#everyone just calm the fuck down and think before you speak. please

[sneefsnorf]

new órfhlaith sneefsnorf rule im not allowed to scroll through the tags of ccs i like on the mcytblrconfessions blog. its hell world in there

[yangcherie]

bathing.

𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).

𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.

𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?

𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.

“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”

Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.

They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.

It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.

The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.

“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”

A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”

“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”

Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.

Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”

(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)

Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.

“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.

“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”

Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.

You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.

Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.

You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?

(You hope so.)

Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.

A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.

The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.

They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.

“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”

Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.

Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.

“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.

“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”

As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.

The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.

Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.

“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”

They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.

“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”

Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!

“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”

“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.

“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.

You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.

Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

please please i’d like to request a carmy blurb with the dialogue prompt “Don't go on that date” ❤️

Divine Timing.

carmy berzatto x female reader

warnings - cursing

written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here. inbox here.

He’s in a bad mood.

Technically, he’s always in a bad mood. But this is the worst you’ve seen him in a long time.

He’s screamed at Richie, belittled Marcus and pissed off Tina in the span of approximately five minutes, and everyone is tired. So, they enlist your help.

You speak fluent Carmy, Syd had said once. You’re the only one he listens to.

So, the next time he shouts, you shout back. Louder.

“Sydney, what the fuck are you doing?” he yells bitterly.

“Carmen, if you don’t stop fucking screaming, I’ll smack you so hard in front of everyone - I swear to fucking God.”

You yell back at a volume that shocks even Richie. The Beef stands still, everyone too afraid to move. Carmy is startled, stuck in place.

“We’re taking five,” you tell him, linking your fingers into his. “Come on.”

You drag him outside, sitting him down in his usual spot. You grab a water bottle and throw it at him, raising your eyebrows in a gesture that says drink it or else. He does as he’s told.

You let him wallow in the silence for a while, calming down slowly but surely. You look over, expecting to see him still angry, or frustrated. Instead, he just looks sad.

You move to sit next to him, turning your body so you can see his face clearly.

“What’s the matter, Carm? What’s got you so riled up today, hmm?”

“Nothin’” he replies, kicking his shoe into the ground. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Does matter. You can’t take your feelings out on everyone in the kitchen, you know. It isn’t fair.”

“I know.”

Your phone makes a noise, and you check the screen quickly before shoving it back in your pocket.

“Anyone important?”

“Nah. Just the guy I’m meant to be seeing later, checking in to see if I’m still good.”

Carmy tenses, whole body going rigid beside you. You feel it, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Listen, Carm. If you don’t wanna tell me what’s bothering you, then fine. But you’ve got to work it out in your own time - not in the fucking kitchen. Got it?”

He’s quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Finally, he speaks.

“Don’t go on that date.”

Your head whips around in disbelief.

“What?”

He ducks his head, willing the ground to swallow him whole.

“Don’t go on that date. Please.”

“Is that… is that what’s got you all upset?”

He scoffs and immediately regrets it, looking at you with softness in his eyes that’s rare as diamonds.

“Yeah.”

“Carmen… why?”

He takes a deep breath, gaze never leaving yours.

“It’s been eating me up, the idea of you going out with some guy. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but… I didn’t want it to be awkward, when you didn’t feel the same way. We work together, we see each other every day, and I didn’t wanna fuck up our friendship.”

“So… you took your anger out on everyone else?”

“Yeah, fuck. I didn’t mean to. Think I just bottled up my feelings too much.”

“Who says I don’t feel the same way?”

Carmy chokes on his breath, staring at you in disbelief.

“You… wait- what?”

“Anyone can see that I like you, Carm. I have since the day I met you and you flashed me one of those million dollar smiles of yours.”

He gives you one now, all bright and bashful.

“This is the last time anything like this happens, you hear me? From now on, you talk to me. And I’ll talk to you. It goes both ways.”

He nods, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“Here’s the deal, Berzatto. You go in there and apologise individually to each and every person you’ve been a dick towards today, and I’ll cancel my date with the douchebag I didn’t wanna see anyway.”

“And you’ll date me instead.”

You laugh, head thrown back and eyes crinkling.

“Fine. But only if the apologies are super heartfelt.”

He shakes his head, chuckling from deep within his chest. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For yelling at me back there. I needed it.”

You smile, leaning into him.

“You’re so welcome.”

“It was super hot, too.”

“Shut up, Berzatto,” you chide, but you can’t fight the grin that etches itself on your face.

[atebyflowers]

toxic!dealer!ellie who favourites you over everyone else, yet refuses to make your relationship offical. one in the morning parked outside of a gas station, rain drops falling outside the smoke-fogged windows, tears streaming down your face, your head laying on her shoulder — she's rolling another blunt and rubbing your thigh in an attempt to make you calm down. "i know baby, i'm sorry" she rasps out, dragging the blunt to her lips before placing it between yours. "you're not sorry" you choke out, sniffling as your wiped away your own tears with the sleeves of the sweater ellie lenses you whenever you smoked together. She sighed at your words in slight annoyance, trying to keep her tone relaxed — she leaned back further in her seat as she watched you clear your eyes, taking the blunt from your hands before speaking. "there's nothing to cry about y/n, you knew this from the start" she replied, taking another hit.

holding your face in your hands for a moment — in the limited space, you turn to face her. your eyes puffy and red, hers identical though for a different reason — she lets out another sigh before sitting up to be closer to you. your faces closer than ever, she places the half smoked blunt back on the tray before moving her hands to caress your cheeks. Giving into her touch, you let your eyes close for a moment taking in the feeling of her.

"you know why it's like this... can't lose business" she'd remind you. something everyone had reminded you. your friends called you an idiot for getting involved with her in the first place, insisting she was nothing more than a fuck girl who bribed every pretty girl she came across with free weed. constantly reminding you that she wasn't willing to settle down, that she needed to be available so girls would keep buying from her thinking they had a chance — just to end up fucked before she moves onto the next. with you, it was different in your mind. she never persuaded you the way she did with the other girls. with you, she spoke gently. never pushing for anything more than what you wanted. always prioritizing your needs over her own, something even your friends didn't believe at first.

yet, despite any of this — you weren't hers. you could never be hers she warned you from the beginning. ellie insisted it was nothing more than a friendship, telling you anything more would ruin her income. "then why do you keep me around" you spoke just above a whisper, her hands still placed on each side of your face. "i don't get it ellie. we've fucked so many times.... so many fucking times. you've got everything you needed. why do you keep bringing me back?" your eyes began to water again — ellie scoffing "you can't put all of the blame on me" she says, "you run when i call y/n". and with those words your laughing in disbelief. "god ellie you know why the fuck i come back" you raise your tone, ellies eyes locked on you as you push her hands away from your face — ellie letting you before she slightly guides your chin back to face her. "look at me" she breathes out and you obey — tears blurring your eyes. "you have more of me than anyone else..." she informs, using her thumb to catch the single tear you let fall. "isn't that enough?" she questions, her tone seeking your cooperation.

with her desperate eyes piercing through your body, you stood no chance playing against her games tonight. it was tiring to say the least, but everything in your body craved her. even if she wasn't yours — she was right. you had more of her than anyone, you should cherish it while it lasts. pleased as you give in, she kisses your temple before brushing your hair out of your face. "i'm yours right now" she adds on, "be mine right now" she states, you staring up at her with wide yet drained eyes. "are we done with this bullshit now baby?" "got it all out?" she questions, her tone almost mocking you. embarrassed, you simply nod, pulling yourself into her embrace. "atta girl" ellie praises, placing kisses on the top of your head as you conceal your remaining tears by burying urself into her body — back at square one.

[flowercrowngods]

who did this to you. part 2

🤍🌷 read part 1 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie

This is not happening. None of this is happening, he’s… He’s dreaming. He’s high. High as a kite somewhere where reality doesn’t matter, where it can’t fucking reach him and he’s— He’s not panicking behind the wheel with Steve Fucking Harrington bleeding against the passenger side window. 

It’s not happening. 

Because if it were happening, Eddie would simply throw up. He’d leave his van on the side of the road and run the fuck away. Away from Harrington and his trouble, away from his rattling breath that’s so loud and unsteady, Eddie doesn’t even dare to turn on any sort of music, even though he’s itching for it, his hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel until his knuckles go white. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles under his breath, barely aware of his surroundings at all, his eyes flitting from Harrington to the red stain against the window, back to the road and then down to the white-knuckled grip and the speckles of dried blood that is decidedly not his. 

Lost in his panic and disbelief, Eddie almost runs a red light. 

It’s harsh, the way he hits the brakes, and the sound Harrington makes is pathetic enough that Eddie feels like maybe this might actually be happening. 

“Sorry,” he breathes, his voice no better than Steve’s — and he’s not the one with a concussion, a broken rib, and that… fucking fear. Of something. Or someone. 

Who’s hurting you, Steve? 

Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.

He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t wanna know. All he wants is for Harrington to stop fucking bleeding, to keep his eyes wide open and— 

“Ed,” the boy says, wheezes, and it sounds like he wanted to say his full name, but had to swallow first. Blood, Eddie thinks. Don’t let it be blood. “Think I’m… ‘M gonna throw up.” 

“Please don’t throw up,” Eddie says before he can stop himself, hating how small his voice sounds, how urgent — like that’s the thing to be urgent about. God, he’s such an ass, but he… If Harrington throws up, Eddie will lose it. He knows he will. 

He chances a glance over at Steve, who has somehow managed to get his right arm tangled with the handle at the door, keeping himself upright and safe from Eddie’s rather frantic driving style. His head is drooping, moving this way and that against the red-stained glass, and he blinks unseeingly as blood begins to trickle down from his nose and temple again. 

He’s making himself small, and Eddie wants to pull him upright and tell him to stay like that, tell him to stop looking so terrible, so horrible, so… 

So much like Eddie’s fucking problem. 

He hates it. Hates everything about that vision. Boys like Harrington shouldn’t look like this, shouldn’t hold themselves like this, shouldn’t… Shouldn’t have no one but Eddie to take them somewhere safe. 

It’s just not tight. 

“Don’ wanna throw up,” Steve says at last, the pause too long for Eddie’s liking, and he sounds so solemn about it, yet so helpless, and Eddie kinda wants to scream. Wants Harrington to scream. Anything to stay awake and maybe not ruin his car. Anything to not fucking die in it. 

“Tell me something,” he says then, because he knows he has to keep Harrington awake and speaking. Just for another ten, fifteen minutes, he tells himself. “Anything, yeah? Tell me anything. Gotta keep you awake there, you hear me? Sounds great, right, staying awake?” 

He’s rambling and he knows it, desperation shining through his words and the god-awful way his voice breaks a little. This is not about him, he knows it isn’t, but still he wants to punch himself, wants to pinch himself and stay fucking calm. 

But who could stay calm in a situation like this? The silence is filled with the horrible wheezing and rattling of Harrington’s breath barely audible over the engine, and Eddie has to look over several times to make sure he’s still there, still with him, still alive. His panic spikes each time. 

He’s just about to reach over and shake him a little, snap in front of his face to get him back, when—

“I don’t know what.” 

It’s quiet, that voice, breathy and tiny and almost invisible, and Eddie wants to scream again. 

Tell me why you’re so scared. Tell me why your old buddy did this to you. Hagan would never touch you, so why did he now? Tell me what happened to Hargrove. Tell me why you sound so fucking small. 

“Tell me about your…” He fumbles for a moment, taking a sharp left and pretending not to hear the choked-off whimper. Focusing on good things. On normal things. “Your favourite person.” 

Eddie cringes at himself the moment the words leave his mouth. Your favourite person? Really, Munson? He scrambles to find something better, something cooler, or maybe something easier like asking his favourite fucking colour, but the overthinking really doesn’t mix well with the already panicked state of his mind. And Eddie just blanks. 

Beside him, though, Harrington sits up a little straighter, smearing more blood against his window in the process that Eddie pretends not to feel nauseous about. 

God, he never did like blood. 

“You wan’ me to tell you ‘bout Rob?” 

“Sure, yeah,” Eddie says, a little too loud, a little too shrill, actually running a red light this time because he doesn’t want to brake again and hurt the boy some more. There’s no one around anyway. This is Hawkins. Fucking dead-end of a town. It doesn’t need red lights, or boys who look like Harrington. “Rob. Tell me ‘bout him, what’s he like? Favourite colour, all that shit.” 

“Her.” 

Eddie blinks, looking over to find Harrington looking at him — or trying to, his eyes still drooping and empty. But it’s a good sign. People don’t die when they look at you, right? 

“What?” 

“Her,” Harrington says again. “An’ blue. Deep ‘n’ dark blue. She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.”

Eddie doesn’t really listen, doesn’t really process what Steve is saying, already thinking of the next question just to keep him talking. But then he continues on his own. 

“Mornin’ blue dep— de… makes her sad, though. So only dark blue. Says it’s why we’re friends. You’re so blue, Stevie. Got half’a my clothes, still, she does. All the blues.” 

That's... really fucking endearing, actually. 

And he says it with a half-smile, too, bloody and pathetic as it is. Like it’s a secret that only the two of them are in on, only Steve and Robin. It’s kind of sweet. 

Not for the first time today does Eddie find himself wondering, Who the hell are you, Steve Harrington?

He exhales through his nose, ignoring the way he’s started to shake with all that panic that’s been sitting inside him for a little too long now with no way to let it out. 

“Not much longer,” he mumbles under his breath again, or maybe he just thinks very hard. Maybe he doesn’t know where he is at all. It’s like he blanks every few seconds, too busy thinking and trying not to.

Before he can tell Harrington to talk some more about that girlfriend of his, there’s a pained, confused little whine that forcefully tears Eddie’s eyes from the street for a moment only to meet hazel eyes widened in confusion. 

“Wh— Where… Where’re we going?” 

Oh no. 

“Why’m I in y—“ 

“You’re safe,” Eddie interrupts him, speaking slowly because suddenly his tongue is too big for his mouth, and not entirely sure if he’s reassuring Harrington or himself. “You’re hurt, okay? It’s bad, but it wasn’t me. I’m taking you to… to someone. My uncle Wayne, he’s— He knows about that kinda stuff. You were telling me about Rob. Remember her, Blue? How about you tell me some more, hm?” 

Eddie’s voice is unsteady with worry and fear and panic, and he’s doing a piss-poor job at hiding it. The thing is, he’s going to cry. He’s actually, absolutely, no-doubt-about-it going to scream and cry and punch a fucking hole into something when this day is over, when his van is no longer bloody, and when Steve Harrington won’t have reason to look at him any longer. 

Oh, how he wants to skip forward. Past the nausea, past the fear, past everything that’s happening right now. Maybe past the insomnia that will come with a day like this, too. 

Past all of it. 

Or better yet, travel back in time and never get to that fucking boat house. 

But he can’t. So he breathes. 

At first, through the ringing in his ears and the racing of his own heart so loud and so forceful he’s shaking with it, he worries that Steve’s gone silent again, that he’s gonna ask again, ask what happened, ask where he is, ask all the questions that make Eddie feel like he’s been doused in ice water because they’re questions that only get asked in stupid movies where terrible things happen to people. 

But then he hears him mumbling something. Numbers. 

“What’cha mumbling there, Blue?” 

“‘S her number,” Steve says, his voice slurring again, worse than before, and Eddie hits the gas a little harder. “‘S jus’ her number. Robbie’s number.” 

And he mumbles again. Over and over and over, until Eddie couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, ingrained into the frayed edges of his mind now. 

He lets him ramble, lets him repeat the number until the words slur together and he can’t separate a four from a nine anymore. Each time Harrington hesitates, each time he stumbles over the words or forgets a digit, Eddie wants to punch the wheel. 

He doesn’t. He only grips it tighter and counts down the turns he takes, the streets he passes, the fucking trees that are familiar, before, finally, the trailer park comes into view. 

The sob Eddie lets out when, with shaking, trembling hands he pulls up to his home to find his uncle having a smoke outside is deafening to his ears after the quiet weakness of Harrington’s voice. 

It startles him, makes him stop his rambles and sit up straighter when Eddie finally kills the engine. For a moment, without the steady, rolling hum, the car is filled with the small, tiny whines Steve makes on each exhale. Like it hurts to even breathe. 

“Wha’s wrong?” He asks, but Eddie can’t really hear him. Can’t turn to him, can’t— “Eddie?” 

He’s out of the car before he can take hold of another thought, stumbling out of his open door on legs that feel numb and heavy. The urge to cry is back again, the burning in his eyes only getting worse when Wayne takes in the dried blood on his clothes and hands with careful, calculated worry.

“Ed?” 

“I didn’t know what— where—- I’m… Wayne, I’m sorry.” 

“Slow down, kid,” Wayne says, raising his hands as if to calm a spooked deer. Like Eddie is the one who needs his help. And he is. He really, really is, and he shouldn’t be, because this isn’t about him, but—

Wayne grabs him by the shoulders to keep him still, and only now does Eddie realise he’s shaking again, restlessly moving his weight from one leg to the other. His uncle steadies him, gently pressing down on his shoulders to ground him, and Eddie nearly sobs again. 

“Ed. Are you in trouble?” 

