#but I wish she would shut up so she stops getting hurt :(

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 11 (The End)

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

I could write more, but quite frankly, I think I would kinda drag it out and the first major arc is tied up with a neat little bow! There are definitely be threads left dangling for me to pick up whenever I want to write more about Sky and Azriel, but I think around 50k is a good place to stop for now ❤️

Even the Spymaster of the Night Court paid taxes.

That was the only reason why Rhysand even found out where exactly Azriel‘s home even was.

Azriel’s home was in the outskirts of Velaris, near the mountains. A little lake cabin. Rhys hadn’t even known that Azriel owned it but apparently he did.

Rhys shouldn’t go there. He knew that.

Rhys should be giving his brother space. That was probably the least he owed him. But he couldn't stop himself. He needed to know Azriel was alright. That he was happy.

Rhys needed to apologise. He needed to make amends…

And Azriel was ignoring him. Mental shields as shored up as they ever had been, shoving back at Rhys at every opportunity…

He had never seen Azriel's mental shields like this before, and it concerned him. He knew Azriel was angry at him, had ever right to be angry,  but Rhys hadn't expected his brother to shut him out so completely.

Reports were still arriving on his desk punctually as always. But Azriel seemed utterly uninterested in actually talking to Rhys. 

It was a small comfort, knowing that Azriel was still working, but Rhysand couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt that had settled deep in his gut. He knew that he had hurt Azriel deeply, and he couldn’t blame his brother for shutting him out.

Rhys wished he could turn back time and fix things, but he had messed up terribly. He knew he had to give Azriel space, but the silence between them was deafening . It was a constant reminder of just how much damage he had caused.

As the days went on, Rhysand found himself consumed by thoughts of what he could have done…should have done… He tried reaching out to Azriel mentally, only to be rebuffed each time. 

Cassian showed up alone for debriefings and if Rhys showed up at the House of Wind for Valkyrie Training, Azriel was nowhere to be seen. 

So finally…Rhys had enough. So he showed up at that house. 

It was a nice house too, a secluded cabin at a mountain lake. Rhys knew that he wasn’t welcome, not after everything that had passed between them, but he had to see Azriel. 

Rhys raised a hand, knocking gently on the door. He could hear the faint sound of movement inside. Rhysand sighed. He should leave. He knew he should leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

And then suddenly, to his surprise…the door opened. 

“…C…Can I….can I h…help you?“

She was brown haired and short… with deep blue eyes and freckles smattering over her nose.

Rhysand looked at the woman in front of him, taken aback by her appearance. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't a small, curvy, freckled brunette.

"I, uh..." Rhysand stammered, his mind blanking. "I was looking for Azriel." he finally brought out. 

The small female studied him carefully, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Az…Azriel's n…not h…here," she stuttered.

Rhysand's heart sank, but he tried not to let it show. "Do you know where he is?" he asked, desperate for any information.

The female hesitated, biting her lip slightly. She seemed to be contemplating her answer, her brow furrowing in thought. After a moment, she finally looked back up at him, her expression unreadable. "He…He's...o…out f…for t…the d…day," she said finally, not giving him anymore than that.

Rhysand tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but it was difficult. He was so close to his brother, and yet so far away. "Do you know when he'll be back?" he asked sharply.

She nearly flinched away from him at that tone of voice.

He opened his mouth to apologise, but he didn't even get to that. Because some thing with wickedly sharp claws, launched itself at his head with a hissing sound.

Rhysand yelped as the mysterious creature swiped at his face, growling all the while.

"HECTOR NO!" The female shrieked.

Rhysand stumbled backwards, trying to dodge the sharp claws.

Just at that moment, he felt more than he heard his brother's arrival.

Azriel materialized between them with a loud flapping of wings, his siphons blazing. He stood protectively in front of the small female, his expression murderous.

"Hector to me," he snapped. The thing, a cat ...an incredible ugly , murderous looking cat let off Rhys with another growl and slunk back to Azriel's side, heeling like a dog. The woman quickly scooped him up in her arms.

Cassian's laughter washed over him, at that moment, as Rhys was still laying on the ground, bested by a cat .

"Taking down by a cat now, Rhysie?" Cassian asked him with a snort, offering him his hand to gain his feet.

Rhys already knew that he was never going to live this down.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Azriel hissed, his voice filled with anger. His wings were spread wide, and Rhysand could see the barely contained ferocity beneath his brother's cold facade.

Rhysand winced at Azriel's harsh tone. He knew he had messed up, and he didn't blame his brother for being angry with him. "I just wanted to see you," he said, feeling small under Azriel's penetrating glare.

Azriel's expression didn't soften at his words. "You had no right," he said sharply. "You can't just show up here unannounced, Rhysand. This is my home, and you're not welcome here. You terrified Sky!"

Sky. Sky. That was the name of his brother's mate...of the pretty brunette that was standing behind him, fussing over her murderous cat.

Rhysand glanced over at Sky guiltily. "I...I'm sorry," he said to her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Sky hesitated, before nodding stiffly. Her face remained guarded, her arms still wrapped protectively around the mangy cat. Rhysand couldn't help but notice how small she looked compared to Azriel's imposing form…and the absolute massive cat. 

"I am sorry," he turned to his brother, swallowing. The apology wasn't enough. he knew that. And it wasn't going to fix the fact that Azriel didn't trust him anymore or... *Az. Please.*

"How did you find this house?" Azriel demanded.

"I checked the tax reports," Rhys admitted with a grimace.

Azriel's expression darkened even further, and Rhys braced himself for a reprimand. Instead, his brother let out a harsh, bitter chuckle. "Of course you did," he said flatly. "Just can't stay out of my business, can you?"

Rhysand felt a pang in his chest at the hostility in Azriel's voice. He knew he deserved every ounce of resentment his brother felt, but it still hurt deep to hear it out loud. "I...I was worried about you," he said lamely.”I just needed to see you." he added. "To apologise."

"You don't even realise the lines you keep crossing, do you?" Cassian asked him flatly. "Ever thought about the fact that maybe you should have waited until Azriel was ready to hear you out?

Rhysand winced. Cassian's words struck a nerve, and he knew his friend was right. He had been rash and insensitive in coming here unannounced. "I...I wasn't thinking," he admitted softly.

Cassian shook his head, his expression still stern. "That's the problem, Rhys," he said bluntly. "You never seem to think these days. It's like you're so caught up in your own head that you don't consider how your actions affect those around you."

Rhysand's gaze dropped, shame washing over him. Cassian's words pierced straight through him, and he struggled to find a response. He knew he had been making mistakes, but hearing them laid out so bluntly still stung.

"What do you want?" Azriel asked him flatly. "Why did you come here?"

"I wanted to apologise," Rhys said weakly. "I...fucked up. I know that. I want to...fix things."

Azriel's face remained impassive, his eyes hard. "You can't just fix things with an apology, Rhys," He said curtly. "You crossed more than one line, and you shattered my trust. Do you really think saying sorry is enough?"

"Az," his mate said softly, her voice quiet. "H..He's blee..bleeding all over our front lawn after my cat at..attacked him. At least let him sit down and give him a healing salve…"

Azriel turned to look at his mate, his anger softening ever so slightly at the concern in her voice. He let out a heavy sigh, before nodding stiffly. "Fine," he said gruffly. "But no more than that."

Rhysand nodded gratefully, relieved that Azriel was willing to let him in, even if only slightly. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I...I really am sorry."

Azriel didn't respond, turning away from him and herded Sky and the murder cat into the house. Rhysand watched him go, feeling a pang of sadness. It was clear that his brother's anger was far from abated, and he knew it would take a lot more than just an apology to mend their fractured relationship.

"Come on," Cassian prodded him up.

The first thing that Rhys realised about the house Azriel shared with his mate was that it was absolutely stuffed full with books. The second was, that Azriel clearly doted on the Murder Cat that got a crystal dish with tuna on it put on the floor before Azriel even went in the direction of the healing salve, which he slapped down on the table in front of Rhysand. .

"I…I am so…sorry," Sky apologised to Rhys, bright blue eyes apologetic. "H…Hector has nev…never done anything like that before, I swear."

Yeah, somehow he doubted that. But he also doubted that it was going to help his relationship with Azriel if he was going to annoy his mate about her beastly cat. The thing had a worse personality than Amren . 

"Don't worry about it," he said, with what he hoped he was a gracious smile. "I think your cat and I just got off on the wrong foot." He looked over at the cat, who was now happily devouring the tuna as if it hadn't just tried to claw his face off.

"Good Boy, Hector," Azriel said warmly.

Rhysand could just stare.

Azriel, the feared Spymaster of the Night Court, was cooing at a mangy cat like a proud parent. He never would have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

"Who knew the Spymaster had a soft spot for cats," Rhysand remarked with a faint smile. Azriel shot him a warning glare, but the sternness was lost at the tender way he was petting the cat. "I am really sorry," Rhys apologised again.

"You said so. Numerous times," Azriel shot back.

Rhysand sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He knew Azriel was still angry with him, but it was hard not to feel the guilt weighing down on him. "I know," he said softly. "But I want you to know that I mean it. I am sorry, Azriel. For everything."

Azriel's expression remained impassive, but Rhysand could see the flicker of sadness in his eyes. He knew his brother was struggling to forgive him, but he hoped that with time, Azriel would be able to find it in his heart to do so.

"I just want to make things right," Rhysand said earnestly. "I miss you, Az. I miss my brother."

"You'll need to decide one of those days," Azriel said sharply. "Am I your soldier or am I your brother?"

Rhysand flinched at the words, feeling the weight of the accusation hit him hard. 

He had always tried to balance his role as High Lord with his relationship with his brothers, but he knew that…that he hadn’t been fair to Azriel for a long time. "You're right," he conceded quietly. "I have been treating you like my soldier instead of my brother, and that's not fair to you."

"You have been treating him absolutely deplorably," Cassian cut him off.

Rhysand hung his head, feeling the weight of his mistakes settling heavy on his shoulders. "I know," he said quietly. "I've been so caught up in my own problems and responsibilities as High Lord that I lost sight of what really matters. And I've hurt Azriel because of it."

"And you stuck your nose in things that are none of your business," Cassian continued. "I get it that you are tired of fighting, Rhys, we all are, but you can't keep conflict out of our family by ordering Azriel to behave in the way you would like him to."

Rhysand winced, knowing Cassian was right. He had been trying to control things, to make sure everyone was safe and happy, but in the process, he had driven a wedge between himself and his brothers. "I...I know," he admitted reluctantly. "I was…I was stupid. I am tired of war. Of fighting. And I was just trying to protect him, but I went about it all wrong."

" Protect me?" Azriel asked him, his voice dripping with disdain. " Protect me from what ?"

Rhysand looked away, feeling the shame rise within him. He knew he had overstepped, and he knew that Azriel was angry with him. "The consequences that would have arisen," he said delicately. He didn't know what Azriel had told his mate...didn't know how much she knew, but she was watching him with an expression on his face, he couldn't quite place.

"Well, I am an adult, Rhysand," Azriel snapped. "I am perfectly capable of protecting myself."

Rhys knew that. He knew Azriel was more than capable of taking care of himself. But he still felt the need to protect him, to shield him from harm.

"I...I know that," Rhysand said quietly. "I just didn't want to see you get hurt." He glanced over at Azriel's mate, who was still watching him warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being evaluated, judged for his mistakes.

Azriel let out a dry chuckle. "Well, it's a little late for that, don't you think?" he said bitterly. "You've seen to that already." Rhysand winced at the accusation, knowing that he deserved every ounce of Azriel's anger.

"I know," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I am sorry for that. I see now that it was the wrong way to go about it." He looked into his brother's dark eyes, pleading for understanding.

Azriel met his gaze, his expression softening ever so slightly. "Protecting me by making decisions for me is not protecting me, Rhysand," he said quietly. "It's...it's suffocating. It's demeaning."

Rhysand nodded, knowing that Azriel was right. He had been trying to control everything, trying to make sure that nothing went wrong, and he had lost sight of what was truly important. "I understand," he said quietly. "And I am sorry for making you feel that way. It was wrong of me."

Azriel studied him for a moment, before finally sighing. "Just...stop it," he said simply. "No more interfering in my personal life, no more giving me orders like I am one of your soldiers."

Rhysand let out a shaky breath, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I promise," he said earnestly. "I won't do it again, Az. I...I'll respect your boundaries, and I'll never overstep again."

Azriel snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he said gruffly. "And if you do...if you try to control me like that again, I swear Rhysand...it won't end well."

"You'll ha…have He…Hecctor to contend with," Sky said, her voice even.

Rhysand looked over at Hector, who had finished his tuna and was now licking his chops.  Rhys swallowed. "He does seem to be a force to be reckoned with," he said carefully.

Sky gave him a small, tight-lipped smile. "You could say t…that," she said, her tone neutral. Azriel snorted a laugh, shaking his head as he watched his mate. It was the first genuinely carefree sound Rhysand had heard from his brother…in a long time.

Despite the earlier tension, Rhysand found himself smiling too. There was something about the way Azriel looked at his mate, the way he looked...happy, that made Rhysand feel like maybe everything would be alright.

Hector chose that moment to let out a loud meow, his voice sounding like a rusty hinge in the otherwise quiet room. Azriel looked down at the cat, rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll get you your second helping, spoiled brat," he said, a hint of fondness in his voice.

Rhysand chuckled, feeling the tension that had been weighing him down lift just a little. Things between him and Azriel weren't repaired yet, they had a long way to go, but for the first time in a long while, he felt hopeful.

“They do say the pen is mi…mightier than a sword,” Sky said suddenly. “You treat Azriel like that again and you’ll see just how mighty my pen is.”

Rhysand's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Sky's unexpected threat. It was clear that she wasn't messing around, and Rhys couldn't help but admire her boldness. He glanced over at Azriel, who was trying to suppress a smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rhysand said, trying to hide his amusement. "Though I have to say, I can’t imagine a pen being as terrifying as Hector."

Cassian snorted. “Oh you have no idea,” he muttered

Rhysand's eyes widened in curiosity at Cassian's comment. What on earth did that mean? But before he could inquire further, Azriel's voice broke through.

"Don't worry about it," he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Let's just say that you don't want to get on Sky's bad side, especially when she has her writing instruments within reach."

"Duly noted," Rhysand said, nodding seriously. He had a feeling that Azriel's mate was not someone to be trifled with, regardless of how harmless she looked, and he had no intention of finding out first-hand just how mighty her pen truly was.

Hector, having finished his second helping of tuna, let out a satisfied meow before padding over to Sky and rubbing against her leg. She reached down and scratched him behind the ears, smiling as he purred contentedly.

Rhysand watched the scene. He had never seen Azriel so relaxed, so happy, and it made him realize just how badly he had missed his brother. It was a reminder that family was more important than anything, and that he needed to cherish the people he cared about.

“Seems like you aren’t Sky’s favourite,” Cassian drawled.

Azriel snorted. “Nah, I come a distant third behind Hector and the shadows.”

Rhys watched with a swallow as these shadows that he had seen torturing people came over to Sky and twined around her hands. Azriel's words were said in jest, but Rhysand could hear the fondness in his voice. It was clear that Azriel adored his mate, and that the shadows had taken a liking to her as well. Rhysand tried not to let the slight sting of jealousy show on his face.

As he watched, the shadows danced around Sky's fingers, like they were alive and had a mind of their own. Rhys had seen the shadows in action, had seen how Azriel used them to fight and spy, but he had never seen them act this way before. There was a tenderness in the way they twined around Sky that was almost...beautiful.

Rhys turned to Azriel, who was watching his mate with a soft expression on his face. "They seem to like her," he commented, keeping his voice neutral.

"That's an understatement," Azriel said drily. "They're obsessed with her. They won't leave her alone."

Rhysand could see that clearly, but what surprised him more was how comfortable Sky seemed with them. She wasn't scared or even bothered by their presence...

It did make sense he supposed. The shadows were Azriel's weapon, his most trusted companions...that they would like his mate.

Rhysand watched as Sky looked up from where the shadows were wrapping around her fingers, a faint smile on her face. She seemed completely at ease with the strange entities, as if they were just another part of Azriel that she had accepted and embraced.

And it was also a sharp reminder of how much trust Rhys had destroyed through his actions. It was very clear who Azriel preferred, who he trusted more. Who he gravitated towards. Who even his shadows doted on, these strange, creatures that Rhys was quite sure would stop at nothing to keep their master safe.

The realization stung, but Rhys knew he had no one to blame but himself. He had caused this rift between them, he had pushed Azriel away, and now he was paying the price for it. But he was determined to make it right, no matter how long it took.

As he watched Azriel gently brush away a stray strand of hair from Sky's face, Rhys made a silent vow. He would do whatever it took to repair their broken bond, to regain Azriel's trust and respect. No matter how hard it was, no matter how long it took, he would make things right.

***

"You want to talk about it?" Sky asked him quietly, after Cassian ad Rhys had gone. 

She was fine now. Content. No more pulling at the mating bond so harshly and pushing all her fear at him. It had shaved at least a century of his life, to feel that from her when Casisan and him had been sparring and he knew that she was supposed to be safe at home.

