying to contain his own laugh.

Your eyebrow quirked as you tilted your head, attempting to mask the obvious truth that was painted all over your face, "I am not jealous. What makes you think that?" You counter, stepping forward towards Ethan who was leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

Ethan pushes himself off the counter to turn and face you, his large frame towering over your own. You swallow thickly at his closeness, noticing the slight stubble growing on his face, and the scent of his cologne wafting through the air. His arm braced his frame by placing it beside where you stood, enclosing your body against his, a grin toying on his face as you watched in fear.

"Because," He said, leaning to the side to give you an angle of Luke who still was stood across the room, only this time Luke's gaze wasn't focused on the girl in front of him, it was on you; and how close Ethan stood next to you.

"I know for a fact me being this close to you is making that man's brain go haywire." He jested, shrugging his shoulders while you scolded him.

You tried to contain the feeling of heat rushing to your cheeks at the thought of Luke growing the slightest bit jealous over you perched with another guy, but your thoughts were halted when your eyes met his— only for a brief moment, but felt like time had slowed and the world had stopped.

You gave Luke a small, sweet smile before turning at the call of your name from a friend you had met in one of your classes and heading to the other area of the house where bodies filled and music blared.

But you couldn't help but turn back at the feeling of Luke's eyes watching you leave, noticing the way he bit at the inside of his lip, contemplating something unbeknownst to you.

—

Later that night, and three rounds of beer pong later, you could feel the alcohol consuming your body, making your limbs feel fuzzy, your eyes heavier and the environment causing your head to slightly spin.

You were sat on the couch in the living room, pressed up against the bodies of a few members of the hockey team who you had been introduced to over the times spent with Luke.

Listening in to the conversations and laughs being shared by the loud and rambunctious boys, you smiled at their jokes and bantering, but couldn't help but feel a sinking feeling settle in your chest.

You had begin to notice you had yet to see Luke since your encounter earlier in the night with Ethan, but even then you hadn't spoken any words, just lingering glances that left your stomach twisting.

You pulled out your phone, only to see no new messages from the one person you wished to be consuming your time, and while mindlessly scrolling, you couldn't help but let your brain wander to the thought of where Luke could be and what he could be doing.

Just as the thought of that girl you had seen him with earlier, the sound of the boys hollering caught your attention, lifting your gaze to see the one and only man you could have hoped to see.

Luke walked in, leaning in the doorway of the room, beer can in his hand as he called over to his friends, clapping hands with a few others as they walked by. But when his eyes scanned the room, and found the familiar ones, you couldn't help the rush of heat flood to your cheeks.

Luke sauntered over to where you sat, his large frame towering over you, as a tired grin pulled over his face.

"Hey you," He smiled, his hands reaching down to slightly brush over your thigh. "How's it going?" He asked softly as he nudged one of the familiar faces of his teammate to move over for his large body to slide in next to you.

His arm wrapped around the back of the couch, falling on your shoulder and his hand instinctively wrapped around your arm, pulling you in close to his warm frame. It was as if you fit perfectly against his side; like a lock and key, and just by being in his embrace, you felt at ease, like it was exactly where you were supposed to be.

"You good?" Luke mumbled against your temple, placing a delicate kiss to your head. You hummed in response, nodding your head and closing your eyes, leaning your head against Luke's shoulder and letting the bass of the music vibrate through your veins.

"I haven't seen you that much tonight," You said looking up to meet Luke's eyes.

He pursed his lips, giving a tight smile, "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry."

You gave another small smile, turning your head to place a quick kiss on his shirt-covered shoulder. "S'okay, just like seeing you, y'know." You mumbled, shuffling back into your previous position and letting Luke's free hand grab your own and intertwine your fingers with his.

"Will you two just kiss and make it official already— I mean this is just painful." Ethan called from across the room while he positioned himself to throw the small ping pong ball while focusing on the intense game of beer pong.

You only shook your head and let out a small chuckle at Ethan's remark, but you couldn't help but notice Luke shift against you, his hand tightening against yours and pulling you closer. It was as if the subtle movement was the slightest indication he felt the same way and that was all you needed.

You let it slip your mind, focusing your attention on the intense game of beer pong being played while chiming in every once in a while to the conversation being shared with the group that was spaced out along the couches.

Soon enough, the night had died down, people began to depart and the music was turned down so that it only filled the background. You had gotten up to help clean up the garbage that had been scattered across the house by the drunken fools, and as you were collecting cups off of the counter in the kitchen, you felt the familiar grasp of Luke's hand slide from the small of your back and around to your front, pulling you back so that your hips were pressed against his, his chest leaning into your back.

"Thanks for helping, Y/n/n, I really appreciate it." He thanked as he turned you in his arms to face him. The sight was the breathtaking, looking up at Luke, seeing his hooded gaze from the alcohol consuming his veins, the sly smirk that spread on his face from the giddiness of the alcohol— and what he believed was from being this close to you— and you couldn't help but notice his fingers toying with your top, feeling the texture of the fabric beneath his fingertips.

You shrug at his appreciation, turning quickly to toss the used cups into the trash bag that hung on one of the cabinets before turning back to face Luke, bracing yourself by placing your hand against his forearm, noticing the goosebumps that laid across his skin.

"Someone's gotta do it, I know how you all get." You laugh, shifting on your feet.

"Do you wanna stay over?" Luke asked abruptly, as if he had been waiting to ask you, which in reality he had, but you didn't need time to hesitate, you nodded quickly, smiling as he intertwined his fingers with yours and directed you upstairs to his room.

It wasn't uncommon for you to spend the night at Luke's; long nights of studying, binge-watching movies and TV shows or simply just hanging out, it seemed more convenient to stay than to trek home. So when he opened the door, you were welcomed with the familiar sight, scent and cozy-feel of his room, taking in the dim light from his desk and the neatly made bed.

"I'll grab you a pair of sweats and a shirt so you don't have to wear that," He said nodding to your body that was clothed in a pair of jeans with a nice top. You nodded quietly as you sat on the edge of Luke's bed, feeling the growing tiredness consume you. You watched Luke dig around his dresser to find clothes that wouldn't be overly sized on you, and you couldn't help but fall into a daze as you watched his back muscles shift beneath his white t-shirt, seeing him move swiftly.

The toss of his clothes hitting your face brought your attention back to him, looking up with question in your eyes as you had noticed he was waiting for you to respond— the staring causing you to tune out the surroundings.

"Sorry, what'd you say?" You asked softly, smiling up to Luke who stood opposite you, now leaning against his dresser with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I asked if you were good, you were zoning out there." He chuckled.

You sat up taller on the bed, wiggling your hips to adjust better, "Oh, yeah. I'm good. Just tired." You nodded your head, but you words weren't convincing. Luke only squinted his eyes before turning back around to grab a pair of pyjama pants from another drawer and it was if you were smacked right in the face at the sight of Luke pulling his shirt over his head to leave his torso bare.

You had seen him shirtless before, but this time, whether it was the lingering alcohol, or the close proximity of being in his room, you felt your mouth slightly fall agape, stunned by the sight.

You swallowed thickly, averting your gaze to avoid being caught in an awkward moment, and yourself stood up to change into more comfortable clothing.

You turned towards the wall, staring at the few pictures and other memorabilia that was scattered across the wall and quickly stripped from your pants, tossing them to the side before reaching behind your back to undo the zipper of your top.

But of course, as if the universe wanted the sexual tension to flood the room, you tugged at the zipper that seemingly was stuck to no avail. You groan, throwing your head back knowing that the only solution was to ask Luke.

"You gotta be kidding me," You grumbled lowly under your breath before sighing and gathering the courage to call out to Luke. "Luke, can you help me— my zipper is stuck." You groan, looking over your shoulder to see Luke digging around near the side of his bed. He shot up from leaning over, eyes wide and his expression shocked as if he was caught in the middle of something, but when his eyes fell to you, and trailed down to your frame, you felt heat rush to your cheeks, nodding your head to summon Luke.

He shifted around his bed, coming up to stand behind you and you reached your arms to fumble with the small piece of metal.

"You just gotta make sure it's not caught on anything— I can try to pull the fabr—" You explained, shifting awkwardly on your feet while your eyes scanned for anything but Luke's own.

"I got it, Y/n." Luke cut you off, his fingers coming to hold the shirt, working the zipper to try and release it. You only nodded, turning your head back to face the wall as your breaths grew shaky, suddenly becoming hyperaware of your surroundings.

The feeling of the zipper finally coming undone made you let out a sigh of relief, turning around to face Luke to thank him— the fabric still loosely hung over your chest. But when you turn around, Luke is already staring down at you, his gaze more lustful and dark. His bottom lip was tucked underneath his teeth, his chest rising and falling deeply as he attempted to control his breathing.

"You okay?" You asked, looking up at Luke through your eyelashes and watched him slowly nod, his hand slowly reaching up to your shoulder, stopping at the strap of your top that was slipping off your skin.

You glanced down to his hand, watching every inch of him moving against you.

"Can I?" Luke asked softly, almost as a whisper, and when you nodded slowly, your eyes never leaving him, you felt the cold air hit your chest as your top fell to the floor, leaving you exposed to Luke.

As if he could read your mind, feeling you grow insecure of being exposed, his hands snaked around your waist, pulling you tight to his chest so your breasts pressed against his ribs, the softness of each of your skin sending shocks of pleasure through your veins.

Luke's hands grazed up and down your spine, like feathers, as he gazed down to you while your hands found their spot on each of Luke's biceps, holding yourself up against him.

"Ethan can't get out of my head." Luke chuckled, his hands still working against the expanse of your back, feeling every dip and curve of your frame.

You laughed, pinching your eyebrows together, "what do you mean?"

He shook his head, laughing alongside you, "Well what if we just kissed already?" He asked lowly, his head falling next to your ear where he planted a slow, wet kiss just below, making your chest shakily inhale a breath. You tilted your head to the side, letting Luke place soft kisses down the trail of your neck from your ear to your collarbone, your eyes fluttering shut at the euphoric feeling of Luke's lips against your skin.

He pulled away, his hands planting themselves against your hips, his eyes never leaving your own. "Can I kiss you?" He asked, eyes darting back between each of your own, waiting for your approval to allow him to take you to another realm of pleasure.

When you nodded your head, it was if everything flashed before you, suddenly his lips were hot against yours, enveloping you into the most delicate, yet hungry kiss you had experienced. Then before you knew it, he was directing you back to his bed, laying you down against the mattress as he hovered over you, his arm bracing himself next to your head while his other hand caressed your bare side, every so often sliding to your breast and toying with your nipple and making you squirm underneath his grasp.

Luke was attacking your neck with kisses, ensuring no area of skin was left untouched by his lips. All the while your hands were roaming his own body, feeling his taut muscles of his shoulders and back, and entangling your fingers in his curls tugging at the hair when he found your sweet spot against your neck.

He pulled away, meeting your eyes as you let yours open to watch Luke and you examined his face, seeing his hungry eyes and wet, swollen lips from kissing you. He reached down to place yet another kiss against your lips, making you moan into his mouth at the contact and he quickly pulled away, a grin tugging on his lips from the sound your mouth had made.

"You have no idea how long I've thought about having you like this," Luke said as his hands roamed your body, rubbing up and down your sides, toying with your breasts and making you shift underneath him.

"Me too," you sigh, your back arching as your body felt eager for some sort of pleasure. Your arms reached for Luke, feeling his own arms and shoulders before pulling him down to be flushed against you, his nose touching the tip of your own. "Fuck me." You whispered against Luke's lips as you grazed your own against his, earning a groan to fall from Luke's throat as he closed his eyes.

He opened them to look at you, more seriously, searching for your confirmation, "Yeah?"

And with the slightest nod, it was almost instantly that Luke's lips were against yours again, this time hungry and determined, his hips falling against yours as your legs fell open to welcome his frame. He made sure your panties were completely off as he stripped from his own, his hard cock freeing from behind his boxers, and your mouth was practically salivating at the sight of Luke stroking his cock, focused eyes as the sight of you laying across his bed.

"You are the most beautiful girl I've ever met." Luke whispered into your ear as he hovered over you, aligning the tip of his cock against your entrance, sliding it up and down against your slit to spread the wetness that had begin to build up.

When Luke pressed into you, stretching you and sending a rush of pleasure through every nerve cell in your body, your back arched and head fell back against the mattress, moaning at how good he felt inside you. His chin fell to tuck into his chest, groaning at the feeling of you enveloping around him as if you were made for him.

"You feel so good, Y/n." He moaned, slowly beginning to thrust against you, pulling his length almost completely out before pushing back in determinedly to bottom you out, making you whine his name, your hands reaching for his shoulders to bring him closer to you.

His elbows rested on either side of your head against the mattress, his nose touching yours as he worked against you, thrusting in a rhythm that had each of your moaning in synchrony. Your hands roamed his body, tugging at his skin and hair, your legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer, to deepen his thrusts even further.

His hand slipped to yours, pulling it above your head and interlocked your fingers, pressing your hand into the mattress as he thrusted into you in such a sensual, intimate and loving way; all the pent up, unspoken words and feelings being shared in the act.

This felt different than the others times you had had sex, aiming to reach the climax— this was two people expressing their admiration that had accumulated over however long you had felt something for Luke, and him sharing that he felt the same way.

As Luke continued to thrust into you, shifting his legs so one was bent upward to hit the spot within you that elicited immense pleasure, you felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten. Your free hand reached for Luke's jaw, delicately holding his face as your eyes met his, never breaking contact as your body responded to each and every movement Luke gave you.

As he sped up, you let out a loud moan, biting your lip and whining while pressing your chest up into his, earning a small chuckle from Luke as he continued to work inside you.

"Baby, you gotta be quiet, keep the noise down, 'kay?" He mumbled against your lips, swallowing your moans while his hand slipped between your bodies to toy with your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through your skin and making your toes curl. Your thighs squeezed against him, feeling your climax approaching as his hand continued to rub quick circles against your clit, all the while his cock slid in and out of your pussy with ease.

"Luke, I'm so close." You moaned, eyes squeezed shut as you focused on the feeling of Luke's cock sliding in and out, his fingers on your clit and his other hand still bracing your own as he fucked you into the mattress.

He nodded, his thrusts changing rhythms as he worked you to your peak. "Yeah, that's it, come on my cock, baby." He encouraged, fucking you like no other. It was as if you two were made for one another, the way your bodies responded to each other, how it was so easy to know the ins and outs and how to make one another come close to the brink of ecstasy.

Luke's thrusts grew more sloppy as his own climax began to build and you pulled him flush against you yet again, your arms slipping from his grasp to link around his neck as he continued to bring you to your orgasm.

"You feel so good, Luke— fuck," You called out, your hands tugging on the curls at the nape of his neck.

"Yeah, baby, you're so close. Doing so good," He encouraged, and it only took a few more sloppy, yet deep and hard thrusts for your orgasm to approach and a sudden burst of euphoria to flood your veins, leaving your body to feel as if it were levitating. Luke's climax wasn't long after, thrusting into you a few more times before quickly pulling out and letting his secretions fall onto your stomach, painting your skin as he moaned your name.