“No,” Eddie scrambles to say, becoming aware of what this looks like, hiding his hands behind his back on instinct, like that’ll make Harrington’s blood disappear. “‘S not my blood, I didn’t do anything, I swear! I swear. It’s, uh. I just found him. In the boathouse, I found him, and he was… God, he looked so bad, okay, but he didn’t want the hospital, and he was, like, so scared of something, and we don’t even talk, we don’t even look at each other, but I just… I didn’t know what to do, and you know something about concussions and people who were beat to shit and, again, I’m—“ 

“Eddie,” Wayne says, his voice so calm but so assertive that Eddie shuts up immediately, gladly handing over to controls to his uncle now. “Who’s the kid?” 

He nods towards Eddie’s van, where Harrington looks to be halfway unbuckled, but his eyes are closed and his face smushed against the door again, like he just gave up.  

“Shit,” Eddie says, adrenaline and panic slowly falling from him with Wayne’s hand on his shoulder. He sags into his uncle and rubs at his face. “It’s Steve. Uh, Steve Harrington, I mean.” 

“Okay,” Wayne says, and he’s so calm. So calm. Eddie feels like he’s about to fall apart, and Wayne is the only one keeping him together, with that’d steady, warm hand on his shoulder. “And you promise me he didn’t give you trouble? Or anyone else who’ll come finish what they started?” 

Eddie shakes his head profusely, getting a little dizzy with it. “I promise I’m not in trouble. He said Hagan did this to him, was alone when I found him. No trouble, Wayne, I swear, I’m not like that, you know I’m not.”

“Okay,” Wayne says again, and Eddie wants to weep. “I know you’re not like that, but some people are, y’know? You did good, son. You did good. Now help me get him out of that car.” 

It takes his uncle tugging him towards the van for Eddie to kick back into motion, nearly falling over his feet turning back around. It’s only Wayne’s “Easy” murmured under his breath that keeps the ground from opening up and swallowing him whole. 

He climbs in on the driver’s side while Wayne rounds the car and gets to Harrington’s side. 

“Hey there, Blue,” Eddie says, his voice shaking and the nickname slipping again — but it’s easier to call him that than his real name, it’s easier to pretend it’s literally anyone else in here with him, bleeding against his door. 

It’s easier to pretend it’s not Harrington’s breath rattling the way it does, easier to pretend those pained groans so high in their cadence they can only count as whines don’t come from Hawkins High’s Golden Boy who graduated a few months ago and was supposed to be done with bullshit like this. 

“Come on, up you get,” he tells him, not daring to raise his voice too much. 

He looks so frail. Like he’s already broken. Or like he’s trying not to. Like he’s holding on. 

Eddie pretends not to think that the hand he places on Steve’s cheek to gently pry him from the window is not the only thing keeping that boy together right now. 

Harrington groans, whines, wheezes, but opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. Jesus, we’re they this blown before? Or this swollen?

“Hey,” Eddie says, just to say something. Just so he won’t have to hold the boy’s face in silence, just so he won’t have to focus on all the blood. Just so he won’t have to hear more questions that people aren’t supposed to ask. 

Steve opens his mouth, his breath coming out a little sharper, like he wants to say Hi rather than Where am I? or When will it stop hurting? Like he wants to say How can I help you help me? 

Somehow, Eddie manages a smile. 

Wayne chooses that moment to open the door — just unclicking it, not pulling yet; giving Eddie enough time to support Harrington, make sure he doesn’t fall.

“Careful,” he whispers, though whether it’s for Wayne, for Steve, or for himself, he can’t quite tell. Maybe it’s a plea to the rest of the world, and to anyone else who will listen. 

Steve is still staring at him. That’s probably not a good sign. He leans back a little, turning Steve’s head to make him follow him. Slowly, of course. Gently. Eddie can’t remember ever having touched something like it was going to break if only he looked at it wrong, but somehow he’s hyper-aware of it now. 

Because Harrington is staring at him. Entirely too still, like he has no strength, no coordination to do anything but stare. And yet Eddie is the one who, now that the adrenaline has fallen from him, now that he can let someone else take over, now that Harrington doesn’t need him anymore, finds himself unable to look away. 

Because Steve is just a boy. And so is Eddie, who can feel Steve’s breath against his wrist. And maybe, out of the two of them, Eddie is the fragile one. The one about to break. 

“Blue, you with me?”

Steve nods. Doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t move. Eddie swallows, briefly looking back down at Wayne to see if he’s ready. His uncle nods, ready to catch Harrington should he go down, and Eddie turns back to the boy who’s smeared with his own blood.

“I’m gonna take off your seatbelt now, yeah?” he tells him, not entirely recognising his voice anymore. “That man out there, that is Wayne. My uncle. He’s safe. He’ll take care of you, okay?” 

“Safe,” Steve breathes, and that shouldn’t be the one thing he focuses on. It shouldn’t sound so unsure. So insecure. So hopeful, so relieved, so— Fucking earnest. 

Swallowing all these thoughts, all this desperation and all those questions, Eddie reaches over Steve, one hand still supporting his head and feeling the overheated skin of Harrington’s cheek against his palm, the hint of stubble and the crust of dried blood. As if in slow motion, not daring to make a wrong move and hurt him more than he already does, Eddie frees him the rest of the way, letting the seatbelt slide into its hold behind his shoulder. 

“Careful,” he says again, just to say anything, but he is careful, and his hold on Steve is steady. 

“‘M careful. Not gonna break, Eddie.” 

“I know.” But maybe I will. 

“Good. ‘Cause… Don’ wanna break.” 

Eddie smiles, despite everything. “You’re not gonna break, Blue. Wayne’ll catch you.” 

Harrington loses his focus then, his eyes glazing over, but the small smile on his lips widens. “Blue. ‘S nice.” 

Yeah, Eddie thinks. He kinda is. 

Somehow, miraculously, they get Harrington out of the van and into the trailer. He throws up halfway to the doorstep, and Eddie curses under his breath while Wayne talks quietly, asking him yes and no questions that Eddie can’t really hear through the ringing in his ears — a strange mix of fear and relief, a panic not quite over, but soothed by his uncle’s familiar voice; even if it’s not directed at him.

“Don’t worry about it, kid, the next rain’ll take care of that. Stop apologising.” 

It throws him then, rather suddenly and violently, watching Wayne supporting Harrington, watching the blood smeared boy with the swelling, angry red bruises in his face. Somehow it’s different, seeing him in his home. 

This was always a safe space. Always void of everything terrible. 

And now there’s a broken boy on his doorstep who’s not Eddie. 

He remembers the fear, the panic, the plea for no hospital, Eddie. Can’t go there.

Why not? You need a doctor—

Monsters. Only monsters there.

It paralyses him and he stays where he is, holding the door with an arm that’s heavy like lead, standing on legs that begin to go numb again. He watches, but not really, as Wayne sits Harrington down on the living room couch, between magazines and brochures and some of Eddie’s calculus notes from last night that he was searching for a sketch of a monster he was so certain he’d drawn in the margins a few weeks back. 

Now there’s blood on his calculus notes. And Eddie is helplessly keeping the door open as though he’s going to run away any second now. Letting in more trouble to join Harrington on his couch. 

He should… He should close the door. Help. Run. Disappear. 

“Ed,” Wayne calls, snapping him out of his stupor. “The first aid kit, please. A bottle of water. A clean, wet cloth. A blanket, too.” 

Wayne talks him through it, takes it one step at a time, has Eddie bring him one after the other like he knows how much he’s keeping his nephew together by keeping him on the brink of usefulness.

Soon, Wayne has everything he needs, taking care of Harrington and his wounds, keeping him awake and talking so much better than Eddie did, even making him smile here and there, hiding his wince when the motion pulls on his split lip or the huffed breath sends a jolt of pain through his rib that Eddie is absolutely certain must be broken with the way he holds himself — with the way he lets Wayne hold him up. 

Wayne is doing his thing and Eddie is hiding, gripping the kitchen counter like a vice, staring both unseeingly and hyper-vigilantly as exhaustion washes over him, dragging him under and draining him of more than adrenaline. He slumps against the cupboard behind him, rubbing at his face like that’ll make it all go away. 

It’s not right. It’s not. This is Eddie’s home, it’s supposed to be safe, it’s not… 

He breaks away, ripping his hands from the counter and all but stumbling outside, heaving a deep breath and giving in to the urge to cry. Tears spring to his eyes and he wipes them away angrily, because it’s dumb, it’s so stupid, it’s absolutely fucking insane that he should be so worked up when Harrington talked about dying earlier. 

These things don’t happen. They don’t! 

“Stop fucking crying,” Eddie grumbles, sniffling and wiping away more tears as he closes his eyes against the afternoon sun. “Get a grip, Munson, Jesus Christ, there’s no reason to cry you big fuckin’ baby.” 

Nobody’s there to contradict him. Nobody’s there to make it worse. So he lets his eyes sting for a while, lets his lips wobble, his jaw clenched shut, the balls of his hands pressing into his eyes, breathing deliberately. 

In. Hold. Out. Hold. 

He doesn’t even scream. Doesn’t punch the still bloody side of his van, doesn’t run into the woods and disappear into the void. 

He simply breathes. Tries not to think about boys dying in mall fires, and even less so about boys beaten and abandoned in boat houses.

Doesn’t think about fucking Hawkins in Bumfuck-Indiana and the cursed way it has, driving its people mad. 

Doesn’t think about, They said my brain is hurt, Eddie. Doesn’t think about the Monsters Harrington mentioned. Doesn’t think about Blue, doesn’t think about I’m tired, Eddie. Don’t wanna hurt anymore. 

Doesn’t think about blue, blue, blue. 

He’s shaking when he comes back inside. He’s shaking when Harrington meets his eyes, looking a little clearer now, the blood washed away and everything bandaged a lot better than Eddie managed. He’a bundled in Eddie’s blanket. It’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong. 

Eddie can’t move, and neither does Steve. 

“Steve,” Wayne says, waiting until those eyes tear themselves away from Eddie and back to him, though Eddie sees them fill with such trepidation, he almost asks what’s wrong. “I won’t hear a no on this, and I won’t let you go home. I’m taking you to the hospital. Especially if you tell me your head was hurt like this before, more times than one.” 

“Three,” Blue breathes, a little dazed still. Not magically healed, not even from Wayne. Another thing that doesn’t feel right. 

“Three times,” Wayne says, nodding, like he’s encouraging Steve to continue. 

“But I don’t want a hospital.” Again with that tiny fucking voice. Like the Monsters are hiding under hospital beds. 

“I know, son,” Wayne sighs, tugging the blanket a little tighter around Steve, and Eddie’s eyes begin to sting again when he notices the tone Wayne uses. When he realises. When he remembers. 

”I want my mom.“ 

”I know, son. But she’s not coming. Your mama is gone, Ed, and this is your home now. Think we can make that work, hm? You and I?” 

Eddie had never felt so lost as he did then, clutching his blanket to his chest, burying his face in the wet fabric even as this man — his uncle — tugs it tighter around him. Like he is fine with Eddie wanting to hide as long as he doesn’t run away. 

He had shrugged, then, even though we wanted to shake his head, tell him no, tell him he wanted his mama. 

”I’m scared, uncle Wayne.” 

And Wayne had smiled a little, and nodded. “Then we do it scared, Eddie.”

Actually, Eddie feels like he never stopped doing it scared. 

And now there is Steve, who Eddie never believed knew what being scared felt like. It’s dumb, of course, because even Harrington is just a boy, but he was always untouchable to Eddie. They never talked. They never existed in the same space together, not in a good way and not in a bad way. Their worlds just never aligned, never collided, never coexisted. 

And now… 

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, okay? There’s a doctor, Doctor Clarke. Like— Yeah, like your science teacher, remember him? ‘S got a brother who’s just as much of a genius, and just as kind. He’ll take a look at you, yeah? Make sure your brain isn’t too hurt, clean your wounds, give you something for the pain. He won’t, uh. He won’t hurt you, kid. Whatever’s got you so scared, Dr Clarke will be nice to you. Especially when I’m there with ya, I’m an old pal of his. And I will be. Won’t let you outta my sight until you’re well enough to run away from me, you hear me, kid?” 

Eddie’s hands are hurting, his fingertips raw from where he’s been biting his nails while Wayne talks Blue through what’s going to happen — and he wonders, with the way Steve’s eyes are glued to Wayne, if he ever had anyone talking him through shit like this. 

“Okay,” Harrington breathes at last, still sounding way too small. “But. I’m…” 

“Scared anyway?” Wayne offers. Steve nods. You’re so blue, Stevie. “Then we do it scared anyway.”

And they do. Wayne goes to get the car so Steve won’t have to walk too far, leaving Eddie alone with him for a brief moment. 

He watches, from his place in the kitchen, how Steve’s face falls into a look of utter exhaustion and tiredness; the adrenaline washing from him just the same. Eddie wants to reach out. Wants to say something, break the spell of tension and silence and I know we don’t talk, but I’m glad you’re doing a little better. I’m glad you’ll go see a doctor. I’m glad you haven’t died, I guess. Do you really think you will? Are you really so scared of that? 

But Eddie keeps biting his nails, and Steve keeps his eyes closed, blanket around his shoulders. And they don’t talk. 

“Thank you.” 

Eddie perks up, not entirely sure he didn’t imagine the words — but Harrington moved slightly, his eyes still closed but his face now turned towards Eddie. 

“For, uh. This.” 

“I didn’t do shit, Blue,” Eddie says. “That was all Wayne. All I did was freak out, I promise.” 

Harrington shakes his head, though, slowly. “Mh-mm.” 

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, because there is no room for discussion here. They don’t talk. And he doesn’t want the bubble to burst with insecurity and sourness. 

“Thank you,” he says again, and he sounds final about it. It makes Eddie wonder what he’s like, really like, when he doesn’t consist of pain and nausea and disorientation. 

He has a feeling that, despite everything, despite Monsters under hospital beds and torture in boathouses and mall fires that kill teenagers, Blue Harrington might be someone good to talk to. Compassionate as shit, even when all he wants to do is pass out. 

“You’re welcome,” Eddie rasps, pretending that his eyes don’t sting.

He wraps his arms around his chest like he’s hugging himself, or like he’s holding himself back. From reaching out, from asking, from telling, from talking. 

Unwittingly, even with his eyes closed, Steve mirrors him, and Eddie wonders if he, too, it holding himself back, or just curling in on himself some more even though it must hurt, feeling so small. 

Maybe that’s what fear of death does to a nineteen year-old. It’s so fucked up. Eddie wants to scream again. 

Outside, he hears a car door fall shut just before Wayne reappears in the door, giving Eddie some kind of meaningful look that he wouldn’t mind deciphering on any other day, but today he fears he needs words. 

“I don’t know how long this’ll take. Will you be okay, Ed?” 

“Will I be— Yes! I’m not the one with the concussion, man, of course I’ll be—“ 

It’s a bluff, comes too fast, and Wayne sees right through it before Eddie even realises it, and he steps closer. A warm hand on his shoulder. His eyes stinging again. 

“You did good, kid. Everything will be fine. But it might take a while. It’s fine if you need to go somewhere, just… Don’t drive. Call Jeff if you need someone, just. Don’t do anything stupid. And don’t get behind the wheel. Deal?” 

Eddie swallows hard, hit by another desperate, aching wave of I wanna go back in time and skip this day. A wave of tired exhaustion and wondering, aimlessly, just who the fuck Steve Harrington really is. 

“Deal,” he says, and Wayne pulls him into a hug. 

Eddie follows them outside then, trailing behind them like a lost little puppy, helping Harrington into Wayne’s car. His movements are still slugged and a little disoriented, so Eddie decides to lean in again and fasten his seatbelt. 

“Careful,” he mumbles, allowing the boy a moment’s warning, a moment to adjust before the weight settles on his chest. 

Dejá-vù hits him and makes him pause, with Harrington staring at him again. 

“I’m careful,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging into a little smile.

More lucid than earlier, and Eddie thinks it that which takes his breath away for a moment. 

“Not gonna break, Eddie.” 

“I know,” he says, still not moving back, instead reaching up to tighten the blanket around his shoulders even though the seatbelt is already there to hold it in place. “You’re not gonna break, Blue.” 

The smile on those lips is genuine now, gentle enough to not be ruined by the blood crusting them. 

“Thanks. Again.” And then, when Eddie finally pulls away to close the door and tell Wayne to drive safely, “I really do like that name.”

It soothes the urge to scream.

Eddie closes the door as gently as he can — which isn’t much, because the car is old and not exactly smooth. 

“I’ll see you later,” he tells Wayne. Promises. To stay out of trouble, to stick around, to not run away for a while again, to stay out of his car. 

Wayne nods, a faint smile on his lips. 

“Later, Ed.” 

And then they’re gone, and Eddie is untethered again. Wonders, for a few seconds every now and then if it really happened, if this is real. 

But it did. And it is. 

And after sitting on the steps for a while, having a smoke and staring at where Wayne’s car disappeared ten, twenty, forty minutes ago, Eddie heads inside. 

He has a phone call to make.

🤍🌷 tagging: @theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 (a thousand percent sure i missed some but oh well such is the 3am disease)

addendum 22 jan 24: onwards to part 3

[evilminji]

Huh >.> you know how Crechelings are basicly, like... possessed?