He had expected near everything…but he hadn’t expected to arrive to the view of Hector scratching Rhys’s face with all his might. 

Azriel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events bearing down on him. He wasn't sure if he was ready to put his tangled emotions into words yet, but he also knew that he couldn't keep it all bottled up inside.

"Rhys gave me some orders that I didn't agree with," he said drily. "Stuck his nose in things that he had no business to interfere with. He treated me...treated me like my feelings didn't matter. That I didn't matter....It took a really bad fight on Solstice for this apology to occur," he said with a grimace.

"You don't think he means it?" Sky asked him curiously, turning to look at him.

"No, he does mean it," Azriel said with a sigh. He did believe that. “He wants to fix things. to rebuild trust...And I do want that too. Regardless of how much of an asshole he can be on occasion he is still my brother ."

Sky was quiet for a long moment, watching him intently. Azriel felt the weight of her gaze, knowing that she was analyzing the situation, trying to understand what he was feeling. Finally, she spoke.

"You're worried that he'll disappoint you again," she said softly. "That he'll make promises that he can't keep. That he'll go back on his word and hurt you worse than before."

Azriel's throat felt tight. The words hit him hard, because Sky had put a voice to his deepest fears. "Yes," he admitted. "That'sexactly what I'm afraid of. I want to believe him, I do."

But it was hard to trust Rhys right ow. Especially with Sky. Trusting Rhys with the most important, the most precious part of his life...

"I can loan you Hector whenever he pisses you off again," Sky offered him seriously, and Azriel couldn't help but laugh.

"Thanks," he said with a small smile. "I might just take you up on that." He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. The scent of caramel and hazelnuts enveloped him, calming his racing thoughts and easing the tension in his shoulders.

"I love you, he whispered into her skin and she hummed. "Regardless of what happens, you  have me," Sky promised him. "I'll be behind you, every step of the way. regardless of whatever you decide."

Those words were like a balm to Azriel's soul. The fear and doubt that had been plaguing him since Rhysand's unexpected visit receded, replaced by a sense of safety and certainty. He held onto Sky tightly.

"I love you too," she murmured, the words barely audible even in the still apartment.

They stayed like that for a long moment, simply holding onto each other.

*I don't think I ever thanked you.* he told the shadows softly as he held his mate in his arms.

The shadows fluttered around him, wrapping around his arms and shoulders like a comforting embrace. They didn't say anything, but Azriel could feel their response. They had been with him through thick and thin, protecting him, guiding him, and never once asking for a word of thanks. And yet, he knew that they understood his gratitude, that they could feel it…

*Thank you for finding her.*

[deathbxnny]

this is going off my previous one! What about when Jinx finds them and saves them! Atleast Isha wasn’t there alone, she has reader! Now my mind is thinking of more shit-

(Previous part)

Your hand was holding onto the back of Isha's head as you cradled her in your arms carefully. The Enforcers weren't able to separate you two, especially not with the way the girl desperately clinged onto you in fear. And so, you were thrown into this musty, dark cell together. You could tell that she felt guilty and that she most likely felt awful at the mere idea of you being angry at her. Yet all you felt was worry.

"It's okay, don't be scared. I'm sure she will be here soon." You whispered into her hair in an attempt to calm her trembling body. But you weren't all too confident in your own words, admittedly. It had been hours, or maybe even days, since you had ended up here. Your hope was running out, and the fear crept up your body as a reminder of your failures. You should've kept an eye on Isha better. You should've stopped her from going to the rally. You should have just listened to Jinx when she told you to stay put, to not leave to anywhere without her. Why didn't you just listen? She could've gotten Isha herself just fine without being captured.

Head lulling back against the stone wall behind you, your eyes fluttered shut whilst your mind drifted away in an unintelligible sleep. You had fought the exhaustion until now, yet the head injury you've sustained was making it impossible to stay awake any longer. Pulling Isha closer protectively, you allowed yourself some rest. Your dreams were mangled, and nothing seemed recognizable. In the midst of it stood Jinx, angry and worried, reaching out to you yet still so far away. But then she said your name, loud and clear. And the shaking of your body followed.

"Hey! Wake up already. You're scaring me -" You blinked against the red lights, eyes meeting Jinx's familiar ones, which made you let out a relieved sigh. "Y-you're here... finally." You whispered, struggling against the bounds of pure pain and exhaustion, as she quickly pulled you into your arms, her brows furrowed. Weakly turning your head to the side, you saw Isha and a less than impressed Sevika stand there with a frown. "Their head injury isn't looking good. We need to get out of here." The strong woman huffed out, clearly perhaps feeling ever so slightly guilty for what had happened to you.

Nodding, Jinx picked you up with scary ease, as though you weighed absolutely nothing. Her brows were furrowed, and you knew she was struggling to keep it together at the sight of you. It just made the guilt in you worsen. "I'm sorry. I should have waited for you-" "No, it's fine, let's just leave already." She cut you off, clearly trying to preserve her sanity.

But things suddenly took a turn for the worst when the Enforcers came in to stop you. Yet it wasn't them that disturbed you. No, it was that odd, terrifying sound that emitted from the heavy doors to the jail cells. You and Isha locked eyes, and it made you wish you weren't this injured. She clearly wanted to hide in your arms, and it hurt. "What the hell is that..." Sevika whispered, and her answer came in the doors blowing off their hinges, which made everyone stand there in horror.

Through the red smoke and darkness, one could see the form of a horrifying beast emerging from the shadows, snarling and angry. You watched on as it sliced through the Enforcers like butter, leaving them behind in mangled messes of blood and body parts, until it reached you. Jinx had tried to shoot it with her gun, yet found it not working all too well when carrying another person. And seeing that things would most likely only get worse from here, she turned and looked at Sevika, an immideate understanding between the two forming. She had to handle this alone.

"Get them both out of here! Quick!" Jinx yelled, as she distracted the beast enough to give Sevika time to scoop you both up in one arm and run. It would've been impressive if you weren't so terrified. "NO WAIT, JINX! JINX!" You screamed, the adrenaline giving you the slightest boost to reach out to her, despite it being for nothing.

Your eyes met then, and she gave you a smile and wink before the elevator doors shut for good. Leaving her behind to what you believed was her sure death.

[parkersgarage]

a/n:I just be throwing words together and hit post y’all, I can’t even lie.

Sevika x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) 747 wc, little angsty but I wouldn’t cry to it (｀_´)ゞ dialogue heavy as per usual!

“Am I still allowed to say, ‘come back in one piece’” you ask quietly, watching her tighten miscellaneous screws on her arm.

Sevika doesn’t get it. Why you’re so suddenly quiet when before you wouldn’t stop yapping her ear off, or when she’d come home, you’d shout and cheer while waking up the whole damn block. But now it’s just quiet.

She hates it.

A look of disappointment crosses your face when you don’t receive any response. Your eyes have never looked so dull and lifeless before.

“I know you don’t like this,” she starts, staring at her hand. She couldn’t look at you. “I don’t either, but this is how I can keep you safe.” A hum is her only response; she takes it.

“Can you talk to me, please?” Sevika nearly bites her tongue at the plea, but you’re the most important thing in her life now and maybe forever. “I can’t read your mind, not as good as before.”

A shaky and deep sigh falls past your lips. With trembling fingers, your hand glides up her arms gently, slowly melding your body against hers. She takes you in just as tenderly, rough fingertips holding your waist while the cold metal of her hand reaches to your neck.

“It’s too much,” you confess, letting your head fall to her shoulder. You couldn’t let her see you. “All of this change, all the blood being spilled, your new employer.” Your voice gets rougher by the end, and Sevika’s heart churns at the anger in it.

Had she known how you would react to it, if she knew how bitter and angry you’d be about her joining the very force she used to fight against, would she still do it?

If she could take back joining, if she had just let it lie and die, could she?

“I’m–” the apology sits heavy on her tongue, waiting to spill out, but all that follows is silence. You wonder, did this new life mean Sevika couldn’t even talk to you?

She sighs, rubbing her forehead as you pull away from her. “I wish I didn’t have to do this just to keep you safe.” She murmured, her head cast low in an attempt to hide. “He told me as long as I work for him, not a single thing would touch your head, and that’s all I want.”

“Vika, we could’ve just left—”

“And where would you suggest we go?” She asks, cutting you off entirely. There’s a snap in her tone that doesn’t go unnoticed, one you couldn’t blame her for. Yet she sighs again, regret on her face– or rather, it was guilt.

“I get it.” You nod, sitting back– away from her. “I’m sorry.” Another sigh; it seems almost never-ending. The dissatisfaction, the hurt, everything. All because of one slight change. “I won’t complain anymore.”

“That’s not what I–” her sentence falls off her tongue when you get up. Just as you move to walk away, her fingers are quick to grasp your wrist lightly. “Don’t go.” She whispers, and shockingly, her eyes turn watery before casting downwards. “Please.”

You sink back down to your knees. Her hand still holds onto you, afraid you’ll walk away again. You can’t tell what’s going on in her head, what internal battle she’s going through, and how this change affects her.

“You should eat.” You say after a beat of silence. She only hums, ultimately leaving the thought behind as she lays her head against your chest. “You’ve had a long day, Vika.”

Her eyes shut as she focused on your beating heart. She felt bad for tuning out your voice, but this is what she needed. To hear that you were alive, that you weren’t lying lifeless in a ditch like she’d been threatened with hours ago by some goon who was less than her.

At the end of the night, after you’ve both eaten and settled for bed, she clings onto you tighter than she ever has. When she thinks you’ve fallen asleep, the tears that soak your shirt don’t go unnoticed by you. All you wished for was to turn around, wipe them from her face, and tell her it would be okay. But Sevika wouldn’t want that, at least– that’s what you thought. “I love you.” She says. It weighs you down, making you sink further and further into the pit you dug yourself into.

You wonder why it was only said when she thought you were sleeping.

can yall tell I like writing semi-soft Sevika ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[poetry-protest-pornography]

This is very rambly-y because I am very tired, so bear with me, but I can't stop thinking about Jack and Joker.

Specifically, about Jack and Joker and the absence of choice

Do I wish Jack had time to confront Joke's absence from his life and feel that pain, absolutely (I argue that he got to speed run that experience in that moment right after Amma said he'd been taken, but it would have been infinitely more satisfying to have it drawn out. To find a shirt left behind, or an empty place on a table)

I wish he'd had to sit with that, and feel that grief and regret, and gone to bring Joke back to him only to find him missing.

I wish Joke had time to get angry, and that Joke's self flagellation had been given more acknowledgement and resistance than Hoy and Arun trying to stop him from physically hurting himself, because Joke has spent most of his life taking all the blame for every wrong thing, and I don't think anyone has ever told him that they shared or took responsibility for a wrong that Joke felt culpable for (with the exception of his dad, when he apologized at the school, which Joke immediately shut down and minimized and emphasized his own fault).

BUT

So much of this show is about the choices we don't have, and how we live in the space between those choices we don't get to make. The friends we make and keep, the little joys we find, the family traditions we keep up with.

The stories we tell ourselves to get through each day (here I'm thinking about Joke and his forgiveness campaign, and Jack and his 'this is for my grandma and my community' narrative, and Save and his 'i have to do this for Hope' that lets him justify his bad acts, and Tattoo trying to make something useful, and Hoy believing in the good of his friends, and Arun adjusting his whole life to fit into this new family, and Rosé telling herself she's a good person and not like those 'other' rich people, and Amma just loving her grandson and all her bonus grandkids).

And, crucially, Joke is one of the only characters who we see making choices that he isn't forced into by circumstance. (Sort of, but that's a whole other thing)

He chooses to be a thief to try to help expose corruption (and to get his parents attention, but that doesn't work until it does).

He chooses to help Jack, and when that has bad consequences for Jack, he chooses to turn himself in.

Joke chooses to pursue Jack in order to apologize -- he devoted 5 years of his life to the sole purpose of atoning.

He chooses to help Tattoo and Hoy. He chooses to live with these people and become a part of their lives. He chooses to work for forgiveness. He chooses to give up everything, if it means Jack is happy.

He chooses, and he still loses. He still hurts himself and the people he loves.

And Joke deserves to be chosen, this time.

He deserves to be fought for, and to be told that his pain matters. He deserves to know that he is worth choosing.

And I get that it feels like we might not see that -- that Joke might not get to hear that.

BUT

I think the show has left space for all of that.

I think that Jack -- Jack and all their friends -- coming for him means something.

Jack claiming him as his boyfriend, immediately and without hesitation, while defending him, means something.

The two of them facing Boss together for the first time, instead of coming at it from different angles and keeping secrets from each other while trying to solve The Boss Problem, means something.

I have not been disappointed by this show (hurt deeply, yes, but not disappointed!) and I don't think that they'll do it in the last episode either.

I think we saw Jack realize it was time to step up and give Joke the unwavering support and devotion that he gave to Jack, and that we are going to get the emotional payoff that we -- and Joke -- deserve, and that our happy ending will be emotionally satisfying and cathartic for us as an audience, and for these characters who so deeply deserve it.

Joke wants to move forward with honesty, and that doesn't just mean no lying; it means sharing what you're feeling, something they've both struggled with, and both promised to do better with. And both failed at.

But we've still got a whole episode left to see them choose each other, and to make sure that Joke knows he is loved as he is, and for Jack to get to apologize, and I think we're going to get it.

[chaotic-orphan]

Helo helo, just asking...r u planning to update heroic betrayal? 👁👁 NO RUSH THOUGH IT'S JUST REALLY GOOD AND I CAN'T WAIT SJSJHSHSH

GOOD DAY!!

Heroic Betrayal (X)

Read part one // Continued from here

This part is dedicated to everyone who commented under the last part, that made me cackle like a maniac, and everyone who asked for a continuation of this series that warmed my heart— I’m so sorry it took so long, and I hope you enjoy <3

*~*~*~*~*

The concrete cut into her cheeks like a sharp edge, her shoulders hitting the walls and her feet tumbling over her head until she crashed and bashed every point in her body on the way down. She ended up on her stomach, blood dripping from the side of her head. She tried to push herself up, but a hand grabbed the back of her neck and dragged her stumbling to her feet.

She felt like she was going to be sick, stuck in a twister of Supervillain’s strong sharp movements that she couldn’t anticipate with her pounding headache raging.

“Now, here we are,” Supervillain said and he shoved Hero forward again. Hero tripped over her feet, her ankle rolling as they tried to stop her momentum in vain. An edge of something metal caught her around the hips and she fell forward, her torso folding with an oomph. A click and the room flooded with light. Hero squeezed her eyes shut, the light burning compared to the pitch black it was not a moment ago.

Hero squinted taking a quick survey of the room, searching for an escape, but no, no, no, no. There would be escape from this room that was just a concrete square of torture devices. Hero’s heart jumped into her throat as she glanced down at the metal bench below her hands. It was a table. A surgical table. Her stomach bottomed out as she gasped involuntary, stepping back and right into a solid chest.

Her blood ran cold and she couldn’t stop the tremors of fear tearing through her. Two strong hands settled on her shoulders and she flinched despite herself, her entire body trembling, her eyes and brain disoriented from the fall and the lack of oxygen and her fucking pounding headache. And she was really starting to wish she didn’t open her mouth.

Hero let out a sharp breath, a claw of panic grabbing at her chest as her eyes scanned the room searching for a window or anything that would tell her she wasn’t underground right now. She couldn’t… couldn’t breathe, oh fuck, there were no windows, there was a window in the cells, she gasped, pushing back against the chest shaking her head.

“Oh that’s right,” Supervillain cooed behind her, his voice painted with sick delight as his fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Villain told me you were claustrophobic. Does being underground trigger it, Hero?”

Hero drove her elbow back wildly hitting her mark, but Supervillain didn’t flinch or even grunt. Instead he grabbed her wrist, twisted her arm up and around her back, the other going to the back of her neck and slammed her down against the table.

“You really have no manners, Hero, do you know that?”

“F—fff— fuck you,” she said between fretful breaths. Every action, every movement was lessening and lessening, she only had a little bit of oxygen left in her lungs that was stuttering out. The walls pulsing closer, shrinking and she squeezed her eyes shut. At least the metal of the table was cool under her cheek.

Supervillain pushed her wrist further up her back until Hero was crying out, trying to kick back at Supervillain to get him to stop but the lack of oxygen in her lungs was dizzying as she scrambled. Her brain was fried, and she couldn’t remember any of her combat training as panic seized her throat.

She splayed her fingers, mind reaching, the invisible pull of her blades familiar as they rushed back to her hands. If she could just— two clangs against the door upstairs and Supervillain straightened, letting up some pressure. Hero pulled and pulled, trying to rip the daggers through the obstacle but Supervillain grabbed her splayed fingers and pushed them back down into a fist, smothering her connection to her daggers.

“No!” Hero wailed, struggling furiously under him, kicking back, trying to do anything, get anywhere away away away away from the danger, be able to breathe again properly. Her tears hit the metal table with wet, metallic drops, like a leaky tap dripping into the sink.

“What did I tell you about using your powers, Hero, hmm?”