He fell beside you, body limp as you both came down from your highs and he immediately pulled your body into his side, enveloping you into the warmest, tightest hug and placing a delicate kiss against your head.

"Thank you," He mumbled quietly, peppering kisses against your head, making you hum in response, "Let me clean you up, okay?" He said softly as he sat up, his arm dragging down your side to grip at your hip, taking in your exhausted state with his cum still dripping against your skin.

He slipped on his boxers, shuffling around his room, not long before he laid beside you and wiped the residue off of you and pulling one of his shirts over your head. He guided you under the covers, making sure to kiss you once again against your soft lips, and you let yourself continue to kiss him— the feeling addicting.

As your tongues danced with one another, a loud knock pulled your attention away, making you look at Luke with a concerned face.

"What do you want!" Luke called out, brows furrowing as he pondered who it could be, but the familiar snicker of Ethan's laugh gave it away, making your groan and fall back onto Luke's bed.

"Finally!" Ethan said in a sing-song tone, before laughing loudly. Luke looked back at you with apologetic eyes, leaning over your body once again, his arms trapping you against his frame.

You shrugged, "I mean he's not wrong." Which only earned a laugh to fall from Luke's tongue, diving forward to plant his lips right where they belonged— against yours.

[starseclipsing]

Small drabble with a very nervous Mark (aka my fave)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Do you want to come visit anytime soon?” [Draft]

“What are you doing this spring break?” [Draft] 

“You know, the weather this time of year here is amazing! You should come check it out, if you want.” 

He doesn't even bother keeping that one, immediately deleting it. Far too forward, it was practically embarrassing. 

Mark accepts his defeat when he sighs, pocketing his phone in his pants. He just decides to head to class early instead of loitering in the halls like an idiot. He can settle on spending his break with William again.

Having a pen pal started as an annoying project he had to do to pass his sociology class, one he unfortunately needed to graduate. When he had put his hand in the bowl with a bunch of paper slips in it, he had expected nothing but the worst: conservative old men, a middle aged cat lady, or god forbid, a twelve year old boy. He shivered just thinking about it.

However, somehow, by some miraculous stroke of luck, he had gotten you. A girl his age. 

And nevermind that reasoning. Because you happened to also be quite pleasant to talk to. Even if he did have to speak brokenly in your language– at least you were nice about it! (sometimes) Plus, you were pretty funny when he didn’t have to use google translate to understand your messages. 

And listen, so what if you were crazy hot? That’s just a side reason of why he wants to meet you in person. He admires your beautiful personality even more, alright? 

When confiding his predicament to his best friend, William had suggested to simply: ‘take the shot.’

“Either she thinks you're a complete pervert or you’ve got a hot new girlfriend! Gamble, my friend. Gamble.” 

Thanks, William. 

Mark sits in class, taking out his biology notebook and some pens, when he feels his phone buzz. 

He practically jumped. He only has notifications on for one person, (besides his mom) and that was you. 

Hesitantly, he takes out his phone to read the message.

“Hey, Mark! Hope you’re doing well.

Bummer news: all of my friends are going to visit their families this break, it really sucks, I’ll be alone for two whole weeks! So, I wanted to ask if you’d mind if I could crash at your place? I heard the weather where you are right now is amazing. :)” 

He could faint.

[sturnsblogs]

THATS MY GIRL

Loser!Matt X Popular!Reader

—

Matt had heard it a few times already. Whispers from friends, quiet mentions in passing, warnings he didn’t ask for.

“Noah’s been talking shit.”

“He said you’ve been treating Y/N like crap.”

“He’s telling people she deserves better.”

At first, Matt brushed it off. Let people talk. Let Noah talk. He didn’t care. Words were just words — until they weren’t.

He was walking down the hallway after fourth period, heading to his locker when he heard it. Heard him.

Noah was standing just around the corner with two guys from the soccer team, loud enough to be heard, probably on purpose.

“Yeah, I heard he’s been a complete dick to Y/N,” Noah said with a smug little laugh. “Like—switches up on her all the time, can’t make up his mind, playing all these games. Guy’s a walking red flag.”

Matt stopped. Jaw clenched. He didn’t move yet, just stood still, listening, blood starting to heat behind his ears.

“And she still sticks around, man. Like, what the hell is wrong with her? Girl’s either obsessed or just that desperate for attention.”

The guys laughed, but Matt wasn’t frozen anymore.

He turned the corner slowly.

Noah didn’t even look surprised when he saw him.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Matt’s voice was low, sharp.

Noah just smirked. “Relax, bro. Just stating facts. Everyone sees it. You treat her like shit and still expect her to crawl back? Kinda pathetic, honestly.”

Matt’s chest rose and fell faster now. He stepped forward.

“You don’t know a fucking thing about us.”

“I know enough,” Noah said, stepping in too. “I know she cries over you. I know she tells me everything. I know she’s better off without you and deep down—” he leaned in, voice venomous, “—she knows it too.”

That was it.

Matt didn’t even think.

His fist connected with Noah’s jaw before anyone could react.

Then it was a blur—shouting, scrambling. Noah tried to shove him back but Matt was on him again, hands in his hoodie, driving him back into the lockers, a second punch landing square in his cheek.

“You don’t talk about her like that!” Matt snapped, voice cracking with rage. “You don’t fucking talk about her, you piece of shit!”

Teachers started yelling from down the hall. Someone grabbed Matt’s arm, trying to pull him off, but he shoved them back, eyes locked on Noah, blood pumping in his ears.

He didn’t even realize his knuckles were bleeding.

He didn’t care.

Because Noah had crossed a line you don’t cross.

The hallway was chaos.

Phones were out, teachers yelling, students parting like waves around the scene. Noah was slumped slightly against the lockers, face red and already starting to bruise, while Matt stood a few feet away, chest rising and falling, knuckles scraped and bloodied.

And then—

“Matt?!”

Your voice cut through the noise.

His head whipped toward you.

You were standing at the end of the hall, wide-eyed, frozen. Your gaze darted from Noah, wincing and holding his jaw, to Matt, hands still curled in fists.

You rushed forward, eyes flicking over Noah’s face.

“Oh my god—Noah,” you breathed, dropping to your knees beside him. “What the hell happened?!”

Matt stepped forward quickly. “Y/N—wait—he was talking shit about you—about us. I tried to ignore it, I really did—”

But your face dropped, cutting him off with a look.

“Are you serious right now?” your voice cracked. “You beat him up because of what? Gossip?”

“No—it wasn’t just that, he said—he was saying the most fucked up shit about you,” Matt insisted, tone growing desperate. “I lost it, I know, but I swear—”

“No, Matt!” you shouted, standing up. “You think this fixes anything? You think this makes you look like a hero or something? It just makes everything worse!”

Matt’s mouth opened slightly, words failing him.

You turned back to Noah, helping him up slowly, brushing hair from his eyes. He leaned into you just a little, still dazed but watching Matt from over your shoulder.

“I was trying to protect you,” Matt muttered, voice lower now, softer.

But you didn’t look back.

You led Noah into the nearest bathroom, your grip on his sleeve gentle but urgent. The hallway still buzzed with chaos behind you, but your focus was locked on him — his split lip, the purpling bruise forming under his eye, the blood on his cheek.

He sat on the edge of the sink while you grabbed a wad of paper towels and wet them under the faucet, trying to stay calm, trying to make sense of everything.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, dabbing gently at his cheek. He winced a little but didn’t flinch away.

“It’s not your fault,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have said anything about him at all.”

You paused. “So… you did say something?”

Noah sighed and nodded, eyes low. “Yeah. About him. Never about you. I’d never talk about you like that.” His voice was so soft. “I was just venting. He’s always had this attitude, and I… I was annoyed.”

You frowned. “People said you were talking about me too.”

He looked up then, straight into your eyes. “I swear on everything, I’d never disrespect you like that. You know me better than that, don’t you?”

You hesitated… but then gave a quiet nod.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I do.”

Noah exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing. “Good. Because you mean a lot to me.”

He reached up, brushing his fingers gently across your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was soft, careful, like you were something delicate. Something worth handling with care.

“I don’t want you thinking I’m like him,” he whispered. “I’d never hurt you.”

Your breath caught a little in your throat, but you didn’t pull away.

You weren’t sure what this was… but it felt safe in the moment.

And for now, that was enough.

Noah’s hand was still cupping your cheek as you finished blotting the last bit of dried blood. His thumb brushed under your eye, and his voice dropped even softer.

“I don’t think you should talk to him anymore,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Matt, I mean.”

You froze for a second, blinking up at him. “Noah…”

“He’s trying to get in between us,” he continued gently. “You see that, right? Every time we get close, he does something—something to make you question me. To make you feel bad.”

You stepped back a little, heart fluttering with conflict. “He’s just… protective. That’s all.”

Noah shook his head slowly. “No. That’s not what this is. It’s not protection, it’s control. He doesn’t like the idea of you choosing someone else.” He looked down for a moment, voice tightening with quiet frustration. “He put his hands on me over nothing.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he stepped closer, lowering his voice again — calm, soothing, like he was trying to reason with you.

“I care about you,” he said, staring into your eyes. “I listen to you. I treat you right. I never switch up on you. Doesn’t that count for something?”

You swallowed hard. “It does, but—”

“Then why let him mess that up?” he interrupted softly, brushing your arm with his fingertips. “Don’t let someone toxic keep creeping back in. That’s not what you deserve.”

You hesitated, and in that small pause, he pressed one last button — his voice almost trembling.

“I just don’t wanna lose you because of him.”

That guilt settled heavy in your chest. And even though something inside you wasn’t sure, you nodded slowly.

Noah smiled faintly, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “That’s my girl.”

—

A/N- I’ve written very very much today do you guys prefer me to release my fics tonight or throughout this next week coming up?

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @cherryystemm @realuvrrr @zenithsturniolo @kier-with-a-k @eeyoresturnz @elizasturn @ribread03 @sturnslux3 @costalgirlyr @pizzapocketpocketpizza @arianna1342 @mattsplaything @ed1tssturnn @ivysturnss @ilovemenwithlonghairr @whore4-chrissturniolo

[coichii]

numb to the feeling ★

—(🎧)—> a bet with your friend Felix has you racing a self proclaimed “champion” at street racing. when the race takes an unexpected turn, what happens after that?

pairing - streetracer!chan ♥︎ streetracer!fem!reader

genre - street racer AU, fluff & angst

word count - 3.7k

warnings - cursing, weed, drinking, street racing, descriptions of car crash (blood, injuries, pain, car damage), smoking, honestly too many smoking references, and un edited writing

“So you’re saying if I beat this guy in a race, you’ll pay me $200?” You ask, blowing out a puff of smoky air as you look at Felix.

Felix proposed an idea that if you beat one of his friends in a street race, he’ll pay you a whole $200. Something about him being “too cocky to accept defeat” in some sort of street racing match they had already had.

You agreed of course. You’ve already won over multiple people in the past, even over Felix. You did it as a way to make extra cash on the side of your regular paycheck. Right now though, you’re honestly doing it to buy more weed.

You’ve beat countless people before, becoming a decently well known name in the street racing community in your area. It’s something you’ve been doing for years, and you were confident in it.

“Yeah, but wipe that smile off your face.” Felix jokes, rolling up bits of paper and weed in his hands. “He’s really good.”

“What’s the name of his “really good” racer anyways? You need to tell me more.” You nudge at his shoulder, trying to get a little more information than “this guy” out of him.

“His name is Christopher, but he goes by Chan. He’s a friend of mine.” He tilts his head in confusion at your snicker and immediate laughter.

“Christopher? I’m supposed to be intimidated by someone with that British ass name?” You cackle, and he passes you a jokingly annoyed glare.

“Shut up Y/N. You’re going to choke on your words.” Felix says, puffing out a bit of smoke.

“Yeah right.”

←♥︎→

It’s rather quiet in the streets when you arrive at the spot, only a few people surrounding the area, most of which are drinking beer and betting. It’s early morning in the city, the sound of the usual police sirens and hurried footsteps non existent.

You’ve done this time and time before, the aroma of smoke and alcohol not phasing you. If anything, it excites you.

Felix went with you of course, planning on getting some money off of betting against his friend. He said it was to support you, but you can see that smirk on his face from miles away.

“That’s him, I see his car” Felix says, pointing at the black mustang parked along the intersection. You quickly drive over, heart starting to bubble that delicious excitement feeling you love so much.

There, you see him lying against the door of his car talking to some other people, car keys in hand and you move to get a better look at his face.

He’s…kind of…handsome?

You park and get out of your car, instantly getting met with the fresh brisk air of night time in the city. It’s always a pleasant feeling.

“Hey, you’re Chris— Chan right?” You ask, holding your hand out to shake his when you walk up to him.

Yeah, he’s handsome.

“Yeah, I am. You must be who I’m racing. Y/N, right?” He asks, shaking your hand back. “Felix told me you’re pretty confident.”

“He’s right, I’m pretty confident I’ll beat you tonight.” You smile, and ooo’s break out from the bundle of drunk men behind you.

“All right that’s enough” he says to quiet down their immature cheers and boos. “I’m looking forward to it.”

He walks away at that point, sharing a small smirk of amusement before going to open the door of his car.

You make your way back to your car, fist bumping Felix on the way as he steps back to the sidewalk.

You drive you car up to the starting point, heart starting to race with happiness as a random woman takes her place in the between your cars, a beat up reg flag in her hand.

“Are you ready?” She shouts, the group of people all bundling up in one spot now.

“3…”

“2…”

“1!”

The sound of your engine revving rips through your ears as you hit the gas. Immediately a rush of adrenaline hits your body as you zoom past the intersection, pacing your self as to not mess up your engine.

It’s nothing you haven’t done before, easily overpowering his car and driving past him. You can’t hear the cheers, but you can see blurred images of the crowd as you pass them.

In your rear view mirror, you can see Chan’s car catching up. It puts a smile on your face; too often have you had to deal with boring matches, but this one seems like it could be fun.

You blast through the rest of the road, having multiple times where he almost passes you, but he never does. You know it’s over when you see an area where most of the crowd is congregated and cheers are louder than they usually are.

It was a straight path, so it was easy to clear, and you knew you would win.

Your car comes to a halt, the brakes screeching as the end of the road approaches. The adrenaline is still high, breath un even as Chan comes to a stop behind you.

There are cheers around you as people surround your car, their chatter a mere background noise. After catching your breath, you step out the car and Chan follows behind you.

“Well done, that was impressive.” He says, bringing his hand out to shake yours. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Thank you. That was entertaining.” You smirk, grasping his hand and shaking it. Felix runs up behind you, putting his arm around shoulders.

“So you’ll congratulate her but not me?” He rolls his eyes, putting down a bottle of beer that leaves you wondering where he found it.

“First, I still won that.” Chan responds, making you giggle and elbow Felix in the stomach. “Second, she’s pretty good at racing and pretty herself.”