Like? They are cute af. But they VERY MUCH are constantly reaching out too and listening too the Force cause they are Baby and know jack shit? They are in that "why? Why? Why?" ×1000 stage of life. But instead of asking ADULTS, who might not always be on hand?

Well... the FORCE is on hand.

24/7!

Why NOT ask a cosmic driving force of all creation is you should have juice or water? This fruit or that vegetable? What are we gonna play today Effectively God? I'm a toddler! I don't know what boundaries are! Nor do I realize I probably shouldn't be bothering you with every single thought that passes through my head!

Yeeeeeah....

Tiny force sensitives? HELLA possessed.

They'll pull shit like "speak in prophecy" and "I stole a ship a can't even reach the controls off, to thwart an assassination attempt, because The Force Told Me Too, and that's why I'm on another planet and missed nap time." Plus the fun ol *hands a jedi master a rock* "the force says you'll need this! :D " *walks away, oblivious to the confusion they have wrought*

There is a REASON Creche master have to be SUPER patient types. And that parents are so often like "yeah, yeah we can't handle our kid. We love them. But this is beyond what we can parent."

Cause when your kid? Looks up from their mashpotatos? To casually drop "X is going to die soon." Or "he's going to betray you, you know" like??? Sweetie. Honey, youngling, you're THREE. Wtf. It's a BIT MUCH.

But? What I'm getting at?

I wanna see Creepy!ForceAvatar!Crechelings? Like it's... it's just a STAGE kids grow out off?

And I want it to save their fuckin LIVES.

Like? During the later stages of the Clone Wars. The Force is getting agitated. Knows what's coming. Does NOT like such imbalance and death. So? Even if the OLDER ones either can't hear it clearly or won't listen? The BABIES sure can.

And it's like a FUCKING HIVEMIND.

Absolutely HORRIFYING to behold.

All these lil babies. These wee lil toddlers n smol kiddos. Just... Stopping. Misstep. Balls bouncing past hands frozen, toys mid "woosh" motion, spoons half way to faces. All of it. Just... stopped.

They all cock their heads.

Like animals trying to hear a sound better.

Put down what they were doing. Calm as you please, ignoring everything around them, everyONE. Gathering their things from their rooms. Gathering the babies. Who are... oddly well behaved. It's the most calm and orderly anyone's ever see them. None of the creche masters can get their attention. Every attempt to physically get in the way is dodged before it's even attempted.

The children... calmly. Pleasantly. Like taking a stroll.

Steal a series of ships.

Broad daylight.

In... in front of everyone. No one can even STOP them. The Force is helping. All anyone can do is just? Follow.

They settle basicly a few weeks into the uncharted zone, in an old temple no one knew was there. All they will fuckin say is variations of "the Force says we live here now!" Like? Subtle this was NOT. I guess... we live here now?

.....huh.

It IS weirdly easier to think way out here.

As though we were no longer standing in the middle of some terrible smoke cloud. Nice and calm. Lots of Light. Unlike back o-.....waaaaait a fucking second. *sound of various Master's and council members connecting dots in their head*

>:O

@legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @spidori @lolottes @nerdpoe

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Seven — Azriel x Reader

Note: I hope you enjoy this part because I’m not overly happy with how it’s written, I don’t know why 😭probably just me being a DUMBASS. Also, it’s still not letting me tag some of you 😩anyone know why?

Summary: The Bat Boys are worried about reader. Cassian’s getting a little suspicious of Kaeda. Azriel is really, really missing his friend.

Word count: 7k.

Warnings: Some injury detail.

“He cannot do this. Surely, he cannot fucking do this.”

Azriel slams his fist on the table so hard that ale sloshes over the lip of a mug. The atmosphere in the mead hall is unusually calm tonight. There’s more laughter than arguing, and some dickhead with a lute is even providing the attendants with music. But at the centre table, a cloud of doom darkens the mood.

Everyone has wisely given Rhys, Cassian and Azriel a wide berth.

Tensions are high. Something’s got to give.

“His role in this camp is to oversee our training.” Az balls his fists. “Not to get involved with how we spend our time outside of it.” He eyes Cass and Rhys opposite him. “Right?”

“Technically, yes.” Rhys confirms. “But as the overseer of said training, he also has the authority to remove any distractions as he sees fit.”

“Distractions? She’s our friend, not a fucking toy—”

“I’m just putting it to you straight, Az. It’s the typical Illyrian attitude rearing its ugly head. All four of us made the decision to go to Fenlaros, and yet it’s the female who shoulders the blame.”

“It’s fucking ridiculous.” Cassian finally speaks up.

He hasn’t said much. Too busy thinking about last night.

Nobody knows a thing about that wild, impulsive fuck except him and Y/N. He plans to keep it that way. Not out of any sense of regret, but…he doesn’t know. His brain is ticking over.

He can’t help wondering something that’s never occurred to him before.

Is Y/N branded a certain way by Illyrian ideologies because the closest people to her are males? Has she unfairly gained a reputation — one that would be made worse if what she and Cassian had done became common knowledge?

He doesn’t want to be the reason she gets more shit thrown her way. He’s starting to think he should think harder before he acts. Maybe last night was a mistake. He can’t even see Y/N to talk it through with her.

“So what do we do?” Az is asking as Cass zones back in. “There’s got to be something. Do we take the matter to your father?”

Rhys cocks an eyebrow. “Be real for a second, Az. My father would laugh us out of Velaris. He doesn’t concern himself with trivial camp matters.”

“Y/N having to choose between an abusive household or perishing in the snow is not a trivial matter.”

“To him, it is. He’d tell Devlon to lead and do what he believes is right. Which, he already has, even if we don’t agree with it.”

“Well that’s bullshit. We can’t just lie down and do nothing—”

“I’m not saying that, Az—”

“What about your mother? She adores Y/N. Surely she could appeal to your father—”

“No. She’s pregnant. She stays out of this.”

“Then what do you suggest, Rhysand?”

“How about you start by explaining to Cass and I what’s gotten into you recently?”

Finally, Az has nothing to say. He goes silent. Still.

He stares back at his two friends like he can’t imagine why they would wonder such a thing.

And then he purses his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Cassian scoffs. “Please. Even I think you starting fights left and right has been extreme.”

“Fuck you. You’re totally exaggerating.”

Rhysand raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“We’re just worried that your behaviour has changed since Kaeda came into the picture—”

“You know what I’m worried about?” Az snaps. “Our friend who is literally homeless as of this morning. That’s a little more important, don’t you think?”

Yes…and no. It’s not that Cassian and Rhys don’t agree. It’s just that…that all roads lead back to Kaeda. And that’s becoming a problem.

“We’re not just going to leave Y/N to deal with this alone, Az.” Rhys tells him. “We just need to be careful about how we deal with it. Devlon isn’t messing around. I don’t want us to cause her more trouble.”

As folds his arms. “So what do you suggest?”

“I’ll talk to Y/N’s friend — Vegha. I’m sure she can open her home to Y/N while we figure things out. Just don’t do anything impulsive or stupid.”

That seems to appease Az a little. He sits back in his chair — allows himself to be a bit more open.

Until Cass totally fucking ruins it and says, “And don’t go starting any more fights just to impress Kaeda.”

Az says again, “Fuck you.”

Cass returns a withering look. “Fuck you right back.”

“Productive.” Rhys comments, shaking his head. He pushes to his feet, and both his friends look round.

“Where are you going?” Az asks.

“To speak with Vegha.” Rhys tells him. “And don’t follow me. You two idiots will only make things worse.”

He has no idea how right he is.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It starts with the fire going out. Always.

The door swings open hard enough to hit the wall, and freezing air envelops the place. Your father tracks snow into the house, and he smells so strongly of booze that it permeates the room and spreads like a sickness.

You are five years old. You like to draw things in the soot that coats the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. The house always feels untidy since mama stole away in the dead of night a year ago. You try to keep on top of the cleaning, but the damp and the cold makes your hands sore, your bones ache.

Every night, you sit with your hands in your lap and wait for your father to return home. If he’s coming back from the forge, he’s tired and in a bad mood. If he’s coming back from the mead hall or a tavern, he’s drunk and in a really bad mood.

Tonight is the latter. But not only is he drunk and in a bad mood — he’s also brought company.

Four other males. They’re all huge — too huge to fit into the house, you think. If they’ve come for food, there isn’t any. If they’ve come for comfort, there isn’t any of that, either.

But they’re looking at you, all four of them. And in some way, you know that it’s you they’ve come for.

“This is the one?” A male with reddish-brown hair asks.

“I have only one.” Your father answers, and he jerks a chin in your direction. “That is it.”

It.

“Scrawny. There’s barely anything of her.” A second male comments. “This won’t be difficult.”

“I always think that,” reddish-brown answers, “and then they start fighting back. Kicking and scratching.”

You may only be five, but you are not foolish. Something is very, very wrong. A sinister wave has swept your already-miserable home, and you are about to be swallowed up in it. You eye the four males with wide eyes and scoot back a little.

Reddish-brown is the leader. He folds his arms with an authoritative air and announces, “Pathorn and Yevmael can hold her down,” he turns to the second male, “you take one wing, and I’ll take the other.”

The male that steps towards you from the back has eyes as black as the soot in the hearth. His lips twitch up on one side, and he says, “Come here, then, little pup.”

You do not move.

“Come.” He repeats. “It won’t hurt…much.”

They laugh at that.

You tuck your dirty, bruised knees tightly into your chest and rest your chin atop of them. You say nothing, make no move.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His friend at the back says, stalking over to you. “Just pick her up.”

He does exactly that — by the scruff of your neck. You yelp as he yanks you into the air, and on instinct, your arms are flailing, legs kicking, tiny wings flaring.

“Look at that.” Charcoal eyes sneers at those very wings. “It’s a fucking abomination.”

If this is a game, you don’t like it. You twist in the male’s grasp, try to wriggle free, and he growls a curse at you. You growl back — a fierce, fierce noise, you think. It makes the males laugh again.

“On the table.” Reddish-brown says. “Face-down.”

“Papa,” you fight, “papa, papa, papa.”

There comes no response. It’s then that you realise he’s removed himself from the room. Left you with these monsters.

“Quiet now, pup.” Charcoal eyes says. “This won’t take long.”

You want to scratch him, and you try, even though your nails are chewed and bitten, despite mama always telling you not to do that. But mama isn’t here now and neither is papa. It’s just strangers with angry faces. Strangers who want to hurt you.

You’re slammed down onto the table, and you let out a cry. Someone holds your legs down. Another person holds your arms.

You are five years old. You like to draw pictures in the soot that covers the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. You are utterly and totally alone.

“I hope you never thought about flying.” Reddish-brown steps up to you. “That day will never come.”

And then they begin hacking at your wings.

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Your father takes you to a healer only when it’s almost too late. A fever scorches you head to toe. You think that mama returns to sit by your bedside, but that isn’t real. It’s a dream.

You’re too weak. You sleep fitfully on your front, because trembles wrack your body that continuously wake you up. You jerk every time the pain at your back gets too much.

The door opens, and you wonder if mama is returning again. You like that dream. But it’s your father, accompanied by the male who has been leaning over your weakened body for days.

“Will she live?” Your father asks.

“She will.” The healer tells him. “If she can fight off the infection.”

“Can’t you just give her a tonic, or something?”

“This is the worst wing clipping I have ever seen. There are ample healers in Illyria who are qualified to carry out the practice. What possessed you to instead leave her in the hands of a group of soldiers?”

“I will do with my child as I see fit.”

“You may no longer have a child, if she cannot fight this. Her life hangs in the balance.”

Your father makes a noise that sounds like a growl. He does that when you’re in his way, and he just wants to sit quietly without you lingering around him. “Give her a fucking tonic—”

“If she survives this,” the healer tells him, “she will be scarred and in pain for the rest of her life. You did not merely clip her wings. You butchered them. This is precisely why a healer should be the one to perform the procedure—”

Your body jerks with a fresh wave of pain, and you whimper. Both your father and the healer look over at you.

Your father’s lip curls, and he turns to the male once more. “Fix her.” He commands. “Because if you can’t, you’re helping me bury the body.”

No. The males will come back and put their hands on you again. They’ll bury a body. They’ll bury your body. They’re going to bury you. Soil will fall on your ruined wings, and when mama truly does come back, she’ll have only an unmarked grave to greet you at.

You try to move, but you’re strapped down. You whimper again.

Bury the body.

Bury the body.

Bury the—

Your body lurches up.

Sweat slicks your skin. You press a hand to your forehead, but it’s cool, not burdened by fever. You’ve awoken like this every morning for the past week.

The dreams are burdening you a lot right now. The memories.

They remind you, at least, why you will not return to your father’s home. Even if you end up hunching yourself up in doorways and exhausting any other dire options.

You hear a noise from the doorway, and you rub the bleariness from your eyes. Illuminated by the dim light in the hall, a male leans against the doorframe. He watches you nonchalantly, biting into an apple. Green, not red.

“You were shouting in your sleep again.”

You heave a deep, slow sigh and rake your fingers through your hair. Sweat soaks the strands.

“You dream often about burying bodies, don’t you?” The male steps into the room. He flares his wings, and you try not to look at them. “You’re quite odd. I think I like it.”

“Get out, Markis.” You sigh again. “Stop watching me sleep. It’s strange.”

“Is it more or less strange than chanting about burying a body?” He smirks. “And you’re in my house, remember? You can’t tell me to get out.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my house, too, and I can.” Suddenly, Vegha is appearing. She swats her younger brother, and a slither of relief settles into you. “Stop bugging her, Markis. Go to the training rings, or something.”

Markis so clearly doesn’t want to leave. He eyes you, his gaze falling from your neck, down to the old, threadbare sweater that you’ve been sleeping in. It’s Azriel’s — still smells like him.

The intensity of the male’s gaze is uncomfortable. And after a week of tolerating it, you’re not sure you can any longer.

“Fine.” He swallows down a bite of apple. He sends you a leering smirk. “I’ll tell your friends you said hello.”

Vegha rolls her eyes. “Markis, just leave before I boil your entire head—

“I’m going, I’m going.”

The male strides out of the room, shooting you one last look over his shoulder. You should ignore it, because the idiot is just basking in the novelty of having a female under his roof that he’s not related to, but the discomfort has sunk itself under your skin, and you’re not sure you can live with it.

Which is a bit of a problem, considering there are no other avenues for you to explore, and have nowhere else to go.

Vegha shuts the door behind her brother and turns to you. “You slept fitfully again.”

“Yes.” You feel a little bad admitting it. It’s not her, nor her family home, nor the bed that’s the problem. It’s you. All you. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“Of course, you do. I wish there was more I could do to help.”

“You’ve done more than enough, Vegha.”

She doesn’t look convinced. The worried streak in her eyes is an indicator of how terrible you look. And you know she’s just caring for you as your friend, but you can’t stand it. One more pitying glance may push you over the edge.

“I have to get to the crèche.” She tells you. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”

“No—thank you.” You sit up. “Listen…I won’t be here when you return home. I’m getting out of your hair today.”

She pauses. Studies you. “You’re not in my hair. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Ignore Markis — he’s a cock.”

You breathe a soft laugh. But you can’t ignore Markis — not any longer. Just as you haven’t been able to ignore any of the males who have made the past week even more difficult than it already was.

Illyrian males are…are a sickness. They’re bred in violence and depravity. So few of them are good.

And if the past week without Azriel, Rhys and Cassian has taught you anything, it’s that to some degree, your exposure to such behaviours has always been muted, thanks to their protection. They’ve been a strong unit around you since you were eleven years old. Most males have been wise enough to steer clear and escape the wrath that would come down on them for messing with you.

But now you’re forbidden from seeing them, and you’re free game for any fucking male in this gods-forsaken place.

You need to be away from them. To be on your own.

“I know.” You answer Vegha. “And I appreciate you opening your home to me, I really do. But it’s fine — I’ve made other arrangements.”

The look she gives you is dubious. She doesn’t believe you, and rightfully so — it’s total bullshit. “You have?”

“I have.” You dip your chin. “I’ll be just fine.”

“…well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll come right back here if those plans fall through, right?”

“Of course I will.” No.

She hesitates at the door. She’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to you — a real friend.

But it’s bad enough not being able to escape the males that haunt your dreams. There’s a damn good reason for you staunchly refusing to return to your father. You will not swap one monster for another.

“I’ll see you soon, then.” Vegha studies you. There’s a sadness in her brown eyes. She genuinely cares. “Take care, Y/N.”

“I will.” You force a breezing smile. “And you, also.”

She inclines her head, and then she’s slipping out of the room. The silence only gives way for your too-near dreams to dig their claws in. You scrub your hands harshly over your face and push to your feet.

You don’t know where you’ll go. It’s tempting to ignore Lord Devlon’s warning and race back to the cottage. Drama may await you there — a total mess that you somewhat made for yourself — but at least you’d be warm and safe while facing it.

You can’t — you know you can’t. You don’t want Az or Cass or Rhys to face any consequences.

So after you get yourself ready and gather what little stuff you have, you head out into the snow and hope you won’t be sleeping in it that night.

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Azriel strikes at the sparring dummy as if it fucked his wife and stole his seat at the dinner table.

The damn things are supposed to be bolted to the ground, but a couple of bolts are no match against the fearsome shadowsinger.