“Let go of me, you fucking psychopath!” Hero cried, anger flooding her veins. With Supervillain’s hand off her neck, Hero threw herself back with a roar of adrenaline mixed with fury. Supervillain’s grip tightened on her wrist, about to push it up but Hero wedged a knee up between the table and shoved until the pair went stumbling.

Hero slipped free of Supervillain’s hold in his stunned state, but he recovered quickly, grabbing at her hoodie but Hero was too quick, and she was ascending the stairs, her breaths getting heavier but her breathing becoming even the closer she got to the surface.

She got to the door and grabbed the handle and shoved it open.

Only.

It didn’t open.

Hero stared. No. No. No, no, no, nonononono!

NO!

Hero slammed an open palm on the metal, screaming. “FLYNN! FLYNN I’M SORRY PLEASE! Please!”

Footsteps on the staircase. Hero slid down the door, banging weakly against it and crying out for Flynn to save her as Supervillain advanced again.

“Did you really think I’d leave a handle on the way out of this room, Hero?”

Hero swallowed the lump in her throat, focusing all her energy into the glare she shot at him, hoping he would melt right on the spot. Which he didn’t.

“You can come down and your punishment will be less severe than if I have to drag you down.”

“Fuck you,” she said, her voice cracking halfway through. She splayed her fingers again and wished, hoped, prayed that somehow they would get through the thick metal door she was trapped behind.

Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! What was she going to do? There was only one option for her right now and that was down, down into a tight, underground nightmare that was threatening to kill her. She needed— she needed to be able to breathe to think clearly, but even thinking was difficult at the thought of being dragged back down to Supervillain’s torture chamber.

Supervillain sighed, a few steps away from her. “Okay, Hero. Have it your way.”

He reached down and grabbed her ankle and turned to walk down the stairs. Hero kicked at him, landing a few solid ones on his arm and back before he was dragging her down and Hero’s head smacked off the concrete steps. She didn’t even have time to scream or groan or whine, small gasps at every bounce fogged her vision until she was back on solid ground.

Supervillain appeared above her, grabbing her, one arm under her shoulders, the other her knees as he bent over and scooped her up. She protested weakly, her brain rattled and her reaction time non-existent. Supervillain placed her on something cool under her skin, but she could feel something wet on the back of her head.

She reached a hand up to find the source of the wetness, but Supervillain grabbed her wrist before she could investigate and strapped it down to table in leather. He pulled the cuff tight around Hero’s wrist, so tight she couldn’t move it left or right, just up and down. She whined when he took her other wrist and restrained it the same way by her side. Then he moved onto her ankles and soon Hero couldn’t move an inch, her eyes glazed over and staring blankly above her.

Supervillain grabbed Hero’s cheek, appearing in her scope of vision, but there was two of him now, a shadow or a clone. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Hmph, you spoiled some of my fun, Hero. I was hoping to teach you this lesson to remember, but, oh well. I guess I’ll just have to leave a reminder for you when you’re more conscious, won’t I? Something you can’t ignore.”

Hero blinked at him, the entire world moved like cotton and she was completely out of it, Supervillain’s words echoing around her head. On loop over and over again, but still seemingly so far away.

“Lemme go,” she pleaded weakly, pulling at her restraints.

Supervillain smiled a wicked smile down at her. “I’m thinking something like a three strike system, Hero. Like tally marks or something to that effect. Something easy to understand, strike one was your insolence at dinner which will not be tolerated. What to do,” Supervillain mused stepped away from the metal table and out of sight.

Hero pulled against her restraints, trying to loosen them as hot tears ran down her cheeks. Flynn… she thought hopelessly. Please, please, rescue me. Please.

Supervillain returned to the table, a hunting knife in hand. “Wait, no, please.” Hero didn’t even know what she was protesting, but the words fell from her mouth anyways as Supervillain grabbed her right hand.

“Three strikes, Hero. While I know I could cuff you in power dampeners and leave you down here to hyperventilate all night I think this will be far more effective.”

“Tell me Hero,” Supervillain began as he started undoing the cuff of her right wrist. “Is it all knives you can summon with your ability?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Any will do.”

“Fascinating. And do they all sharpen your senses when you feel them in your hand?” Hero glared at him as he free her wrist and turned it so the back of her hand was positioned above the metal table. Hero didn’t bother asking him how he knew that, because she knew the answer he would be all too happy to supply. The reason Supervillain knew everything about her; Flynn told me.

“It depends on the knife,” Hero answered, the pained fog of her mind ebbing and flowing allowing some coherent thoughts to pass through her brain. “None are as good as my blades, but that’s because I made them myself.”

“I will never cease to be awed by adepts and their crafts,” Supervillain said fondly, tracing the tip of the hunting knife up Hero’s elbow and forearm before pinching it down slightly on Hero’s wrist. Hero didn’t dare struggle or move, afraid if she did the knife would slip and she would be dead. “But now that you’re more conscious, I’ll repeat your punishment.”

“We will do a three strike system, this is strike one. With every strike I will leave a wound on you, a scar that will remind you not to make another mistake again, okay?”

Hero shivered at how easy he explained his punishment system for her, as if he was telling her that her car needed an service or one day it would just stop. “Three strikes, and I will drag you along to watch Sidekick being murdered and you’ll know it was all your fault. Okay?”

“You’re a fucking—”

“Wonderful.”

In one quick movement, Supervillain slid Hero’s right hand over the rim of the table and plunged the hunting knife in all the way through her palm. A howling, banshee’s scream tore through Hero’s throat as she bucked against her restraints, howling and screaming: please, please, stop! Stop!

Tears and snot clogged her senses as she shook her head, her arm violently trembling against the trauma and Supervillain’s tight hold. Hero splayed her fingers on her left hand, trying to summon the knife out of her hand, but Supervillain’s grip was too strong, or Hero’s pull was too weak, and he twisted the knife in her hand instead, pulling more shrieking screams of pain from Hero.

“There, now. The first two strikes will be in your palms, Hero. To remind you that even if you try to fight back, with your knives or your words or otherwise, you,” he said, stressing the final words, “will fail.”

Hero sobbed as her fingers tried to curl around the blade but could barely move more than a flinch in any direction. Hero wouldn’t be able to summon her blade for this hand for a while, until the wound healed and even then? Would she get physio for the muscles and tendons Supervillain just cut through with a terrifying amount of strength?

Supervillain put a hand on Hero’s hair, brushing the strands from her face like a parent would a child who’s eating an ice cream and threatening to get their hair stuck in it, chiding but fond.

“This doesn’t have to happen again, Hero. We can be civil with each other. You and Flynn, I know you have a special connection. A bond. You can have a nice life here, free from the burdens of being a hero in this city, of always fighting uphill battles hmm? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Hero was shivering, staring up at Supervillain and she knew she probably looked sickly pale and ashen as she felt the blood harden around the blade in her palm, dripping down to the floor on the other side. She knew it would leave a scar, the reminder that Supervillain wanted her to know in her gut and it made her sick.

“So Hero,” Supervillain beamed, smiling down at her. “Will you behave?”

Hero’s bottom lip trembled as she nodded, warm tears flooding her cheeks as she sniffled. Supervillain’s smile turned softer, comforting, like a concerned parent. “Use your words, Hero.”

Hero sniffed. “Y-yes,” she croaked.

“Yes, what?”

Hero sucked in a breath. “I’ll… I’ll behave.”

Supervillain smiled. “Good. Good. Excellent. Now, let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

Supervillain removed her restraints and sat her up on the metal table, and said he’d be a minute getting the things he needed around the room.

Hero sat upright shaking violently and trying to hold her hand steady by supporting it with her free hand at the wrist. She stared blankly ahead, both staring at nothing and staring resolutely at one white painted brick, where the groove was a faded, paler white, less glaring at her while Supervillain gathered supplies.

Before too long Supervillain was in front of her, setting bandages and gauze and rubbing alcohol down on the tray beside the bed. Along with other stuff Hero wouldn’t think was necessary like a ruler and Q-tips and other supplies. He was wearing surgical gloves as well, and despite herself Hero was thinking about what he did for a living.

“Are you a doctor?” She asked, her voice hollow.

Supervillain smiled a secretive smile at the question, as if he just found her out. “Ah. You’ve noticed, have you?”

Every once in a while Hero forgot that Supervillain was her nemesis of the last year, the Moriarty to her Sherlock Holmes, the Joker to her batman, although really more like the Riddler with how elusive he was. When she considered Supervillain’s job back before she knew him, she suspected it would be something as cerebral, like a lawyer, or a judge, or a doctor. She didn’t feel good that she was right.

“Yes, I’ve been a doctor since medschool. Long hours, overworked conditions, but I won’t bore you with hospital tales, snd luckily for you I happen to be an acute trauma surgeon,” he told her, smiling up at her through his lashes. “So your hand won’t have too much lasting damage. I didn’t hit any of the important muscles or tendons.”

Hero gasped, which sounded more like a bewildered laugh, “thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

She hissed as Supervillain pressed down on the wound. He smiled. “Sorry, I just have to make sure I didn’t hit anything important. Okay, yes.”

He took a Q-tip from the table and said, “okay, Hero. I need you to remain as still as possible while I do this. Try not to move too suddenly.”

Hero let out a sharp gasp of pain aa Sueprvillain inserted the Q-tip through Hero’s wound until it almost poked out the other side. “You’re doing great Hero.”

But she wasn’t. She was going to be sick as he pulled it out and she saw the blood. The smell had never annoyed her before, but now the metallic kiss hung on the air like a factory that had to suddenly cease operations, a promise of something to come.

He set the Q-tip on the table and measured the blood stain against the ruler. Hero stared down at it, her vision blurring slightly as her mind went woozy and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Supervillain was standing over her hands on her shoulders sitting her back up again. Hero blinked, bile climbing up her throat.

“Here,” Supervillain said and shoved a bar of chocolate into Hero’s hand, the wrapper already opened. Hero blinked at it dumbly, and Supervillain gently guided it to her mouth. Hero took a small bite of the sweet, velvet chocolate. “You fainted. You’re okay. It’s normal with this kind of injury, but I would like you conscious while I tend to it.”

Hero blinked at him and when he was certain she wasn’t going to faint again he released her shoulders and Hero remained upright.

“If you’re a doctor…” Hero said, her head spinning, but she was determined to get this out of her head. “Didn’t you take an oath to do no harm?”

“Ah,” Supervillain smiled. “Yes. The hippocratic oath. I did.”

“Then how can you justify this?” Hero asked, nodding to her hand. Supervillain was silent for a moment, dabbing at the bleeding of the wound, staunching the blood and cleaning around it. His movements were so methodical, so clean and purposeful, Hero found their eyes drawn to it as she took another bite of chocolate.

“Where I stabbed you, Hero, is a very delicate place to be stabbed. There is a flurry of activity in the centre of your palm.” Supervillain squeezed just below the wound and Hero squirmed with a groan. “Here is your carpal ligament that controls the movement of your thumb, index and middle finger.”

He squeezed Hero’s thumb and said: “and here are all the muscles for full use of your thumb. If I went too far to the right I could risk damaging the ligaments that connect to your other two fingers, or hitting a clump of nerves.”

Supervillain dropped Hero’s hand and held up his own, pinching the spot the dagger went through Hero’s palm. “Here, there is a hole in your hand. No bone, no muscle, no nerves or ligaments. Minimal damage and less time for recovery. No need for more than standard hand physio and six weeks recovery at most.”

Supervillain smiled at Hero. “The Hippocratic Oath is an oath all doctors must take to do no harm. However, all doctors must accept that in order to make something better, there must first be pain. To treat the sick they must make the sick endure the pain, and fight infection, the body must fight.”

“Your defiance, in the long run, will make you worse than if I curb it now. So I am doing no harm, by ensuring that you quit fighting me unnecessarily. The same way I am trying to stop this city from running straight to ruin.”

“I must do no harm,” his smile was warm, “as a doctor. But as a civilian I can’t stand by and watch this city burn. Does that answer your question?”

Hero stared. Then shrugged with their good shoulder. “Not really, but I’m kinda woozy from blood loss right now.”

Supervillain laughed. “Mmm, let’s do something about it.”

Supervillain worked fast, careful to only press too hard when Hero gave him a snarky reply, and later on she would wonder how she got so comfortable with the man bandaging her up being the same man that stabbed her in the first place. She would attribute it to blood loss and Supervillain would bandage her head and help her up the stairs he threw her down before, and when they got into the kitchen he gave her painkillers and water.

Flynn rushed through the doors, his heart racing when he saw Hero. Her head bandaged and her hand bound so tight and thick that Hero couldn’t close her fingers even if she wanted to.

“H-Hero?” He asked, breathless. Hero smiled at him when he came in and waved. Flynn was by her side in a second, while Supervillain stopped chatting to her about the reason they chose to replace the black and white tiles for the floor in the kitchen. “Are you okay? Hero, oh—”

“She’s fine,” Supervillain said lightly. “We’ve cleared the air, haven’t we Hero?”

Hero nodded, smiling at Flynn. Something she’d attribute to her concussion later because everything was just a little too smiley, a little too comfortable, a little too easy, and she wasn’t entirely convinced that Supervillain didn’t give her the floating, high end painkillers.

“I’m fine.”

“I heard the screaming,” Flynn said, his hands going to Hero’s cheeks, checking her over and looking for any sign that she was lying to him. Other than her too large pupils she seemed okay. “I— your daggers— you—”

Hero grabbed Flynn’s hand with her unbandaged one and interlaced their fingers. “I’m okay. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Tears brimmed on top of Flynn’s bottom eyelids as he looked at Hero, his Hero, acting so unlike herself. So compliant and soft. It made him ill, the fact that he was the reason Hero was injured in the first place. That she was being subjected to the whims of his family.

God, he didn’t think Dad would do this…

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Hero asked with wide eyes.

Flynn ran a thumb over her bruised cheek, his touch featherlight. “Of course. Will you give out to me tomorrow about it?”

She shrugged happily. “Probably.”

Flynn laughed, and leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’d love to.”

Flynn helped her stand, and wrapped his fingers around hers keeping her close. “Be sure she doesn’t sleep for the next hour or two.”

“We can watch a movie!” Hero said, her voice light and chirpy, so like it was when she’d get excited before that it made Flynn’s heart ache.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat as he guided her out of the kitchen, away from his father and up the stairs to her room, terrified that if he dropped her hand for even a second he would lose her forever. “We can watch a movie.”

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call: (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill @0eggdealer @watermelonrandom @tippytappytyping @swift-perseides @gloriousqueen101 @isnortkoolaidpowderteehee @jumpywhumpywriter @bitter-space @lumpofsand

@xxgalgurlxx @silentpotat0 @ladygwennn @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

[faaun]

idk how to live so im going to talk to myself out loud until i do

[haarute]

had a bad bout with mother ✌️

[youaremysunshine-court]

.

[screampied]

hey i LOVE your work and ykk ou ur toji is just like… UGHHHH

could you do a mean toji who just mocks the reader and makes fun of her while she gets off on him (like idk his thighs or whatever) or when he fucks her? i feel like you would write this very well;)

❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji mocking your moans while you ride him

warnings. fem! reader, thigh riding & cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, ōrgasm denial, breath play, spanking. + thank you sm !! mdni

“we’re quite handsy today, huh,” he’d mumble once his eyes flicker down towards your nude body—you suck in a single breath as he’s got you just barely straddling his lap. with an unsatisfied pout, you’re just here moving up and down against his beefy thigh—oh so desperately wishing that you were riding him instead of his stupid, stupid leg. toji’s amusement only fuels the more you frown and scowl, pawing your hands up his perfectly chiseled thighs before he snickers. “what’s the issue? my thigh not enough to satisfy the pretty girl?”

“no..” you immediately say, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. he could hear the irritation linger on your tone before you bury your face into his neck . . a good waft of his loud cologne scent infiltrating inside your nostrils.

two rugged hands drag down your back, sending you multiple shivers from his touch before he replies in a hoarse tone. “well, that’s too damn bad,” and his chortling laugh only makes you throb from how close it’s against your ear—fuck. “actually, y’know what. i feel like bein’ nice today, baby. you want more than my thigh? how ‘bout ya jus’ ask me nicely.”

“but—”

“but—nothin’ girl, now speak,” toji utters, feeling your grinding against his thigh—grabbing your chin softly before making you stare him right in the eyes. he slyly grins, a thumb tracing down your dampened lip. “i’ll wait.. talk to me nice, girl.”

your eyes avert towards his dick, just laying there on his stomach—so ridiculously lengthy, a mere tannish color coats it - including his leaky tip that stares right back at you.

it looks so good, you wanted him inside so bad that it hurts—he could tell too, you found it hard to stay still as you made a cute attempt at rutting against him once more.

“i— i want you, ‘toji,” you claw at his body with doe lit eyes, his swollen base—so full of unused seed that you desperately yearned for it to be inside of you, filling up your pretty little womb. “want you s'bad.”

“oh i know you do, babygirl,” he rasps, he can’t help but notice the sudden boner that makes his jaw tighten. coarse big hands grip both of your hips before he gawks at you with that same tantalizingly smug grin. “can’t just spoil ya all the time though, talk more for me. i like listenin’ to that needy voice.”

ugh, you start to grow impatient and he only laughs at your sheer annoyed expense.