That you weren’t expecting. It makes your eyes open wider for a moment, a heat rising up your neck. His blonde hair falls infront of his eyes as he pulls out a small phone.

“Could I get your number?” He asks, and your heart rate spikes. You analyze his tone, and he sounds sincere. Plus, you know Felix wouldn’t be friends with jerks anyway.

“Woah woah. You’re just gonna hit on my best friend like that?” Felix asks, removing his arm from around your shoulders and looking at Chan with stern eyes. Chan put his hands up in a joking retaliation, still smiling though and opening on the contacts section of his phone.

“Felix, it’s fine.” You giggle, putting your hand on the shoulder of the slightly annoyed boy. “Yeah, I’ll give you my number.”

Chan smiles deeper in response, handing you his phone as he wiggles his eyebrows at Felix in an attempt to piss him off.

You finish typing in your number, saving your contact as “y/n 🏁” before handing your phone back over to him.

“Hurt her and I’ll kill you.” Felix threatens, pointing at Chan’s eyes with two fingers before pointing them back at himself. “C’mon, I hear sirens. Let’s get out of here.”

Felix nudges your arm and all of a sudden you hear the faint whir of sirens coming your way. In an instant, everyone in the vicinity scurries away, their footsteps racing through the foot of the city as you get back into the car with Felix.

It’s a quiet drive back to your shared apartment, you two not saying much as you look at the window.

It must have been an hour long meeting because the sound of singing birds begins to grace your ears alongside the gentle rising of the warm sun.

You tune out the noise of sirens and early morning traffic from those with early morning jobs and those who never sleep. For right now, you bask in the peacefulness of the morning, trying to rest from the repercussions from your restless night.

The moment you’re about to drift off into a blissful sleep, your phone beeps.

It’s Chan.

new message from: xxx•xxx•xxxx

—

xxx•xxx•xxxx: hey

xxx•xxx•xxxx: just wanted to text you so you could save my number

you: oh, ty !

chan🏁: no problem ;)

—

He’s flirty. You can’t hide the fact that it made your heart beat just a tad bit faster than it should be for a man you just met.

He’s attractive, but you know nothing about him. You’d ask Felix but knowing him he’d might rather rip his own hair out than listen to his best friend show romantic interest to his other friend.

It’s a thought that washes out soon, the feel of the sun slowly creeping up on your skin enough to knock you out on your way to dreamland.

←♥︎→

“Hey, here’s that 200$ I owe you.” Felix’s voice sounds in your ear as you stir awake.

It’s probably 3pm by now, and a headache lines your face. Fuck. Okay, maybe you shouldn’t have smoked then stayed out until 5am.

“Mhm, thanks.” You grumble, grabbing the thin bundle of cash and stashing it straight into your wallet.

“You beat him with more ease than I thought.” Felix starts, sitting down on the small couch you were currently lazing on. “Honestly, I was gonna bet on him at first, but I got there too late.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” you scoff, rolling your eyes jokingly. “Didn’t you trust me?”

“I did but Chan is pretty good. He wins like 13 out of 15 races.” Felix responds, and you’re eyes widen.

“Damn. I’m really just that good then, huh.” You snort, and Felix slaps you playfully on the shoulder in response.

You’re genuinely surprised though. 13 out of 15 is a pretty good ratio, it’s definitely better than yours. He might as well make that shit his profession.

“Do you like him?” Felix asks, breaking the silence that took over. A flush re enters your cheeks as you re adjust your shirt.

“Well, I just met the guy so I don’t know. But he seems charming and attractive.” You tell the truth, crossing your legs in an attempt to get more comfortable.

“He is a good guy. I hope you get to know him well.” He smiles, getting up from the couch and leaving you alone with your own thoughts.

And get to know him well you did.

You guys started talking frequently, hanging out as regular friends by day and competitive street racers by night. The more you got to know him the more you got to slowly melt away his outer shell and see more of his inner personality.

When you first met him, you saw him as this flirty but genuine person. A guy that is reliable, but you’ll never truly get to see the real and full version of. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

You quickly learned just what type of guy he was. Someone who was gentle, caring, kind, and every synonym there is for loving. He let you break down the walls he placed around his sweet, sweet soul, and that soul is the one you ended up falling deeply in love with.

It went from only seeing eachother at big night time events to going over to each-others place every week.

He started being your company when Felix was busy, started being someone you could run to when you were going through a hard time, started being someone who you could rely on.

And you loved it.

Right now, it’s 2am and you just got home from an extremely long night shift at the bar you work at that Chan generously drove you home from.

All you want to do is go to sleep, skipping a shower and settling with just changing clothes before plopping down on your warm and fuzzy bed. Your eyes were on the verge of closing before you get a ping sound coming from your phone.

new message from: chan ☺️

—

chan☺️: hey y/n

chan☺️: i know you’re tired, but i wanna race you tomorrow.

chan☺️: 50$ if you beat me, and 50$ if I beat you. ;)

you: running low on money aren’t you?

chan☺️: that’s not important 😅

you: sure, downtown?

chan☺️: we race there all the time and you always beat me

chan☺️: let’s do inner city this time

—

Your stomach drops, fingers suddenly stopped to a halt on the keyboard.

You never felt comfortable racing in the inner city. Not only was police presence higher, but the roads were very windy, something you didn’t have much experience with.

Most of the races you took on were straight roadways with the occasional turn. This one would be mostly bended road.

Your heart starts racing at the idea of needing to turn sharply while going 90 miles per hour while one of your best friends sneaks up close behind you.

What if your car looses control? What if you overshoot a turn and fly off the road? What if a car suddenly comes rushing through the lanes without you noticing? What if you get hurt? What if Chan…

—

you: I’m not to sure about that, chan

you: I think that’s too risky for me

chan☺️: it’s not that risky

chan☺️: you’re experienced, you beat me so many times

you: that’s true, but still the roads all bendy

you: im not experienced with that

chan☺️: we don’t have to go too fast if you don’t want to

chan☺️: but please give it a try?

—

Something turns in your stomach. He’s usually not this pushy. Most of the time if there’s something you even show the slightest discomfort towards, he backs away before you can even say it. This is out of character.

Your brows furrow, your mind running scenarios as for what is causing him to ask you like this. You know chans charecter, you know he’s one of the most kind hearted people you know (second to only Felix).

What ever it is, he must have a good reason.

you: hmm

you: will you buy me food afterwards if I do?

chan☺️: yes ma’am

chan☺️: anything you want

you: fineeee

you: I guess it’s okay

chan☺️: see you tommrow, y/n😊

—

You sigh, sloppily putting your phone down on the nightstand next to your bed. You’re two tired to really understand what you just signed up for.

Drifting off, your eyes finally close, your texts of approval sitting idly on your phone as morning rolls in.

←♥︎→

“Hey, ynnie.” Chans sweet voice rings through your ears as you step out your car, his arms enveloping you in a hug as soon as he sees you.

There’s a small crowd around the area, two cars doing donuts as a way to keep the mass of people entertained as you arrived.

It’s around 1 am, the sounds of sirens distant and the crowds low. This place might be the inner city, but it’s not that busy at night. The perfect terrain for your average low stakes race.

But this isn’t low stakes for you, far from it. The usual excitement and enthusiasm you usually felt is no more. Instead your heart is filled with the feeling of nervousness and anxiety.

There’s no backing out of it now, especially in front of a crowd of 30 something people and the man you desperately want. All you can do now is suck it up and hug him back.

“Hi, Channie.” You greet, trying to keep the quiver you felt in your throat choked back. He smiles at you, reaching his hand out for you to shake.

“Let’s try our best.” You take his hand in yours, squeezing it before repeating his words back to him.

He lets go, walking back to his car and reving its engine. With a heavy sigh, you walk towards yours.

A random person steps in front of the middle of your cars, getting everyone’s attention before starting the count down.

Here goes nothing.

“3…”

“2…”

“1!”

Your car goes zooming, but not as fast as you usually do. Normally, you break 80 to 90 instantly, but you’re just under 75, allowing for Chan to overtake you immediately.

The first turn comes up, and your cars speed drops, allowing you to make the curve in-front. Chan keeps his speed decently stable, now becoming out of your view, something that’s never happened before.

When you see his car again, it’s because he’s slowing down for another bend in the road. To catch up to him, you speed up slightly, but your foot slips out of nerves, and suddenly your flooring it.

Your car skirts out of control, your hands freezing up on the steering wheel as you aim straight for a ditch.

“This is it.” You think, eyes closing in fear, trying to brace yourself but being met with the inability to move. You’re frozen. You’re done.

Your car suddenly slams into the ditch, the sound of crunching and bending metal inaudible as your body is met with the force of the collision.

The feeling rings through your body, the power of the car being forced to a halt hitting before the pain does, adrenaline on the high.

The car rests to a stop, your heaving breathing slowly fading away into labored breaths, the expansion of your lungs feeling more like a chore than an everyday bodily function.

It’s not long until your vision starts to black out, ears rings and limbs going limp. The only noises you can hear being the pinging of the car and the faint noise of footsteps and yelling. It’s a familiar voice.

Wait… Chan?!

“Holy.. y/n! y/n are you okay?” His distant voice yells, his tone laced with fear and panic. You can only focus on this for a moment, a static filter taking over the functions of your brain.

“Y/n! Shit.. that’s a lot of blood. Can you hear me?!?” Chan screams, trying to get through the crushed door that might as well be a brick wall.

“Fuck, im coming. Don’t worry, I’m coming. Somebody call 911!” He yells impossibly loud, eliciting a scratchy groan out of your throat. He turns around, expecting to see a crowd of people, but it’s deserted. Everyone one is gone.

Everything fades out, the pressure of trying to keep your head of ceasing as you fall completely limp.

“I’m coming, y/n. I’m com…”

←♥︎→

Fuck. Everything hurts. Your eyes can barely crack open, everything blurry and sore. Every noise is too loud, every light is too bright.

When you finally manage to open your eyes, you’re met with a hospital room, white & blue colors flooding your eyes along side the smell of saline solution.

When you recognize your surroundings, you notice the feeling of a heavy weight on the left side of your stomach. Cracking your eyes open wide, you recognize the blonde figure besides you.

There laying on top of you is Chans tired figure, his head buried deep into his arms that lay on your stomach. At the feeling of your quickened breathing, he lifts his head up and faces you.

His eyes, tired and bloodshot widen slightly, his mouth becoming agape at the sight of you. His hands tremble and reach up to your face, slowly caressing the bruised at cut skin.

“Y/n..?” He asks, voice genuinely unsure if it’s you. You reach your hand out to his, watching his eyes slowly brim with tears as you weakly grab it.

“Hi, Chan.” You speak, voice a little bit raspy from un use. “Why are you crying.”

“Oh my god, y/n. You’re okay!” He whimpers, burrowing his head into your chest as tears slip from his eyes.

“Ouch! Watch out Channie.” You groan, sucking your teeth at the sharp feeling of pain alongside your ribs. Chan jumps off of you, whispering a small sorry before continuing to speak.

“Y/n, I’m so glad you’re okay. When you crashed I was so… there was a lot of blood. Fuck, I never should have pressured you. I’m so so so sorry.” He wailed, clutching on your shirt as if you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Chan, it’s not your fault. I should’ve said no, it’s on-“

“No. No don’t apologize. You said you were nervous and I told you it’ll be okay. I should have just taken your word for it. I didn’t even want you to race me for some stupid 50$.” He bashfully admits, a red blush appearing on his cheeks.

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head to the side before wincing in pain. Chan brings his hand to your neck, rubbing a few comforting circles on it before answering your question.

“I didn’t race you to get 50$ out of you, that was my way of getting you to come. I wanted to race you because afterwards… I wanted to ask you out and I had no better way of doing it. But still, I shouldn’t have lied to you and I’m so-“

You cut him off by placing a soft kiss on his lips, his hands going still on your neck. Once he registers whats happening, he gently kisses you back.

His lips lock on to yours, hands moving to caress your cheeks. It’s soft and warm, drowning out all the soreness of your body and instead having you feel borderline euphoric.

You can feel his hot tears cascading down his face as they land on your cheeks. You gently wipe them away, pressing further into the kiss before pulling away.

“I’ve liked you for a very long time, Chan. Stop apologizing.” You whisper, moving your hand to ruffle his hair.

“God, you’re a fucking saint.” He says, voice laced gratitude. He places another kiss on your lips, working small pecks across your face as you giggle.

“Jeez, I can’t get enough of you.” Chan whines, pouting as you push him away to catch your breath.

Just as you were about to kiss him again, your phone goes off with all sorts of messages from Felix. Oh shit… you forgot he’s your emergency contact.

“Well, if you want to kiss me.” You start, showing Chan your phone as his skin turns pale. “You’re going to have to do it before Felix gets here and kills you.”

At that he pulls you into to his arms gently as to not bring back the soreness in your body.

“That, I can certainly do.”

[callalillywrites]

Henry's Matchmaking Efforts

Written for @flufftober's Fluff Bingo. A3 - Craft Fair.

Spencer Reid Masterlist | Fluff Bingo Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 1747

Summary: Henry decides to use his school's craft fair to try and set up his favorite godfather, Spencer, with one of his favorite teachers. His ploy seems to work, too.

Warnings: mentioned illness; awkward Spencer and reader moments; sweet Reader; smitten Spencer; matchmaking menaces - Henry and Will; lmk if I missed any

A/N: This prompt was originally going to be Aaron Hotchner's, but a poll gave it to Spencer instead. I can't say I'm disappointed, either, as this turned out so cute and so fun to write especially with Henry playing his little matchmaking role.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

*****

"Uncle Spence, you made it," Henry shouted, his happiness apparent. He raced between the groups of people, easily dodging elbows and knees, in his pursuit of his destination. That happened to be one Spencer Reid, godfather extraordinaire.

Spencer couldn't help the smile that tugged across his lips, bending down and catching Henry in his arms. "I couldn't miss this when you invited me as sweetly as you did. Where's your mom?"

"Dad came with me. Mom's home with Michael. He's sick."

That pulled Spencer's previous smile into a frown for a moment.

Will, who'd been watching his son and his friend interact, stepped in. "Michael's fine. Just a little stomach bug going around school. Henry had it last week. He's fine to be here. We both are."

It was no secret how Spencer felt about germs, even those involving those he cared about.

Hearing that nothing serious was going on, Spencer allowed himself to relax. His attention returned to Henry as he asked, "So, what should we see first? I don't know that I've been to a craft fair like this one before. You'll have to show me how it's done. I don't want to miss anything."

Henry beamed at the idea of teaching Spencer something. His godfather was so smart, he knew, and it wasn't everyday that Spencer told someone he didn't know something. Knowing just the place they'd start, he grabbed Spencer's hand and tugged him forward.

No words were exchanged as Henry was on a mission, but a look of amusement passed between Spencer and Will.

Spencer didn't have a clue what Henry had in mind first, but he never would've considered the refreshment table set off to one side. Across the banner, he read the school's name that Henry attended. Compared to the other booths set up nearby, he didn't spy any type of signage broadcasting prices.