He strikes and strikes until the object is more or less obliterated, because fuck the sparring dummy, that’s why. Fuck the sparring dummy, and fuck Lord Devlon, and fuck—

“I think you made your point.” A trilling voice cuts through his red mist of rage. “How about you set the sword down and have some water?”

Perhaps it’s just Azriel’s anger thinking for him, but he doesn’t feel that Kaeda has been particularly helpful from where she’s perched atop a smooth rock. She cleans her nails with the tip of a dagger and stretches her wings out around her.

Across the ring, Cassian watches and turns to Rhysand. “Why is she allowed to be here, but Y/N isn’t?”

Rhys shrugs his tense shoulders. He doesn’t know the answer.

The two of them step closer to where their brother is trying to breathe through his fury. He’s not coping so well.

See, Azriel has experience with missing things. He misses his mother all the time. Sometimes it’s a dull ache, manageable amongst the mundane comings and goings of life. Other times, it hurts so bad that he doesn’t think clawing his chest open would be too extreme a reaction. Missing a person is a sensation that knits itself under his skin and seeps into the marrow of his bones. It’s relentless and hideous.

Missing Y/N is a new kind of torture he never contemplated having to face.

It’s not just that he’s worried about where she is, whether or not she’s safe and well. It’s that he misses the silliest, tiniest things about her that he didn’t even know he’d ever noticed in the first damn place. The rapt determination with which she cuts the crusts off her bread because that’s a little too much bread for her. The way she gestures wildly with her hands whilst passionately talking about things. That ruined, tattered journal she carries around in which she scrawls blunt, one-sentenced, sometimes unintelligible thoughts. And her scent — gods, her scent.

It has been one week — an amount of time he’s spent away from her before. But it’s different this time. This isn’t like being away on a training exercise and knowing he’ll soon be coming home. He knows nothing. Doesn’t even know what to think, what to feel.

Other than an overt urge to murder the camp lord. Violently.

“How about we get done here and head to the mead hall?” Kaeda breaks through his warring thoughts. “I’m starved.”

Az grabs a nearby rag, wiping the sweat from his face. “Not really hungry.”

There’s a pause. And then a soft sigh leaves the female. She sheathes her blade and pushes to her feet, just as Rhys and Cassian are approaching. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, Azriel, but you can’t be visiting my father with this attitude.”

At once, this grabs the other two males’ interests, and Azriel wants to groan. Right. He’d forgotten about that.

“What’s this?” Rhys frowns, staring between Az and Kaeda. “You’re returning to Fenlaros?”

“My father invited Azriel to dine with us, that’s all.” Kaeda answers for him.

It had genuinely slipped Azriel’s mind. Amongst everything else waging war in his thoughts, a dinner with Kaeda’s family in Fenlaros had sunk right to the bottom.

But he knows immediately how it looks. That he’s being secretive.

Rhys studies Azriel closely. “And you’ve cleared this with Devlon?”

No, no he hadn’t. Quite simply, he’s not sure he can be within twenty feet of the bastard, right now, without throttling him.

He hates himself for it — he really, truly does. But for the sake of sparing himself a lecture, he shrugs. “I have.”

He does not lie to his brothers. And they can smell that lie on him right away.

Cassian stares at Kaeda for a long moment, before turning towards Az. “That is a fucking terrible idea, and you know it.”

“It’s dinner.” Kaeda shoots back.

Cass grits his teeth. “I’m talking to Azriel.”

“Listen, Cassian—”

“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”

All four of them turn in the direction of the intrusion —and they stop short.

All three of the males know Vegha, of course. Rhys was grateful that she’d so willingly opened her home to Y/N when he’d asked. But other than that, they’ve only spoken to her in passing — she’s never had reason to seek them out before.

But what adds a slither of urgency to her rare appearance at the training rings is the even rarer appearance of the two little girls who hold her hands. They’re not supposed to be here, and Vegha knows this well.

She obviously deemed whatever this is urgent enough to bypass that rule.

“Vegha.” Azriel steps forward, studying her closely. “Is all well?”

Vegha shifts on her feet, clutching tighter onto the girls’ hands. She’s never comfortable here, around all these males, but it’s a different unwanted attention that makes her want to turn and leave.

Kaeda eyes her head to toe with a look of distaste. Of mistrust. She folds her arms and flares her wings — a gesture that has the little girls gasping.

“Settle down.” Vegha squeezes their hands. She directs her attention back to the males. Strange, that she feels more comfortable with them than she does with the only other female present. “Honestly, Azriel, I’m not at all sure.”

Rhys steps forward. “Is it Y/N?”

Cassian swears — swears — that a small sigh comes from behind him. From Kaeda.

“I know you’ve been instructed to stay away, and I don’t wish to cause you any trouble.” Vegha tells them. “It’s just…well, she was staying at my home this past week, as you asked, Rhysand. I told her she was welcome for as long as she needs — that she mustn’t return to her father’s house. But just this morning, she suddenly announced that she was leaving…that she’d found somewhere else to stay.”

“And?” The word slips from Kaeda’s lips.

Yeah, Cass definitely isn’t in the mood for this today.

“And…and I’m not sure I believe her.” Vegha shrugs slowly. “My brother wasn’t exactly making it a pleasant stay, and I think she was desperate to get out of there. But I can’t imagine where she’d go. I just…thought I should tell you. You know her better than I do.”

True — except her three closest friends can’t imagine where she’d go, either, if not back to her father’s house. And they can’t imagine her resorting to that.

She has no money for a room at an inn. She doesn’t have a long list of friends who will open their homes up to her. And she most certainly can’t go back to Rhys’s mother’s cottage.

So…where? Will she pitch up in one of the abandoned tents across the camp? Will she spend her nights shivering in doorways and wondering where her next meal is coming from?

This is fucking ridiculous.

She can’t be left to live like this.

“You did the right thing, telling us.” Rhys reassures Vegha. He offers a gentle, soft smile to the girls at her sides. “How about you take these two back into the warm? We’ll deal with it.”

Gods, he’s already a High Lord through and through. Calm in the face of turmoil. Not letting on to his inner panic.

Vegha dips her chin. “Sorry, again, for interrupting.” She tugs gently at the children’s’ hands. “Come, girls.”

Rhysand’s brow furrows. Vegha is perhaps the only other good friend Y/N has in this place. There’s no way she’s made other arrangements — Rhys knows it. Cassian knows it. Azriel knows it.

“We’ve got to do something.” Azriel voices what they’re all thinking, a feral panic colouring his tone. “We can’t just leave her to face this on her own. Fuck what Devlon says. I’m not sitting back and letting her freeze or starve to death.”

Rhys chews his lip. “…I can try to speak with my father. But I’m not hopeful where he’s concerned. This falls under Devlon’s jurisdiction.”

“All Y/N needs is a roof over her head and some food in her belly until we can work out what to do next.” Cassian crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be some way we can help. Is there not any clue of where she might go?”

The two males are looking at Az expectantly. If anyone knows, it’s him.

But he’s just…he’s not had his eye on the ball recently. His thoughts are all over the place. Perhaps he’s neglected his friendships a little — because he could swear he knows Y/N inside and out, and yet his mind is blank. Utterly fucking blank.

“I—I need to think.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning — he stops at the flash of red hair that meets him. He’d forgotten Kaeda was even there.

She stares between them, saying nothing, her face pinched and arms crossed. What she’s thinking, Az isn’t sure. But a thought suddenly strikes him.

“Kaeda.” He faces her properly. “Can’t you house Y/N in Fenlaros for the time being? Until this is sorted?”

Kaeda stops short. Blinks at him. “…What?”

“It doesn’t have to be your home, or…or even anything extravagant. Just somewhere she can sleep. There are surely more options in Fenlaros than there are here.”

Kaeda does not like this one bit. A negative reaction is rippling off her in waves, and it hits Cassian like a blast of cold air. Rhys, too.

But Az seems oblivious.

“Azriel…” The female keeps her voice calm, measured. “You know it isn’t that easy. A person can’t just…defect to another camp.”

“She wouldn’t—”

“So what’s your excuse?” The words are falling from Cassian’s lips before he can stop himself. He’s not sure he cares.

Kaeda pauses. Her face is a sheet of wide-eyed innocence as she turns to him. “Pardon me?”

Cass shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been buzzing around here for months like a fly. What’s your excuse, if that’s not allowed? Because your father may be Lord of Fenlaros, sweetheart, and he may let you do whatever you want, but look around you. This is Windhaven. His word doesn’t mean shit here.”

Azriel takes a step towards him. “Cassian—”

“Either help our friend, or stay the fuck out of it—”

“Cassian, that is enough—”

“It’s fine, Azriel.” Kaeda’s voice is so deceptively warm, you could melt butter on it. She steps towards Cassian, face open, hands held up in a placating manner. “It’s fine. You’re right. I understand you’re upset, and I…I apologise if my presence here has been burdensome. Of course I’ll help any way that I can. I’ll talk to my father right away.”

Cass doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by that. Doesn’t believe a fucking word, to be honest. His eyes communicate that as he stares the female up and down.

“Cass, I think you should apologise.” Azriel says.

He barks a laugh. “No chance.”

“Kaeda just said she’d help—”

“Enough.” Rhys finally jumps in. His tone is laced with authority — just a smidgen of an idea of what he might one day be like as High Lord. He crosses his arms and glares the three of them down as though they’re bickering younglings. “Arguing back and forth will do nothing to help Y/N. We need to act. I will speak to my father. Kaeda will speak to hers. Az, you should see if you can find out where Y/N might have gone. Cass, I want you making sure she doesn’t go anywhere near her fucking father’s house. By the end of the day, we should have at least sorted something. Understood?”

Cass doesn’t look away from Kaeda. He can see her eye twitching — the way she so desperately wants to push back against being ordered. Gods, how Az can’t see right through her, he has no clue—

“Understood.” Azriel answers without hesitation. “I’ll get right on it.”

Rhys inclines his head. “As will I.”

“And I’ll head back to Fenlaros.” Kaeda adds.

Cassian merely shrugs. “Fine.”

Without goodbyes, Azriel is shooting into the skies — probably hoping to get an aerial view of a sodden, freezing Y/N traipsing through the snow.

Rhys looks between Cassian and Kaeda for a beat longer before he disappears, winnowing — Cass assumes — straight to Velaris.

And then there were two.

Kaeda turns back to Cass. The doe-eyed look on her face is instantly gone. There’s a hint of a damn smirk.

“Whatever game you’re playing at,” Cassian clenches his jaw. “You will not win.”

A soft hiccup of a laugh escapes the redhead. “Oh, yes I will.” She steps closer. Close enough for her cotton-and-powder scent to envelop the male. “See, I always get what I want. Always.”

“Not this time. Azriel may not see you for the viper that you are, but I do.” He grits his teeth. “And I will fucking destroy you before you cause any damage.”

Green eyes glitter back at him. The female is unperturbed by the threat — and she knows he means it. There’s even a change in her scent that makes Cassian’s nostrils flare. A darker one. A muskier one.

“Oh, Cassian, I do hope so.” She says, and pushes up so her lips are at his ear. Her full breasts brush his chest. “I love a male who’s willing to punish me.”

She winnows away before the snarl has a chance to claw up Cassian’s throat.

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This is starting to feel like a bad idea.

It was easy, from the warmth and comfort of Vegha’s home, to convince yourself you’d be fine out amongst the wilds of the camp. But the old armoury is dark, dingy and cold, and within hours, you’re not sure you have the resolve for a single night there. Let alone however many you have ahead of you.

This used to be a place of mischief, when you and your friends were children. This far end of the camp has sat abandoned and unused for years, after newer, more effective training rings were installed where the hub of activity now lays. The four of you would spend days here, playing pretend with the old, wooden practice swords that were left behind. You’d make up stories of the area being haunted by the ghost of an ancient, disgruntled Camp Lord. And as you got older, it became a place to come and get drunk, to speak words and secrets that remained there, never to be carried away with you.

You won’t be bothered here, you know — nobody ventures this way. But that, and the fact that the old armoury affords you a roof over your head, are about the only positives. You’re so cold that it hurts. You’re hungry and miserable and tired in a way that has nothing to do with nightmare-filled sleeps.

And gods, you miss your friends. You miss them so much, it‘s a gnawing ache. All those nights you took for granted, tucked up warm in the cottage, Cassian making you all laugh with his antics. Those times seem so distant, now. Is this how it will be, from now on? Never did you think you’d be separated from your friends. And you don’t even know if this is a permanent thing. Will you have to wait and wait until Rhysand is High Lord and able to make decisions, before you can see them again?

These thoughts will do you no good. They’ll only make you colder and drive you to shed tears that you’re not sure you have the energy to shed.

You bundle in your blanket, squeezing your eyes shut as though that fruitless act will shield you from the cold. You were tempted to build a fire, but the last thing you want is to draw attention from anyone flying above. Being found in here will just bring you more trouble you don’t need.

You’re already hunched as it is, gloved hands buried under your armpits — but you somehow manage to tense even more when you hear the distinct sound of boots traipsing through the snow outside.

No.

You can’t do this — not right now. Nobody fucking comes here. Is the Mother laughing at you from above and sprinkling more misfortune into your already-dire existence? You can’t handle a confrontation, can’t handle being told you can’t stay here—

But the door creaks open, and it’s Azriel’s face that peers around cautiously. You almost sob with relief.

“Thank fuck.” He breathes. He’s slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. In a few great strides, he’s in front of you and dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”

If you speak, you might crack. You risk it all the same. “How did you find me?”

“Took me a while to think of this place, I must admit. It’s been a long while since we were last here.”

But find you, he did. And fuck, his scent and natural warmth are swarming you. It feels like nothing else matters right then. Just you and him, like it’s always been. He yanks you into a hug, and you don’t stop him.

“You’re frozen.” He whispers, squeezing you. His gloved hands rub at your arms, your back, your shoulders. He pulls away to cup your face, and he studies every inch of it. You’re not sure what for.

But you stare back. You don’t know what to do or say. That could be the cold making it difficult to think, or it could be this weird wedge between you that feels like it’s only growing.

Az leans closer, and he presses his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” His gloves brush over your cheeks. “Gods, I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” You shudder. The words are weighty and truthful, not just referring to this past week apart, but to whatever has been going on for a while, now. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. You just want to go back to how it was.

“I��ve thought about nothing else—” His nose bumps against yours, and one of his hands slides to the nape of your neck, kneading the skin there. “I just—just need you close to me, Y/N. Always.”

You attempt a breathy laugh. “I don’t think Devlon would agree with that.”

“Fuck, Devlon. We’re going to get around this. Rhys is going to talk to his father, and even if that fails, Kaeda is talking to hers. I reckon they’ll be able to offer you sanctuary in Fenlaros until this is sorted—”

You pull back to blink at him. Study him. “What?”

“I asked Kaeda to speak with her father on your behalf. To see if they can find somewhere for you to stay. I’m sure they can—”

“Azriel, I’m not going to Fenlaros.”

He pauses. “…If they’ll have you, Y/N, yes you are. It means you’ll be safe and warm and fed—”

“No.”

“What? Why?”

“Besides the fact that I’m already in enough trouble thanks to that place?” You pull away from him, easing to your feet. “I don’t know anyone there. And if Devlon were to find out—”

“Stop worrying about Devlon and start worrying about your safety.” Azriel, too, stands. “It’s the most logical thing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not going further away from you than I already am, and I’m especially not going to start playing house with your lover, Azriel, it’s odd—”

“That’s what this is about?” He cocks an eyebrow. Folds his arms. “Because you don’t want to accept help from Kaeda?”

You shrug. And just…just to give your body something to do, you begin pacing. “I’m not sure it would be very helpful at all.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You just don’t like her, do you?” He snaps. The sound is harsh, and it makes you grit your teeth. “You’re not willing to accept help that you so clearly fucking need, because you don’t like Kaeda.”

“I don’t trust Kaeda.” You whirl around to face him. “Not one fucking bit, and you shouldn’t, either.”

“Why?”

“Because none of it makes sense! Why is she here in Windhaven, Azriel? What is it she actually wants?”

It’s dangerous — the way your voices are rising in volume and echoing around the armoury. But it’s as though weeks of emotional buildup are floating to the surface, and you can’t stop them, and they’re stoking an anger that actually warms you and feels better than being cold and hungry.

Azriel shakes his head. “You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? You don’t want to help yourself. It’s like you’re determined to make your life as difficult as possible, and when you’re offered help, you don’t take it. You’re impossible!”

“Yeah, Azriel, maybe I am.” You snap back. “But at least I’m not lying through my teeth like Kaeda is, and at least I don’t break my damn promises.”

Azriel stops short. Stares at you.

You and he both know you’re referring to Solstice Night. You should have confronted it before, but…but you buried it.

You’re not sure you can do that anymore.

Azriel purses his lips. And then has the nerve to state, “Things are different between you and I these days.”

“Yes.” You stare back at him. “They are.”

Your eyes are trying to communicate so much. Things are different, and it might be the boundaries you crossed, but you’re more certain than anything that it’s Kaeda’s influence. You just don’t understand why Azriel can’t see it.

You wonder what he might say yet. So much anger and pent-up frustration zips between you. Mixed with longing and missing each other. Loving each other. Wanting to scream at each other, and for each other.