“please,” you murmur out in a whiney tone, slowly wrapping your clammy fingers around his length. he doesn’t stop you, he lets you touch all over him, aligning yourself with the fat weight of his cock that was just aching to be buried within you. “i wanna ride you so bad, ‘toj. need it, need your cum.”

“girl you don’t need . . . shit,” he swallows, a cold sweat breaking onto him.

you’re fucking hot—especially whenever you just take what you want, toji could have creamed his pants at just your voice and your voice alone.

you had him so hard, he sucks his teeth in total exasperation before he feels you slowly start to sink him down. “fuck, y’er such a little brat,” he mutters, feeling the warmth of your walls swallow him whole. it was a moist feeling, you were already a bit soaked—purely from riding his thigh for how many minutes, you weren’t even sure anymore, nor did you even relatively care. “ride me then, do y’er fuckin’ worst then.”

“shut up and i will.” you snap back.

he rolls his eyes, feeling your ass thrash against his lap and it makes him squeeze the plush mounds of your rear.

“eh, i really don’t like that mouth,” and he spanks you harder, this time it stings and you moan—he’s so thick that your stomach starts to seize once you feel him gradually reach into the depths of your pussy. “when you ride me, there shouldn’t be any back talk, girl,” and he grabs your chin for the nth time, pressing a sweltering wet kiss right onto your glossed lips. “. . . are we clear or do i gotta let this pussy know what goes ‘round here.”

…so cocky,

you gnaw at your lip—fighting back the urge to roll your own eyes backwards before you thrust against him harder.

it’s relentless, the brutal skin-to-skin contact makes a raw moan harshly yank from the back of your throat as your hands continue to claw on his chest.

his bare chest that was already glistening with droplets of sweat. he was so toned, his pecs—his nipples that were swollen and a sheeny pink color, you even attempt to lean in to lap your tongue against his nipple but he lightly shoves you back.

“leave those alone, slut,” and you conceal back a laugh—by 'those', he was most likely referring to his tits broad pecs. “ride me, ‘n hurry up. ‘m gonna fall asleep at this rate.”

toji never knew how to simply shut the fuck up, such a talkative man—whispering filthy sweet nothings into your ear as you’re taking every thick inch of his cock. he stretches you out so good that you’re already whimpering, eyes goggling profusely at the way his angry tip just thwacks and thwacks against your g-spot. “s-shiiit, toji,” you’d curse out in a sharp breath, continuing to drag your hips further against him at such a pace.

in and out, in and out, you’re rotating your waist a bit before he grunts lowly, head throwing back and he smacks your ass yet again, and again, and again. “fuck yeah, ride me jus’ like that. such a good girl, takin’ this dick like the good girl you are, mhm.”

“t—tojiiiii,” you’d mewl out right against the flapping shell of his ear. your cunt felt so stuffed, a straining exhale snatches from your lungs before you whimper once his base kisses against your ass. his base was so full, you only imagined how much build up cum was stored in there just for you.

“t—tojiiiiiii,” he mimics your tone as you mash against him, the sofa he sits on sinking down a bit from both weights combined. you pout once he starts mocking you, a gruff laugh dies from his throat before he squeezes your right ass cheek. “feels good, yeah? keep moanin’ for me like that.”

“shut up, s-shut uppp,” you moan, burying your face into his neck. doing so, you get a concise whiff of his cheap cologne and it smells so good. you’re a mess, spasming as your stomach continues to seize before he grabs both of your hips so that you could slam down onto him even harder. “close, toji. ‘m really close, fuck.”

he groans, feeling the hefty weight of his balls smack against your skin each time you move up, then down, then up . . . all over again. toji’s a big guy, it was no secret. the way your pussy constricts around his length, paving way for more movement . . . simply hypnotizing.

“yeahhh,” he snarls, strong hands still attached to your ass. green irises of his dilate, his eyes turn hooded for a second as he glances back at you. an entire mess, tongue all lolled out and you’re feeling it steadily about to approach. “look so fuckin’ dumb,” he points out with a subtle head shake, grabbing your chin again. “my dumb baby,” he corrects himself and your pout softens.

he’s so fucking big— you’ll point this out a million times if you have to, the stretch was so immaculate.

toji groans, pressing another saturated kiss onto your lips and you taste a brief mixture of his saliva and alcohol—presumably rum, you lean into his touch before feeling his big hands snake near your neglected tits. his growing stubble tickles against your face as you quicken your pace. so good, so fucking good.

all you can think about is that you’re getting off, you’re about to finish— gush out so much, you feel a familiar pit in your stomach arise. he feels you starting to shake and twitch, it’s cute.

“. . easy, now,” he teases, finding it adorable how whenever your orgasm approaches—you’d be an entire mess, pussy convulsing all on his cock as if it was the first time you ever took him. “oh my just look at that pout,” he points out, reaching towards your chin before bringing you all up close towards his face. not to mention, toji’s so pretty up close—ten times more intimidating with his low hazy eyes and wide sleazy smile. “such a baby. want me to talk ya through it?”

“p—please,” you whine, barely even giving him a chance to finish his seductive sentence.

with a playful eyebrow furrow, he makes you grind against him even harder. the sofa creaks and you squeak out a whimper, feeling yourself about to make such a mess. “please, please,” he copies your tone again, and it’s so embarrassing. toji purposely pitches his tone to sound like you and he snickers at the growing glare on your face. “please what, babygirl?”

with an irritated grumble, your flimsy arms still thrown over him, you moan out a desperate, “please let me c-cum. toji, i want it s’bad, pleaseplease let me be a messy girl.”

“. . . ahhhh,” he parts his lips, and he’s oh so dramatic, flickering his eyes towards the ceiling as if he’s deep in thought. “let me think about it.”

you didn’t know how much you could take, you’re sopping wet and his raspy deep voice that was right up against your earlobe doesn’t make things any better.

jagged breaths rip out from your esophagus as your shaky limbs could barely keep themselves up. he cackles, feeling your soft quavering lips kiss near his face, brushing against the scar that runs near the right lower part of his lip. it twitches as a response from your touch, how cute..

“hurry the fuck up then, lay it all on me,” he finally grunts, witnessing the way your dilated irises light up at his sudden permission— you whimper out, finally coming undone and it’s like a rough wave that crashes over you. the calm before the storm, once it comes, you’re left pulsating with his thick dick still buried inside of your cunt. you hug him tight with your walls like a vice, never wanting to let go. “you make such the silliest noises, girl.”

“s— shut up,” you moan, the under parts of your thighs aching heavily as you’re still in the midst of your teeth-shattering release. it feels so good, your maw drops and the contracts inside of your pussy only duplicates. it’s mouth watering, you grind against him just slightly and he spanks your ass, head going back. “i- i love you, toji.”

“i love me too,” he jibes with a cocky grin, sweat beads racing down the sides of his brow. you shoot him a glare and he rolls his eyes for the nth time. “. . kidding,” and he plants a kiss near your forehead, rough hand still attached to your right ass cheek like velcro. “i love you too, sweetheart.”

you’re still panting, but he’s clearly not done talking— it’s toji, figures.

“now bend the fuck over,” he grouses, eyes gazing towards your ass— a tongue goes against his lips like he was preparing for an appetizing meal. “i’m not finished. we gotta work on that lazy arch of yours, girl.”

[messylustt]

 ݁   𓂃 ៸៸៸ deer in headlights — rafe cameron + reader ( obx ) : when trying to help your sad friend at a party leads to an unexpected kiss from rafe.

contents : slight dick!rafe. nsfw intentions (not full on sex tho). slight dubcon (not heavy or roughly forced) tittie licking/sucking. tittie grab. kissing.

your eyes scanned the party mess. it had only been an hour or so. but more than likely people came drunk way before. most go from party to party, trying to find one that won’t get busted. we’ll see how long this one lasts.

girls yelping, some giggling, most a boy crazy mess. guys hollering, others giggling themselves, nearly twirling their hair at the bent over girls “enjoying” their drinks. you couldn’t help but smile. even though you never found yourself in the centre of it all, you were far from hating the experience.

but that’s when you spotted your friend, scarlet, bolt upstairs, pushing her sleeve down to her fingertips to wipe the mix of tears and mascara from her face. you stood up, tilting past the edge of the couch to reach her.

“scarlet!” you call, trying to quicken your steps. what had happened? she either ignores you or simply can’t hear over the drowning base of the music.

you follow her upstairs. “scarlet?” you call again. and this time she shifts her gaze, her head turning towards you.

“hey..” you smile softly reaching her side. “what’s wrong? why the tears?”

scarlets bottom lip quivers, even if she trying to force it down, while her brows remain furrowed and bent with hurt. she looks as though she wishes to say something, but then she gulps. her expression pales as she rushes into the bathroom, but not before she shuts the door stopping you from entering.

scarlet was always a little complicated. easily embarrassed despite her confidence.

there’s a moment where all you can hear is puking as you try to turn the handle finding that the door is locked. “no. don’t come in.” she says, breathless after a moment.

“scarlet—“ you say in protest, wanting to help. “no! please.” she replies, cutting you off.

you sigh, knowing she hates anyone seeing her puke. “i just wanna help.” you try.

“no I—“ you can hear her hiccuped breathing. “i don’t want him to know…” her tone is almost pitiful.

“who?” you ask standing by the door.

“kelce…”

“kelce?” your brows furrow before thinning out. “is he the boy you kept telling me about?”

she sniffles. “maybe..”

“scarlet…” you say softly “what happened?”

“it was a joke. all of it. ‘sleep with the slut’.” she scoffs. “just because i like boys…a lot of them doesn’t mean i’m some…look liking dick shouldn’t be some god awful issue.”

your brows furrow again, but this time in anger. you hadn’t known kelce that well. only through living on this island, like most. but you had thought he was merely a guy looking to stay ‘cool’ or ‘popular’, not an outright dick.

not like his friend, rafe. rafe cameron. now, if anyone was to easily be called a ‘dick’ it would be him.

“are you sure i can’t come in?” you ask. “please just…” she replies, to which you ease her. “it’s okay. just relax…let me go get you some water.”

you rush back downstairs, squeezing past the out of tuned drunks, and high teens. you head to the kitchen. but as you do, you catch a conversation going on in the hallway.

“i fucked her over man…” the voice, you can identify as kelce’s. “i…why did i do that?”

“hey, calm down. don’t get worked up alright?” the other voice…rafe’s.

“nah man..” kelce sounds stressed, almost on the verge of tears.

“listen to me man. it was a stupid joke. she shouldn’t have taken it to heart, yeah?” rafe’s tone is dismissing towards scarlet, which honestly doesn’t leave you very surprised.

“fuck..” kelce mutters “but now she doesn’t…want me…want anything to do with me most likely.”

“then move on.” rafe replies, speaking as though that concept is a breeze.

“move on…” kelce mutters, repeating slowly.

“yeah, move on. you’re at a party for christs sake. have fun. plenty of girls around.” rafe replies, hitting kelce’s shoulder by the sounds of it.

you peek slightly round the corner to watch them.

kelce sighs rubbing his head roughly.

“go get ‘em man. go on” rafe pats kelce’s back as he slightly pushes him towards the heat of the party. you quickly return behind the doorway as he passes.

you wait a moment before looking back to where they were talking to find rafe staring straight back at you. you pause, blinking. rafe’s head tilts, his expression not one of surprise, as if he had spotted you the moment your head poked out.

“you always eavesdrop?” rafe takes a swig from his beer. you step out, darting your gaze slightly.

“i was just getting some water…for my friend.” you reply as he begins to head over to you.

“yeah?” he hums nodding, as he stops a few step distances from you. “does that water trip include spying?”

“i didn’t catch much.” you reply.

“yeah, how much did you catch, deer?” he asks, his gaze darting over your face and down your body as if he’s trying to place you.

your brows furrow. “didn’t know you were one for…names like that.”

rafe scoffs “i meant ‘deer’ as in a deer caught in headlights, not the other ‘dear’.” he says tapping his beer bottle on your nose, gesturing to your round eyes.

your nose scrunches in response as you lean back, rubbing it. “i’m not ‘caught in headlights.’”

“no?” he replies. “or maybe you’re just starstruck.”

“by you?” you ask raising your brows. “i’m sorry, but you don’t have that ‘wonder’ to you, rafe.”

“a lot of girls think different.” he replies. “you’d look at me with ‘wonder’ if you’ve been seeing stars all night.”

you pause, staring at him, before his words register. “ew, rafe.”

“ouch.” he replies, completely unbothered, taking a swig.

“the majority of people who you make see ‘stars’ are those who have a ‘your-shaped-fist’ indent in their face.” you say edging back into the kitchen, preferring that this conversation ends sooner than later.

rafe scoffs, his face dropping, as he steps after you. “you’re not clever.”

“you seemed affected though.”

“re-size your brain, it ain’t that big”

you raise your hands in innocence, as you turn towards the sink, grabbing a clean empty glass. rafe leans up again the kitchen island, his legs planted in a slight spread.

you glance back at him, wondering why he’s still here.

he watches you.

“look, i’m sorry for eavesdropping. i only cared because…” you pause instinct telling you not to talk about your friend with the likes of rafe. but he clearly already knows.

“oh you got a reason? you’re not just simply…nosy?” rafe gives a fake-surprised look, as you stare blankly at him.

“you’re talking as if you know me.”

“i do know you.” he replies simply.

“no, um…you don’t.” you look confused.

“yeah…i do.”

“maybe we’ve had like…one proper conversation…” you say.

“nah, more than that.” why rafe is saying such simple sentences is a bother to you.

“alright, well…just because we’ve talked a couple times doesn’t mean you ‘know’ me.” you say filling the glass up with water looking back to the sink.

“you think I pay no attention to the people on this island?”

“yeah, sure, briefly. i do the same.” you reply shrugging. “you’re acting as though you know my favourite colour or something.”

“orange.”

you look to rafe, staring at him. “what?”

he crosses his arms, placing his beer to the side. “no, obviously i don’t know your favourite colour. i’m talking about behavioural observations, not stalker material, doll.”

“i thought you weren’t one for names like that.”

“i’m not.” he replies so simply again.

you look back to him seeing that he’s not going to explain any further. “okay…” you mutter moving past him with the glass of water.

“that for kelce’s fuck buddy?” rafe asks staying against the island.

you pause “I’m sorry?”

“what’s her name again?” rafe hums. “sophie?”

“scarlet.” you say with a frown. “and she was never kelce’s fuck buddy. she liked him.”

“yeah, most do like who they fuck.” rafe turns to you.

you narrow your gaze. “your buddy kelce may have thought of it like that, but she never did.”

“hearts break.” rafe states stepping closer “big deal.”

“yeah, it is a big deal. she’s hurt. and fair enough, cause if I got treated like that I’d react the same.”

“would you?” rafe asks. “have you?”

“gotten treated like that? luckily no. but it’s because she puts herself out there way more than me. she’s confident. actually gives it a go.”

“what a star.” rafe mocks.

“you’re all talk, rafe.” you say “because if a girl hurt you like that, I’d think you’d be worse.”

“really?” he looks down at you. “and what happened to not knowing each other that well?”

“you’re a loud bully. i’d have to be deaf not to easily hear about the things you’ve done.”

“you make it sound so dramatic.” rafe scoffs.

“you are rather dramatic.”

“look, doll,” rafe begins leaning down to level with you. “you can nurse sophie back all you want, comfort her, but you’re really not helping.”

“how so? do you have a better idea to help?” you ask raising your brows.

“yeah.” rafe says darting his gaze “enjoy the party. let them deal with it.”

“deal with it? you told kelce to go scout the girls here.” you say.

“yeah, and you actually think he listened to that? kelce is a bleeding heart. sensitive like a fucking kids movie.” rafe states. “no, he’s gone to talk to her. she’s crying in the bathroom right? i guarantee he’s there too.”

“and what makes you think she’d want to see him?”

rafe shrugs. “not our problem.”

“she’s my friend. of course it’s—“

but rafe cuts in, grabbing your shoulders. “not. our. problem.” he states slowly. “you think you rushing in there is going to help? they need to talk. kelce needs to talk.” rafe chuckles. “though if I were him, I wouldn’t bother, find someone new.”

“well thank god she didn’t sleep with you.” you mutter.

“jealous?”

“oh yes.” you nod sarcastically. “wouldn’t want her stealing you away.”

rafe’s lips quirk up. “yeah?”

“you look way too happy that i said that.” you eye him.

rafe grabs his beer off the kitchen island, bringing it between you both. “drink.”

you look at the bottle then back to his face. you shake your head. but rafe just nods, bringing the bottle to your lips. you lift your hand to protest but your glass of water spills a fraction making your hands pause, and giving him enough time to tilt the beer into your mouth.

you’re instinct is to swallow, before you step back, wiping your lips. “ew, rafe.”

“do you find everything disgusting or just when it involves me?” rafe asks taking a sip of his own from the beer bottle.

you meet his gaze staying silent, as he frowns.

“i’m not some troll.” he scoffs.

“could’ve fooled m—“

but rafe cuts in. “don’t finish that.”

you press your lips together, almost smiling, despite yourself.