Henry called out a name, but Spencer couldn't quite make it out over the noise echoing through the large space. He hadn't thought to ever forget the sounds of a gym, and he hadn't really. Just that the memories had managed to fade at the edges a bit.

All Spencer knew was one moment Henry was holding his hand, and the next, he's watching Henry tugging someone from the booth until they stood in front of Spencer. Until you stood in front of him. You wore the sweetest smile Spencer could remember anyone ever wearing. When it flashed towards him, he almost forgot how to breathe. You were breathtaking.

"So, you're the famous Uncle Spence we hear so much about," you said, holding out your hand while also introducing yourself. You retracted your hand just as quickly, but your face never lost its smile. Settling for a small wave, you asked, "Are you enjoying the craft fair, Dr. Reid?"

Spencer's brain refused to work. You had him off-kilter with the knowledge you've shown in the few moments of time you've shared with him. How did you know he didn't like to touch others, especially strangers? How did you know he went by doctor rather than mister?

As if guessing his thoughts, you leaned a bit closer but not too close and said only loud enough for him to hear, "Henry talks about you a lot. We hear about your adventures every week. You're quite impressive. Henry tells us you're a real-life hero."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Spencer stammered.

His cheeks warmed at Henry's praise of him, but more so, at the way you continued to look at him. He could make out the open curiosity you had for him, but he couldn't tell if it was genuine interest one feels for another or if you were merely being polite for a student's sake. A part, bigger than he'd ever admit aloud, of him wanted it to be the former, but his experience almost assured it was the latter.

"Hm, I wouldn't discount yourself too much," you rebutted softly, your eyes leaving his face to inspect the rest of him. He really hoped you wouldn't find him lacking, grateful Hotch and Morgan weren't standing next to him. Will was more than enough to make enough comparisons. You must've liked what you saw because your smile never faltered though your attention shifted to Henry. "Wanna grab your uncle one of the cookies I promised to save just for him?"

Henry nodded and dashed behind the booth's large table.

Spencer could make out the containers from the store you'd bought the cookies. One of them held a couple leftovers that weren't available to others. The others had been set out around the table in a display meant to entice fair-goers until the supply had been depleted.

Henry raced back with the plastic package, handing it to you.

You popped it open and motioned for Spencer to take the cookies. "Only hands that might've grazed them were mine, and I wore gloves after washing my hands thoroughly. Can't be too careful nowadays."

The way you hadn't made him feel weird for his germaphobia endeared you to him all the more. It was the reason he didn't hesitate in picking up the cookies while murmuring his thanks. As politeness dictated, he took a bite and followed it up with, "There are really good."

"They're the best store-bought ones you can find," your eyes sparked with mischief as you added, "but you should really try the ones I bake sometime."

The cookie he'd been chewing lodged itself, causing him to choke.

Will came to his rescue, thumping his back until he could take in normal breaths again.

You, the sweet temptress you were, held out a small cup of lemonade from the booth you manned for the school. Your face had contorted into something more akin to someone feeling shame or apologetic of their actions as you murmured, "I didn't mean for that to sound the way it did. I mean, I do bake some great treats, but I'm not trying to insinuate anything. We are surrounded by families and little ones after all."

Spencer quickly shook his head. Even if he'd only met you, he knew enough from what Henry had told him to know you spoke the truth. Everything about you screamed how much you adored the kids, calling out to the ones you recognized. It didn't matter you held a conversation with him or any other adults that happened along. You had kind words for everyone that passed and encouragement for the few students helping you run the booth.

As if realizing he'd been monopolizing your time, he took a step back.

"I should let you get back to it," he said, grabbing up Henry's hand, "but maybe we can stop by again. See if you have anything left before we head out."

Your smile glowed once more as you nodded. "I'd really like that. Maybe you could tell me what about the booths I can't see, too. I've heard some good things, but I won't really get the chance to explore today."

"It's all weekend, isn't it?" Will asked, surprising both you and Spencer as he hadn't really said anything up until then.

You nodded.

Will continued, "Are you working the booth tomorrow?"

You shook your head.

At your answer, Will's grin came out as he eyed Spencer for a moment before turning back to you, "Then, maybe you and Spencer here could explore the fair together. That is if Spencer here wouldn't mind coming back and seeing it a second time. What do ya say, Spence?"

"Oh, I couldn't ask that of you. That would be too much," you protested, but Spencer was already saying, "Um, yeah, I could do that."

Will clapped. "Great. Now that's settled. Henry, why don't we let them sort themselves out, then we can pick Uncle Spence back up in say another few minutes?"

Henry quickly agreed, taking off for a booth not too far away. It held a bunch of crocheted plush animals that might appeal to his younger brother.

Will followed after him after shooting Spencer a wink and saying, "Don't bungle it now."

When the two of you were alone, you risked touching Spencer's sleeve. His gaze dropped to where your warmth seeped through his thin shirt before you hastily took it away again. He missed it as soon as you did. That surprised him the most.

"Please, don't think I was fishing. I wouldn't want to impose on what's surely limited time to yourself. You don't have to come back tomorrow if you don't want to."

"But what if I want to," Spencer said over your rambling.

It was enough to have you snapping your mouth shut in brief shock. It was also enough to have Spencer wondering if he'd somehow overstepped or misread your earlier possible interest in him.

Only when your smile blossomed once more did he breathe out a soft sigh.

"I'd really like that but only if you really and truly want to."

Spencer allowed his own smile to come out as he said, "I really want to."

The two of you might've continued to smile at each other if one of your students hadn't called out to you.

"I better get back to it, but please, stop by before you leave. We can exchange numbers, then we can secure plans for tomorrow after I'm done for the day." You took a step back toward the booth behind you, but you didn't get far before you added, "I really am glad I got the chance to meet you, Dr. Reid."

Spencer offered his own sentiments, watching as you backed up until you bumped the booth. He bit his lip lest his smile grow wider at how cute you were.

It took another minute before he, too, moved away, intent on catching up with Will and Henry. After all, he had a new job to scope out the best booths to show you tomorrow. Maybe even spend a few minutes considering his options to prolong his time with you tomorrow, including possible dinner plans.

Spencer had known Henry had a special reason to ask him to his school's annual craft fair, but he hadn't counted on you being that reason. He definitely hadn't considered how much you would end up affecting him or the turn of events that took place.

But, he couldn't say he regretted them as he spared a final glance at you and your booth.

Nope, no regrets at all.

[childlike-fire]

when i went to a concert and the lights were purple and the music was loud and everyone was together and happy and the outside world didn't exist, it was just that moment, happy and free, and I'm agnostic but damn me if that didn't feel like god.

holding hands with your friends, leaning your head on their shoulder or laying in their lap, hugs and laughter and watching the excitement in their expression as they talk about something they love, rambling on about things you both like, making plans to hang out again, showing eachother things that made you think of them.

riding home in the schoolbus after a field trip and everyone around you is talking and laughing and it's loud but not in a disturbing way and you put in your earphones and play music as you look out the window and watch the road pass by, but you can still hear everyone else laughing and yelling and chatting and that kinda feels like god too.

trying out your old paints that you got from the dollar store a long time ago and painting random colours in a notebook, then finding azure blue and seeing blue like you've never seen it before, realizing the shade is just such a perfect one and it satisfies something deep inside you.

looking up shades of red online and finding blood orange, imagining sinking your teeth into a slice (even though you hate oranges, the texture is too stringy and juicy) and feeling the wet drip down your face like blood, then remembering the fact that it wouldn't work like that and laughing at yourself, not in malice but with light humor.

that deep feeling when you feel like you don't belong on this plain of being and that you were meant to be something bigger, something more than whatever you are right now. feeling disconnected from your body, not in a dysphoric way, but as if it doesn't belong to you, like it's someone else who you just happen to share an existence with, seeing your body and your brain and your face as different things with their own thoughts and feelings and wants and seeing yourself as just something in the back of your metaphorical mind that sees everything yet is able to do nothing, that's only let out sometimes to write down everything you feel poetically because you know that there isn't any other way to express it and damn this language is so limited in words yet you can't bring yourself to learn another one yet.

but idk gender is fake

no pressure tags + consider urself tagged if u see this idk I don't check my mutuals so idk URLs😭

@icefireanimates @beechaotic @xx-obliviousfantasy-xx

making a reblog game.

what's your gender/personality, described only in non gendered words?

I'll go first, dirty cigs, shots, animal bones, the desert, and wasps.

@catcvtz, @witchyboy13, @anomymous1, @sparky4577, @evry1h8s-me, @motorvehiclecollision, @boughtmender, @enarealsh, uhhhhhh, and anyone else who wants to.

[heartyluv]

♕ ₊⁺🕯⋆.˚ꫂ ၴႅၴ

Note: I think I’ll be writing Vampire Rafayel after this one. I just wanted to let the ones who are looking for it to know how soon they can expect it. Zayne is dominating the poll, so I hope this meets your expectations! ♡

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT Interact!!

Warning: Smut, angst if you squint, Zayne is cheating on his wife (not you)

Word Count: 3,470

Summary: When Zayne gets word about your desire to leave, he knows that he cannot let that happen.

King!Zayne/Servant!Reader

Zayne has always hated parties. The fake smiles, the overwhelming crowd of people who are only here for show, and the talking. By the gods, he couldn’t understand why so many people wanted to move their lips so much.

Sure, he was king. Talking is just another thing tacked onto the long list of duties he’s expected to do. But, in a time where people are supposed to be having fun and mingling, he didn’t believe it was necessary—at least not for him. Even if it was a celebration dedicated to him for his birthday.

It’s not often that he goes into town, so when he does, the townspeople love to cater to their ruler. Though, had his mother not insisted on it, he would be in the comfort of his chambers right now. She always says, “A King will never be equal to his people, but it is crucial that they see it as such in order for you to keep their loyalty and trust.” His father did it during his reign—made the people view him as more than the one who bears the crown.

It’s why they didn’t have any concerns or issue with his father passing the crown on to his only son. The people firmly believed he would be just like him, and they were right. Somewhat.

Like his father, Zayne protects his kingdom. He puts his people and their needs first, keeps their economy boosting and wealthy, as well as knowing how and when to be stern, brutal, and commanding when it’s necessary. But, where Zayne’s father was boisterous and a loud man who welcomed any and all engagement with open arms, Zayne was more cold and shut off. At least, that’s how the people who didn’t know him personally, viewed him.

Very, very few people knew how loving and caring Zayne could be. But, there was only one person in the world who has actually felt what it was like to experience that behavior from him. Only one woman who had it. Owned it. And it wasn’t the woman he married a little over two years ago to solidify an alliance.

It was you. The servant girl who’s been around his family since he was a child. Your mother worked for Zayne’s parents and when she got pregnant and had you, they had no problem with the small girl running around to help her mother fulfill her duties as best as she could once you were older.

You always made Zayne feel better. When he was scolded more often as he was being shaped into what his father wanted him to be to eventually be prepared for the role as king, you were always there to console him. When he’d cry because of how many cuts he received in sword practice, your little hands would tend to his wounds.

He used to love his birthday—only because of you. You were there for every celebration. Even if others only saw you as a mere servant doing what she’s supposed to be doing, Zayne saw his friend. And the girl he was unknowingly falling for.

Every time the room got loud and everyone sang him happy birthday, his eyes always looked for you. A genuine smile would decorate his handsome face when he saw you smiling widely and singing along.

Zayne felt like you saw him as more than royalty—and you did. You talked to him like he was a person. You didn’t put him on this pedestal just because of the title he bore and blood in his veins. You let him vent and complain about things that he wouldn’t dare voice aloud to another. You were his safe space. And he was yours, just as much.

He was there for you after you mother had passed away, held you in his arms the night of her funeral. It was that same night where your relationship had been solidified. You were two inexperienced nineteen year olds when you had given him your virginity and he gave his to you. It was foolish of a woman like you to fall for a man like him, but you couldn’t stop yourself from crashing. You didn’t want to.

But it was six years later when Zayne had gotten married to the beautiful princess from the kingdom in the north. You didn’t even find out from him. You found out as you placed a plate in front of his mother for supper and she asked Zayne if he was ready for the arrival of his future bride. You didn’t even look at him. You couldn’t, or else you’d embarrass yourself.

All the nights he was in your bed, all the days he secretly kissed you deliciously in tucked away corridors. In that moment of hearing those words, it all felt like a lie. You wondered if this was your punishment for thinking that he was would ever choose you.

You pulled away with a quickness that gave him whiplash. He understood, he knew it hurt you. But it hurt him that you didn’t even let him explain. You shut him out completely. Only spoke when spoken to, only served, and nothing more.

You hated his wife. Not just because she took the only person you had in this world away from you, but because she was a horrible person. Spoiled, entitled, and insufferable was an exhausting set of words to have to use for a grown woman, but it was unfortunately accurate. The way she commanded respect, belittled the people who have been here longer than she’s been alive, and how she did so without remorse was infuriating.

Zayne corrected her every time and it’s why she stopped doing such behavior in front of him. When he was present, she was respectful and “kind”, but everyone knew better. Zayne was too checked out on your absence in his life to really pay attention to or care about anything other than his duties.

No one dared to approach the king to make complaints about his wife. No matter how much they respected Zayne and trusted him, there was just certain things common folk didn’t do.

Zayne tried to remain present in the moment, but all he could notice was the fact that you weren’t here. It’s been too many birthdays without you, now. His wife sat next to him, relishing in the praise as if this was about her.

The town’s courtyard was beautiful, streamed with lanterns and torches with large green trees swaying in the warm summer wind. His eyes scanned the crowd of dancing people and the feast of food that they gladly enjoyed. Lost in his thoughts, he freezes for a moment when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

He looks up and behind him at his mother who has a half smile on her face. Despite Zayne’s father dying shortly after he was crowned king, his mother’s grace and kindness never faltered.

“May I speak with you for a moment?” she leans down to whisper. Zayne nods, excusing himself.

She takes him to a tree, standing beneath it and looking up to the large bright moon. “Is everything alright?” Zayne speaks.

“That’s up to you to decide, my son.”

Zayne’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. His mother reveals a folded up piece of paper and hands it to him. It’s silent as he reads.

I can’t stay here, not anymore. I can’t watch him hold her hand, kiss her wretched lips. I can’t sit around until the day she’s pregnant with his child, taking another thing that should’ve been mine, away. I’ve lost my home twice now. Maybe it’s time I go find and make a new one on my own. I knew better, I always have. But just for once, I thought… Writing this is a bad idea. If someone finds it, especially his wife, answers will be sought after. Knowing me, I’ll tell the truth because no one should be punished for my actions. And they’ll kill me. I’ll be punished for wanting back what was mine. But people like me don’t get the good ending, do we? I must trash this, but I can’t find it in me to do so. I can’t even stop writing. It’s so many thoughts and words I want to release, but I can’t. All I know is that that I’m leaving. And soon. He can’t know. I doubt he’ll try to stop me, I’m no longer his concern. I haven’t been for years now. And maybe, maybe it’s what I deserve for daring to dream.