And part of you wants him to spit vicious words and fight back, just for you to feel something — even though you know that’s not Azriel’s style. But you stare and stare, and neither of you speak, and then Az is shaking his head and clenching his jaw.

“I’m not arguing with you here.” He says. “It’ll only draw attention to us.”

You fold your arms. “Fine.”

“I’m going to speak to Rhys, find out what his father said. And I’ll speak to Kaeda—”

“Go right ahead. I’m still not stepping foot back in Fenlaros—”

“And I’ll bring you some blankets and food. Or Cassian will. Or…whatever.” He stops still for a second, swallowing. “But we need to fix this shit between us.”

You know that. But you’re so fucking stubborn, your own worst enemy. And right then, you want to scream. Cry. Hurt him how he hurt you.

So you say nothing. You just shrug again.

He stares, as if waiting for a better reaction. And then he shakes his head once more and turns, striding back to the door. You wonder if it’s a bad thing to let him go, like this. When will you see him again? How will things be when you see him again? You’re making it worse for yourself, for him, for both of you.

You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure. But you’re stopped by Az pausing with his hand on the doorknob. With his back to you, his shoulders tense. He’s frozen in place.

And then he speaks — growls — two words. “Fuck this.”

He turns, marching back over to you so fast, you don’t have time to react.

And then he’s grabbing your face, and his mouth is on yours.

azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd

[kpop---scenarios]

Day Five: Lee Know

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Warning: Smutty smut, public smut.. smut [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT READ!]

Word Count: 1.1k

Day One: Felix | Day Two: Jeongin | Day Three: Changbin | Day Four: Jisung

“Y/N!” Chan exclaims as you and your boyfriend, Lee Know sit down at the table in the fanciest restaurant you have ever been to.

“Hi.” You giggle. “Hi everyone.” You smile and wave to all the boys.

“How are you? I feel like we haven't seen you in a really long time.” Chan laughs.

“Oh I know, I've just been so busy with work, and stuff. It's been a lot. But it's finally settling down now.” You grin.

“I'm glad things are calming down.” Chan smiles. “Have you been doing anything fun?” He asks. As you continue on with your conversation with Chan, you can feel Lee Know's anger bubbling up as you giggle at Chan's jokes, and keep talking to him. you're in the middle of a sentence when you feel a hand on your bare thigh. You look down and then up at Lee Know and he's still in a conversation with Changbin, acting completely nonchalantly as his hand trails up your thigh and past the hem of your skirt. He moves his hand towards your inner thigh, pulling it over to open your legs. You're trying to maintain eye contact with Chan and contribute to the conversation but your pussy is pounding at the thought of Lee Know touching you while you were out to dinner. You can feel his fingers creeping in towards your cunt, and you can feel the wetness soaking through your panties. His fingers lightly graze your lips. He glances over at you, watching your breathing and your facial expressions. He loves to see you so desperate for him. He leans over to you, his lips brushing your ear. “Go to the bathroom and take off your panties.” He whispers, sitting back up to continue his conversation with Changbin. You quickly excuse yourself from the table, speed walking to the restroom. You get into a stall and quickly remove your underwear, crumpling it up in your hand as you walk back to the table. You slide back in your chair, next to Lee Know who opens his hand under the table. You place your panties in his hand, making him smirk as he shoves them in his pocket. He scoots his chair a little closer to yours, his hand back on your thigh. You slink down slightly in your chair, opening your legs for him, so needy for his touch. His fingertips graze over your lips, moving two fingers between to touch your clit. You bite your lip as he slowly moves his fingers in a circle. You close your eyes for a second so no one sees them roll into the back of your head.

You let out a deep breath as he teases you, moving his fingers so slowly, it was killing you.

You lean over to whisper in his ear. “Please. Faster.” You cry. He looks at you with a smile, leaning into you. “You shouldn't have been flirting with Chan, then maybe you wouldn't be getting teased right now.”

Fuck you loved a jealous Lee Know. You slump back in your chair continuing to die from his slow movement. Chan tries to speak to you, and you try to answer, but you're interrupted by Lee Know dropping his fork on the floor.

“Ah, I'm so clumsy.” He chuckles. He gets down, under the table. You're about to ask if he needs any help but you feel his hands force your legs open even more before he licks a strip up your pussy from under the table. You stifle yyour moan but just barely as he latches his lips to your clit, sucking harshly. This was so fucking hot, and you were ready to cum.

“Do you need help, Lee Know?” Jeongin asks.

“Nope.” He answers, releasing your swollen clit. “Found it. It was under Y/N's foot.” He chuckles, sitting back in his chair.

“Are you okay, Y/N? You don't look well.” Chan says. You were fine, you were just a horny desperate girl who needed her boyfriend to fuck her senseless.

“My stomach is acting funny.” You manage to say.

“Ah, maybe we should go.” Lee Know suggests.

“Yes, I think so.” You agree, standing up a little too quickly. Lee Know walks out of the restaurant behind you, trying to hide the large bulge in his pants. Once the two of you are outside, it's quiet. It's only the two of you on the street. Lee Know grabs your wrist, pinning you against the back of his car.

“You love to rile me up.” He smiles. “Don't you?”

“I do, I love what you do to me when I do.” You smile.

“Mhm, like what I was doing in there?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. “You didn't get to cum.”

“I didn't. I need to right now.” You whine. He grins as he turns you around, pushing you face down onto the car. You can hear him undoing his belt behind you, just letting his cock free. He spits in his hand, jerking his cock before he kicks your legs apart. He roughly slides his cock inside you, pushing himself in as deep as he can. He looks around to make sure no one is around before he pulls out, slamming back in.

“Fuck.” He groans, holding onto you tightly. He thrusts deep into you over and over as you reach between your legs, rubbing your throbbing clit.

“Public fucking, ugh, such a fucking turn on.” He groans, ramming his cock into you with as much force as he can.

“Oh my fucking god.” You cry. He reaches up, grabbing a clump of your hair, pulling you back towards him as he thrusts faster.

“Fuck you take dick so good baby.” He moans. You rub your clit faster, the adrenaline of possibly getting caught makes your orgasm build up so much faster.

“Please let me cum.. can I please?” You cry out loudly. You don't care if anyone hears you, right now you just need to cum.

“Ahh good girl.” He groans. “Cum baby, cum all over my cock.”

“Oh fuck.” You cry out as your orgasm explodes through your body. You squeeze your wet cunt around his cock, as you cry out, laying down on the car.

“So fucking hot.” He grunts, cumming right after you, pumping his cum so deep inside you. He tries to catch his breath as he pulls out of you, helping you adjust your skirt. He looks at you with a grin on his face as he fixes the makeup under your eyes.

“Wanna go back in?” He asks.

“I'm so hungry now.. but what do we tell them?” You whisper. “My stomach was supposed to be hurting.” You giggle.

“We'll just say whatever.” He smiles, taking your hand in his. “But.” He begins, leaning in close to you. “Don't you dare clean my cum from your pussy. They all need to know you're mine.”

[mythicmanuscripts]

SUB!AEGON HEADCANNONS

Alright since I just wrote sub!aemond headcannons, I think it's only fair that I follow it up with the same for Aegon! If you like what you see here, check out my blog to read my other works and feel free to send some requests or thoughts of your own!

Needless to say, NSFW content under the cut

right so firstly, needy. This will be a surprise to absolutely no one.

Aegon is in a constant state of whiny, pathetic horniness that leaves him whimpering and whining and tugging at your dress until you give him some attention.

From the very first time you show even the slightest bit of dominance towards him, he's obsessed. He's immediately following you around like a lost puppy.

You have to be harsh with him, and he actually thrives when you're so strict with him?

Aegon struggles a lot with both not feeling good enough and also feeling guilty and like a disappointment. So when you give him orders and he accomplishes them of course he feels great, but more importantly, when he breaks a rule and you punish him, then he actually feels so much better afterwards?

You use spanking the most. At first you tried to use silent treatment or not touching him as punishment first but both of those ended in Aegon sobbing into your chest because he thought you didnt love him anymore, so you don't do that again and always use spank him.

You spank him until his poor ass is bright red and he's crying and clutching a pillow as he's bent over your knee. But then, then when it's finished? Then you gently help him up and let him cuddle into your chest, kiss the top of his head and tell him he took his punishment so well and you forgive him and it's like he can physically feel a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

In fact sometimes you will need to spank him so that he can forgive himself and move on? Like maybe he'll do something stupid during a small council meeting or something and even though you arent upset with him, you take him over your knee anyway because otherwise he'll beat himself up for it until he ends up drowning his sorrows in wine.

Speaking of wine, Aegon's alcohol consumption is not even a quarter of what it was before. It's so much less that the master of coin actually starts ordering less wine for the castle.

Having heard so much about Aegon's notorious drinking, you thought it would be impossible to get him to lessen his drinking, but it turns out that it was actually extremely easy. You just tell him that if he wants to please you he needs to drink less, and instantly he's doing his level best.

Maybe you even control his wine consumption? You're the only one who can fill his glass and he can't drink wine without permission and he actually thrives?

Oh also, he's obsessed with you. His mood sours if he doesn't see you for an hour. He is so so so needy and he will make it absolutely everyone else's problem if he can't find you.

Also he wants to be fucked. If you don't have the equipment for that, then he will order some ivory or jade objects shaped like dildos and he will whine and beg and cry as you fuck him with them.

Also you have to overstimulate him at least twice a week, if you don't he will be utterly insufferable. And I don't just mean make him cum twice, I mean overstimulate him until he is sobbing and begging for mercy, until his poor cock can't even produce anything for his final orgasm.

And then you just have to gather him into your arms, letting him snuggle and kiss your neck and let out little whines until he's calmed down enough for you to haul him into a bath.

[nisuna]

Need more yuuji smut!!

So hear me out-

bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.

Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff

Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3

⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this

TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji

~2,8k words~

<3masterlist<3

--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------

Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.

It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.

"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.

"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?"

"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.

"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"

"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."

"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.

"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.

"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.

"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."

You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.

He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"

"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.

"Want me to carry you?"

"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.

"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."

"Okay."

After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.

Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.

------

You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.

"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."

"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"

"All day actually...", you confessed.

His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.

After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."

"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Can we cuddle too?"

"We can do whatever you need."

That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"

"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."

"But I'm sure, I really want this-"

"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."

You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.

You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.

After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.

"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.

"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.

"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."

You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.

"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.

"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.

"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.

"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.

"Nope."

"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.

"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."

That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.

"You're practically drooling."

"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.

"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.

"Can I touch you?"

"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"

His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.

"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.

"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.

"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.

"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.

"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.

"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."

Before he could leave you, you stopped him.

"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.

"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.

Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.

He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.

"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."

"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.

"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."

You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.

Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.

"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."

So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.

The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.

"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."

If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.

"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.

Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.

When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.

Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.

"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."

"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.

You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.

"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."

You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.

Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.

--------

If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah

Hope to see you all very soon<3

[yuyu1024]

Can't sleep

Pairings: San x Y/N

Genre/tags: roommate

Warning: angst? smut 🔞 a little jealousy, probably kinks? fingering, fwb

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 800

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: looong time no post 😅 been busy. Barely sleeping and barely... alive lol

This is just a drabble bcoz of this clip

Have a nice day!

Masterlist

-----------------------------------------------------

"San...?" You weakly knock on his door. "Are you still awake?" You whisper making sure he is the only one who can hear your voice behind the door.

Everyone is fast asleep after a night out and drinks earlier. Though you are a bit tipsy yourself from having a few drinks, you can't seem to fall into dreamland. The sound of the rain and thunder is keeping you awake.

Wearing nothing but his black pajama pants, San opens his bedroom door for you. "I told you to come straight to my room after you showered." He says as he gestures you to come in already.

"I thought I'd be K.O by now..." you crawl on top of his bed and immediately goes into your favorite spot.

"We both know you need me for you to fall asleep." He smiles as he closes the door behind him and locking it.

You pout. "I can't get used to this. What if you're not around... what will I do?"

Smiling with no teeth showing, San slides in the bed beside you and signals you to come closer.

"Why would I not be around?" He puts his arms around you as you scoot over.

And out of habit, you swing your leg over to him, snake your arms around his waist and lay your head on his chest. "So warm..." you mumble

"So... you came here just to hug me?"

You look up at him, with your puppy eyes. "Don't you want to cuddle?"

He chuckles. "Of course, I do." Then he lowers his face so he could kiss your pout. "But you know I want something else...besides the cuddling..." he whispers

His free hand goes straight to the point. To your sensitive bud that is poking out through your white shirt.

"Did you really walk from your room to mine... not wearing anything underneath?" His lips then goes to kiss you. A moan escapes your breathing when you felt him pinch your nipple. "What if one of them saw you? Hmm? Did you forgot your roommates are all boys?"

You don't have a chance to answer him. His hand already slid down to your heated core, barely giving you a chance to explain.

"Hmmm..." he inhales onto your skin. "You're wet already... I barely even touched you..."

You throw your head back, eyes close, as you feel his magical fingers tease you over your panties.

"Moaning does not answer my question darling..."

You spread your legs open, giving him full access. Your back is now laying on his bed and his hovering on you, watching you melt with just a few fingers caressing your clothed core.

"Did you forgot to speak?" He kisses your chin and then your lips. "If you don't answer me... I'll stop..."

Opening your eyes, "I... made sure they were alseep..."

"Really?"

You nod.

"What if they saw you? What will you do if one of them saw your tits through this thin material?" He is insane for making you go crazy. Before you could even think, his lowers his tongue so he could lick your buds through your shirt. Making them perky. "I know... we are still a secret... but you know me... What's mine is mine... I don't want any of them getting a glimpse of what is MINE."

He pushes the material on the side and puts a digit in you. You yelp, releasing a loud cry. That cry could wake everyone up. But your lucky that the loud thunder came crashing with you that it over powered your sound.

"Fuck... look at you... already fucked up by just my finger..."

"Oh... oooh... ahhh..." quick inhales and exhales with every push and pull.

"You like that huh? You like, me fingering you, every time you have a hard time falling asleep... hmm?"

"I... ah... I do...." you look at him with barely open eyes. "You finger fuck me so good that... ahhh... it calms me..."

"What about my dick? What do you feel if my dick is inside you?"

"Ahh... a-alive..." you bite your lower lips as you feel the sensation creeping in your gut. "San! I think... I'm going to..." before you could even finish, you came. San's hand is covered with the evidence. "Oh crap! I made a mess on your bed!" You panic as you see his blanket wet.

"Don't worry about it. It's just a blanket. I can put it in the laundry tomorrow morning.." he kisses you on the lips and then licks his finger. "Do you feel good now?"

Blushing, "Yes..."

"Good." He gets up to grab a warm wet towel from his bathroom to get you cleaned.

"You know... you act so different when it comes to sexy time and our daily lives."

"I do?" He arches a brow as he wipes you clean.

"You are the sweetest and gentle guy I know..."

"But...?"

"But... when it comes to this...or like sex... your a completely different person."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No..." you cup his face and gives him a long wet ass kiss. "It's sexy..."

[jzprncess]

the missing melody ♪

pairing : franco colapinto x singer!reader

faceclaim : various people!

summary : after several months of silence, Y/N L/N, a renowned singer, unexpectedly surfaces at a Formula 1 Grand Prix, leaving everyone wondering about her disappearance. Her arrival catches the eye of a talented rookie driver, intrigued by her in many ways then one.

part 1 out of unknown parts

warnings : some singers do not exist in this au since i might take their songs! read my note before reading!

note : first smau! Let me know in the comments for feedback! I actually had inspiration for this one. i don't think this is too long or too short, so expect the next parts to be the same length! this will be at the cota race in austin in october but with the the baku results because thats when they both got points (the william drivers). i

   ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

F1GOSSIP just posted

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F1GOSSIP after several months of speculation and silence, y/n l/n resurfaced this weekend at a grand prix, and fans are buzzing! our sources say that y/n has always been a f1 fan but has never actually been to a grand prix! why now? did she get bored doing what she was doing? why was she gone for so long?

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username1 WHATTT?!?

username2 wait? MY QUEEN?!?

username3 where? i’m here also!! where is she?!?

username4 she’s still so pretty 😍

username5 NO WAY YOURE LYING?!!?

username6 no one understands how bad i missed y/n!!! 

username7 i almost had a heart attack oh my FUCK

username8 i’m totally not freaking out rn 😊😊

username9 i used to pray for times like this 🙏🙏🙏🙏

username10 DOES THIS MEAN MORE MUSIC? PLEASE ITS BEEN MONTHS IM STARVING!

yourusername added to their story

view story replies 

username1 we missed you y/n!

f1 hi y/n! we’d love to have you come down and join us in the paddock! let us know if you’re interested!

y/n’s pov

I stare at the text message from the F1 account on Instagram, my thumb hovering over the screen. It’s been months—months of quiet, isolation, and letting the world forget me while I tried to remember myself. I glance around the room, so used to its stillness. The familiar hush, once comforting, now feels almost suffocating. Outside the window, life goes on, people go on, and I’m here, still debating whether I’m ready to step back into it.