“don’t smile either.” this time rafe looks disgusted. “you look demented…” he then pauses. “…or pretty, hard to say.”

you scoff “great save.”

“i try.” his lips quirk up again. he looks around a moment before his smile fades, finding a certain spot behind you.

you look behind you also seeing a girl who’s gaze is hardened on you both. you shift your gaze back to rafe but he’s far closer then before. you instinctively lean back.

“don’t be annoying now.” rafe says.

“i’m just moving back.” you reply, not seeing the problem.

“hm.” rafe hums, rolling his eyes. though that action doesn’t seem to be for you, but for the girl staring.

“katie, right?” you say in reference to the girl.

“ew.” rafe replies.

“ew?”

“i thought you were well aquatinted with that word?” he steps closer to you, glaring at the girl. “what a pest.” he mutters.

you look back to katie, who’s gaze hasn’t shaken. “you with her or something?”

“don’t ever say that again.” rafe says harshly. “little bitch doesn’t know when to quit.”

“it must be that ‘wonder’ you possess.” you say shrugging.

rafe looks to you, deadpanned. “funny.”

“i’m just saying. which is why i’m confused that you’re bothered.”

“when I kiss someone, i want to like it.” rafe states blandly. “i didn’t like it, so that’s why she’s not over here and instead over there.”

you stare at him. “okay. then have you talked with her about that?”

“uh huh.” rafe says. “in one ear and out the other.”

rafe then focuses fully on you, an idea almost displayed in his eyes. you look back at him confused, your eyes darting a little nervously at the intensity of his sudden attention.

“are you a good kisser?”

rafe’s question makes you pause, even more confused, your eyes widening a fraction. “what?”

“c’mere.” he murmurs, his finger curling into one of your jean loops at your hips.

“wow, wow—“ you rush out placing your hands on his chest as he tugs you closer.

“look convincing.” he hums tilting your chin up. his lips reach yours, stepping against you.

your eyes flutter shut at the closeness. his mouth moves against yours, finding your bottom lip as his tongue drags. the suddenness of it all makes your head spin.

rafe begins to smile against your mouth, either at katie’s reaction, or potentially yours. his tongue doesn’t let up as it slides between your lips, reaching your own. his hand grabs your glass placing it aside before he reaches for your hair sliding his fingers between the strands.

your lips feel wet now, swollen, as you clench at his shirt to breath. he lets up leaning back a fraction. you’re blinking, licking your own lips in shock. you knew they were now red.

“what…what was that?” you whisper. you pause then glance back to katie who’s gaze is like thunder but she finally looks away, heading outside to the busy pool. “oh...” you say. “to make her jealous? really?”

“no, to make her leave.” rafe replies, his tone almost distant, as his gaze is stuck on your mouth. he then leans down and kisses you again, stopping your tongue from dragging along your lip repeatedly. he was far too eager this time around.

and this time you step back.

rafe nearly follows your lips.

“rafe…she’s gone, you can stop now.” you mutter fixing your hair.

rafe then murmurs. “didn’t I say if i don’t like it leave?”

“which is rather rude when you’re actually kissing a girl.” you reply, a little flustered, as you reach for the glass.

rafe slides it away. “you kissed back.”

“i was surprised.” you say.

“glad you have that instinct then.” rafe muses. to which you turn away aiming to leave the kitchen.

but rafe steps after you. “what, going back to sophie?”

“scarlet.” you say. “and yes. I’ve left her for too long.”

rafe blocks your exist. “you don’t like me, i get that. but if you want to help your friend, let them talk. and in the mean time, enjoy yourself.”

“so you’re suggesting I go outside then? maybe to the pool.” you say, as he shakes his head.

“no idiot. here. with me.”

“now that’s the kind of name i thought you’d prefer saying.” you reply. “and…no…thank you.” you say trying to move past him.

“you’re a good kisser.”

“how sweet. move please” you say.

“my god, you really hate me, huh?” he chuckles

“i dont know you enough enough to hate you.” you say “but i do dislike you…so….close.”

“at least I’m not at the far end of the spectrum.” rafe hums, getting closer and fiddling with the end of your shirt.

“you’re close.” you say trying to move his hand away.

“but not there.”

“rafe, what do you want?” you sigh, looking up at him.

“i wanna see if you look more like a ‘deer’ when my hand is actually doing something.” he murmurs for your ears only.

“I’m sorry?” i stare at him, surprised as if he hadn’t just randomly kissed you before.

“relax.” rafe murmurs, pressing against you. “ease up, baby.”

all you manage to do is stare as your body registers the feel of his.

“yeah…” he hums, tugging at your hair slightly. “like that.”

“rafe…” you say, still confused by his actions.

“come on,” he chuckles lowly. “it’s a party. don’t tell me you don’t enjoy it?”

“i do, it’s just—“

but he cuts you off, his breath hitting your cheek. “then left your shirt up, lemme see…”

your stomach fills with butterflies, your eyes darting over his face.

“listen, I’m bored.” rafe says his lips now pressed to your ear, his hand squeezing your waist. “and…i liked the kiss. so I’m thinking I’ll like the rest of you.”

“you’re—you’re just overly horny.” you say.

“and who’s fault is that?”

“hey, you were the one who kissed me.” you say.

he smiled as his hand sunk under your shirt to your stomach.

“rafe—“

“shh.” he hushed, looking down at your shirt and his hand underneath. he lifted the material. you move to grab the shirt, embarrassed at the exposure.

“please, doll, just a quick look.” he says. “none of this has to mean a thing, i promise.” his hand grips your shirt.

and strangely, as he tugs you to a darker corner of the kitchen, his hands lifting your shirt to reveal your bra, and the hum that follows, makes you wonder if he really means that promise.

because as soon as his finger traces the cup before slipping inside, and brushing right over your nipple, the look in his eyes changes.

you can’t pinpoint what it changes to, but his following action, with the grip in your hair is clearly a new promise.

if he doesn’t like it he leaves.

but what happens when he does like it?

he grins nearly cooing at your concentrated face. “don’t think too hard.” he hums as he rubs your nipple and breast making your breathing hitch. “keep that head small for me, doll. you’re a very pretty deer when caught in headlights.”

“you just like me dumb.” you say, understanding his words.

his grin merely grows, as he pushes your bra cup aside completely holding and grabbing your breast. “well, when you’re smart you’d push me away.”

you nod, as he nods too, chuckling. he then forces you to arch against him, as he leans down, keeping eye contact.

he swirls his finger around your nipple. “should I turn this red too?”

the moment his tongue reaches your nipple, tingles run up your spine. and as he begins to suck, the tease in his voice leaves him as he murmurs a simple “fuck.”

your stomach churns, as he nods, almost answering himself with a name he claims to dislike. “yeah…baby, don’t move”

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[blueicequeen19]

Drunken State pt. 2

Warnings: creampie, jealousy, mentions of cheating, somno, oral

Part One

You’ve managed to dodge Pope and his innocent advances for almost two days after a night of explosive orgasms with a drunk JJ. It was a simple mistake. Just two friends with similar needs.

It wasn’t supposed to happen again. And again.

It hadn’t even been 48 hours yet and JJ Maybank had been inside you more often than not. You’d find yourself in a room with all your friends and JJ would give you that look that made your blood heat and pussy pulse.

Now you found yourself cornered in the bathroom again, his cock hammering into you from your spot on the counter while your friends were all outside for a bonfire.

“I’m close.” You moaned into his ear, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as he grunted his pleasure.

“I know. You’re squeezing me so fuckin tight.” JJ groaned, his hands squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise.

“When are you gonna let me taste you?” You whisper, digging your nails into his back as he bares his teeth.

“Shit, don’t say shit like that.” JJ hisses, his body growing taunt like he’s trying to hold back.

“You don’t want to cum down my throat, J?” You purr, tightening your legs around his waist and squeezing hard. JJ moans loudly, his orgasm ripped from him as his eyes roll back. You smile in satisfaction even if it meant you didn’t have time to get yours. The power you had over him was intoxicating. This game had become too much fun.

“Fuck.” JJ growls, cupping your jaw and bringing you in for a hard kiss. “Stop making me cum without you.” JJ snags your bottom lip between his teeth, his cock still pulsing inside you.

“Never.”

Minutes later, you’re cleaning up in the bathroom while JJ rejoins the party. You’ve just finished fixing your hair when you hear raised voices in the living room.

“I’ve been waiting outside for you. What were you doing?” Your body bristles at the sound of JJ’s exs voice. Why was she here?

“You cheated on me so what does it matter?” JJ fires back, dread filling you at the direction this could turn. JJ was impulsive and unpredictable when cornered.

“We didn’t break up so if you’re screwing some other bitch then you’re cheating on me.” Oh fuck.

“Seems only fair, right?”

“Yo, what’s going on?” You froze at the sound of Pope’s voice, the front door swinging closed behind him. “Where’s Y/N?” Pope asked, your stomach dropping to the floor.

“Y/N? Is that who you’re fucking? That bitch over me?” This couldn’t be happening.

“What is she talking about?” Pope demands back.

“Don’t listen to her, Pope. She’s only happy if she’s running her mouth.” JJ snaps.

“I don’t remember hearing you ever complain about my mouth.” His ex fire back, satisfaction in her voice. Jealousy weighed you down, threatening to drown you as you fought to remain hidden.

“Get out!” JJ shouted, making you jump from the harshness in his voice. There was a long pause followed by the slamming of the front door. Only then did you release the breath you’d been holding.

“Where is Y/N?” Pope asks, the accusation clear in his voice.

“She said she was tired and went to her room.” There was another long pause that made you wish to see what was silently passing between them. You didn’t want to hurt Pope.

“We’re about to put the fire out for the night. Are you about to go to bed too?” Pope asked.

“Yea, I’m beat.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in the morning.” The front door opened and shut, giving you the all clear to slip from the bathroom. You cracked the door open to see JJ downing a beer in the kitchen, his eyes finding yours almost instantly.

“This is done until we come clean to Pope.” You said, flinching when he threw the beer bottle in the trash and raked a hand through his hair.

“Fine. Whatever.” JJ snapped, following Pope outside as you turned to find your bedroom.

Your heart hurt but it couldn’t be helped. You didn’t want to risk hurting anyone or your relationship with the rest of the group. A night alone would be good for the both of you.

Your eyes fluttered open on a soft moan as heat spread between your legs and left your clit throbbing. It took a moment to fully wake up before you felt the hands on your thighs and the tongue between your lips. Rings dug into your skin and you gasped, arching your back off the bed. It was impossible to fight the pleasure after denying yourself earlier. His skilled tongue was dragging you towards something explosive and your body was begging for it.

“Don’t scream.” JJ growled, before sucking hard on your clit and burying two fingers inside your pussy. You slapped a hand over your mouth as your body bowed off the bed and you came hard. His tight grip on your thighs kept you grounded as you rode out the high and were reduced to a shaking, withering mess.

“JJ.” You panted as he threw the blanket off and crawled up your body. His lips claimed yours in a wet kiss as he forced you to taste yourself. The head of his cock nudged your clit over and over again through the thin layer of his boxers, leaving a mess across the fabric.

“I can’t stay away from you.” JJ admitted, tugging on your peaked nipples through your sleep shirt.

“Get on the floor.” You urged, pushing at his chest and following him down onto your discarded blanket. JJ kicked off his boxers and sat up as you straddling his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You sank down on him with ease, your pulsing wet walls welcoming him as he moaned in your ear.

JJ yanked your shirt off to claim one of your nipples in his mouth as you started to ride him.

“Oh, fuck.” JJ groaned around your flesh, his hands on your hips urging you faster.

“You’re reckless.” You growl against his lips, suddenly irritated that he couldn’t listen for even one night. His teeth smacked yours as you bounced, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Is that all?” JJ smirked against your lips, thrusting up into you.

“Impulsive.” Thrust.

“What else?” Thrust.

“Irritating.” Thrust.

“You don’t feel irritated.” Another hard thrust had your jaw clenching as you fought off the impending pleasure.

“J.” You bit out as his mouth moved to your neck, biting and licking at the sensitive skin.

“You feel ready to cum. Like you’re holding back because you want to be mad at me.” JJ taunted, digging his fingers into your hips as he forced you to bounce harder. “Have you ever been able to stay mad at me?” JJ whispered harshly, holding you tighter as he rolled his hips and hit something even deeper inside you. You bit down on his shoulder as you came, meeting every roll of his hips with your own while he grunted in your ear.

“That’s my girl.” JJ slapped your ass before rolling you both over. A pillow was stuffed under your ass and your legs thrown over his shoulder just as he began to hammer into you. The floor was uncomfortable but you couldn’t risk waking your friends with the headboard slapping against the wall. And watching JJ sweat just did something to you.

“Oh, fuck.” You rasped, his cock reaching an even deeper spot. Your fingers found your nipples, pulling and twisting the hardened peaks while pleasure shot up your spine. JJ couldn’t tear his eyes away, blue eyes nearly black with desire as you played with yourself.

“You’re so fucking hot like this.” JJ growled, his hands digging into your thighs as he pounded your pussy. You were both so close to release but not ready to stop.

“Get on your hands and knees.” JJ whispered harshly, giving you no warning before he was handling you into position. Your knees ended up between his on the pillow as he entered you again. His pace was torturously slow, making you whine with each slow drag of his cock.

“JJ.. please..” You reached back, digging your nails into his hip to urge him on but he only chuckled.

“So impatient. Do you need to cum?” JJ taunted, pulling you up by your hair and wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you upright. You groaned pathetically, his cock so deep it hurt but he wouldn’t move. “I thought you were mad at me?” JJ whispers, turning your head so his lips can tease yours.

“J, please. Make me cum.” You beg, nails biting into his arms as you roll your hips, desperate for the pleasure he’s withholding. Your tongue comes out to lick the seam of his lips before taking his bottom one between your teeth.

“I’ll do anything you want. I just need your cock. Make me feel good, J.” His nostrils flare at the same time you feel his cock pulse inside you.

When his arms tighten around your trembling body, you nearly groan in satisfaction until you hear an unexpected sound. The sound of your door creaking open and a startled gasp. Your stomach falls before you both jerk your heads around to face the intruder.

Pope.

[atebyflowers]

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎vampire!reader x ellie williams

cw: blood drinking, fingering, sub!ellie, angst (?) . . .

thinking about ellie and vampire!reader being dangerously obsessed with eachother . . . from the moment you layed eyes on her, she was all you could think about, all you could dream about tasting. you promised yourself you'd try to stay away from her as much as possible. "only friends" is what you had decided on in your mind if she would even give you the chance . . . which she did. over time, you two drifted towards eachother so naturally. it was impossible, being with her was so easy, every second close to her made it harder to hold back.

and now, here you are ... ellie seated on the edge of your bed as you straddle her — fighting with your senses, and her words. "we can't keep doing this ellie. . . it isn't good for either of us" you told her, hesitant on where to put ur hands — terrified of sending yourself over the edge uncontrollably. "i don't want to live without you" she whispers, your eyes now meeting — the way she looks at you being the worst weakness possible. "i'm not asking you to" you sigh in response before adding on, "i can't live with myself if something happens to you ellie... something because of me".

your tone put knots in her stomach, sometimes all she wished for was to understand you to the fullest — without any differences pulling you apart. "you won't hurt me, i know you won't" she protests, causing you to shake your head in response. "you don't know that and neither do i ... baby im not asking you to live without me we just can't be ... this close" you respond, pushing back off of her lap, trailing towards your dresser as she focuses on your every move, almost as if she was hypnotized. while she hesitates for a moment, ellie slowly stands up and walks towards you — careful with her movement before she speaks. "i want you to feed" she tells through words spoken just above a whisper, her hands gently reaching towards yours, before making their way up your arm and onto your face — cupping it before you can respond. "i can't control it ellie ... what if i hurt you? what if i can't stop? it's not just an addiction to you els... it's one to me too" you question her, eyes almost tearful as you imagine what could possibly go wrong if this continues — ellie, to stubborn to listen.

"you've done it before .. we've done this before .. you're always careful" she reminds you, and it's true. you have done this before, you've tasted her multiple times. but what you hadn't told her, is how deep the addiction was growing. how desperately you craved for her blood some nights. how terrified you were that one day you might not be able to control how far you go. "i don't want to hurt you.." you finally respond, and with those words — she takes the initiative, pressing her lips against yours with slight aggression in an attempt to shut you up... and you listen. it's as tough as it could possibly be without you taking full control, both of your mouths attached as you follow her back onto the bed — ellie, beneath you as always as your hand trails up and down her leg, tongues entwined with soft moans flowing out.

hesitantly, you move from her mouth and down to her neck, ellie instantly getting louder the moment you began to suck on her skin. "y/n... please" she begs, your body and mind knowing exactly what she wants despite previous conversations. "promise me you'll tell me if it hurts. push me off ellie, please don't let me go to far" you're practically begging as well. "ellie" you add on in a more serious matter, and despite her nearly falling apart from your touch — "yes- fuck okay i will baby just please..." she gasps out, with sharp teeth slowly sinking into her skin, a rush turns both of you on as blood drips down your lips and through your cleavage. "God you taste so good" you whine, loud moans mixed with pain and pleasure make their way to your ears — as one of your hands makes its way down her pants, the other caressing her face as you suck her dry.

it's so messy.. your fingers thrusting inside of her while her blood covers both of you.. your mouth switching between her skin, and her lips — which you can't help but bite down on in the process. "i'm s-so close" she whimpers like an overwhelmed puppy, her body soaked underneath you as your fingers reach deeper than they've ever managed to before.. so consumed in the moment. "c'mon baby.. just a little bit more yeah? almost there.." you tell her as you speed up your pace, swearing you can feel her blood running through your veins everytime you swallow. “god, don’t stop please" she begs, her voice trembling with desperation, her nails digging into your hips as you feel her clench around you. a trail of loud whines and mumbled words come out of her as she releases onto your fingers, your teeth slowly making their way out of her skin — ellie lightheaded, barely able to feel them pulling out of her. as your fingers copy your teeth, slowly pulling out of her dripping cunt, you lick the access blood off of her body — careful not to miss a spot before you bring your fingers to your mouth, consuming every part of her you can access.