So many emotions dance across his face as he reads the words on the page. Sorrow, hurt, confusion, and then anger.

“How did you—”

“She’s been more,” she takes a moment to find the right words. “…distant lately. Failing to complete things she never failed to do before, and not as talkative. I promised her mother to look after her before she passed. She served our family for too long for me to not make sure that I do so. I was concerned for her well being, so I checked her quarters while she was away and discovered this today. After I found this, I knew that it must be brought it to you.”

“I never knew that you were aware about us,” Zayne admits. “It was never my intention—”

“Hush up, now,” his mother interrupts. “I’ve known since you were children that she was going to be your weakness. You were happier before you married that dreadful excuse of a woman, but you made a decision as king when you did it, not Zayne. Let Zayne take control in this moment.”

“You’re allowing me to chase after another woman although I am married?” he questions.

“No,” she smiles. “I’m allowing myself to be a mother to my son. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s just for a moment. Just because a woman is your wife, that doesn’t mean she’s supposed to be.” His mother takes his hand and speaks your name. “Don’t let her leave, Zayne. Help me protect her.”

The muscle in his jaw jumps as he thinks. He has nothing in him telling him to stay put, to not chase after you. It’s when his mother promises to make an excuse for his disappearance that he doesn’t waste anymore time getting on a horse and riding up to the castle to make sure you can’t get away.

The castle halls are barren as he searches for you. He doesn’t find you in the dining room, kitchen, the castle’s courtyard, not even in your quarters. Mother just found this. I saw her today. She can’t be gone already, he thinks frantically.

He checks several other rooms before stumbling into the library. It’s dark, only the light of the moon helping him see. Since there’s no noise or indication of someone being here, he decides to leave and try somewhere else, but a golden glow of light in the corner of his eye stops him, carefully tucked behind a few shelves.

He follows it and when he sees you curled up in a large plush chair with two candles beside you and a book in your hands, his heart settles. His presence makes you look up and your eyes widen.

“Your majesty—”

“Don’t,” he stops you. Ever since you separated yourself from him, you haven’t called him by his name. In a world where he rarely hears it without a title being attached, he never knew how much he’d miss it falling from your lips.

You swallow, nodding and averting your gaze. “I did not mean to cause any harm. I’ll retreat to my room immediately.” He watches with narrow eyes as you shut the book and put it back where it belongs. Your sweet scent swims behind you as you past him, covering his skin in goosebumps.

He grasps your arm in your attempt to grab the candles. Frozen by his touch, you don’t move a muscle.

“You’re trying to leave me,” he announces. Shock. It’s the only emotion you feel. It then shifts to frustration.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you deflect. He pulls the paper from his pocket and throws it down to the floor. You watch the parchment settle on the pristine rug, your handwriting just as clear as your message.

“You were in my room,” you snap.

“It matters not. You’re trying to leave and you kept it to yourself because you knew I would never allow it.”

“You don’t get to make demands, not when it comes to me.”

“As your king—”

“As Zayne, you don’t get to command anything of me,” you say through a trembling breath. “What I choose to do, none of it matters to you. You made that clear.”

He doesn’t miss that this is the first time you’ve said his name in years. Even under the circumstances, even through your anger, it does something to him. “I won’t let you leave.”

“You left me first!” you exclaim as your voice cracks. “You—you told me you loved me, that you’d keep me safe. You promised that you’d never break my heart, and then not only did you, but you gave yours to someone who doesn’t deserve it!”

“My heart is still owned by you,” he admits softly. “What I did—I had no choice.”

“You have plenty and even with what was in front of you, you still made the wrong one.”

He snatches you closer and you press against his hard body, chest to chest. Your thin ivory nightgown is all the fabric that’s separating his eyes from your naked body that only he knows so well, other than yourself.

“I chose what will be beneficial to my kingdom. A kingdom I have vowed to ensure will remain standing strong long after I am gone.” His breath is warm against your face as his eyes bore into yours.

“That’s not my problem.”

“It isn’t,” he confirms. “I never made it such. But you matter to me. You always have, no matter what decisions I make.”

“You’re so fucking selfish.” You can barely speak. Your heart just hurts so much.

“I am.” His hand comes up to caress your jaw and his fingers gently glide across your lips. “I want to keep you. I want to put my baby in your stomach, a crown on your head, have you in my bed, bury myself in your essence, make you my queen, but people like me don’t get what we want.” The reference to your note makes your eyes burn with tears.

But even still, your breath shudder because his declarations has your core aching. You mustn’t falter, though. “Let me go.”

“Nothing could ever make me let you go without a fight. Not even you.”

“How dare you try and declare anything to me with a ring on your finger? Her ring?”

He looks down at his hand. He doesn’t hesitate to pull the simple band off and throws it across the room. You gasp as it clatters aimlessly in the dark. “Do you know,” he sighs as he trails your neck. “I can only tolerate sex with her if I think about you? If I think about how good your cunt used to suck me in?”

“You think telling me how you fuck her will make me break?” You wish your will was a strong as you portray because you know you’re bound to fall apart.

He smiles. “You’re already broken.” He slides the thin strap of your gown down your shoulder. Stepping closer, you allow his warm lips to kiss the prickling skin of your neck.

“You and I?” Another kiss. “We own each other. Your body remembers who it belongs to, it always will.”

“Stop,” you breathe.

“Make me,” he dares, pulling down the other strap. Your gown shows no resistance, the simple garment falling to your feet. Your nipples harden and your cunt pulses with desire. You’re soaked, you know it. Only he can do that to you, even when you’re supposed to hate him.

You still plan on leaving, despite this. Perhaps it’s in your interest to just enjoy it. One last time.

You throw yourself on him, kissing him hard and roughly ripping his shirt open. He matches your strength and determination, roughly grasping your hair as his tongue moves inside your mouth.

There’s no time to be gentle and patient. No time to show care and devotion. This is pure, unadulterated need between the both of you.

He lifts you, walking the short distance to a shorter shelf. Swiping all the contents off the top, books and small statues hit the floor. He places you on top of the surface and you frantically pull at his hair and his clothing. All the while, your kiss never stops and it never loses its passion.

He’s just as impatient as you while you tug at his pants to get them down. With heavy breaths and erratic movements, he grabs your hips hard to make sure you’re at the edge. He pulls his cock out, looking into your pretty and lustful eyes as he enters you for the first time again in years.

He whimpers into your mouth, knees nearly buckling after being welcomed back into the only place that makes him happy. The only proper way to fuck you right now is hard—is fast. He holds your legs up, thrusting in and out of your pussy with all his pent up emotions that’s he’s been forced to suppress for years.

“Zayne…” you cry out, eyes watering at all the memories. All the times he’s made you feel like this. All the times he made you feel like the only girl that mattered in the world before he put a ring on another.

He watches how his cock is bathed in your sweet juices, how the candlelight makes his length glisten as it uses your slick and his precum to fuck you with ease.

“I miss you,” he whispers, looking up from the erotic visual. “Don’t leave me. I won’t make it.”

Your hand comes up to glide into his hair, your mouth falling open as he gets deeper. If someone were to walk in, they’d find their king fucking a servant. It would ruin him and his name. But he doesn’t care and that should move you, yet it worries you. It makes you concerned for your life and wellbeing. In order for you to survive, you need to let him go. But for him, you need to stay.

“I won’t be your secret,” you say through a moan. “Oh, fuck.. Zayne, I’m close.. I’m so close.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t have an answer right now. All he knows is that he needs you here, however that may look. His forehead falls to yours and his hips start to loose their rhythm as he gets closer, too.

He braces his hands on the shelf as you hold your knees up and he fucks you so fast that it makes your head spin. The way he grinds against your clit is what sends you over the edge first, getting close and biting down on his shoulder to keep your sound down. You cry out as you clench around him, falling apart in front of the man who’s already broken you before.

He pulls out fast and his cum shoots out almost immediately, landing on your stomach. He pumps himself in his hand and you watch the cloudy liquid trail down your heated flesh. Your breasts rise and fall while you try to catch your breath.

He tucks himself back into his pants, not bothering to perfect his attire. He finds a small runner along an end table, pulling it off and using it to wipe you clean. After helping you slide your nightgown back on, he cages you in as you remain seated on the shelf.

“Give me time,” he whispers. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll figure it out.”

“Oh, Zayne,” you sigh, cupping his cheek in your hand. He nestles into your touch like he’s touch starved. “You’re too smart. If there was a way, you would’ve found it by now.”

“Just, promise me,” he exclaims, shutting his eyes at the outburst of his emotions. “Promise me you’ll give me a little more time to try.”

Your heart thuds rapidly. “I won’t promise you anything.” Your eyes dance across his face. “But for now… I will stick around.”

He smiles sincerely once he looks back up at you again. “I can work with that.”

“You have no choice but to, Your Majesty,” you tease.

He kisses your lips once more. “Oh, and,” you smile softly, rubbing your thumb across his lip. “Happy birthday, Zayne.”

For some reason, that gives him hope. Something he hasn’t had in a long time. And with it, he believes he’ll really find a way to give you and him your true happily ever after.



[dailyevans26]

he sets the tone

pairing: Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x F!Resident!Reader summary: Dr Michael Robinavitch has had better days at work, Dr Cassidy Miller is determined they make it through. word count: 1.8k a/n: i have not written fanfic in years so please be gentle. have loved noah wyle ever since i stumbled upon er based on my parents rec and ever since watching the panic attack episode knew i had to write something, edited with a glass of wine so you've been warned. i will not apologise for how purely indulgent this is, oc looking after robby during and post panic attack, established relationship, oc is early 30's, robby is late 40s in my world. might be a small follow up or other adventures with cassidy and robby if there is demand. please also enjoy the little er easter eggs

✩☽

“Dana, have you seen Robby?”

The charge nurse halted, her eyes still darting around the Pitt. The aftermath of the shooting continued to revolve. Patients were scattered across chairs and in beds, doctors, nurses and med students still trying to mop up the mess. Cassidy could smell the blood seeping from her scrubs, leaving a metallic taste in her mouth. Scrub change, however, was the least of her concern. 

“Honey, I was going to ask you the same thing.” Their joint look was one of panic. Robby's bad day had started the minute he walked into the Pitt. A breakdown this late in the day was inevitable, if that’s what had happened, but Cassidy knew people still needed help. They needed Robby. It wasn’t the time for their attending to go AWOL. “He took Jake to see Leah,” Dana began.

“You don’t think?” Cassidy interrupted, scanning around the family room for a sign. 

“Go I’ll cover.” Dana gripped her arm reassuringly, before turning away and barking updates. 

Cassidy wove her way through patients and doctors. Head to the ground, trying to avoid being called in on any urgent cases. She passed Abbot and Mohan, both working on patients, their techniques getting progressively unorthodox as supplies continued to run out. Cassidy overheard them call out to Dana, looking for Robby. She had to find him before anyone else realised he was missing. There was already enough panic in the air. 

The anniversary of Adamson’s death was hard on all that knew him. A mass casualty was just the cherry on top. She wasn’t even meant to be working, Robby didn’t want her there to worry him. He was always looking out for her. It had started the day she’d walked into the Pitt, a fresh faced student doctor, completely unaware of the job she was about to begin. Dr Robinavitch, Robby, to friends, had been her senior resident. He was her anchor in a storm, a calming and patient presence in a sea of unease. He believed in see one, do one, teach one. Never afraid to take a student under his wing and give advice not criticism. Under his and Adamson’s tutelage, Cassidy Miller thrived into the doctor she was today. Just as calm, and as patient, steadfast and always ready to help.

They had started as co-conspirators, inside jokes, talks in the stairwell, shared early morning breakfast or late night dinners. He was her friend. But over time they became a team, they were partners. Talking each other off the ledge. Taking whatever feelings they would let out, limited as they were, and helping each other carry the burden. Robby could read Cassidy’s like one would flick through a magazine. Her thoughts and feelings always as clear as day. Cassidy was just as perceptive to Robby’s moods, and had over the years managed to tease more out of him than anyone else. They only thing stopping the two of them: Robby was 15 years her senior. It was what had stopped him making the first move, any move. However, life was short, they both knew that, and they couldn’t keep running from the inevitable (the amount of money on them getting together was also getting out of hand). 

So, when Robby asked Cassidy to not work on the anniversary. She understood. What she still couldn’t determine was why he was determined to work today. It was never going to end well. So, Cassidy had made plans. A bottle of wine and the ingredients for a lovely late night dinner still awaiting use in the fridge at home. She was unsure if, after the day, she’d even have the strength to open the bottle, let alone cook the three course meal she’d planned in her head. She was meant to be at home, waiting to take the weight off Robby’s shoulders after his bad day, as she had done before. As his friend, now as his girlfriend. She wasn’t meant to be covered in blood, striding through the Pitt, heart racing. 

Cassidy knew Robby was taking today particularly hard, losing Leah hadn’t helped. She had watched, stitching up patients in chairs, as he had done everything in his capacity to save her. Watched as Robby did everything he could for Jake, but some days everything just wasn"t enough. She knew he would feel like a failure. No matter how many patients he saved today, none would make up for the ones he lost. He had told her, more than once over the years they had worked together, that doctors that kept their feelings were going to get sick every once in a while, that was just how it is. Sickness always found them in the end. 

The family room had been repurposed again. It was where they were keeping those who hadn"t made it, surrounded by the paintings of green fields and happy woodland creatures. For a room that was meant to bring calm, it only housed trauma for Robby and Cassidy knew it. The grass would have been greener in any other room in the hospital. Taking a breath and steadying herself, Cassidy pushed the door open slowly. She glanced around, assessing the scene, taking in Robby hunched on the floor. One armed wrapped around his knees, a hand covering his face. He was mumbling, self-soothing as he fought to have oxygen in his lungs, shaky breaths heaving from his ribcage.  

Robby was covered in blood. None of it was his, and she knew she looked the same. 

Cassidy lowered herself down, sitting next to him, while still giving enough room for him to breathe. A gentle hand placed on his forearm. 

“Robby, darling, I need you to look at me, you need to breathe.” He continued to mumble, his hand clasping the chain around his neck. 

“Micheal, you’re having a panic attack, c’mon darling, breathe with me.” She sucked in a dramatic breath of air. Robby’s hand found hers as she counted down, slowly exhaling. Cassidy repeated the breathing and the counting, as her breath slowed, so did his. 

“Good, keep breathing.”

“Yo-you need to get back out there, they need you,” He whispered. 

"Right now you need me more.”

“Cassie,” his voice broke. He buried his face into the crook of her neck. “I couldn't save her. I couldn"t save either of them.”

“I know darling, I know.” She ran her hand through his hair. “But you can't think about that now, your team needs you out there, I need you out there, to help us with those who are still waiting.” 

“I can't.” He removed himself from her embrace, finally looking at her. His tears were barely holding in the corner of his eyes. Robby"s head shook, defeat washing over his face. 