My eyes drift over the message again. Maybe it’s time. Time to hear the noise, to feel the movement, to breathe in more than just silence. I sigh, gathering the courage I didn’t realize I still had in me. With a deep breath, I pick up my phone and click on the message. It’s time to be out there again.

messages

I turn off my phone and place it face down on the table, the screen going black as if signaling the shift I’m about to make. My eyes wander out the window, where the grandstands loom in the distance, already buzzing with life and anticipation. A knot of nerves twists in my stomach as I realize what stepping back into the limelight really means. After months of silence, the thought of all those eyes on me again makes my breath catch in my throat.

I close my eyes for a moment, taking in a few deep breaths, willing myself to calm down. The air feels cool and crisp against my skin, a slight contrast to the rising anxiety inside me. Reaching for the complimentary bottle of sparkling water on the table, I unscrew the cap, the soft hiss breaking the quiet. I take a sip, hoping the bubbles will settle me.

Just as I set the bottle back down, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye—someone walking toward my table. My heart skips a beat, but before I can gather my thoughts to say something, they speak first, breaking the moment.

“You must be Y/N! Hi, I’m Diana (not relevant to anyone irl), here to guide you down and give you the paddock tour!” Her smile radiates warmth, as if it spreads from her lips all the way down to her toes, instantly putting me at ease.

I return the smile, though mine is softer, still testing the waters. “Yes, that’s me.” My voice feels steady, which is a small relief.

I stand up from my seat, taking a moment to smooth down my outfit. Carefully, I push the chair back into place, making sure every movement is deliberate, giving myself just a little more time to adjust. I reach for my phone, sliding it into my back pocket, the familiar weight grounding me. Then I pick up my purse, feeling its soft leather strap slide over my shoulder as I take a deep breath.

“Ready?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I nod, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves swirl inside me as I let her lead the way, stepping back into a world I’ve been away from for so long.

As we make our way through the winding hallways of the paddock, the hum of activity grows louder with each step. My heart beats in time with the click of my heels on the hard floor, and I can feel the familiar rush of anticipation building as we head down the stairs toward the grid. With each step, I mentally brace myself for the crowd—the faces, the voices, the attention. It’s been so long since I’ve been in the thick of it all, and I silently rehearse how to hold myself together.

Just as my nerves start to rise, Diana slows her pace and falls into step beside me. Her presence is steady, comforting. “If you ever want to head back up during your time down here, just let me know,” she says gently, her voice low enough that it feels like she’s speaking just to me, despite the noise around us. “The team let me know you might be feeling a bit nervous with how sudden all this is.”

Her words catch me off guard, and my heart skips a beat, warmth spreading through me. The thought that the team has gone out of their way to make sure I’m okay—that they’re taking precautions for me—feels incredibly thoughtful, almost protective. It’s more than I expected.

I can’t help but grin, the tension in my chest loosening just a bit. “That’s really sweet, thank you,” I say, my voice light with gratitude. Knowing they’ve got my back makes everything feel a little less daunting.

I smile as I hear the start of one of my songs, love story , start playing (by taylor swift) in the background. As I start to hum, my phone dings.

I took my phone out of my back pocket and looked to see a message from Williams Racing on instagram.

messages

I slip my phone back into my pocket, feeling its familiar weight settle against my hip. Turning my attention to Diana, I notice she’s mid-conversation, her voice lilting as she discusses the unusually warm weather for this time of year. The sun beats down, making the air almost sticky, and I can feel a light sheen of sweat beginning to form at the back of my neck. I clear my throat with a small cough to get her attention before speaking.

“I’ll be alright now,” I say, my voice sounding steadier than I feel. “I got invited to the Williams garage.”

Her eyebrows lift in mild surprise, and she tilts her head with a curious smile. “Oh? That’s nice. I can walk you there if you’d like,” she offers, a hint of genuine warmth in her tone as she falls into step beside me.

I nod gratefully, returning her smile. “Thanks, I’d appreciate it.”

As we make our way through the crowded paddock, the buzz of activity surrounds us. The hum of engines revving in the distance, the faint scent of burning rubber, and the excited chatter of fans create a sensory tapestry that is unmistakably Formula 1. The Williams garage is up ahead, its blue and white banners standing out among the sea of team colors.

Just as we draw closer, I spot a familiar figure—Mr. Vowles, the team principal, standing by the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back as he speaks with a group of engineers. There’s a calm authority in his posture, even as the hustle of the race weekend unfolds around him.

My pulse quickens as we draw even closer to the Williams garage. The flurry of activity around us feels almost suffocating, and I can’t help but notice the curious glances from passersby. It’s my first public appearance after months of being away, and the weight of those unsaid questions hangs heavy in the air.

As we approach the entrance, Mr. Vowles looks up from his conversation, sensing our presence. His expression shifts from concentration to a welcoming grin, the lines around his eyes crinkling with warmth. “There you are,” he says, his voice carrying a tone of easy familiarity. “Hello, Y/N! I’m James Vowles, but please, just call me James.”

He extends a hand, his demeanor friendly and inviting despite the bustling surroundings. There’s a hint of recognition in his gaze—like he’s aware of who I am, or maybe just curious about the singer who suddenly vanished from the limelight.

I hum softly, finding my voice as I step forward to shake his hand. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, James.” I offer a small smile, hoping it comes across as more confident than I feel. “Thank you for offering up your garage for me. I appreciate the hospitality.”

His grin widens, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—respect, perhaps, or a subtle acknowledgment of the unspoken stories that linger between us. “Our pleasure. It’s not every day we have a special guest with such a storied background. You’re more than welcome here.”

Diana hums thoughtfully and glances at James, a playful glint in her eye. “I leave her in your care,” she says with a smile, her tone light but sincere. She then turns to me, her expression softening. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Until next time,” she adds, giving me a small wave before turning on her heel and walking off, her figure soon blending into the sea of people.

I’m left standing at the entrance of the garage, the faint sounds of machinery and chatter surrounding me as I take in the unfamiliar scene. There’s a moment of hesitation, the feeling of being out of place creeping in despite the warm welcome.

“So… what now?” I say, glancing up at James with a faint chuckle to mask my uncertainty. “I’ve never been to one of these before. No idea what I’m supposed to do.”

James chuckles at my honesty, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Well, I’m sure Diana gave you a good tour around the paddock and the grid,” he says, crossing his arms casually. “But how about meeting the drivers? I’m sure Alex and Franco can spare a few minutes to say hello.”

There’s a friendly enthusiasm in his voice, as if he’s eager to make me feel at home in this high-octane world. The idea of meeting the drivers piques my curiosity, and a hint of nervous excitement stirs within me.

I perk up at the suggestion, though the flutter of nervousness in my chest is hard to ignore. Meeting the drivers feels like venturing into unfamiliar territory—a glimpse behind the curtain that I’m not entirely sure I’m prepared for. I’ve spent so long away from the public eye that even casual encounters seem daunting, like I’m out of practice.

“That sounds great,” I reply, managing a genuine smile despite the unease tightening in my chest. “I’d love to meet them.” My voice wavers just a little, betraying the anxious energy simmering beneath the surface. “I’ve seen Alex race on TV before, but I’ve never actually met a driver… or been this close to the action.” I laugh softly, hoping it comes off as lighthearted rather than strained.

“Lead the way?” I add, glancing at James with a mix of eagerness and uncertainty, my hands fidgeting at my sides. There’s excitement, yes, but also the familiar weight of anxiety, making me wonder if I’ll manage to fit into this world—or if I’ll just feel out of place all over again.

f1 just posted!

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f1 a little birdie told us y/n is in the williams hospitality! it looks like williams was the only team to invite y/n inside or the only team she was interested in? #F1 

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username11 i doubt williams was the only team to invite her!

username7 why’re you making it sound like the other teams dislike her? 😭

username2 i still can’t believe y/n is outside 😧

williamsracing the little birdie is correct! she’s safe and sound with us! 💙

↳username11 does this mean she’s meeting the boys???  

↳williamsracing she’s about too! 

username3 but what does this mean musically? is she back? #imdelusional 

third pov

James had sent a message to the drivers’ group chat well before inviting Y/N to the garage, giving them a heads-up to expect a couple of guests later in the day. In the text, he made it clear that they should stay put in Franco’s room and be on the lookout for their arrival. With James’s usual eye for organization, he had made sure to emphasize the importance of keeping things discreet, hoping to avoid any unnecessary chaos in the busy environment.

Inside Franco’s room, the air buzzed lightly with anticipation. Alex and Franco were seated on the worn leather couch, chatting casually about their upcoming schedules. The conversation meandered from the logistics of travel to plans for the off-season, each driver sharing his own ideas for how to make the most of the downtime. Their words overlapped occasionally, excitement rising as they discussed possible locations for training and leisure.

Suddenly, a sharp knock interrupted their conversation. Both men paused, glancing at each other before Franco rose from the couch, crossing the room to open the door.

Franco approached the door, turning the handle and pulling it open just enough to catch a glimpse of James standing on the other side. As recognition set in, he swung the door wider, making room for James to step through. A moment later, Y/N appeared behind him, her presence drawing immediate attention as she trailed closely after James.

James strode confidently into the room, his usual air of authority softened by a hint of excitement. “There’s someone I’d like for you two to meet,” he announced, his tone carrying just a touch of mystery. With a subtle gesture, he stepped aside, allowing Y/N to take center stage, her figure framed in the doorway as the focal point of the room.

As Y/N stepped into the room, Alex’s eyes flicked over to her, and he stood up slowly. He knew of her—the whole world did—but seeing her in person, especially after her months away, was different. She held herself with a quiet determination, though there was still a hint of uncertainty in the way her gaze briefly dipped to the floor before rising again.

“Hi, I’m Alex,” he said, keeping his voice soft and extending a hand. He noticed only the slightest hesitation before she took it, her grip firmer than he’d expected.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N replied, her voice steady. She met his gaze, her expression composed but carrying a guardedness that suggested she was still finding her footing. It wasn’t shyness, exactly, but a careful control—like she was reminding herself to be present in the moment.

“It’s good to see you here,” Alex offered with a gentle smile, his tone casual. “Hopefully, things are looking up.”

Y/N nodded, a small smile touching her lips. “Trying to,” she said, her voice a little stronger now. There was more left unsaid, but she seemed willing to let the silence speak for her rather than rushing to fill it.

As Alex stepped back, Franco took a step forward, his gaze irresistibly drawn to Y/N. The moment their eyes met, the world seemed to still, and time stretched in that small space between them. His breath hitched as he glimpsed something in her expression—more than just shyness. It was a quiet determination touched by a vulnerability that tugged at something deep inside him.

“Franco,” he introduced himself, his voice unexpectedly tender. There was a softness in his gaze, as though he could sense the silent courage it took for her to be there, facing the world anew.

“Y/N,” she replied, her voice steady, yet intimate, as if sharing a secret. She held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary, then looked away—not out of hesitation, but as if deciding how much of herself to lay bare.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Franco murmured, the warmth in his tone matching the gentle curve of his smile. He kept a respectful distance, aware that while she exuded strength, there was still a part of her that seemed fragile, as though testing the waters.

“Likewise,” Y/N responded softly, her hands settling at her sides. She resisted the impulse to fidget, letting the moment linger between them. The silence that followed felt almost deliberate, as if it was allowing something unspoken to take root. Franco found himself drawn to the quiet resilience she radiated—a kind of beauty that seemed to unfold with every second he spent in her presence.

y/n’s pov

After a while of simple yet engaging conversation, I found myself feeling more at ease. I shared how I had always been a fan of racing, my voice growing steadier as I spoke. “There’s something thrilling about watching it unfold on screen,” I said, trying to convey my excitement.

Alex leaned in, intrigued. “That’s great to hear! It’s always nice to meet fans who really appreciate the sport.” His enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

Franco nodded, a smile on his face. “It definitely takes a lot of dedication to get here. Every race pushes us to prove ourselves.” His sincerity made me feel even more connected to their world.

As the conversation shifted to their plans for the day, Alex described the strategies for securing points in the race, his passion evident. “It’s all about timing and reading the situation,” he explained, and I listened intently, occasionally asking questions to show my genuine interest.

I relished this moment, enjoying the chance to connect with them. For a brief time, the weight of my absence from the limelight felt lighter, and I was just another fan in the room.

Just as they began to delve deeper into the day’s logistics, James cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “Time to head back to the paddock area,” he announced. “The pre-race interviews are about to start.”

I felt a twinge of disappointment at the thought of leaving this conversation behind, but I nodded. “Good luck out there. I’ll be cheering for you both,” I said sincerely, glancing at both drivers, though my gaze lingered on Franco a beat longer, as if the words were meant just for him.

As I followed James toward the door, I glanced back over my shoulder, catching Franco’s eye one last time. I offered him a small, lingering smile, hoping to hold onto the quiet connection we had just begun to form, even as we braced ourselves for the chaos of race day.

F1GOSSIP just posted!

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F1GOSSIP oh? Is this just franco being his charming self or is something brewing? this is after franco got asked how meeting y/n was. If you have the full clip, please send it in!

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username2 me when y/n announces new music #imdelusional 

username9 no! y/n’s mineeee stay back 🤺🤺🤺

username1 my reaction when i see my leftovers still uneaten in the fridge 

username3 let’s not get carried away chat

username8 they’d lowkey be cute ,no?

username4 here goes mr rizzler

username5 we think y/n giggling at this or not even knowing that he’s basically down bad? 

As I gaze out the window of the paddock suite, my heart thrums with a mix of anticipation and anxiety, waiting for the drivers’ parade to conclude so the race can finally commence. The vibrant colors of the team uniforms blur together in a whirlwind of excitement outside, a stark contrast to the stillness within me. 

I’ve spent so long in hiding—wrapped in the suffocating embrace of identity crises, exhaustion, and a profound sense of disconnection from everything I once held dear. The weight of fame had become unbearable, each flash of a camera a reminder of the lack of privacy I craved. I’d watched as my personal relationships—family, friends—slipped through my fingers, one by one, until I was left with only echoes of laughter in empty rooms.

For the past several months, my life felt like an endless loop of anxiety and depression, a tangled web of emotions that left me feeling isolated and unrecognizable even to myself. The music that once flowed so freely from my soul now felt like a distant memory, a faint whisper drowned out by the noise of my insecurities.

I close my eyes, massaging my temples gently as I let the world around me fade into a soft murmur. The noise of the paddock, the distant roar of engines, and the chatter of eager fans all blend into a soothing backdrop as I focus inward. I think long and hard about what I truly want to do, contemplating the next steps I need to take to reclaim my sense of self and direction.

Images flash through my mind—memories of laughter, music, and the vibrant life I once lived, alongside the shadows of doubt and uncertainty that have lingered for far too long. I sift through these feelings, weighing the burden of expectations against the freedom of possibility. It’s not just about what others want for me; it’s about what I want for myself.

I draw in a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs as I clear my mind of the noise. Slowly, I allow the weight of indecision to lift, replaced by a flicker of clarity. I envision the goals I’ve set aside and the dreams that still ignite a spark within me. With each thought, I feel a renewed sense of determination taking shape.

Finally, I open my eyes again, and the world around me comes back into focus, sharper and more vibrant than before. There’s a newfound sense of purpose coursing through my veins, a conviction that I can chart my own course and embrace the unknown. I sit up a little straighter, feeling invigorated by the possibilities that lie ahead, ready to take the next step with confidence and resolve. With all that said and done, I picked up my phone with an idea in mind.

yourusername just posted!

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yourusername I’ve tried in so many ways to come back, but I always took a U-turn, doubting myself and slipping deeper into a place I never thought I’d find myself in. The past several months have been a struggle—a relentless cycle of exhaustion, anxiety, and moments of profound loneliness. The weight of the spotlight felt more like a shackle than a blessing, and I lost sight of who I am and what brings me joy.

I hope you guys miss me as much as I missed you. It’s hard to be away from the people and things I love, especially when music has been my lifeline. I spent so long in my own head, pushing away friends and family, that I forgot how vital connection is to my soul.

But here I am at a Formula 1 Grand Prix, surrounded by the roar of engines and the thrill of the upcoming race, feeling that spark igniting again. This moment is a powerful reminder of the joy that comes from pursuing what we love. I’m learning to embrace the chaos and take the first steps toward rebuilding my life, piece by piece.

So, this isn’t just a post; it’s a promise. I’m finding my way back to music, to the stage, and to myself. I can’t wait to share new songs with you, but more importantly, I want to reconnect with you all in ways that matter.

Stay tuned, because I’m not just coming back; I’m coming back stronger, and I have so much to share. 

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username1 the scream i just scrumpt and the race hasn’t even started yet!!!

username2 god answered my prayers and i’m not talking about lando world domination!

↳username10 lando we can be world champions i said!! 🧡

username3  lowk just got chills omg

username4 NEW MUSIC COMING ALERT!!!!

username5 it’s too early to be crying 😢

username6 WE MISSED YOU MORE!!

username7 you’re never alone y/n! i’m here 🤗

username8 lowk heartbreaking knowing the reason you left was due to struggles and not because you wanted to go on vacation or something ���

username9 my queen, im deeply glad to have you back with us 💕

williamsracing ay, i see the williams team! the team will always be here for you y/n, especially when you need motivation and support! 💙💙

↳username5 ok now im sobbing

↳username11 this is deadass too cute 

↳username2 who’s cutting onions?