"you're okay honey.. i got you" you comfort her with soft words, both hands now cupping and caressing her face as she catches her breath and comes back to reality, the wound on her neck stinging in a way that's so painful it's almost addicting. taking notice to the damp tears covering her cheeks and sore lips, you carefully pry away from her and she whimpers from lack of contact. "shh.. it's okay it's okay... jus need to clean you up els" you reassure her, quickly grabbing a towel and first aid kit. you start off by cleaning up her swollen body, before making your way towards her neck — gently cleaning the wound you had left, before covering it with a bandaid. "there .. s'all better" you whisper, and she smiles sweetly as you place a kiss on both the bandaid and her cheek — taking notice to the way she struggles to keep her eyes open, her body worn out. as you pull her into your arms, she almost instantly falls asleep at your touch, soft hands petting her head and sending her into such a natural state of comfort.

watching her sleep was the one thing you looked forward too every time this passed. everytime she let you feed. but this was different. unknown to ellie, this was the last time. a distressing decision made in your head as you drained the blood from her body, struggling to catch yourself as you fell in and out of the struggle to keep going. it was one out of many times you felt genuine fear being so lost amongst her taste. she was so precious... so delicate compared to you... you could never fully reciprocate it no matter how much you tried. no matter how much she thought you could. and so quietly, cautiously, you slip her out of your arms, careful to not wake her as you sit up. with head in your hands for a few moments, your heart burns, but your mind is strict. one last time, you remind yourself before turning to look back at her — placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, tears welling in your eyes alongside a saddened smile. it was destined to happen. you knew you'd never last, and once it started it would have to end eventually if you didn't want to hurt her. but the realization of how deep the connection would be, didn't hit until your last moments near her.. the more you craved her, the firther you had to stray.

[ashwhowrites]

Hiiii, Can you do a Steve Harrington x reader? About how they used to be best friends since they were kids then high school came around so did king Steve. Anyways, the reader confesses her feelings for him but before he can reply, his friends laugh and make fun of her. The reader stops being friends with him because he never defended her. But now, Steve has changed and wants to make things right and finally be with the girls he has always loved.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

High school mistake

Y/N never thought she would see the day her best friend Steve outgrew her. He was always shy and quiet, and they never left each other's side. They grew up together and now they were in high school and Y/N was struggling with the change.

Steve became popular once he joined the basketball team. Y/N remembered how excited she was when he made it, but now she wished he never tried out. It was selfish of her, but she missed her best friend.

The other issue was she was in love with Steve, pathetically and helplessly in love. She was always too scared to say anything but she didn't have to worry about much since no one looked their way. But now that he was popular, girls began looking his way.

Y/N was jealous and didn't know how to handle it. She figured she might as well try to go for it because it wouldn't be long until a girl beat her to it. So on a random day at school, she walked up to Steve.

She was terrified but losing him scared her even more.

She wished she could say it went well and they have been together since, but that would be a lie. She could never forget the look on his face as the words left her lips. He looked shocked, his eyes wide and mouth open. She confessed she was in love with him and he stood frozen. Before he could reject or confess, his friends around the halls laughed. They laughed as hard as they could as they ran up to them.

Steve never stood up for her, in the moment and after the moment.

It's been two years and she hasn't talked to him since. She was hurt and felt betrayed. The least he could have done was apologize after the fact and tell his friends to quit being assholes. But he never did.

Now, of course, people say he has changed. He now wasn't friends with anyone from high school. Apparently, he hung out with one girl, and the rest were younger children. It was a bit odd but it wasn't her place to care anymore. She hadn't seen him in months but figured she'd have to face him one day.

That day arrived faster than she wished. She was out at the mall when she saw his hair over the racks. She felt herself stop breathing and ducked down. She looked around the store, wondering if she could sneak by before he sa-

"Y/N?"

She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard his voice. She slowly stood up and opened her eyes.

"Steve," she greeted him with a small smile.

"I haven't seen you in forever, how are you?" He asked, a big smile on his face like everything was cool. She froze when he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled back when she didn't move.

"I'm good. How are you?" She asked, trying her best to be polite.

"Good! Not much to complain about. I'm taking Dustin suit shopping so I better get back. But maybe we could get coffee or something? Catch up?" He asked, his hands in his pockets as he turned his head.

She forgot how pretty his brown eyes were. Years later he still made her heart race.

"We really don't have to do that, Steve." She sighed and he frowned at her response

"I want to" he fought

"I don't," she snapped, she took a deep breath to calm herself. "See you, Harrington."