“You can.” Cassidy stood, holding out her gloved hand, “Take my hand.” A pause. Grasping her outstretched palm and stood, lightly brushing her away. Cassidy took a step back. Her eyes scanning for any lasting damage, his breathing had returned to normal. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” She asked, her hand resting on his forearm. 

“I'm fine.” He replied shortly, shrugging off her hand. 

“You are not fine.” 

“What would you know?” He bit back. Trying to get a rise out of her, push her away. Cassidy never took the bait.

“Enough.” She stared, her eyes boring into him until the anger seeps away. Robby kept his eyes trained at the door, but his shoulders sagged, head hanging low as a hand found his way through his hair. “We’re going back to work, we’re going to see as many patients as it takes for this shift, this day, to be over and then we are going home, together.”

“I don’t think–” 

“No arguments, as the doctor assigned to your care.” Robby snorted, finally making eye contact and raising an eyebrow. “As the doctor assigned to your care,” she pressed on, “I am putting you under surveillance for 24 hours.” 

“You're going to watch me for 24 hours?”

“I might also watch some TV and some Chinese takeout, but yes, I’m not leaving you alone darling.” 

“I don’t thin– I can’t, I can’t talk about it.”

“I don’t need you to talk to me about any of it Robby, I understand implicitly, and because I understand I"m not going to force you, but I"m also not letting you go home alone, okay?” He nods his head, his hand finding hers again and giving it a squeeze. Cassidy replies with a small smile, standing on tiptoes to gently kiss his forehead. Robby hated all forms of PDA, but considering the circumstances, she was happy to risk it. “C’mon, it’s just another beautiful day to save some lives.” Sarcasm heavily coating her words, as she quoted the inaccurate medical drama. He laughed, eyes rolling. 

“I should have never let you watch Greys Anatomy.” Cassidy lets out a short laugh, walking to the door, glancing over her shoulder. 

“Don't need to now I have a real McDreamy.” Red tints his cheeks, and ears, as the smile on her face grows. 

“Hey,” Robby said, grasping her hand and pulling her towards him, “I love you.” Cassidy wraps her arms around his neck, as his snake around her waist. The hug is brief but full of everything that won’t be said until their day has ended. 

“I know, I love you too.”

The moment the two of them exit the family room, Robby is pulled into another case. Cassidy takes a steadying breath before also returning to the throng, looking for her next case. 

“Hey, Cass, Robby alright?” Abbot asked, pulling her to the side, searching her face intently. His military training had kicked in the second patients started rolling up. Everyone needed to be on their A-game, there was no room for mistakes. They couldn’t have a weak link. 

“I talked to him, he’ll be just fine when this day is over, I think we all will be.” He grinned slightly. 

“Amen to that sister.” He put his hand up for a high-five and her palm collides into his. Jack holds her hand for a second, squeezing with reassurance. Her and him were a team, they would get Robby through this day, together. His hand drops at the sound of yelling. 

“Jesus Gloria!” Robby exclaimed, "The police are still looking, why don’t you go back to your managerial high tower and let the rest of us get back to work." Jack and Cassidy make instant eye contact as Robby storms off. 

“You talked to him huh?” Abbot teased, as you both drop what you’re doing to run to Robby. 

“I did the best I could.”

“Dr Miller, we need help over here!” 

“Go," Jack murmurs, giving her a shove in the right direction, “We’ve got Robby now.” Cassidy let herself be pulled back into the chaos of the Pitt, now wasn’t time to be worrying about Robby, he would be okay. When their shift ended, she would make sure of it. 

✩☽

[jinjooha69]

TOJI X READER !!!

Pairing - Toji fushiguro x reader (dad's friend! AU)

Under His Roof

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Content Warnings (Please Read): Age gap, Power imbalance, Manipulation, Overstimulation , Corruption kink, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Degrading talk, Jealousy sex, First time sex, Size kink, Fingering, Grinding, Dry humping , Possessiveness/Obsession, Breeding kink, Spanking/Discipline, Biting / Marking, Angst & emotional manipulation, Soft/dom moments later on, Minors DO NOT INTERACT (18+ ONLY)

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Chapter 5

The weeks that followed blurred together in quiet chaos. Toji still visited, but not like before. No overnight stays. No long conversations. Just brief appearances—an hour here, a drink there, a laugh with your dad before slipping out the door with a half-smirk in your direction.

But when no one was watching?

His hand would brush along the small of your back as he passed behind you in the kitchen.

Fingertips grazing under your shirt when he reached around you for the remote.

A full palm over your ass once, firm and unapologetic, when you leaned too far over the counter—your breath catching, body freezing, and him pretending like nothing happened.

You didn’t even realize how your thighs pressed together more often now. How your breath hitched every time he walked into the room. He never kissed you. Never took it further than a squeeze, a graze, a lean-in that lingered just a second too long.

And still, you craved it. Hated that you did. Hated how easy it was for him to slip under your skin.

He never said a word about what happened in the laundry room nor in the kitchen. Never brought it up, never teased—not with words. But his eyes… God, his eyes said everything.

That control, that heat, that hunger… it was all still there. Just simmering.

And then, it exploded.

---

You weren’t supposed to be out that night. Your friends had begged, guilt-tripped, even yanked you by the wrist out of the house. One drink, they said. Just something to lift your mood. You hadn’t been yourself lately.

So you went. A bar just outside town. Loud music. Dim lighting. The buzz of drinks loosening your tongue and your grip on common sense.

You didn’t drink often. One shot became two. Two became a fruity cocktail. Then you stopped counting.

Everything felt floaty. Warm. You weren’t even sure why you laughed so much, why your body felt too light for your skin. Someone offered another drink. You took it, giggling. Then someone’s hand touched your waist. You didn’t even see the face. Just smiled politely and turned.

That’s when you felt it.

A shadow. A presence.

A voice, low and furious.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

You blinked, turned—

Toji.

His jaw was tight, eyes wild with a kind of fury you’d never seen before. He looked pissed. Not irritated. Not teasing.

Livid.

He shoved the guy’s hand off your waist without even looking at him. Didn’t yell. Didn’t cause a scene. He just grabbed your wrist—hard—and looked down at you with that voice that made your stomach drop.

“We’re leaving.”

Your mouth opened. “I—Toji, I—”

“Now.”

He didn’t let go of your wrist the whole walk to the car. Your friends didn’t even try to stop him. Maybe it was the look in his eyes. Maybe it was the sheer authority of him—towering, tense, silent.

He drove with one hand on the wheel, knuckles white, the other gripping your thigh.

Not high. Not low.

Just enough to own it.

You stayed quiet. Woozy. Nervous. Excited? Scared? You didn’t know.

When the car finally stopped, you realized you weren’t home.

You were at his place.

---

He slammed the car door shut and came around before you could even think to unbuckle.

“I didn’t say get out,” he snapped when you reached for the door.

You froze. He leaned in through the open window, eyes like dark fire.

“You don’t get to act like a fucking brat in public and pretend I’m not gonna do something about it.”

You blinked. Breath caught.

“I didn’t—”

“Shut up.”

He opened the door himself, grabbed you by the waist, and hauled you out effortlessly. Like you weighed nothing. Like you were nothing but a misbehaving little girl he had to teach a lesson to.

The moment the front door slammed behind you, the air shifted.

His hand was at your jaw, tilting your face up.

“You let men touch you like that?” he whispered, almost disgusted. “Let them get close when you’re drunk and alone?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you meant to do. You know what they see when they look at you like that?”

You stayed silent.

He pressed forward until your back hit the wall.

“They see a mouth to use. A tight cunt to ruin. A pretty, dumb thing who won’t even realize what’s happening until it’s too late.”

You gasped. “Toji…”

His mouth hovered just over yours. “They see what I see. But the difference is—I won’t let anyone else touch what’s mine.”

You froze.

“Yours?”

His eyes darkened. “You didn’t think all that touching was just fun, did you?”

You didn’t answer.

He grabbed your hand. Brought it down to his groin—hard.

“You feel that?” he growled, voice trembling with restraint. “That’s what you do to me. You walk around like you don’t have a clue. But I know you feel it too.”

Your lips parted.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

Silence.

“You can’t, can you?” he smirked. “You want me mad. You like it when I get like this.”

His hands found your waist, thumbs brushing under your top, eyes daring you to move.

And then, his voice dropped lower.

“Let me show you what happens when you act like a bad girl in front of other men.”

“You want to act like a grown-up, running around bars, letting strangers lay hands on you…” Toji’s voice was low and sharp, his breath brushing against your cheek, “...then maybe you’re ready to be treated like one.”

He leaned in close — lips almost touching, but never quite there — his palm sliding slowly up your waist. Not gentle. Not harsh. Just firm. Claiming.

“You know what I should do?” he murmured, eyes burning into yours. “I should put you over my knee for how you acted tonight.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out.

He smiled — not kind, not amused. Knowing.

“That’s what I thought. No protests. No defense. You know you messed up.”

His fingers curled around your hip, dragging you gently away from the wall. “C’mon. Couch.”

“Toji—”

“Don’t talk. Walk.”

You did.

He sat down first — legs spread, chest rising and falling slow, deliberate — and patted his thigh.

“Bend.”

You hesitated. Just a second too long.

His voice dropped. “You really wanna find out what happens when I lose my patience?”

You moved.

The moment you were over his lap, his hands pulled your dress up, your underwear tugged aside like it was barely worth the effort. His palm smoothed over your bare skin, slow, deliberate strokes that sent shivers crawling up your spine.

“I should’ve known you’d wear something this tiny out,” he muttered, voice sharp with judgment and something darker. “You wanted attention, huh? Wanted those losers at the bar to look at you?”

You shook your head quickly. “No—”

Smack.

The sound echoed — not loud, but sharp. Just one strike. Enough to make your breath hitch.

“You think I’m asking?” he said, rubbing the same spot with his palm. “I saw how they looked at you. How they stared.”

Another smack — higher, this time.

“But you know what’s worse?”

His fingers dipped lower, brushing between your thighs — not touching where you ached, just close enough to make your legs twitch.

“You liked it. Didn't you?”

You whimpered, hiding your face in the couch cushion.

Smack.

This one lingered. His hand stayed on your skin longer than before, warm, heavy.

“You don’t get to play dumb anymore, sweetheart,” he muttered.

His fingers teased closer, brushing up along your inner thigh, knuckles dragging slow.

“But first... since you acted like such a filthy little tease tonight… I’m gonna take my time putting this mouth to use.”

He leaned in, eyes locked with yours — a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“And you don’t get to finish until I say so.”

Toji didn’t rush.

He just knelt there, staring at you — legs spread open, chest heaving, your dress bunched up high around your hips. His hands were firm on your thighs, holding them apart .

“So easy to get worked up,” he murmured, lowering his head slowly, lips brushing the inside of your thigh. “And so easy to break.”

His tongue dragged a line up your skin — not where you wanted it, not even close — but enough to make your stomach clench and your back twitch against the couch.

One hand slipped away from your thigh and gripped your wrist, pressing it down against the cushion above your head. A silent reminder: stay there. The other slid slowly between your legs, just enough to spread you further. Just enough to make your head spin.

And then — finally — his mouth found you.

Hot. Slow. Deliberate.

He licked once, long and deep, the base of his tongue flat against your skin. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t tender. It was filthy — the way he moaned into it like he was the one getting off. The way he stopped just when your hips twitched up, holding you down when you tried to chase more.

“Already this wet?” he muttered, mouth slick, voice ragged with control. “From just a few touches? You really are easy, huh?”

You whimpered.

He smiled.

And then his mouth was back on you — tongue working in slow, rhythmic strokes, building pressure but never quite letting you have it. Not fully. His thumb grazed over your clit with the lightest pressure, just enough to tease.

“Don’t you dare finish,” he growled, tongue curling against you, “until I say.”

He edged you there — over and over — each time pulling away the second your breath got high, the moment your back arched too hard. He’d hold you down, lick your inner thigh, whisper something cruel and low:

“Not yet.”

Again.

And again.

Until your legs were shaking, eyes glassy, your body begging for release he wouldn’t give. His grip never softened. His mouth never lost rhythm. He made it hurt — in the most maddening, aching way possible.

And the real thing was yet to come.

----

The room is bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows over the plush velvet bedspread. The air is heavy with the scent of sandalwood and your own nervous anticipation. Toji towers over you, his chiseled frame a stark contrast to your trembling form.

“Such a sweet little slut,” Toji murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly purr that makes your core clench. He kneels before you, his rough hand cupping your cheek tenderly, thumb tracing your quivering lips.

“So fucking pure, yet you’re dripping for me. My perfect girl.” His praise washes over you, but his next words cut sharp. "Knowing this virgin cunt’s never felt a real man.”

You whimper, eyes wide, stuttering, “I-I… don’t know… w-what to…” Your voice falters, fear and confusion tangling your words as he chuckles, dark and warm. He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his hungry gaze, and presses a slow kiss to your lips, his tongue teasing the seam until you part for him, naive and pliant.

Toji pulls back, his hands sliding to your bra, unhooking it with deliberate care, letting it fall to reveal your breasts—soft, untouched, the pink nipples puckering in the cool air.

. “Goddamn, these tits are perfect,” he growls, palming them gently, his thumbs circling your nipples until you gasp, your back arching despite your nerves. “T-Toji… it’s… t-too much…” you mumble, voice barely a whisper, your innocence making his cock twitch in his jeans.

“You’re doing so good, baby, my little whore.” he groaned making your cunt throbbing with need you don’t understand.

He eases you onto the bed, laying you on your back. Your legs tremble as he spreads them and Toji groans, his fingers brushing your inner thighs.

“Look at this pretty cunt, begging to be bred,” he says, voice thick with lust. “Gonna fill you up, make you mine forever.”

You blink up at him, confused, stammering, “B-bred? I…that's.... that's too...” He smirks, leaning down to kiss your thigh. “Means I’m gonna pump you full of my cum, sweetheart. You’ll be so fucking good carrying my kid.”

He spreads your folds gently, his thumb grazing your clit, making you jolt with a soft cry. “Tch, so sensitive, This hole’s too tight for my cock yet.” He slides one finger into your entrance, slow and deliberate, stretching your untouched walls.

You gasp, “T-Toji… it’s… s-strange…” your voice trembling as he curls his finger, grazing a spot that makes your hips buck. “Shh, my good girl, just take it,” he coos, adding a second finger, scissoring them gently to prepare you. The wet squelch of your cunt fills the room. “Fuck, you’re soaking me. My perfect little virgin.”

Toji undoes his belt, his cock springing free—thick, veined, the head slick with precum. It’s intimidating, and your eyes widen, fear creeping in. “I-I… it’s too b-big…won't fit...” you whimper, but he shushes you, kissing your forehead.

“You’ll take it, baby. You were made for me.” He rubs his cock along your slit, coating it in your slick, the head nudging your clit until you’re whimpering.

He pushes in slowly, just the tip, stretching your tight entrance. Pain and pleasure mix, and you cry out, “T-Toji… h-hurts…” He pauses, stroking your hair. “You’re so fucking good for me, taking my cock like this.” He inches deeper, your walls fluttering around him, the slow burn making you dizzy.