I shut my phone off and tuck it into my purse, sealing away any connection to the world outside this moment. No more notifications, no more distractions—just me, here. I glance around the paddock, surrounded by a sea of busy engineers, media personnel, and team members, all bustling with excitement as the race is about to begin. The walls of the hospitality suite insulate me from the noise of the crowd outside, but I can still feel the thrum of energy reverberating through the glass.

I shift my focus to the grid on the screen in front of me, watching the drivers as they line up in their spots, engines purring in anticipation. Outside, the Texas sun beats down relentlessly on the Circuit of the Americas, casting long shadows on the track. I can feel the tension building, a nervous buzz in the air as the seconds tick down to lights out.

I take a deep breath, but it’s not because of the race about to unfold. No, this moment is about something much bigger. The relief that comes with turning off my phone is like a release—a tangible sense of freedom I haven’t felt in what seems like forever .And now, watching the cars settle into position, the drivers preparing for the challenge ahead, it feels symbolic—like I’m waiting for my own race to begin.

The engines rev louder, vibrating through the floor beneath me, and I exhale slowly. The lights above the starting line flash red, one by one. My heart pounds in time with the countdown, but this time, it’s not out of fear or anxiety. It’s out of anticipation. I’m ready. As the lights blink off and the cars roar forward, I feel it—this is the start of something new, not just for them, but for me too. My own restart, right here, right now.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

taglist : @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey

[rivatar]

His Stress Relief

MDNI!🔞 based off this request!

Pairing: Aged!Up!Neteyam x fem!human!reader

W/c: 1.9k

Warnings/content: SMUT, Dub-con, p in v, cream pie, dom Neteyam, sub reader, dirty talk, cussing

A/n: I hope the anon who requested this enjoys, I didn’t know how you wanted it to go so I hope it’s okay and you like it!😩 And I hope the rest of you lovelies can enjoy too. Keep sending me requests & I love you all 💖

“Don’t go too far out, y/n!” Max shouted as you were already out the door.

It had been a stressful day for you in the lab. You had arrived on Pandora not even a full month ago. Everything was new to you, including a lot of the science they had here. You had just gotten your PhD not long before leaving for this mission and it was all you dreamed of was to work here, but now that you’re here, you found that the work was quite challenging and you didn’t like feeling stupid or behind everyone else.

After getting yelled at by another coworker for doing something wrong again, you decided you needed a break to calm your mind. You told Max you were going to take a walk right outside the facility, it wasn’t really a question for him but more so telling him where you’d be. He was a bit concerned for you as you were still new here but he knew he couldn’t stop you, nor had the time to babysit you.

The door slammed behind you. You spotted a slightly beaten path that led into the forest and decided to walk along it so that you could find your way back later on. You weren’t planning to go far of course but your racing thoughts occupied you so much it had you completely distracted.

Unbeknownst to you, a particular Na’vi had already spotted you and was following you quietly while staying tucked behind the various trees and plants of the forest.

Neteyam was out clearing his mind as well, he was also stressed like you, but his stress was due to his endless duties preparing to be Olo’eyktan soon. He noticed you and instantly became intrigued with you and decided to follow you and see what you were up to. It was something to take his mind off of his responsibilities for once.

You noticed a particularly amazing plant and crouched down to it, smiling gently. Next thing you knew a huge arm wrapped around your front and brought you back into them, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs in the process.

“What the fuck?!” You yelled in terror. You looked down and realized the arm was blue and your soul almost left your body.

“Hi, tawtute,” the creature bent down to speak in your ear.

“Please let me go!! I’m sorry for being out here! Please I’ll go back!” You pleaded and played nice while struggling against his steady hold.

“Nah. I think I’d rather keep you,” he spoke lowly and unbothered.

Fear rushed through your body like a flaming hot fire and consumed all your senses. You wanted to cry at your predicament but you had to keep your wits about you if you were gonna make it out alive.

“P-please! I’ll do anything just please let me go, I won’t tell a soul!” You pleaded some more.

He chuckled and was amused with you. “Anything?”

Confusion etched across your face. “What?”

“You said you’d do anything”

He sounded… suggestive. Or were you just going insane??

“…yeah?”

“I think I’ve got something in mind for your payment. And a way to relieve my stress”

To say your heart was beating out of your chest was an understatement.

“What do you want from me?” You cried.

“You’re not stupid, girl. You know what I want” he spoke sensually as he ran his other hand down the front of your body to cup your pussy. You gasped at the sudden sensation.

He pressed his hard bulge against your butt. “You understand now?”

You weakly nodded, fear still evident in your eyes but you were not wanting to upset him in any way by disagreeing.

Without anymore time to process this, he yanked your pants down and pushed your back forward, making you abruptly fall to your knees with your ass in the air.

You were flushed and felt exposed and vulnerable but before you could think about those feelings anymore, he suddenly ran his tongue up through your slit. You gasped at the pleasure.

“Mmm I love how your little human pussy tastes,” he groaned “much sweeter than the omatikaya girls”

He continued lapping up your juices like a starved man and you had no choice but to take it. It felt extremely good though, your hole clenched, wanting and needing attention too.

“Fucking slut. You act like you don’t want this too but your body says otherwise,” he said while prodding his thumb around your entrance. You tried to push yourself back to get the penetration you craved.

He laughed at your pathetic action. “Awww the little human needs some action? You should be thanking me” he spanked your ass hard.

You whimpered out loud and knew you were indeed being pathetic. But dammit, you were stressed and pent up too.

“Pleaseeee” you begged him shamelessly.

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled mockingly.

You backed up more, wordlessly begging him to stop torturing you. So he granted your request and plunged an entire finger in, already brushing your cervix with his long digits.

“Mmm!! More!” You moaned for him.

He groaned at the feeling of your tight, gummy walls sucking him in perfectly.

“So warm and tight… fuck” he purred.

He then plunged another digit in, marveling at how you stretched for him. He roughly sped up, deciding he wanted to watch your pussy cum on his hand.

“Cum for me” he urged you while his other hand groped your ass.

You were whimpering and moaning on the ground, feeling the pleasure wash through your body as your incoming orgasm threatened to burst.

“Can feel you squeezing. Let it go, tawtute”

And just like that, as if his sultry tone and words were all you needed to reach your peak, you came all over his working fingers with your eyes rolling back in your head. It had to be the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

“Mmm, good job sevin” he praised your shaking form, still recovering from the after shocks.

He rolled your limp body over to where you could finally see his face. He was so handsome. Your fucked out face scanned over his toned, muscular body. Every curve and edge of him was perfectly carved by Eywa herself. His body was amazing but you couldn’t believe how stunning his face was. His bright yellow eyes held so much emotion and passion in them and you held his gaze, unable to look away.

He took this opportunity to untie his loincloth rather slowly. The skimpy item of clothing fell down to the ground and just when you thought he couldn’t get anymore visually stunning, he did. His cock was huge to you but fit his body proportions perfectly. It stood up loud and proud, the tip glistening with his shimmery precum.

“I take it you like it, huh?” He asked teasingly but also meant it.

You snapped your eyes back up to him and nodded slowly. Your brain was telling you to be scared but the rest of your body was screaming at you to indulge and enjoy.

He bent back down to your recovering body. His hands reached the bottom of your shirt and tugged up on it. To your own surprise, you submitted and lifted your arms to let him take off your shirt. You did the rest by then unclipping your bra.

He leaned back on his heels and his chest quickly rose and fell at the sight of you being completely naked. His face didn’t change though, he seemed to be trained to show no emotion, though his breath quickening and precum gathering at his tip gave away his arousal to you.

He got closer to you and leaned in for a brutal kiss. His large mouth completely engulfed yours and you tried to keep up with him.

He pulled back to look into your eyes and said, “I’m gonna fuck you. I’m gonna fuck you so good you’re gonna be coming back and begging for more after this”

He left you no time to object this and continued the kiss. Although at this point you were sure you wouldn’t argue with him. Your body was aching for attention and relief.

He effortlessly picked you up and set your back against the grass. “Spread open for me,” he tapped your thigh.

You did as you were told and gave him complete access. He couldn’t wait to feel your tight, wet pussy around him.

He held his dick and coated it in your juices, before angling to start pushing in.

“You are soaked, little human” he said admiringly.

You were also amazed at how aroused you were, you had to admit it had been a while but also none of your previous experiences have been this erotic. Nonetheless you blushed at him stating the obvious about your neediness.

He sunk deeper and deeper, you were both making little noises of discomfort and pleasure at the tight stretch.

“Never had a Na’vi cock huh? You’re in for a treat” he smiled a bit menacingly.

You chuckled nervously, still focusing on breathing and getting through the extreme stretch.

He bottomed out and you moaned as he brushed your cervix. “Is that the spot?”

“Mhmm” you whined.

“I know, I know. Hold on tight, my little tawtute slut”

He removed himself all the way out and slammed back in, his huge balls slapping your skin.

“Fuck” he grunted.

He continued his assault on your cunt, ruthlessly pounding into you like a feral animal, giving you no time to adjust fully.

His mouth was open and relaxed in an ‘o’ as he watched your pretty face screw up in pleasure, both of you taking in the feeling.

You held onto his bulky arms that were settled on either side of you as he hovered over you.

You eyes started welling up with tears from the overwhelming sensation. You were being stuffed to your fullest capacity.

He then bent down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, while his other hand pulled your other one. You screamed and arched your back off the ground.

“I can’t! It’s too much!!” You squealed and he only let up so he could speak to you.

“Thought you were begging for more earlier? You’ve gotta take it now, cmon just take it like the good slut I know you are”

He then started rubbing your clit, edging you on more. “You gonna cum again? Well I’m gonna cum deep in your pussy, I got a lot and it’ll be leaking out of you for days”

He sped up his thrusts. “Maybe when it leaks out of you, it can remind you of me and you can use it to touch yourself”

His lewd words made your coil snap yet again, and your pussy convulsed around his length.

“Good lil cockslut. Take my cum now” he grunted as his thrusts got irregular and his body locked up. His cum shot deep into you and you felt it get crowded in there with his dick still inside too.

He was panting and sweating above you, his eyes half lidded and looking delirious and spent.

You both suddenly heard a distant cry, like a Na’vi calling out as communication.

His ears went up and he pulled out quickly, both of you hissing at the loss. He scrambled to tie his loincloth back on. He leaned down to your face after you sat up.

“Next time you need some na’vi cock again, come to this spot and I will answer your calling” he winked and ran off with his bow in hand, leaving you naked and vulnerable. But… also satisfied.

Taglist: @bambithewriter @neteyamssyulang @professional-yapper @teyamshuman @nonamevenus

[mariclerc]

Hi girrrl, I liked the "mafia Charles" series I think it's so amazing!! I would like to know if you will do a third part where they meet the reader's father at an event or something like that.

Omg hiii, I love that people like it!! Here is your request!!

Falling for you (pt.3) | cl16

Summary: thanks to a debt owed by your father you have to marry the boss of the mafia.

Warning: angst, mafia au, mentions of blood and gunshots, swearing, 5 years age gap, mafia boss!Charles, murder.

Part 1, part 2, part 4

The casino is a glittering spectacle of lights and sound, you and Charles stand at the entrance, your eyes taking in the extravagant decor. You are back in Monaco because you were invited to an event, and obviously as a good couple, you had to attend even if it meant leaving the villa in Tuscany... Going back to Monaco wasn't the problem, the problem is that you fear seeing your father again since you feel a little more vulnerable due to the confession you made to Charles.

“Are you ready to face the crowds, amore?” he says while smiling. (love)

You smile nervously and nodded. “As ready as I'll ever be.”

He nods. “Okay, just let me know if you are uncomfortable or something like that, okay? So we can leave.” he says and you nodded.

As you enter the casino, you feel a surge of anxiety because of the not so pleasing memories of your childhood, spent in this very place with your father, are bittersweet... But Charles' warm hand on your lower back calms the storm of thoughts in your head a little.

As you make your way through the crowd, you catch a small glimpse of your father. He's standing at a jack black table, surrounded by a group of men and a chill runs down your spine, you hadn't seen him since days before your wedding with Charles.

“Charlie, there he is.” you whispered softly to him.

Charles follows your gaze, his expression hardening. “It's okay, tesoro. We'll just stay away from him.” he says gently. (darling)

You nod, but your heart is pounding on your chest, as you two try to navigate the crowd, your father catches sight of you and Charles and he approaches, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, well, well... Look who's finally decided to show their faces.” he says smugly. “The perfect couple!”

You tense up, feeling a surge of anger and disgust, Charles steps in front of you, protectively.

“Leave us alone, you old man.” he says coldly.

Your father laughs, a cruel, mocking sound. “Or what? Are you going to protect her? Really? This little bitch who thinks she's so above it all?” he says smugly.

Charles' face turns red with rage. “Don't you dare speak to her like that! She's a woman, and deserves respect! Just like everyone else.” he says roaring.

The crowd falls silent, watching the confrontation with a mixture of fascination and horror.

“Oh, But I will continue talking like this... She's a spoiled little brat who thinks she's too good for her own father... Such a little whore, looking for attention. Don't you think, Leclerc?”

A tear rolls down your cheek, but you refuse to let him see your pain. “That's... enough...” you say with a trembling and shy voice.

Your father laughs. “Enough? Oh, no, i'm just getting started little princess.”

He turns to Charles, his eyes filled with a cold, calculating hatred.

“So, you think you can steal my daughter away from me? Well, think again, because she's mine, and I'll do whatever I want with her.”

Charles' eyes narrow, his fists clenching, his face is a mask of fury. “That's fucking enough!”

He grabs your father by the collar, his grip is so tight that your father struggles, but Charles' hold is too strong.

“Let go of me you little maniac! Help!” says your father panicked.

A group of casino security guards rush over, trying to separate Charles and your father. Charles is seething with anger, his eyes filled with a dangerous glint.

“Sir, this is a casino. There will be no violence here.”

Charles lets go of your father, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Your father glares at you, his eyes filled with hatred.

“This isn't over, young lady! You and your little husband will pay for this.”

As your father is escorted out of the casino, you turn to Charles. He's still shaking with anger.

“Charles... Are you okay?” you ask him gently. “Did he hit you or something?” you asked again.

“I'm fine, bébé... Let's just get out of here, okay?” he says while gritting his teeth. (baby)

You and Charles leave the casino, the night air a welcome relief from the tension-filled atmosphere inside. As you walk away, you can hear your father's voice echoing behind you, shouting threats and insults.

“You heard what I said back there, Charles? You hear what I said about her? About your little slutty wife? She's mine. Mine!” he yells with anger in his voice.

Charles stops in his tracks, his fists clenched at his sides. He turns and faces your father, his eyes filled with a cold, calculating hatred.

“I'm warning you, old man... If you ever speak to her like that again or ever touch her, I'll rip your tongue out.” he roars.

Your father's face pales, but he doesn't back down. “Oh, is that so? Well, then I'll just have to find another way to get back at you.”

With that, your father turns and walks away, disappearing into the night. Charles stands there for a moment, his eyes filled with a dangerous glint. Then, he turns to you, his expression filled with concern.

“I know he didn't hurt you, but I can't help but wonder if you are you okay, tesoro?” he asked softly. (darling)

You shake your head, your voice trembling. “No, he didn't hurt me Charles. But… it was awful, I can't believe he would say such things about me... His words are... Macabre, how can he talk about me like that?”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, his warmth a comforting shield against the cold of your father's words.

“I know, chérie, I know. But don't let him get to you... He's just a pathetic old man.” he says soothingly and you lean into his chest, your eyes filling with tears. Charles strokes your hair, his touch gentle and tender. “I'll make him pay for what he said about you... I swear it.” he whispers. (honey)

***

Charles pulls up to the grand entrance of the mansion, the moonlight casting an eerie glow over the estate. You turn to him, worry etched on your face.

“Charles, please don’t do this.” you said with trembling voice.

Charles looks at you, his expression a mix of determination and concern. “I have to, amore. He can’t keep getting away with it.” (love)

You reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful... Please.” you say shyly and softly.

He nods as he brings your hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of it, his lips are so warm and soft.

“I promise, darling. Just stay inside and lock the doors, okay? I'll be back soon.”

You reluctantly step out of the car, watching as he drives away, a sense of dread washing over you.

You know that Charles is a man of his word, he has shown it to you on several occasions with actions and words, and you know perfectly that he is not going to stay quiet with this. He knows how much your father has hurt you, whether with his poisonous words or his macabre actions, you know that he is going to make him pay for everything he has done to you during your life.

Charles arrives back at the casino, his heart pounding with adrenaline, but he's not scared at all. He scans the parking lot, spotting your father leaning against a sleek black car, a smug look on his face.

“You're back for more, Leclerc? I thought I scared you off the first time.” your father says with a smirk on his face.

Charles strides forward, fists clenched at his sides.

“You think you can just walk around here and disrespect her? Make her feel uncomfortable? Because I don't think that's what makes you a real fucking father.” says Charles in a low, hoarse voice.

Your father chuckles darkly, unfazed by Charles' anger. “And what are you going to do? You’re just a mafia kid playing with fire, so immature.”

Charles steps closer to him, eyes blazing with fury.