Steve watched hurt as she turned around and left. Dustin was yelling his name but he couldn't move until her body vanished from his vision.

~~~

The run-in happened a week ago and Steve was still thinking about it. He hoped there wouldn't be hard feelings after all these years, but he was clearly wrong. He did want to talk to her, get the chance to apologize, and maybe fix things again.

He never forgot about her and missed her. He missed having his best friend and he knew it was his fault she left. He could have fixed it many times and he never did. But this time he was going to.

He showed up at her house or hoped she still lived there. He was right when she opened the door.

It took a lot of convincing but he made it inside, sitting on the familiar couch he slept on during sleepovers. He remembered how he wanted to sneak into her room and wrap his arms around her body. The countless times he fell asleep thinking about kissing her.

"What do you want?" She asked, already tired from the mess. Ever since she saw him it was like she started all over.

"I want to apologize for the shit I did in high school," he said but she just scoffed.

"Many years late for it to matter, or fix anything. Is that all?"

"Can you give me some mercy please?" He pleaded, his stupid eyes begging

"Why? You never gave me any" she shrugged, looking down at her hands as she played with the pillow on her lap.

"I know and I do mean it when I say I'm sorry," Steve said, softly touching her hand to make her look up. She froze but looked into his eyes.

"You gave me many chances to fix it and fix us. I was stupid and never did. I know I don't deserve to be here right now, and it's fair for you to hate my guts. But I miss you."

"I miss you too but I don't know. I lost my only friend and I suffered. You have to be popular and live life. Now you come back because it's all done? That makes me feel like shit." She explained

Steve listened to every word, moving closer as he moved the pillow off her lap. Now he held both her hands as his body leaned closer.

"Hit me, scream at me. Do whatever you need to do, I don't care. But after can we please start over? I never forgot what you said."

"Please don't bring that up," she mumbled embarrassed as she yanked her hands away. She stood up to give herself space from him.

"No, I will because we never talked about it," he fought as he stood up

"And who's fault was that?" She scoffed as she crossed her arms. "I get over it, so let's move on."

"I didn't though," he whispered

"What are you saying? It's been years, Steve. Do you think I still am completely in love with you after you rejected me?" She rolled her eyes, praying the front she put up was enough to fool him.

"Kiss me," he said, now standing right in front of her

"What?"

"Kiss me and if you don't feel anything, and you know there's no love in your heart anymore. Tell me that while you look in my eyes and I'll leave you alone." He explained, his voice getting lower and deeper as he moved closer. His face was inches away from hers as she tried to control her breathing.

She wasn't sure if she could lie to his face but what did she have to lose?

"Fine," she said, leaning in and pressing her lips against his. She planned to do a soft peck but then his hand landed on the back of her head. He made the kiss way more passionate and she fell into the trap. She clung to his shoulders as she kissed him harder.

It was as perfect as she always thought it would be. His lips were soft, warm, and in control. It took her breath away and made her head fuzzy. It was like everything melted and she was a puddle in his hands.

She gasped as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. And then he pulled away. She fought with everything in her not to chase his lips.

She blinked a few times as she looked into his eyes, trying to regain her thoughts.

She had the words on her tongue, ready to tell him he lost his chance and she could live with that. But he was finally doing what she dreamed about. He was fighting for her, and he planned to leave if she said the word. If she said it, he'd move on and fall in love with another girl. What would she win? Pride? But at the cost of a broken heart and never loving him for the sake of herself.

Maybe it wasn't what he deserved but what she deserved. And fuck it, she deserved to have her heart fixed.

"I love you," she whispered

She could see his eyes light up and the shy smile on his face.

"God, I love you too," he whispered, closing the space between them.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 3- Caught in the Act

A+ in Pretend Love (Lando Norris x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- If you asked Zak Brown, he would advice never to store confidential contracts on the cloud. If you asked Lando, he would tell you to not fall in love with your fake fiance. If you asked Y/N, she would tell you to never date a famous person even if it's not real.

While Lando was being coached by his best friend to confess his love to his fake fiance; Zak's cloud was being hacked in hopes of finding some dirt on McLaren or their CEO ad black mail but they didn't expect to hit the jackpot. Their contract was valid for 3-4 more months and the plan was to slowly ease Y/N out of Lando's life and say that things didn't work out because of their busy schedule.

What no one anticipated was they would wake up on Saturday morning to both their face plastered all over the news with the contract they had signed. The media was calling them all sorts of things from trying to fool them to trying to fool an entire country. There were people who had tracked her down and were not waiting outside Y/N's house in hopes of talking to her or at her work. She had to take leave from work since her professors were speaking ill of her. She couldn't imagine having to go back for her PHD programme. The worst were the fans; the name calling, the hate; it was all directed towards her as if McLaren were saint's in all of this. Lando also bore the brunt of a major chunk of the hate.

Zak just texted them telling them not to talk to anyone and to stay hidden till it all died out. Y/N wouldn't even talk to Lando at this point because she was so angry and hurt and didn't want to direct her anger towards him when it wasn't even his fault. She was sat bawling her eyes out at all the mean things the people were saying about her. It made her life extremely difficult, something she hadn't imagined happening.

Lando was a mess; McLaren told the media that Lando wouldn't be answering any question other than the race and if they asked any personal questions, he just walked away; adding fuel to the fire. The drivers were also gossiping among themselves. "No wonder she suddenly showed up. It was all a rouse" George whispered. "I mean I get why McLaren would do that, with Lando's antics" Alex reasoned. But as soon as they would spot Lando, they would stop whispering. "If you guys are gonna talk about my relationship" he said in animated quotation marks, "do it in front of me. I'll answer all your questions" he huffed and walked away, clearly hurt by his friends. Racing while it felt like his world was falling apart was proving to be very difficult. All his calls and messages to Y/N would fall on deaf ears and it was messing with him even more. He just needed to know that she was okay. He didn't give a rat's ass about how he was.

"Lando, I think, soon the media will get something else to talk about. You should just focus on your racing" Zak reasoned with Lando who wanted to put out a statement saying it was all their idea. "None of this would've happened had you not saved the damn contract on your cloud" Lando sighed angrily. "I don't understand how could you let something like that happen" he shouted walking away. The environment in the McLaren garage was tense to say the least.

Lando had hoped that things would quite down by now. The original timeline for his contract was also up but there was no shutting up about the fake relationship. Lando won his maiden win and yet the only thing they could talk about was Y/N. Part of Lando missed her, he had really hope to be able to share this moment with her. When he got out of the car, a big part of him wished she was there so he could run to her, hold her and maybe celebrate this win with her.

So, later that night, he did call her and she answered, her voice hoarse. "Congratulations Lando" she crocked. "Were you crying?" Lando asked worried. "Yeah, I'm just so happy you won" she said clearing her throat. Lando found himself smiling for the first time in a long time. "How have you been?" he asked her softly. "Same old same old. I thought things would quite down by now but they haven't." Y/N mumbled. "I'm sorry" Lando apologised. "It's a good thing I'm busy with research for my PHD. I have no clue how I would deal with people in my class" she sighed. "I'm so sorry Y/N. It's all my fault" Lando began before Y/N cut him off. "It's no one's fault. Things like this happen. I'm just glad they didn't rebuke my visa for this" she laughed trying to lighten the mood. 'I miss you' was stuck in both their throats as they continued to talk for a couple more minutes. "I think we should cut the call" Y/N suggested. "Oh" Lando replied. "I think it would be easier for the both of us if we stopped contacting each other. It was a hassle explaining the whole thing to my parents and my relatives. I just don't have it in me honestly" Y/N breathed out shakily. "I'll fix this" Lando tried to reason. "Don't Lando. I think this was it for us. I wish you the best. Take care" Y/N said it like it was their last time talking. "Please" Lando begged but Y/N cut the call; "But I love you" Lando whispered into his phone.

As the time went on and as the championship picked up, Lando's heart was in unrest. He felt like he had wronged the person who he loved and he couldn't live knowing that. So, he decided to sit down one day and film a video. He had seen the stuff people were saying about him and Y/N and he felt like it had been months; people should've moved on by now but if they couldn't he would make sure that they wouldn't be able to say shit about Y/N anymore.

The video began with Lando in his Monaco apartment; "Hi guys. Lando here" he began. He took a deep breath before speaking; "I would like to address my whole relationship with Y/N in his video. Part of me had hoped that it wouldn't come to his but here we are. Y/N and I did begin this relationship in a contract but it was the team's and my decision to do so. She was just a random person we ran into who ended up helping us. So, the whole gold digger narrative you all are spinning is a load of bull. I know I shouldn't've done that but I had no other option to clear up my image because that's what the team and sponsors wanted. Part of me had hoped that after the championship had started picking up steam you guys would have something better to talk about but hating on us for the decisions we made is too much. If you would like to hate on me or send me a ton of hate, be my guest but please leave Y/N out of this. She is innocent and doesn't deserve this. I would appreciate it if you would stop sending hate to the woman I actually loved. And to Y/N, if you're even watching, had we met in a different situation, I would've actually married you since I really do love you" Lando finished the video and after he was happy with it he uploaded it to his channel. He knew his PR team would give him shit but he didn't give a fuck. He just wanted Y/N to be safe.

The internet was in an uproar after Lando's public declaration of love. Some were calling it cliche and the others were swooning over Lando for taking a stand. People weren't very happy with McLaren and how they had handled the whole situation. Lando was being bombarded by calls from McLaren and they were angry at him for what he did. "Lando are you crazy? The sponsors won't stop calling. Why would you say that?" Zak shouted. "Because lying was what got us here. So, I cleared the air" Lando stated. "You are unbelievable and so difficult. I don't know why I tried so hard to keep you" Zak mumbled which Lando heard and it stung.

Y/N was on vacation with Becky who had taken her away since all she did was stay coup-ed up at home since the whole incident. Y/N woke up to a text from her mum; 'you'll want to see this. It's Lando' it read. Y/N quickly loaded the video and before she knew it, she was crying. She couldn't believe that Lando loved her. The craziest part of the video was the love confession honestly. She quickly called him and a groggy voice answered. "Y/N, is everything okay?" Lando asked worried. "Yes. Do you mean it?" she asked. "Mean what?" Lando asked confused. "What you said in the video about being in love with me?" she pleaded. "Yes. Every word. I've been in love with you for months and I couldn't tell you and it was killing me. It's fine if you don't feel the same. I just needed to let it out" Lando rambled. "I love you too you muppet" she laughed as tears were rolling down her face. "You mean it?" Lando asked pinching himself. "Yes. I love you so much Lando Norris" she said, by now Becky was also up due to all the commotion. "Are you free tonight?" Lando asked. "Ahh, I'm on vacation right now" she said slowly. "Let me know when you're back, I'll pick you up at the airport" Lando said, "I love you Y/N Y/L/N" Lando stated. "I love you too" Y/N replied before ending the call to explain everything to Becky.

True to his words Lando had come to the airport to pick her up, As soon as he spotted her, he ran to her at full speed almost knocking her down as he wrapped his arms around her waist raising her in the process to spin around for a while. "I missed you" he whispered putting her down with his head nuzzled in her neck. "I missed you too" she whispered running a hand through the back of his hair. "You made me dizzy" she whined as he pulled away to look at her. "Sorry" Lando smiled sheepishly. "About that date?" he asked. "Give me some time to shower and than I'm all yours" she beamed.

The two of them headed home. They went on that much needed date; at home with pizza and shitty rom-coms. They giggled as the pair on the screen kissed. When Lando turned to look at her and held her face like it was the most precious thing. "Can I kiss you?" he mumbled, eyes flickering to her lips. She nodded and Lando closed the distance between them, the kiss was sweet and needy; they had so many emotions running through them and some how this kiss was exactly what they needed.

"What about McLaren?" she asked a couple days later. "I'll tell them we're really dating but now I really wanna just protect you. I won't let anything happen to you." he stated. "I know" she hummed in agreement kissing his lips.

After spending the whole of summer break together, Lando came out to announce that him and Y/N were actually dating. The team took it as well as you expect them to. The fans were going wild since this was truly out of a book. The other drivers were quite supportive and even apologised for their previous discretion.

With Y/N on his side, Lando felt like he could take on the world; good or bad. And Y/N was happy she agreed to fake date Lando since she got a real boyfriend out of this.

Tag list- @gamesetmatch-me @seonghwaexile @yootvi @hadesnumber1daughter @khaylin27 @abq654 @plotpal @charlesgirl16 @inarabee @a-beaverhausen @hwalllllllelujah

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | ii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Astonishment widens your gaze when you find your mother sitting on your bed when you go back upstairs. Her hands are twitching in her lap and she makes a beeline to you when she sees you.

“So, how did it go?” she asks, urgency laced in her tone. 

Your brows knit. “It went fine. Why do you even care, mother?”

“Coriolanus will be a good friend to have in the future,” she says, her hands seizing yours for emphasis. 

“A good friend?”

Your mother rolls her eyes. She then tugs you by the hand and takes you to your bed so you can both sit on it. The mattress dips with both your weights.

“Don’t you know, sweetie? How well his tribute did in the last Hunger Games? That Lucy Gray girl-”

“You know I don’t like to watch it,” you underscore, your frown accentuating. You don’t know why anyone would willingly tune in to this butchery and call it entertainment. 

Her hold on your hand grows tighter. “You need to grow up. You’re not a child anymore.”

You tamp down your hurt at her criticism.

She licks her lips and continues, “And it’s not just that. He’s on the fast track to becoming top student at the University, he’s Volumnia Gaul’s apprentice and he’s even got sway with-”

“What does any of it have to do with me, mother?” you interrupt, your well of patience running dry as she keeps singing the young man’s praises. It’s not like you’re not aware of Coriolanus’ accomplishments. He’s ambitious and clever. It was always obvious he’d get far in life. But clearly your mother’s trying to make a point and you’d like for her to stop beating around the bush and just spill it.

“He likes you.”

“I like him too,” you reply with a shrug.

She tilts her head, her interest seeming piqued. “Do you really?”

“Yes, I’m glad we can be friends again.”

“Friends is a good start. Your father and I started as friends…”

You draw your hands back, standing up in shock at her implication. Outrage blooms inside you. This is just like Demetria Plinth. While you’re aware your mother doesn’t approve of your current match, you never thought she’d be so devious.

“I’m engaged, mother.”

She sighs as she stands up too. Disappointment paints her features.

“I know, I know. And William’s a sweet boy but-”

“But what?”

She tilts your chin up. “What kind of future do you think you’ll have with him, hm?”

“One full of happiness and love,” you defend hotly.

She bursts out a chuckle. “Love and happiness do not provide food or shelter. But a match to a promising young man from a great house would-”

You cut her off again, peeved at her repeated ignorance of your wishes, “Like I said, we’re friends, mother, nothing else. I’m getting married in three weeks, whether you and Dad like it or not.”

Her lips clamp shut as she steps back from you. 

“And you have made that exceedingly clear, how little you cared for our opinion…”

“It’s not that, I just wished-”

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “It’s no matter. Just promise me one thing?”²

“What thing?” you ask, suspicion clear in your voice.

“Keep him close,” she says, her eyes softening. “Can you at least do that for us, sweetheart?”

“I’ll try.”

“I’m being serious,” she emphasizes. “After your brother…” Her voice breaks at the mention of her son. Tears start to press behind your eyes at the sight of her grief-stricken expression. “We can’t afford any misstep. Do you understand?”

You don’t have it in you to fight her anymore, not when she’s like this. So you wrap your arms around her, giving her a tight hug. “I understand,” you reply, rubbing her back as she weeps in silence.

Naturally, your own tears follow suit. Whenever your mother cries, it's never too long before you start crying as well.

You may not go as far in your relationship with Coriolanus as your mother wants you to, but you can at least keep him in your life. And based on your encounter this afternoon, it will not be hard. You want him in your life. You missed him. 

You just hope your mother learns to accept that you and Coriolanus will never be more than friends.

God, you despise these events. You peer at your lavish surroundings once again. They certainly didn’t spare any expense, and this includes your father. Every inch of the palatial room screams wealth, from the champagne tower, to the elaborate sculptures and gold accents from floor to ceiling. 

Internally, you wince. This is the kind of futile displays of privilege the Capitol likes to indulge in. A waste of resources when people in the Districts are starving.

You bet if Sejanus were here, he’d feel the same.

Sipping lightly from your glass of posca, you nod along at the man who speaks to you. It’s been almost an hour and he hasn’t realized you haven’t uttered a single word. You wonder if he even cares. Gauis Creed, Festus Creed’s father, is the kind of man who basks in the sound of his own voice more than anyone else’s.

Eventually, you excuse yourself, pretending you’re tired and need to sit.

William follows you as you go find your father’s table. 

You unleash a sigh as you plop down on one of the velvet chairs around the table. An Avox approaches you, plate of appetizers in hand, and offers you one. You refuse with a smile, your heart twisting as you meet their gaze.

William’s hand folds over yours.

“You’re okay, baby?” he asks, concern swimming in his green eyes.

“I’m fine. These things are just so exhausting.”

His thumb sweeps over your knuckles as he smiles at you. “We just need to stay long enough to be polite.”

“I know.”

William suddenly straightens his spine, his attention traveling above your head. You pivot in your seat to see what caught his eye.

Your breath hitches at the sight of Coriolanus. He smoothly walks into the room, locking arms with his cousin Tigris. His stylish crimson fit, a two piece suit with a white rose pinned to his breast pocket, highlights his good looks. His blonde locks are slicked back in that formal way you’ve seen him sport since he came back. He wears it well. It makes him look older, wiser.

He radiates confidence and you don’t miss the looks that trail him as he enters. The young heir of House Snow is making quite an impression.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” William inquires, smoothing the wrinkles in his suit and rearranging his lapels. 

“Yeah, that’s him,” you reply, placing a hand on his arm in reassurance. 

But your fiancé’s eyes don’t stray from Coryo. A frown mars his brow. 

“Who’s the woman with him?”

“That’s Tigris, his cousin.”

Striking blue eyes slam into yours, making your heart skip a beat. You watch as the blonde whispers something to Clemensia Dovecote before weaving his way through the crowd.

“He’s making his way to us,” William says.

Frozen in your seat, you nod dumbly.

He glides in your direction, each of his steps graceful and determined. Not once does Coriolanus’ cobalt gaze strays from yours.

“You came,” you say when he’s in front of you.

He plucks your hand from your lap and drops an ephemeral, soft kiss on it. When he lets go of your hand, the feel of his lips linger, making your flesh tingle. You confine a gasp, your face warming. The move surprises you coming from Coriolanus. He knows etiquette better than anyone else. Doing this in front of your fiancé could be perceived as provocation. 

You’re sure he didn’t mean it that way, being naturally suave and charming, but you wish he’d tone it down tonight to not give William the wrong impression.

“I made a promise to a pretty girl, so I had to,” he rasps, honey dripping in his deep timbre.

Part of you melts. Ten years ago, you’d have done anything for Coryo to notice you, let alone whisper words such as these to you.

You collect yourself, giving a nod as you rise from your seat. 

You beam at his cousin. As always, she looks stunning. Tonight she wears a tight, scarlet dress that compliments her slender frame.

“Tigris, it’s been a while,” you chime.

“Too long,” she replies before hugging you.

You return the gesture. Tigris was always sweet to you. While you never went to school together as she’s three years older than you and Janus, there were many times she’d admonish children who pestered you. You remember wanting to be like her when you were younger, a poised, beautiful Capitol lady that’d make your parents proud.

It was before you realized how vapid most citizens of the Capitol are, that none of them care about anything that matters. Still, Tigris remains one of the kindest people you’ve ever encountered.

“You’ve grown into a gorgeous young woman,” she praises.

Despite you, a sliver of pride flutters inside you at her compliment. 

The reunion is interrupted when your parents arrive.

As you expect, they barely acknowledge William, but they grin from ear to ear when addressing Coriolanus.

“You clean up nicely, young man,” Strabo lauds.

Your mother doles out similar praise, asking him where he got his shirt from.

“Shall we sit?” your dad adds.

“Oh, may we?”

“Don’t be silly. We made sure there’d be room for both of you.”

So that’s who the extra chairs were for. You wondered before. You suppose it makes sense now.

Everyone sits and food is brought to the table. 

The tantalizing spread of meat and vegetables doesn’t entice you despite its artistic arrangement. Still, you dutifully gulp bite after bite, aware people in the districts are starving while you get to enjoy a fancy meal. You shouldn’t waste any of it.

The whole time, you try your best to ignore the way Coriolanus’ arm keeps grazing yours as he talks.

You stay quiet as the Snow cousins and your parents drone on about clothes and other frivolous matters. 

When the conversation begins to veer to more serious topics however, your ears perk.

“...And we’ve been trying to raise the viewership for the next Hunger Games through-”

“Well, maybe if it wasn’t about sponsoring the murder of children, it’d be easier,” William notes, cutting your father off mid-sentence.

Quiet falls over the table. Strabo’s jaw ticks while he glares angrily at your fiancé. Your mother shakes her head and tosses you a look of disapproval.

She doesn’t have to utter a single word for you to hear her thoughts loud and clear. They’re plainly written all over her face.

As for you, pride and love glow inside you as you twine your fingers with William’s. 

Once again, he makes you feel like you’re not the mad one in this mad world.

“What do you think?”

 Coriolanus’s abrupt question has you choking on your spoonful.

You cough and dab your mouth with a napkin, embarrassment swirling in your gut.

Beneath his intense stare, you quickly try to gather your words.

“Me? I…There has to be another way to discourage rebellions, a more humane way. Wouldn’t you agree?”

A tender smile unfurls on his lips. “You’re sweet.”

The symphonic orchestra on stage starts playing music. Some of the guests start joining the dancefloor, waltzing along to the melancholy tune.

Coriolanus suddenly gets to his feet and steals your hand. 

“Do you mind?” he tells William while tugging you out of your chair. 

“I…” your fiancé begins. But Coriolanus drags you to the dancefloor, not waiting for his response.

Too dumbstruck to utter a word yourself, you let him. 

He slips his arm around your waist and sways to the music. You follow his lead, trying to discard how unnerving the proximity is. The faint scent of roses coats your senses, rendering you a bit dizzy. It reminds you of your garden. 

“He speaks like a rebel,” he says.

You stiffen. “He speaks the truth, and he isn’t afraid to do it. It’s what I love about him.”