He moves with agonizing slowness, each thrust deliberate, letting you feel every inch of his cock dragging against your sensitive walls. “Gonna breed this tight cunt,” he growls, his hand cupping your breast, squeezing as he thrusts deeper, hitting your cervix gently.

“P-please… I-its… too much... nghh…” Your moans fuels him, his pace still torturously slow, driving you insane as your body learns to crave him. He rubs your clit in slow circles, making you moan, your cunt clenching tighter around him.

Toji’s control frays as he nears his climax, his thrusts growing faster, harder, his cock slamming into you. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, you perfect slut,” he snarls, pinching your nipple hard.

You whimper , “T-Toji… s-something’s… c-coming…” He grins, feral, and fucks you faster.

“Cum for me, baby. Let me breed you.” Your orgasm hits like a wave, your insides convulsing, squirting weakly, soaking his abs. Toji groans, his cock twitching as he cums, thick ropes flooding into you, spilling out around his shaft, sticky and warm.

He stays inside you, letting you milk him, his cum dripping from your swollen folds. “Look at that bred cunt,” he murmurs, spreading your lips to admire the mess. “So fucking beautiful, full of my cum.”

You’re limp, trembling, too naive to process it all, but he kisses your forehead, whispering, “My perfect girl.”

He pulls out slowly, more cum leaking onto the sheets, and lights a cigarette, watching you with dark, satisfied eyes.

To be continued....

next chapter

.

[elissespieces]

Ok but if I could just- hop in here real quick for a few notes because I am new to this fandom and am completely fascinated by the Wraith.

It took so long for the Atlantis team to befriend a Wraith (or at least work with one) that I was starting to think that it wouldn’t happen. then when it finally did, there was then so little time spared for what that might actually mean that I lost hope entirely. (And no, Michael doesn’t count, wtf was that)

But here- in this situation with Rodney.

The concept of the Wraith are written inherently as an existence of evil, as their survival is dependent upon taking human life.

Even in small doses they can take too much, and this creates a story chasm that is difficult to cross back from by any means. It’s why, throughout the series, any Wraith kill was either stopped before it started, or went the whole way (with a few plot driven exceptions) but you couldn’t just walk away ten years older and be okay.

So here, Rodney is trying to barter just that and there is just- no way that is going to happen. Especially as a series lead and in a position where he wouldn’t get the years back because Todd already played those cards with John. Still- someone needed to get fed on.

But where they took this next was legitimately surprising because of how dark it is, and while I was impressed, I’m also a bit disappointed that it was left in the dust without consequence.

How we feel about the man who took the siblings hostage, and how he was basically talked into killing himself, regardless of what we know he did, was not equivalent to being tried for the crime.

It was dark (and just this side of cruel) of John to take advantage of a desperate, grieving man. Convincing him -by making it the man’s own idea, no less- that the right thing to do, after all he’d just sacrificed, was to give up that one last thing.

Now lemme just say that I’m not passing judgement on Sheppard, because the man does not fuck around when it comes to the safety of his team, let alone the safety of Rodney. He was in a hurry and he was already pissed at the guy, which more than likely made the decision easy, and we accept that because we didn’t like him anyway. It wraps up an episode neatly with the zip of a body bag.

And yet-

Todd is still there, and he will still need to eat. It’s not a one off to him, it only is to them if he doesn’t stick around.

Which is why the lack of consequence to what John did was such a wasted opportunity because it could add up so fast. Not to mention that there’s could suddenly be a much more defined line between your friends and enemies when the new friend you make can and will eat them.

i cannot stop thinking about this single moment, and yes I did make gifs just so I could scream about this.

Of all the things John could've said here. Not allowed, nope, not gonna happen, you can't, etc etc all of that. It's I can't.

LIKE HE CANT??

He can't what? Let Rodney do this? Let Rodney go and give himself up to the wraith knowing first hand what that pain feels like (not even getting into the fact that this is the same wraith that fed on him). Can't sit there knowing what Rodney will go through and what Rodney is willing to give up to save his sister, and I wonder if part of him is wondering how they got here. If he's to blame for Rodney willing to give up his life to save someone else. (he's not tbh, Rodney always been that brave IMO, he's just finally in a situation where he knows people have his back ((looking at u hide and seek my brave little toaster)))

I realize that hes saying "I can't" to Rodney asking permission to go (which, once again. is another thing I don't want to get into of Dr. Rodney McKay PhD PhD asking permission from his team lead to do this) but its' just. So insane to me that this was actual dialogue in an actual scene.

John can't let Rodney do this, and he won't let him do that and if John "orders are made to be ignored" Sheppard has to pull fucking rank to do it, then he will.

But he sure as hell won't meet Rodney's eyes as he does it. Not until Rodney says please and John lifts his head, meets Rodney's eyes, does an epic bottom lip wobble and then says he's sorry. look at the lip wobble and misty eyes people because I had to stare at this a lot when making another gif and I am FERAL over it. A+ acting JF, seriously. 10/10 gold stars for you.

John knows what it feels like to be fed on by a wraith, and he knows that pain. And maybe it's my little mcsheppy heart, but at the end of the day the pain is one thing. What John really can't do? Is let Rodney sacrifice himself.

He can't let Rodney go.

But he sure as hell has no issue letting Wallace go, knowing that pain, knowing what that feels like and knowing what it feels like to be so close to death, but Wallace doesn't get the happy ending. Wallace doesn't get his time back, and John (and the marines so hello I have more questions about them as well) watch it happen.

Because John can't let Rodney go.

And I'll never not want to scream about it.

[justmeinadaze]

Calling All Cars (Steddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: Have I not slept yet, no. Did my managers change my schedule AGAIN from 2 -11 to 8-5, they did indeed. So Ive been living in this angsty universe. Please enjoy and please ignore any typos.

Warnings: Toxic Vampire Steddie & Human Fem Plus Size Y/N, SMUT, edging, dirty talk, spanking (light), humiliation (they refer to her as a toy and a whore), aftercare

ANGST (because obviously), more details of the boys time in the lab is mentioned (them being forced to be in sunlight, gaslit, and them rebelling by killing some guards), they do gaslit Y/N, she does smack Stevie a few times, they constantly refer to her as something they use, she does have an interaction with her parents, cliffhanger ending.

Yeah, they are bad toxic boys but they do have feelings.

Word Count: 5209

Series Here/ Donate to Me

"Calling all cars, we've got another victim 'Cause my love has become an affliction What did you expect from me? What did you expect from me?

I am not the one that you should blame Take what I left you for the pain And do your best to forget my name."

Eddie lit the end of his cigarette as he leaned back against Steve’s headboard, glancing down at your naked frame that was being obscured by the other boy’s sheets before offering you a puff that you eagerly take. 

It had been three months since you found out what happened to the guys and how your parents were involved. You purposely avoided your house as much as you could spending most of your time with either one of them. 

Your friends were very concerned as everything about you had gradually changed; your clothes, your hair, your kind demeanor. 

“Y/N, stop!”, your best friend screamed at you as you walked down the empty hallway after school. 

“What?! What do you want, Mandy!?”

“I want my best friend back! What happened after you left that party, Y/N? Garrett drove you home—”

“No, he didn’t! I don’t know how many times I can say it till you fucking understand. The police believe me.”

“No, they didn’t find any evidence! Just a car and a body of the boy I know I saw you leave with. Add in the fact that he had a crush on you and you’ve been spending way more time with Edward Munson—”

“Oh my god.”, you sigh as you roll your eyes. “So what!? I’m hanging out with Eddie Munson AND Steve Harrington but let’s focus on the boy this town hunted for like they were a posse in a western movie!”

“Y/N, three people died and he almost did to after they found him. SOMETHING happened.”

Smirking, you stalked gradually towards her till you were mere inches from her face. 

“Maybe that turns me on about him. The fact that he’s capable of hurting anyone who hurts me…like a friend who keeps butting her nose in my business when she knows NOTHING.”

“Y/N, please… Just tell me what’s going on.”

You heavily exhale as you shake your head and disappear down the hallway. 

“Why doesn’t the nicotine hurt you?”, you ask as you pass it back to him. “I mean it’s entering your body, right?”

Eddie shrugs as he inhales and flicks the ash in the nearby ashtray. 

“Maybe because I’m not exactly ingesting it. Thankfully for everyone I can smoke because if I couldn’t…oh boy.” You giggle at his joke and he tosses a smile towards Steve who smirks at the sound as he continues to read through your parent’s files that they stole. 

As the time passed, they were able to collect more tangible information now that they knew what they were looking for. Judging by the constant grunts of anger, you imagined they weren’t finding much. 

“Harrington, I don’t think I saw you read this much in school.”

“Yeah, well, this is something I find interesting so…”

“What’s this one? ‘Today subject B snored in his coma?’” The metalhead chuckled but your sad exhale had his head whipping in your direction. “What?”

“Will you ever tell me what happened? What put you in that coma and gave you these?”, you ask as the pad of your finger traced the scar on his chest.

Both men would never tell you but they loved the way you touched them. 

They had spent months being tortured and tossed around, not just by doctors and scientists but Vecna and the bats when they went into the upside down to fight him. 

Even after they were done being rough with you, you would wrap your arms around their waist and caress their skin till you fell asleep. Steve would feel your nails run through the hair on his chest and his eyes would close as he absorbed the brief feeling of what a normal relationship would be like. 

Eddie would wake up with the strong need for a cigarette before it was replaced with the desire to not disturb your sleeping form as your nose nuzzled into his shoulder behind him and you pulled him closer to your body. 

“You don’t want to hear about that, sweetheart.”, he exhaled as he caught your hand and kissed the back of it. 

“I want to hear everything.”, you mumble.

“Oh?”, the former jock asked as he turned in the chair at his desk to face you both and began to read in a high pitch voice. “’Spoke with Edward Munson today after the much anticipated sunlight test. He and Steven Harrington were allowed outside today for an hour. After 35 minutes their skin began to ‘burn’ (their words). When the hour ended both were red and their flesh began to decay as if they were third degree burns. Dr. Y/L/N said they seemed delusional and Edward begged ‘for his father to stop hurting him’. Healed after fifteen minutes and a blood iv drip—”

Eddie growled beside you as his angry eyes bore into his friend but as if challenged Steve continued. 

“’I asked him why he said that and he said he didn’t remember but documentation from Hawkin’s Police records shows a history of violence—'”

The metalhead swished towards him, tackling him out of the chair and onto the floor. 

“Come on, Munson, is that all you got!”, the pretty boy chuckles as they begin to wrestle. 

“Why do you have to read my reports?! Read your own personal shit!”

“I don’t know if you heard me but that involved us both, asshole! They locked me outside to in the sun, remember?! I was right there beside you fucking banging on that door trying to bust it down! Screaming for anyone to help us! Of course, they didn’t care. Didn’t even bother to tell us any of their fucking names.”

“’Tests were initiated today on their strength and tempers. Steven Harrington was the hardest to break.’”, you read aloud from his desk chair causing them both to pull apart. “’When his parents were mentioned, little reaction took place. Brought up Dustin Henderson and his blood pressure spiked but no physical reaction. It wasn’t until a woman by the name of Robin Buckley was mentioned. One of the doctors spoke of collecting her to bring her in and Mr. Harrington broke his restraints until he was subdued by security.’”

Steve slowly rose to his feet and sauntered your way, his eyes locked on you as you kept reading. 

“’Neither man appear to have any romantic interests contrary to ‘rumors’ of Miss Wheeler. Pressure points for them seem to be Robin Buckley and Wayne Munson. Documenting for future use should anything happen to me.’”

Bending down to find your eyeline, he places his palms on his knees as he searches your features. 

“And who is the ‘me’ in that sentence?” Blinking back tears, you swallow the pain you’d been avoiding these past few months. “Answer me.”

“My mom.”

“That’s right.”

“May I ask you something?” Neither man responds as they continue to glare your way. “You…you didn’t seek me out to get back at them, did you?”

“If memory serves, sweetheart, YOU came up to ME.”, Eddie answers as he slides on some shorts and bounces back into the bed. 

“And I warned you to stay away from us.”

When all you do is nod, Steve abruptly lifts you into his arms making you smile as he tosses you beside his friend and climbs in beside you.

“I, um, I like you a lot…both of you…”

Both men exchange a glance as you cuddle up further into the pretty boys cool but comfortable chest. The metalhead heavily exhales and his friend watches as he curls up behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist as he holds you to him, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder. 

####################

“Y/N, sweetie?” Your head shoots up from your sketchbook at the sound of your teacher’s soft voice. “They need you at the front office. Someone’s here to see you.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know, honey.”, she sighs as she holds up the pass that was handed to her with emphasis. 

As you glance across the room towards Eddie, even he seems more alert at the announcement as his head tilts but as you begin to collect your things, you briefly hear him scribble something down on a piece of paper. 

You don’t know what possess you to do it, maybe intuition or the new found connection you have with these boys but as you absently reach for one of your books, you knock it to the floor allowing the notes within to scatter with it. 

The long-haired boy doesn’t hesitate as he quickly kneels down to help you collect your things and out of the corner of your eye, you see him slide the paper he wrote on into the front cover. 

“Thank you.”, you mumble as he firmly nods and watches you take the pass before disappearing out the door. 

Pausing in the hallway, you flip his note open and panic subtly flows through you as you read, “Don’t fight him. Go where he asks. You aren’t alone.” 

“Hey, baby.” At the sound of the man’s voice, you head snaps towards the office as you come face to face with your father. “I think we need to talk.”

***

Your hands shake in your lap in the back of the SUV but you try to hid it as you hold them together. To your surprise, your dad brings you back to your house and opens the back door for you so you can follow him inside. 

Your mom is pacing in the living room but she stops when she sees your face and runs to give you a hug. 

“Y/N, we missed you so much! We’re so glad you’re ok.”

Her tone and smile fall when you don’t reciprocate and she slowly backs away as your father gestures towards a chair for you to take a seat. 

“I’m not going to beat around the bush, Y/N, and for this to go as smoothly as possible I want clear, concise answers. Am I being understood?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “How much do you know?”

“About Project Sunlight?”, you murmur with contempt. “I know you tortured them and mom gaslit them. I know I was a subject at one point.”

“No, baby, you were—”

“Don’t you dare lie to me! I read dad’s notes from when I was in the hospital!”

“Were we cautious, yes. Were you a subject, no.”, your father responds before his wife can as she starts to lean forward to object. “Would you like to be?”

His callous wording has you blinking back shock as you lean back in your chair. 

“Y/N, you have no idea what Edward Munson and Steven Harrington are capable of but I can show you.”

Sliding out of your way, he pushes play with the remote in his hand and both their sullen faces fill the screen of the tv. They appeared incredibly thin but still had some color in their faces as their eyes stared into the void while sitting in what appeared to be a large white empty room. 

“Can we get this over with please?! I’m really fucking tired…and I need a smoke.”, Eddie grumbles. 

“Shhh… do you hear that?”, Steve whispers as he gets to his feet and heads towards the locked door. 