“Oh... you have no idea who you’re dealing with... Not for nothing do they tell me le diable de monte carlo. Or do you want to be the first to know why they call me that?” says Charles in a low and very serious voice.

Suddenly, Charles throws a punch, connecting with your father’s jaw. The impact echoes in the still night air, your father stumbles back, surprised.

“You little punk! You are just as much of a maniac and a son of a bitch as she is.” your father says furiously. “You are made for each other! A match made in hell.”

He lunges at Charles, but he sidesteps and delivers another blow, this time to your father’s stomach. The older man doubles over, gasping for breath while Charles hits him with all the force of his being, his hands are now red and full of blood and some scratches on his knuckles thanks to your father's struggle.

Charles stands over your father, breathing heavily as he grabs him by the collar.

“You’ve tormented her for too long. And that shit ends tonight.” says Charles spitting out the words.

Your father sneers, wiping blood from his mouth. “You think you can take me down? You’re nothing without her!”

Charles' eyes narrow as he pulls out a gun from his jacket pocket—an unexpected move that sends chills down your father’s spine.

“Maybe I am nothing without her… but you made her life a fucking living hell, and I'm going to make you pay for every single time you hurt her.” he tenses his jaw. “You think she's a pawn in your fucking game? Because she's not, you screwed her up so much and I hope that's so damn clear to you.”

He raises the gun, steadying his aim at your father’s chest.

Your father pleads. “Wait! You don’t want to do this!”

Charles' grip tightens on the weapon as memories flash through his mind—your tears, your pain, when you told him about the times your father hurt you, the derogatory words he said to you back at the casino.

The atmosphere is thick with tension as Charles stares into your father’s eyes, searching for any hint of remorse or regret for his actions.

“You think you can just walk away from all the damage you’ve done?” Charles said in a deep voice.

Your father shakes his head, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’m your father-in-law! You can’t do this! We have a fucking deal!”

Charles scoffs, stepping closer.

“You lost the title of father-in-law and title of father the moment you laid your dirty, disgusting and fucking hands on her.” Charles said in a growl. “Besides, the agreement didn't prohibit me from killing you if I found out what you were doing to her and forced her to do, did it? Because I don't remember that shit.”

With a swift motion, Charles pulls the trigger. The sound of gunfire pierces the night air, echoing through the parking lot while he shoots several times. Your father’s eyes widen in shock as he collapses to the ground, blood pouring everywhere out of his head.

Charles stands over him, breathing heavily as silence envelops the scene. He takes a moment to absorb what he’s done—what he had to do.

He glances around, ensuring no one has witnessed the act before slipping the gun back into his jacket and walking away towards his car.

***

Back at the mansion, you sit on the edge of your shared bed, anxiety coursing through you as you wait for Charles to return. The clock ticks loudly in the silence, each second feeling like an eternity.

A sudden noise startles you—a car door slamming outside, you rush to the window, heart racing as you see Charles stepping out of his car.

You run to meet him outside, relief flooding over you as he approaches you.

“Charles! Is everything okay? Are you good?” you asked him a little bit panicked. “I... I was so worried.” you whispered.

He steps closer to you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You can feel that his suit is a little bit sticky from the blood spatter, and his hands with dried blood and scratches on his knuckles.

“It’s done, amore. You are finally safe, we are safe.” He says in a low, soft voice as he hugs you. (love)

You pull back slightly, searching his eyes for answers, although the answer was more than clear. “You did it, didn't you?”

Charles looks away momentarily, guilt flashing across his face before he meets your gaze again.

“I made him pay for everything he did to you, he deserved it.”

Your eyes fill with tears, but none of them are of sadness, not at all, they are tears of relief perhaps.

You sit together on the couch, silence hanging heavily between you. Finally, you break it.

You speak in a low, soft voice. “And how do you feel? Are you okay?”

Charles exhales deeply, running a hand through his messy hair. “To be honest with you, honey... I feel... Satisfied in a way, I mean, he deserved it.” he says in a soft voice.

You nodded. “I know love... Thank you.” you say shyly, he smiled and kissed your cheek.

“It was nothing, my love... For you I would do it as many times as you want and need.” he whispered.

You look at him, his impeccable black suit is dirty with drops of blood, as are his hands which have some scratches, his hair is disheveled and his face is sweaty for the exhausting work he did... But, even after committing a murder, he looks so handsome and so good.

You get up from the couch. “Come on, let's go up to heal those ugly wounds on your hands, okay?” you say in a soft voice and he nods as he takes your hand.

You guide him to the room where you look for the first aid kit and get what you need to treat his wounds, some alcohol, cotton and an antibiotic ointment. You sit on the bed next to him and he extends his hands to you and you can see the dried blood and scratches your father made as an act of defense.

“Okay, this is going to hurt a little bit.” you say as you put some alcohol on a cotton ball and rub it over his knuckles, to which he reacts by closing his eyes and sighing. “You know? For having killed someone a couple of hours ago, you're such a baby for something so normal like this.”

He lets out a little laugh. “Yeah, I'm sorry babe.”

You shake your head. “Don't be sorry, I already told you. Thank you for doing it... I had never thought that someone was going to attack my father or kill him, I always thought that I would stay with him all my life doing whatever he wanted until the end of my days.” you say in a whisper as you continue to heal his knuckles.

“I told you it was nothing, mio cuore. I repeat, if I had to do it again, I would do it without hesitation.” he says while looking into your eyes. (my heart)

After finishing treating his wounds, he takes off his black suit and white button-down shirt and throws it into the laundry basket. Showing off his somewhat muscular and defined torso.

He watches you struggle with your dress. “Oh, let me help you with that, mon chéri.” he says in a whisper as you nod and then proceed to unzip your dress. (my darling)

When he finished, you turn around and look at him shyly, he approaches you and cups your cheeks with his now clean hands and then gives you a kiss on the lips, it's a pretty slow, gentle kiss, but soft enough so that you don't feel the need to use words right in the moment. Perhaps the night took a totally unexpected turn, but it was still inevitable that something like what happened at the casino was going to happen sooner or later.

In that moment of vulnerability, you realize that while darkness has enveloped both of you tonight, there is also an undeniable bond that has formed—a bond forged in love and protection.

[h4untedgrl]

she'll chew you up | p.sh

—♱ genre/au: college au, non-idol au, one shot, sub!hwa x dom!fem reader, maneater! reader, ateez is a fraternity

—♱ warnings: drinking alcohol (drink responsibly!!), partying, face sitting, impact play, drunk sex, cowgirl, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), degradation (whore, slut), praise (good boy, baby, my love), slight dacryphilia, titty sucking, breathe play (please do this safely!), hair pulling

—♱ word count: 1.4k

Men are easy creatures... just a quick glance at them and they were putty in your hands. Playing with a man's mind was your thing.

Park Seonghwa just so happened to be your next victim.

Ateez was known for throwing parties and these parties were huge. Everyone wanted to experience an Ateez party at least once during campus life.

You arrived at the Ateez dorm, knocking before Mingi opens the door. "Yooo, you made it! we've been waitin' for your fine ass" He shows you a smile. "Oh I bet you guys have been" You smile back at him as you walk into the dorm.

You take a look around the dorm looking for the bar. Finally spotting it, you start walking to pour yourself a drink. Taking a red solo cup filling it up with Malibu and pineapple juice. "You look beautiful tonight ___" a soft voice says, you look up to see Seonghwa eyeing you. "Why thank you Hwa, don't look to bad yourself." Red paints his cheeks at receiving a compliment from you.

You take a sip from your cup and lick your lips, making eye contact with him. "Don't look at me like that ___" Seonghwa's voice shaking. Aw he's so nervous. "Look at you like what hm?" Shooting another smile at him before you study his frame. So slender yet defined. "Fuck... I'll be over, you know near Joong"

You keep watching him as he walks over to Hongjoong, watching him say something to Seonghwa. "Bro she'll chew you up, did you not see how she was fuckin' looking at you?" He looks at Joong, slightly confused, "I honestly might let her do it, just look at her bro." All Hongjoong could do is laugh at Seonghwa. He's already heard the stories of how you can make the most dominant man a sub, and he definitely doesn't doubt you capabilities to do so.

The night proceeds, Seonghwa just can't help but admire you as you dance. Thinking about all the profound things he can do to you. Finally, Seonghwa builds up the courage to speak to you again. "Hey ___... do you think I can pull you to the side..?" He said quite softly with a slight slur to his words. "Yeah baby what's up?" You tilt your head as you look into his soft eyes. He swiftly grabs your wrist bringing you to his room closing the door behind him.

"I need you so bad ___" He whines out as he holds your hands. "What makes you think that baby, hm?" You say sending him another smirk. "You're just so fuckin' sexy... fuck I already told you stop looking at me like that" He runs his fingers through his hair trying to calm himself down. You grab his hand and lead him to his bed "Lay down for me." He quickly complies taking off his shoes as he gets onto his bed.

"You're gonna' make me feel good okay?" You say as you get onto the bed pulling up your dress and pulling your panties to the side. As you inch closer to his face you hear him moan out in anticipation. "Haven't even touch you yet and you're moaning. Are you a whore or something?" He quickly shakes his head, you can't help but laugh at him. "I think you are." Before he could even process your sweet pussy was placed onto his mouth.

He started to part you, licking over your nub placing his hands on your thighs "Don't touch me." Listening to your commands he puts his hands to his side. Moans escape your lips, feeding Hwa's fire. He picks up the pace of his tongue, his stomach starting to stir. "Keep going baby m' gonna cum." The vibration of his whines send you over the edge "Oh, fuck!" Your thighs quiver around his face, riding out your high before getting off his face.

"Please ___ lemme' fuck you" His voice shaky, and you can't help but notice his hard cock in his jeans. "You have to be patient my love." You say as you run your thumb on his pink lips. Oh how he hated being patient, he was usually the one calling the shots but there's just something different about you. You tap your thumb on his lower lip, "Stick your tongue out" He pouts before listening to your command, sticking out his pretty tongue. Taking your index and middle finger to it, "Suck on em' for me baby, be a good boy" His pretty lips wrap around fingers sucking on them before he lets out another moan.

"Take off your pants for me." You whisper into his ear, his eyes light up in excitement. He quickly sits up removing his pants and throwing them to the side. "Please ___.... I don't know how much longer I can wait." He pouts as he tries touching you again. "I already told you don't touch me" He panics at your stern voice, "I'm sorry ___, won't do it again I promise." You pull at the waistband of his boxers watching as his cock springs out, his tip coated with precum. "All I did was sit on your face and you're already this hard? I knew you were a whore." You laugh at him, as you start to fuck him with your fist.

He gasped at the thrust, "Oh my god, fuck!" His hips bucking up with the movement causing you to laugh at him again. "You're so eager baby" Hwa's thighs start to tremble "I jus' wan you so bad, need to feel you around me" You watch as more precum leaks from his pink tip circling your thumb around it, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Please, I'll be a good boy for you ___" His sweet begs send an ache to your core, "That's what I like that hear my love" You staddle yourself above his cock aligning it with you folds. Lowering yourself down on his dick. "Fuck you're so tight I don't know if I can last" He whimpers as he starts to suckle on his lower lip. "You better fuckin' last" Grabbing his face to make him look at you "I'll try but I can't promi-" You slap his slap his face "I'll get off right now, gotta' make me cum again" Hwa just nods his head letting out another whimper.

Once you adjust to his size you finally start to move, unholy sounds slip out of Seonghwa's mouth "Fuck- You're so wet" You pick up the pace chasing after your high. "You're such a good slut, feel' so good" You moan out "Wan' to you touch, can I touch you please?" Seonghwa pleads his eyes rolling back. "Go ahead baby, you can touch me now" His hands quickly move onto your waist, giving it a tight squeeze before moving them up to your chest. "Can I suck on em' please" He whines out as you give nod and pull down the top of your dress.

Seonghwa suckles on your nipple giving them a small bite, "So pretty, love em' in my mouth" Your right hand reaches his throat, your thumb and middle finger pressing down. Hwa's breath stifles, that lack of oxygen to his brain sends him into a frenzy "I-I'm gonna' cum, can I cum please?" You release your grip around his throat as you stop all movement, "Not yet baby, need you to last a little longer." A tear rolls down his cheek as he bites his lip again before apologizing "I'm sorry, I'll last for you I promise jus' feel so good." You lean in to give him a small peck as you wipe away his tears, "Poor baby, did I make you cry? Did I get your hopes up? You're jus' so needy." a giggle escapes your lips.

His cock twitches in you, "Fuck- you're such a slut, I feel you twitching in me baby" You start moving once again, and another tear rolls down Hwa's cheek. "You're so tight ___, oh my god" He latches back onto your left breast. "Fuck- baby I'm gonna cum, you're such a good boy" You tug at his shiny black hair, another loud moan escapes from him.

Your pussy clenching around his cock almost sucking him as you ride out your high. "Fuck-" Lifting yourself off of him, placing a kiss on his forehead. "Wait- where are you going..?" He questions as he watched you adjust your dress. "We can finish this later baby, goodnight Hwa." You smile at him one last time before closing the door behind you.

This definitely wont be the last time you see him.

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[p4r4syte]

its boiling hot rn so heres some lost boy hcs. what i think theyd do/be like in summer (mildly suggestive?)

pls add comments, ill add to it :3

David :

•avoids everyone. i know vampires are cold blooded but no doubt these mfs get agitated during summer. David the worst. he’d be sat there, coat discarded with a pissed off expression. still smoking. god forbid he doesnt smoke

•will even get pissed off with Feeding Time™️ because the bloods warm so he’d just disappear for days on end. hiding away. basically hibernating

•Is Extremely Snappy. he will go for anyones throat, doesnt even matter if youre together (god forbid mates), he’ll be avoiding you just in case but will Bark at the boys given any chance

•”he wouldnt hurt a fly” HE WOULD!!!!!! Fuck That Fly Do Not Invade My Personal Space

•will only calm down once hes cooler, he would genuinely have to piss off to the sea (or i imagine the cave has a watered in area) ((only dwayne knows about it but he let david in on it)) or hes sulking in a damp, desolate part of the cave. just waiting for the summer to end

•only one of the boys that can speak to david during this time is dwayne because of how hes empathetic towards his Boys. Marko And Paul Will Be DropKicked On Sight.

•sleeps upside down, near the darkest most secluded park of the cave. there isnt any air, theres no breeze. he doesnt care, he just wants to, fester. Leave Him To Fester

Marko :

•becomes more feral than he ordinarily is

•he Will be dangling from the ceiling, trying to catch any breeze that rolls in

•he will also be chilling with the pigeons, they find the coolest places in the cave to rest so Why Not?

•the summer heat will also be giving him unneeded energy. he WILL be playfighting with paul and then laying there overheating and gets pissed off once paul tried to interact with him again. Cant You See Im Warm? Jesus.

•will find endless cool drinks on the boardwalk once it cools down during night. itll give him no sustenance and he’ll be pissed off that he has a headache tomorrow but. Mmm Slushie :3

•still eats hot food and will complain about how hes warmer now than before he ate the food. yes he knew beforehand. no he wont stop. let him complain

•him and paul sit shirtless in the centre part of the cave, eating ice creams and then getting pissed off once theyve eaten them all (or theyve melted)

•calmer than david, less irritated than dwayne, less energetic than paul

•sleeps in a random, small part of the cave because the air rushes straight through (he followed the pigeons)(he learns many things from them, this is one of the many great things he found out)

Paul :

•please calm down. its Hot. Get The Memo

•continues his antics, just with, less clothes.

•the ONLY motherfucker thats actively trying to interact with everyone else

•he doesnt get it, god bless. not a single thought in that head x

•is also smoking. sat on that fountain (the cold marble against his back), trying to yell to the others (they ignore him) speaker blasting music (its pissing everyone off)

•the only one that actually leaves the cave (until he convinces marko to get slushes with him. then hes no longer going alone)

•a nuisance. a pure fucking mosquito of a man. he’d be stuck to you if he could, please don’t let him you dont know where hes been (various ponds) (hes upside down in a shrub) (dont help him)

•hes a boombox blaster, weedsmoking, white rum drinker in summer. or whatever he can get his hands on. but best believe he’s living it up even if he doesnt make it out the cave most nights

•sleeps drunk in the fountain, naked. Hey, Its Cool. What Do You Want From Me?

Dwayne :

•is the only one who Actually attempts to cater to the rest

•he knows exactly how everyone is and as much as he Needs To Rot too, he needs to check on everyone first

•only person hes really checking on is david lets be honest

•after finding david and just, checking, he’ll find his own section of the cave. not too far, within ear distance of Everyone in the cave

•he’ll just rest there for a while, just dangling, all sweaty

•sometimes he has enough energy to chill with paul and marko but quickly loses it after a while. paul is Way too much for him in this heat. Hes Markos Issue Now :)

•he is the only one that will remind the other boys that they need to eat. it may be hot, but you still need to eat. cue moody david, hyper paul, sweaty and overstimulated marko and coping mother dwayne

•doesnt speak to anyone, literally not at all, because hes just Too Hot™️ so he’ll just pull your hand to what he wants, guiding you to what he needs

•sleeps alone, in the centre on the cave. just above where they all gather, so he can hear everyone but is just far enough away to get peace. oh, hes also naked.