Coriolanus scrutinizes you, his blank expression impossible to read. You gasp when he spins you. He then pulls your back flush against his broad chest. Your heart hammers wildly  and you find yourself praying he doesn’t hear it. 

His soft whisper fans over your ear. “He’ll get you in trouble.”

“Maybe I like trouble,” you reply.

His deep chuckle ripples along your neck. “Hm, do you, princess?”

Your throat goes dry. You pivot in your heels so you aren’t so close, remembering that William is a few feet away watching.

Your cheeks burn. 

“Coryo,” you mumble, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Yes?”

“You’ve changed, you know.”

“Hm, maybe it’s my hair. I’m trying to grow it out again.”

You shake your head.

“It’s not that. You’re just…a bit different.”

You don’t remember him ever being so bold and…so many other things you can’t place. You simply know that the longer you are in his presence, the longer it feels as if you’ll tumble into an abyss, one you won’t so easily climb your way out of.

He slants his head.

“Good different or bad different?”

You shrug and smile.

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

The gala leaves you rattled, hesitant to speak to Coriolanus for a few days. You know he’s not to blame for your parents’ behavior, but he didn’t exactly help matters with everything he did that night. Your mother for instance couldn’t stop raving about it on the way back home. You were grateful William wasn’t there to hear it. He’s worked hard to obtain your parents’ approval, even pretending to be someone he wasn’t at first just to impress them. But nothing he’s done ever worked. By mere virtue of his birth, the match is ill-fated in your parents’ eyes. 

Maybe distance with the blond is what is best. Once you and William are married, they’ll have no choice but to accept it after all. It’ll be done and there’ll be nothing else for them to say.

“Your mother said I could find you here.”

Startled, you nearly drop your embroidery hoop. 

Your head snaps up. 

You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus’ towering frame darkening the entrance of the sunroom, sporting a white shirt and a long black coat. 

“Are you upset?” he asks, heading towards you. 

His bluntness, coupled with his unexpected presence, snatches the words from your tongue for a few minutes.

You blink and frown, focusing on driving the needle through the cotton fabric.

“Upset, why would I be upset?” you evasively reply.

“The gala…” His voice is closer now, the smell of roses floating around you.

You dip your head and examine your needlework. You frown. It’s a bit crooked. The stitches aren’t as tight as they should be, making the petals you were sewing appear misshapen.

“You’ve also been avoiding me,” he adds. Your breath catches as you realize he’s sitting next to you now. “You leave right after every class.”

It’s true that even at the University you’ve made yourself more scarce. You didn’t expect him to notice. But you surmise nothing ever escapes Coriolanus Snow’s sharp senses. As long as you’ve known him, he’s been this way. He’d let the tiniest, most insignificant problem corral his entire attention until he solved it. 

“I haven’t,” you mutter, shrugging. “I’m not upset, Coryo.”

“So why won’t you look at me?” You squeeze your mouth shut, sewing as if your life depended on it.

“Look at me, princess,” he repeats, his hand finding your chin to force your gazes to meet. Your nerves thrum as he gauges you.

“I’m looking at you,” you whisper.

The blond’s forehead creases. His deep timbre softens while he explains, “I just want to be here for you, take care of you. That’s all. It’s just that…” He releases your face, his shoulders sagging. “Nevermind.”

“Tell me,” you insist, now eager to know what words were about to cross his lips.

It’s his turn to dodge your eyes now. “I probably shouldn’t.”

Your frustration hits its crest.

“Now I want to know even more.”

Coriolanus studies you for a while before a long, weary sigh drops from his chest. 

“It’s what Sejanus wanted,” he confesses, his soft inflection wavering.

You exhale sharply. “What?”

His throat bobs, emotions storming his blue eyes as they turn glassy with unshed tears.

“It’s almost like he knew, like he could feel it coming, you know?” Coriolanus pauses as if to gather himself. “He said ‘take care of her for me, please.’ He even had tears in his eyes.”

The hoop slips from your grasp as you gape at him in shock. Your voice comes out a watery quaver, tears welling in your eyes too.

“Did he really say that?”

“He did,” he confirms with a nod. A lone tear travels down his cheek. “I keep wishing I could have saved him, you know?”

He sounds disgusted with himself and your heart wrenches. It’s not like Coriolanus had anything to do with your brother’s death and could have prevented it. It saddens you that he feels the need to carry a burden that isn’t his own. All he did was be a friend to Sejanus. The picture of the two of them Janus carried proves it.

Without thought, your hand reaches his.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

His fingers curl around yours.

“I just want to honor your brother’s last wishes. He was my best friend.” His thumb caresses the back of your hand. “And I know I can never replace him but…let me be here for you, okay?”

You chuckle through the blurry veil of your tears. You can’t believe Coryo carried this weight with him all along. You wish he’d told you earlier. 

He simply wanted to be here for you. You’re both grieving your brother’s death, after all. Guilt trickles within you for even doubting him.

“Of course,” you reply, giving a tearful smile.

His hands rise to cup your face. He gingerly wipes your tears as you sniffle.

His face comes alight with a broad, tight-lipped smile.

“I’m very glad to hear that, princess.”

[lovecla]

TEACH ME (HOW TO MAKE HIM COME) | jack hughes.

nhl masterlist, nsfw, @lovecla’s kinktober collection, chapter five:

<last chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this kids), semi-public sex (don’t do this either), jealous jack, dirty talk.

➴ word count: 3.7k

💌 from me to you: you asked, and you shall receive. thank u so much for all the love you all gave to TM(HTMHC) and i hope this final chapter can make u guys happy. sorry if it sucks, though. hope y’all still like me :,)

𖧷

AS YOU put on Trevor’s jersey, you contemplate tonight's game.

It’s November again; the leaves keep falling from the trees, the wind is still cold and impersonal. You’re still tired from all the studying, constantly reevaluating yourself and staying up until late at night to write papers.

Life is still as simple as it was before everything. Before crushing on Zack, before going back to Newark in Summer, before sleeping with Jack Hughes, although— Is it really?

You and Jack hadn’t done anything in months. After fucking him for the last time, you woke up with a Trevor Zegras holding a Hockey stick and ready to break it in half with the help of Jack’s head, which made you snap at him.

“What is your problem, Trevor?!” You yell, barely awake and already pissed off at your brother’s doing. “Why are you here at seven in the morning, yelling at Jack and— is that a stick?”

Trevor lifts it up proudly, like he’s okay with beating Jack up. “Yeah, it is! And it’s about to see Jack’s pretty face.”

“Well—” Jack tries, but you’re not hearing any of it.

“Stop acting like I’m fifteen or whatever. If I want to have sex with him, then I will.”

“What— oh my God. See, this is why I never wanted you to be friends with her. They always end up falling in love, man,” Trevor shouts at Jack, who’s doing his best to hold in his laughter. It isn’t doing much, though. “Sarah, Jack isn’t the right guy for you! He’s a man whore!”

“Y’know I’m still here righ—”

“I don’t care, Trevor, geez,” you sit down on Jack’s couch, covering your face with your hands before speaking again. “I understand why you’re upset and I appreciate the fact that you’re taking care of me, but I’m an adult. I know how to take care of myself.”

“You’re twenty—”

“Besides,” Jack starts, this time his face is serious and his arms are crossed in front of his chest. “I’m not gonna hurt her, you asshole. Have a little faith in me, no?”

“No?” Trevor scoffs, putting the stick down. “This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking Sarah can’t stand up for herself, or that I will do anything to hurt her, intentionally. Like she’s just another one. Fuck off, Z.”

Trevor wouldn’t stop commenting about the two of you together, even when Jack wasn’t around you. It was tiring to say the least, so you decided to take the matter into your own hands and tell Jack that you were both done.

It was ridiculous, really, since you’ve grown to appreciate Jack’s company, not only as a friend, but as a possible future partner. Getting away from him wasn’t ideal, but if that was you needed to make Trevor shut up, then you’d do it.

Occasionally, you’d text each other, just normal conversations about how you’re doing, and how you’d wish you were together rather than studying for finals.

But today, the Devils were in Anaheim, playing against your brother’s team and you were going to watch them, for the first time ever. Not only you, though. It looks like all of your colleagues and friends are going— you’ve lost count of how many people texted you asking for free tickets.

You were agitated, since everything could go wrong tonight: your brother could go crazy and risk a penalty for punching Jack in the face, you and Jack would see each other after months and Zack was also going to be there.

In your defense, it hadn’t been your idea in the first place. Kiara suggested that you give the extra ticket Trevor gave to you to him, because it’d be a good excuse to talk to him and to leave the whole Jack situation behind.

But the truth is, you’re not really sure if you want to “leave the whole Jack situation behind”. You like him and you know he likes you back. Even though you had the biggest infatuation for Zack, it didn’t hold a candle to what Jack made you feel whenever he was inside you.

But, oh, well.

Now, it’s probably too late to ask Jack to try again. And even if it made you feel a little weird, you knew it was probably best this way.

𖧷

“OH, MAN, I can’t believe we lost.”

Zack’s complaints make you laugh. “I mean, it was kinda obvious. But, yeah, losing 6-2 is really tough.”

“We played well, though,” Kiara adds, trying to sound convincing. You and Zack both funnily stare at each other, choosing not to say anything. “Y’all are just mean. Sarah, it’s your brother’s team!”

“I know, I know,” you snicker. “Sorry. I’ll tell him he played well.”

“You’re seeing him tonight?” Zack asks, his brown eyes expressing curiosity. “Can I come? The Devils are fucking awesome!”

“Yes, we have, like, a little get together party, if you know what I mean,” you shrug, biting your lips. “I mean, you can definitely come if you want.”

Kiara eyes you eagerly as Zack smiles brightly at you, saying “thank you” at least a thousand times and rambling about how excited he was to meet actual NHL players in person.

You didn’t know if it had been a good idea to invite him, but you just felt bad to leave him out of the celebration— or what was supposed to be a celebration before Anaheim lost 6-2— since he was a huge Hockey fan. And even if you’re not all that interested in him anymore, he’s cool to hang out with.

Ever since you came back from Newark you’ve been spending more time with Zack. If anyone asks you anything, you won’t be able to tell them why is that, but you’re not complaining. It’s probably due to fact that you’re not that interested in him anymore, so you don’t have to worry about pleasing him all the time.

Now, you had much more interesting people to please.

You all walk to the dinner hall, where a bunch of players and coaches were talking and dining together, the Devils being loud and proud after a well played game, while most of the Ducks had pouty lips and frowns.

You walked around with Zack and Kiara, and quickly finding your brother, his loud voice outstanding everyone else’s.

“Holy fuck, that’s Jack Hughes.” Zack said, his tone not hiding his surprise and admiration.

You immediately turn your head to the side, confirming that Jack Hughes is, indeed, just a few steps ahead of you, chatting with your brother and a bunch of other players.

“Well, well, well…” Kiara whispers beside you and you discreetly shove her with your elbow, making her shove you back, playfully.

“I mean, we don’t have to talk to them right now, right?” You say, trying to find a way out. “They’re probably sad. I’d be sad if I lost a game.”

“Girl, what are you talking about?” Kiara rolls her eyes, clearly not taking a hint.

“Sarah, you can’t be serious!” Zack laughs, grabbing your hand and pulling you forward. You widen your eyes, staring at his hand covering yours and then looking back at Kiara, who just looks like she’s having the time of her life.

Zack keeps his hand around yours as you approach your brother’s group, Jack’s eyes finding yours immediately before falling to your hands.

“Oh, hey there, ugly duck,” Trevor smiles at you, and you take advantage of the opportunity so you can separate your hand from Zack’s, walking until you’re hugging Trevor tighter than you had ever done before. “What the hell, why are you squeezing me?”

You wanted to punch him. “Oh, I just feel so sorry for you guys!” You try to sound devastated. “Losing is tough.”

“They’re used to it, aren’t you, chickens?” Bratt says, making people around you laugh, as your brother’s frown deepened.

“Fuck you.” Vatrano hisses back, and you let go of Trevor, standing beside him.

Someone calls some of the guys, and you almost yell at them so that they wouldn’t leave, but they do, leaving you alone with Trevor and. Well, Jack.

“I’m a huge fan!” Zack starts, smiling at Jack like he’s God almighty himself.

“Oh, really.” Jack says, and you can tell he’s not even trying to sound nice. You frown.

“Yeah. Ever since you joined the NHL. A long time ago.” Zack probably doesn’t notice Jack’s lack of manners, or if he does, he doesn’t say anything, continuing the conversation eagerly.

“Are you calling me old?” Jack raises his eyebrows, and Zack laughs, clearly oblivious.

Trevor eyes you weirdly, already familiar with Jack’s attitude problem.

“This sassy mean apocalypse needs to stop.” Kiara whispers in your ear and you’re seriously just two steps away from shoving her again.

“I was talking to my girl over there, you guys are fucking awesome and—”

“Your girl?”

You see, usually you’d expect this question to come out of Trevor’s lips, since he’s the most annoying person in the world. But once you saw Jack’s eyes turning a deep, ocean blue shade and his face starting to get red, you realize, with surprise, that Jack was the one who asked that.

You stare at him, but he wouldn’t look at you. He was staring at Zack, with his hands in his pocket.

“Oh, yeah, Sarah.”

A year ago you wouldn’t believe if anyone told you that you would want to kill Zack Brian with your own two hands, but at this moment, it’s all you want to do.

Why the hell is he talking about you like that?

“I didn’t know you were dating, Sarah.”

You gulp, looking up at Jack’s upset face, shaking your head immediately.

“Yeah, little sis, I also didn’t know you were dating.” Trevor said, wanting to sound angry, but you knew him well enough to realize that he was holding back his laughter, just like the little shit he is.

“I’m not— Zack and I aren’t dating.” You stutter, alternately looking at Jack and Trevor.

“Oh. You’re Zack?”

Jack can’t fucking be serious.

Zack is happy and smiling again. “Hell yes I am! Can we, like, take a picture together or something?”

This time, Trevor steps in and coughs, politely interrupting the conversation and finally— finally— doing something about this whole mess. “Sorry, man, can’t do it. We have to head back to the party, otherwise our coaches will kill us.”

You knew it was a lie, Keefe and Cronin didn’t care whether their players took pictures with people or missed parties. As long as they stayed out of trouble and played well, they didn’t really mind their players’ personal lives.

But you wouldn’t say anything, not when you were already in trouble.

“Oh, that’s fine, it’s cool,” Zack shrugs, not hiding his disappointment. You almost pass out when you catch a glimpse of a smile on Jack’s lips. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of other opportunities.”

“Sure, sure,” Trevor smiles, throwing his arms around you once again. “Are you coming?”

“Oh, I—” you look around, biting your lips. “I don’t want to leave Zack alone.”

Even though you did want to leave him alone, you just couldn’t. He had been so excited when you invited him to the game, talking about it for an entire week before tonight.

“He can come too.”

You stare at Jack, not missing the way his lips curled up, and his eyes still looked darker.

“Type shit? You really are the goat, man, fuck yeah!” Zack celebrates and you stare at Kiara, who’s also looking a little bit worried now.

“Great,” you say through your teeth, stepping away from Trevor. “Let’s go, then.”

God, please help me.

𖧷

“SO, FOR how long have you and Sarah been friends?”

You wanted to smash Trevor’s face against a wall and twist his arm until he started crying.

You were sitting at his table, surrounded by other players, Kiara, Zack, Luke and Jack. Fortunately, Kiara had been successful at keeping Jack and Luke bored with her stories about college drama, so Jack wasn’t really focusing on you, or Zack for that matter.

Unlike Trevor, who’s constantly making remarks about your friendship.

“Not long.” You answer, shooting daggers at him with your eyes.

“But you seem really close.” He insists, smiling innocently.

“Sarah’s really cool,” Zack starts, and again you remind yourself that if he had said this not even seven months ago, you’d be smiling and dancing. But now, all you want is to tell him to leave. “We get along really well.”

“She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she? I’m glad to call her my sister.”

“Trevor,” you smile, kicking him under the table. “Stop it.”

“No, no, I like when people compliment you. Makes me proud—”

You get up abruptly, making at least five people look at you, Jack included. Blushing, you smile awkwardly. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Excuse me.”

Walking fast, you make your way to the bathroom, walking down an empty hallway, finding the bathroom quickly. You got in, thanking God that no one was in there.

Jesus. What the hell is going on with both Jack and Trevor?

You understood if Jack was upset with you, because if it was the other way around, you would be just the same, even if you weren’t an actual couple. But Trevor helping the fire grow? He’s just being a child.

“He’s so obvious it’s embarrassing.”

Letting out a yelp, you stare at the man you’ve been thinking of everyday since the Summer, who’s now leaning against the bathroom door and smirking at you.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, crossing your arms in front of you.

“Well, you’re clearly not peeing,” he starts, approaching you slowly. “And I can’t stand that dick face anymore. Does he not know that complimenting you to your brother won’t get him anything?”

“Leave him alone, Jack,” you roll your eyes. “He’s just being nice.”

“He’s into you. You know that, right?”

You scoff, finding it genuinely funny. “Of course he isn’t. We’re just friends. He’s just being nice, I just told you.”

“I thought you were a smart girl.” He wets his lips and not looking at it feels like fighting against ten thousand demons.

“Are you calling me dumb? To my face?” You raise your brow, watching as he frowns.

“I’m just saying that I thought you weren’t so oblivious, baby. When I told you you’re everyone’s type? I meant it.”

“Jack,” you sigh, defeated. “Why are we having this conversation?”

“Because,” he steps closer, looking down at you. “It drives me insane to think that there’s a fuckhead sitting just a few feet away from us that thinks he’s the shit and won’t take your name out of his mouth.”

Your eyes softened, and you smile at him. “You’re jealous.”

“That’s for people who are insecure, baby. And that you already know that I’m not,” he smirks, resting his right hand on your chin, and you can feel his breath hit your face, making you hold back an embarrassing sound. “Do you need me to remind you how good I am?”

Your eyes double in size and you shake your head.

“Are you insane?” You shout-whisper. “You’re supposed to be back in New Jersey in a few hours. This is your team’s celebration dinner, for God’s sake. You’re not even supposed to be here.”

“And yet, here I am.”

He kisses you bruisingly, your teeth touching with the agressive yet extremely sweet action, and you moan inside his mouth, not realising, until now, how much you’ve missed him.

It was wrong but not kissing him felt even more wrong.

He gently pushes you further into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and putting you on the counter, making you hiss with the coldness of the marble against your exposed thighs and throbbing core.

“Jack.”

“Fuck, I missed hearing you say my name. One more time for me, pretty.”

“Jack.”

He kisses you again, and you busy yourself with messing up his hair, still a little bit damp from his previous shower. It smells nice and fresh, just like the rest of his body.

“We need to be quick,” You whisper against his mouth, his eyes staring at you, lust and desire written all over his face. “We’re not even supposed to be here and we don’t have time—”

“Put your hands on that wall over there,” he whispers, signaling to the wall on the other side of the bathroom. “I’m gonna fuck you from behind. Is that okay?”

“As long as you fuck me.” You shrug, getting off the counter and doing as he says.

He laughs. “I’ve created a monster.”

He’s quickly behind you, and you hear the filthy sound of his hands unzipping his fancy pants, as you quickly lift your skirt, putting your panties to the side.

“Spit.” Jack asks— orders—, putting his hand in front of your lips, and you do, the red that painted your cheeks deepening.

He’s inside you not long after that, and you both moan loudly, forgetting for a few seconds that there are at least one hundred people outside. You can feel your walls squeezing his cock as you try to find some kind of support on the wall in front of you.

“Jesus fuck, Sarah, how are you even tighter than last time?”

“Because, ah,” he’s pouding against you, the sound of his crouch slapping against your ass making you feel dirty and so fucking good. “Haven’t been with a-anyone else.”

“No?” You can hear the smirk on his face. “Just your little fingers then?”

You nod with your head, eagerly moving it up and down, moaning loudly and just a few seconds away from ruining your makeup.

“Baby, you need to be quiet,” Jack says, and his hand slowly leaves your waist, making its way to your mouth, caressing your entire body before it covers your lips completely. “I love it when you’re loud but have you forgotten we’re not alone?”

You roll your eyes at him, as he keeps hitting that spot inside you that makes you see the entire galaxy without needing a telescope. His dick is deep inside you, so fucking deep.

“Jack, fu—”

“Sarah?”

You and Jack both freeze as Zack’s voice echoes through the room. He removes his hand from your mouth and rests his forehead against your head.

“Oh my God.” You whisper, ready to remove yourself from Jack’s grip and leave the bathroom.

Jack doesn’t have the same thought as you, though. He removes his length until just the tip is inside you, just to slam his cock inside of you again, reaching deeper than before.

You bite your lips hardly, feeling the taste of coper fill your mouth, the pain of tearing your lips hardly noticeable— your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that it seemed too insignificant to be preoccupied with a little bit of blood.

“Sarah, are you okay?”

“Answer him,” Jack whispers, as he keeps fucking you, this time reaching down and rubbing your swollen clit too. “Sarah. Answer him.”

“I— I—,” stuttering, you try to focus. “Y-yes?”

“Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

Jack pinches your sensitive nub and you can feel the tears start to form in your eyes.

“Pretty.”

“I’m, f-fine, ah,” you shake your head, putting your hand on top of Jack’s but not making any move to stop him. “Just— headache.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want any help?”

“Fucking asshole,” Jack mumbles, your orgasm building up quickly than ever. “Tell him you’re fine, baby. Come on.”

“I’m fine, ah, thank you.” Biting your own hand, you feel your body shivering underneath Jack’s. “I’ll be b-back in just a second.”

“Alright,” Zack sounds convinced. “I’ll warn your brother.”

Even with your loud breathing you can hear Zack’s steps as he gets further away from the bathroom, and you barely have time to think properly before Jack is slamming his cock hard and fast inside of you again.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby, tell me. Does it turn you on the fact that anyone could catch us at any moment?”

Yes.

“Too bad I don’t share what’s mine.”

“Jack—”

“Fucking asshole wanted to be the one inside you right now,” he snarls. “No one will ever fuck you like I do, baby.”

“Hmh,”

“This pussy here,” he pinches your clit again, twisting it between his fingers making you gasp for air. “Will only get this wet for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“You were made to take my cock, baby. Made to be mine.”

Your makeup was most definitely ruined by now. It didn’t matter. Your mind was too focused on coming to care about anything else.

“Say it, baby, come on.” Jack whispers in your ear, kissing your neck afterwards.

“It’s yours, Jack,” you nod with your head, feeling your orgasm closer than before. “I’m yours, and I missed you so bad and—”

You come on his fingers, your thighs shaking as he continues to poud on you, not caring if you’re sensitive or not. He takes his dick out of your pussy after a few more thrusts, coming all over your cheeks.

Your uncontrolled breathing fills up the entire room, the smell of sex and sweat making you blush. Jack’s forehead is on your shoulder, and you can sense he’s just as tired as you.

“Sarah,” he mumbled, and you sigh, humming. “Be my girlfriend. I don’t care about Zegras, I never did. I’ll let him beat me up everyday if that means you’ll be the one helping me get up at the end of the day.”

You chuckle tiredly. “So romantic, aren’t you, Hughes?”

“I try my best.” He murmurs against your skin.

“I will be your girlfriend. But just know that if you cheat on me, or anything like that, Trevor will fuck you up, and I’ll let him.” You say, laughing quietly.

He moves so he can grab a piece of paper, wetting it and cleaning you, making you shiver with the cold water on your back.

“If my own brothers don’t kill me first.”

“Touche.”