“I’m bringing in anyone who was in the other world so we can run tests on them. Steven and Edward may have been bitten but who knows what else could have been in that place that contaminated the others.”

“I understand, sir. Names of the subjects?”

“Will Byers, Dustin Henderson—”

“No…”

“What?”, Eddie asked as he watched his friend start to panic and pull on the handles in front of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckl—”

“NO! DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH THEM!”

The metalhead’s eyes widen in fear as he watches the former jock try to rip the door off its hinges but fails. 

“Wayne Munson did come into contact with the gate in his trailer. That’s in the paperwork here. Should we grab him to or?”

Eddie began scrambling around the room while Steve searched for something that would get them out so they could get to their friends and family. The camera angle changes to the corner of the room as both men suddenly stop moving and their heads tilt towards a mirror against the wall. 

Their eyes become that black you’ve seen before and you watch in horror as they fly forward, effortlessly crashing through to attack the men on the other side. Camera shots constantly changed to different gun angles as they tried to rein in the beings as they flew and tore people apart with magnificent strength. 

Abruptly, you and them were blinded by a bright light as they screamed and fell to the floor as the tape ended.

“Don’t you see, Y/N? We HAD to run all those experiments on them to see what we were dealing with and we were terrified by what we saw. Thankfully your mom’s therapy techniques have kept them from hurting anyone else. We told them this here…” He gestures towards the tv. “…was a rouge outfit and thanked them for saving us. We NEED them to keep believing we are on their side.”

“You…you tortured them…why didn’t you just help them?”

“We tried, baby, we really did.”, you mother replies. “After a while we realized there was no cure for what they were.”

“But we are still learning everything about them. Apparently, they can heal wounds on other people. They can feed without changing the human they are directly feeding from—”

“You’ve been watching me with them…”

“At first, no. I had an inclination after your wound on your neck healed in the hospital. When you didn’t come back home, we sent agents to find you. For the last three months they’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

“Why them and not you?”, you snap. “Too afraid to face the truth?”

“What’s the truth, Y/N? What are you to them?”

“A meal.”, your dad answers your mom’s question. “That’s all you are to them.”

“No. They care about me and I care about them.”

“All they care about is themselves and blood. They will die without it, Y/N. Why do you think everyone else abandoned them? They are not the same boys from before especially Edward Munson. When he died, he came back stronger and from what we can tell his senses are more in tune than Steven’s.”

“If you’ve been watching me for so long then why are you talking to me now?”

“We…we know you’ve become romantically involved. We want you to help us find out more information that we’d never be able to get.”

“Wow.”, you laugh as you rise to your feet. “After everything you just told me and everything I’ve seen about what you two did to them…you really think I’d help you?”

“Y/N, please, you can save so many lives—”

“You could have just asked us directly.” At the sound of Eddie’s voice, you jumped as your mom stood up and placed herself beside her husband. “Mr. Y/L/N…Mrs. Y/L/N…or should I say doctors?”

“Edward. Steven. You both have changed.”

“Oh, yeah, we aren’t fucking dying anymore.”, the pretty boy practically hissed. “And thanks to this little exchange here now we know that was always the plan. Do you even know how long we would have suffered before we wasted away?”

Your father shakes his head making them both snicker. 

“Thankfully a little angel entered our world and we have absolutely enjoyed corrupting her. The fact that she’s your daughter is just an added bonus really.”

“I thought you said—”, you began before the metalhead cut you off.

“We said we didn’t pursue you but that doesn’t change the fact that part of what gets us off is that we are making the daughter of the man and woman who made our lives hell scream while we fucking use her.”, Eddie replies flatly. “Fuck…I’m getting hard right now thinking about you having to hear feedback from your subordinates about how she moaned our names and how uncomfortable that must have made you.

About as uncomfortable as being force-fed things that make you sick.”

“Or being manipulated to believe you were going to hurt the people we cared about.”, Steve added. 

Your palm to his face startled everyone in the room as you slapped him hard with every ounce of energy you could muster. 

“You don’t care about fucking anybody! Neither of you do!”

The growl that rumbled from them had your mom starting to step forward to protect you but your father held her back. 

Eddie grinned devilishly as he shook his head and held up his index finger. 

“Excuse me. We need to have a talk with our toy. It seems she forgot her place.”

With that, he wraps his arms around you, protecting your body as he crashes through the window and flies into the sky with Steve in tow.

###############

The metalhead lands in a field of tall grass and you stumble out of his grasp on to the ground. Gathering your faculties, you run in what you perceive to be no particular direction, finding a seemingly empty trailer and running inside. 

There’s a strong smell of dampness you can’t identify but as you glance towards the ceiling, you see a big hole that is pitch black within. You half expect to see the night sky but when you place yourself under it all you see are vague remnants of a carpet that looks like the one currently under your feet clouded by a darkness that frightens you. 

Backing away, you fall into a chair and as you hastily stand back up a framed photo catches your eyes. 

A small boy with long hair is in an older man’s arms as he lifts him towards the camera and they both laugh. There’s another picture beside of it of a woman holding that same small child to her chest as she kisses his forehead. 

Intrigued, you wonder to the kitchen and find some loose papers on the counter. Flipping it over, a picture of Eddie glared back with his description underneath and above read “Missing Person.”

You wondered further towards the back of the trailer and your jaw dropped slightly as you took in the metalhead’s former room. The door behind you slammed shut making you jump as the man himself folded his arms. 

“I think some of the lines in our relationship have been blurred, Y/N. You belong to us. That’s it. That’s all you are. A belonging.”

“And belongings don’t hit.”, Steve growled as he forcefully pushed you onto the bed. 

“That’s all I am? That’s all I’ll ever be? So when I said I like you both—”

“I don’t know what you expected, little girl. We told you in the beginning that you were our untapped resource.”

“Why? Why are you like this?! Where is this man?!”, you plead as you hold up his flyer. “Or the man I drew who used to work at Scoops Ahoy who made his best friend laugh?!

“That man is dead, Y/N. He was bitten, torn apart, and then some doctors got ahold of him.”, Eddie hissed as he grabbed the paper and tore it up.

“I don’t think you understand how much your parents and those other doctors destroyed us.”, Steve followed. “I didn’t die like he did but after saving this fucking town I came back to torture…literally!”

“But…but that wasn’t…I’ve been nothing but nice to you…I thought—”

The pretty boy’s hand around your throat cut you off. 

“You thought wrong. What? Did you think we would fall in love and run off into the fucking sunset together? Get married and have little babies who snack on their pathetic mother?”

Your heart breaks at his words and they see it as you hunch over and cover your eyes. 

“I’m so fucking stupid.”, you murmur before facing them with a look they had never seen from you. “Why…why did you even bother!? You should have just left me alone! I have lost everything because of you!!”

“No, you lost everyone because of you and the choices you made. YOU saved Eddie. YOU came to the store. YOU stayed with us after you found out about mommy and daddy. There wasn’t even a doubt in your mind.”

“I trusted you and what you showed me…”

“Yeah, well, trusting us was your mistake, baby, not ours.”, the metalhead sighs as if annoyed. 

Something in your energy changes as you rise from the bed and square your shoulders. 

“Your right. I will never make that mistake again.” As you start to walk towards the bedroom door Steve grabs your wrist to pull you back and in return you slap him again. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Where do you think your going?”, he growled. 

“Home. My parents may be despicable people but that’s nothing compared to you two and at least there they can keep me safe.”

He tugs you roughly closer to his chest as Eddie steps closer to your sides. 

“There’s nowhere you could go, little girl, where we can’t find you.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“Oh? Yet you need to be ‘safe’ from us?”

“Fuck you. Does Robin Buckley know the kind of man you’ve become? What about Wayne Munson? Do they know the monsters you are?”

Steve walks you backwards till your back hits the wall and even then he presses himself against you till your sandwiched between. 

“You want to see a monster, Y/N? Say her name again.”

Your body shutters slightly at the drop in his voice as his irises burn into your eyes. His chest rose and fell, pushing against yours as the wind from his nose moved your hair every time he breathed. 

It was incredibly subtle; the bulge in his jean lightly touching you. 

He was getting off on this; your defiance. 

“So…that’s a no…on Robin?”

In one swift action, the former jock grabbed your hair and spun you around, slamming your front half aggressively against the wall. Lifting your skirt, his palm came down hard on your behind causing you to jump and whine.

“We are going to fucking ruin you tonight, you little brat, and when we’re finished you’ll never forget your place again.”

His palm hit you a couple more times in quick succession before he yanked on your hair to guide you back to the bed and push you down on all fours. After ripping off your panties, you felt the wind behind you of Steve ducking down, moaning loudly when his tongue licked through your folds. 

“You’re so ungrateful, Y/N. After everything we do for you...”, Eddie growled, throwing his body in front of you as he stroked his cock. “You still forget your place… you’re still…disrespectful…”

You whimpered when the man behind you pulled away and it wouldn’t be the last time that night they left you wanting. Both men used you for what felt like hours, building you up till you were right at the edge before pulling away. 

The metalhead was top of you now, pumping his cock deep inside you with his head beside your own till he felt your pussy begin to quiver and he abruptly stopped moving. All three of you were sweaty and panting as Steve folded his fingers against his forehead. 

“Please…”, you beg, desperate.

“Who do belong to?”

“You and Steve.”

“That’s right. You’re our little whore.” As he spoke, Eddie began thrusting into you again as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Say it.”

“I’m…I’m your little…little whore.”

“Yeah, you are…Fuck, baby…ours…”, he moaned, not slowing down. “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

It didn’t take long for your orgasm to crash into you as you screamed his name and he mewled as you lightly tugged his hair. His lips crashed to your own only for a moment as he struggled to keep them connected, his face scrunching in pleasure as he hastily pulled out and rapidly stroked his cock till his release hit tummy. 

“You didn’t—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I am.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes as he climbs off you and is quickly replaced by Steve who collects you in his arms, falling back first against the headboard while adjusting your body to straddle his lap. Taking a hold of his shaft, you slowly sink down onto him eliciting a sexy groan from him as you gradually move your hips. 

Your hands cling to his shoulders as his lips attach to your nipple and you can’t help but squeak when one of his fangs drags lightly along the bud. 

“That was for fucking hitting me…even though your pussy is telling me—shit—you liked that. Did you, baby?”

“Yes, I liked it.”

“See? We take care of you to.”, he whispers as he meets each one of your bounces with a thrust of his own. “We take care of our things.”

Eddie’s head tilted as your eyes opened at his friend’s words and you hugged his head to your body as he bit into your neck. Your fingers lingered in his sweat soaked hair just as you had down with the metalhead but your bottom lip trembled as you tried to control the tears. 

“Like you said, Y/N…Monsters.”

Your eyes closed again as the other boy’s palms gripped your ass, guiding you as his mouth released you, licking your wound, and resting his head against your chest as you held him. You trembled as you came and Steve grunted at the feeling. 

“Goddamn it…off, off, off!”, he urged and you slid back to watch him pump his cock roughly till his seed erupted on to his hand and thigh. “Fuck.”

As the metalhead handed the pretty boy a napkin, Steve raised his eyebrows in annoyance. 

“The water doesn’t work here, remember? No one has lived here in like a year.”

“We could go to the lake. It’s not far from here, right?”

As they spoke, you had tried to suffocate the tears that escape as you reached for a tissue by his bed and cleaned yourself. Something cold tapped your arm and you turned to see Eddie handing you your clothes. 

You stared at them as if they were a foreign object and again, he tried to push them towards you. Fury filled you as you took the items, tossed them to the ground, and stomped them with your bare feet as you screamed at the wall. When you finally stopped, they both redressed you themselves as you stood there and allowed it. 

Your sad eyes took in the room around you; absorbing all the band posters and D&D campaign memorabilia. By his bed were cassette tapes of bands you very much knew, having listened to them yourself. There was what appeared to be a fantasy book half read along with some more photos that you picked up to examine. 

Softly chuckling, you hold up a picture of him with a group of people wearing the same Hellfire shirt as he held up the rock & roll symbol with his tongue sticking out. 

“Some days…after school…I could hear you guys yelling and laughing in the theater room…You sounded so…happy.” Your voice cracked on your last word before tossing the images back where you found them. “Do you care about me at all? Even a little?”

Eddie’s chest heaved as he exhaled and stepped towards you to gently kiss your forehead. 

“No.”

You nodded but your knees betrayed you as they buckled as Steve quickly caught you and pressed you to his chest. 

 “Y/N…” You heard it through your pain, a particular tone from him you had been hearing more and more as you got more comfortable together. “Don’t trust your parents… anyone who works for that lab isn’t someone you should trust. They made us…who we are.”

Your head shakes adamantly.

“No. You are the way you are because of yourself. I know those men are still in there.”

“Maybe…or maybe this is who we were always meant to be.”

At the long-haired boy’s words, you start to sob and they both hold you tightly to them until they fall asleep. 

As the Hawkins sun begins to rise, you give them one last cursory glance before grabbing your shoes and running out the trailer door. 

###############

“You’re safe here, Y/N, I promise.”, your mom assures as she slides your suitcase and backpack into your new room at the “safehouse” they sped to after you arrived at their front door. “We’ve always had ‘get away’ packs ready just in case and this house is ‘clean’ so they shouldn’t be able to smell us. I’m not even sure they can do that but—”

“Yes, you are. You don’t have to lie to me.”

Sighing, she takes a step towards you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder giving you pause. 

“I know you’re angry with me, baby, and you have every right to be but no matter what I’m still your mom and I’m still here for you. Your father and I love you very much.”

“Thank you, mom.”, you whimper as you take a seat on the bed and pull out the sketchbook from your backpack. Flipping through the pages, your heart cracks in half as their images you drew fly past. 

Anger and pain fills you as you begin ripping out pages and tearing them in half before tossing them across the room. 

“I don’t know about this, honey.”, your mom whispers as she closes her and her husband’s bedroom door and walks over to the desk where he was watching you break down from his laptop monitor that was connected to the many cameras around the house including your room. “She doesn’t seem like them. I mean she came to us in the day time for Christs sake…on FOOT! Those boys couldn’t even handle 30min.”

“Yeah but we won’t know that unless we keep an eye out.”, he replies absently as he continues taking notes before your mother walks over and shuts the laptop closed. “Look, we don’t have any data on what happens when they take blood from a human. We also don’t know how intimacy works, for example, can they get her pregnant? Can they—”

“Ok, ok! I don’t even want to think about that.”

“There’s also a lot of information she can give us. We just have to get her to trust us again.” You father watches as your mom’s head hangs and she takes a seat on the mattress with her arms folded across her chest. “Sweetheart…”, he sighs as he wheels his chair in front of her and grabs her palms. “I know how you feel. We never wanted her to experience any of Hawkins craziness but it is what it is…now we just have to find out what we can to protect her and the rest of the world.”

“Even if that mean doing to her what we did to them?”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that…”

“But if it does?”

Your father tenderly kisses the back of her hands before tugging her onto his lap. 

“Let’s cross that bridge when we get there.”

##################

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