#i totally looked ahead and saw this. i swear

[pagesfromthevoid]

So High School | r. r.

Robert "Bob" Reybnolds x Thunderbolts!reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Mentions of sex. Walker being an asshole. Heavy making out and hickeys. General discussion of Bob's mental health

Author's Note: The horny thoughts got turned into feelings because of therapy but alas

Bob Masterlist | Talk to Me! | AO3

It started as a joke.

Sort of.

None of it was technically a lie after the initial lie. 

It was more of a “get off my back” kind of situation but then it became a “let’s fuck with Walker” kind of deal because he wouldn’t drop it. And his reaction was…hilarious, honestly. Especially because Yelena and Ava immediately played along, no questions asked.

“How did you not notice?” Yelena asked, giving Walker a look that suggested he was an idiot. “The moment she saw him in the vault, she had heart eyes for him.”

“It was not the moment I saw him,” she argued back, pointing at the blonde. “It was like…ten minutes later, when he called Walker an asshole and laughed. Then it was definitely a ‘oh, okay. Hear me out,’ kind of moment.”

“Okay, fair,” Ava conceded, nodding. “Though, I think it stopped being a ‘hear me out’ bit pretty soon after.”

“Oh, immediately after,” she agreed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know when it was?”

“I swear to God,” Yelena groaned, knowing absolutely what she was about to say. “It was when he was shot, wasn’t it?”

“Oh my god,” she practically moaned, covering her face with her hands. “Listen. I felt so bad. You don’t get it. This poor boy has been shot and he’s not dying and I’m sure he was scared as hell. But did you see him? Those abs? That look he gave those agents? Fuck me, dude. It’s not a ‘hear me out.’ It’s a ‘hold me back.’”

Walker, at that point, was flabbergasted. Yelena and Ava being privy to the whole thing was enough for him to believe it, but he was so confused. Her? And Bob? Of all people? Of all of them on the team?

Bob??

“Then why aren’t you with him now?” He asked, like he thought he could catch her in a lie.

“He’s asleep?” She pointed out, giving him a ‘duh’ kind of look. “He doesn’t sleep a lot. You think I’m going to go wake him up just because I’m horny?”

She paused. Considered what would happen if John were to go ask Bob himself about their “relationship.” Then she decided that she should probably loop Bob in on it –or at least make sure he was okay with fucking with Walker.

“Actually, you know what. That’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

And that’s how she ends up in Bob’s room, sitting criss-crossed on the end of his bed, and him sitting mirror opposite of her, confused. 

“So you…told Walker that we’re dating…as a joke?” He asks, and she can’t tell if he’s upset by the whole thing.

“Yes. And I would super appreciate it if you played along because for some reason, he’s really confused by it and I really, truly find it funny. But it’s also totally okay if you don’t want to go along with it, and we can shut it down right now. I really –it’s not something you need to go along with at all.”

“I don’t…I don’t really understand, but I like the idea of messing with Walker so I guess I’m in,” he decides, grinning that boyish grin of his. The room relaxes significantly as she lets out a relieved breath. “So uh, what…what do we need to do to make it believable?”

She did not think this far ahead, honestly. She’s kind of surprised he agreed to play along, honestly. “I mean…I don’t know. He is under the impression I came in here to wake you up for, uh,” she pauses, feeling herself flush as she considers how to phrase it. “I told him I was going to wake you up because I was horny, so there’s that.”

Bob sits there for a second, and she briefly wonders if he’s okay. He kind of looks like he’s short circuiting; eyes blank for a moment as he stares at her. Then he drops one of his legs to the floor, sitting half on the bed. “I could give you a hickey.”

She sputters, completely thrown off by the suggestion. She opens her mouth once, then shuts it. Then opens it again and manages to say, “You –what?”

“I mean, I’ve never given one before. But that would be believable, right?”

She’s sort of stuck on the fact that he’s never given a hickey before and now she really wants to get one and give one. How high school –hickeys. Her mom always said they were gross but the idea of Bob putting his mouth anywhere on her is…enticing as hell. 

So she nods. That’s all she does, because she truly has no idea what she’s gotten herself into.

Bob’s going to give her a hickey, and she’s kind of…very excited about that.

“Okay, yeah. That’s…that’s definitely a good start,” she finally says, confirming the first step in a very stupid plan. 

But he doesn’t move, and she doesn’t either. Because suddenly this is not actually a joke to either of them it feels like. On the contrary, Bob looks like he’s about to have a panic attack.

“Actually, I just…Why was I…I just –I’m curious –,” he starts, stuttering his way through what he’s trying to say. He’s leaning forward some, and she can see the workings of his mind in his eyes. The tug of his brows as he’s thinking about something that’s going to cause him heartache of some kind. And she knows what it is. She just…she knows.

“I swear, I did it because he wouldn’t leave me alone about who I would date on the team. He really wanted me to say him, and I really would rather give myself a lobotomy than even consider dating him.”

“But that…I mean, that doesn’t explain…,” he points to himself, sort of tugging at his sweater. “Why was I the first person that came to mind?” He asks, shifting uncomfortably. She worries now that she’s hurt him with this whole thing.

“Well I –,” she pauses, and considers what she’s about to say. 

She could tell him the truth –after all, everything that followed the “Dude, I’m dating Bob. Where have you been?” comment was…well, it was true. She had absolutely thought he was cute in the vault. And she absolutely gawked when he was shot –not only because he was shot and alive and also flying but because of the abs and how he looked in that moment –confused, but confident. Alarmed, but ready to fight. But that is wholly embarrassing for her. The longer she sits there and considers it, however, the more he probably thinks she’s an asshole. 

So she confesses, and her face is burning because she really didn’t think she would be confessing any sort of crush on Bob tonight. “Because…It made sense,” she tries to explain. But that sounds stupid so she backtracks some. “Listen…It makes sense because I would totally date you. In a heartbeat. If you were…in a place to do that. But I don’t expect you to feel the same or even want to do that.”

He looks even more confused now. But his cheeks are blooming with blush, and it’s spreading down his neck and just below his collar. And she’s now distracted, thinking that if she could see his chest, the blush would be spreading there too. And now she’s thinking about him shirtless, which is absolutely not the thing to do.

“Oh,” he says. Though that’s all he says as he shifts in the bed, moving to plant his feet on the floor. His hands are gripping the side of the mattress tight enough that his knuckles are turning white.

“I’m sorry, Bob,” she says, looking down at her hands. Trying to will her own blush away because now she’s humiliated and she’s an asshole. “I really wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable –I’ll go tell Walker I was lying. Seriously, it’s not –,”

“Why don’t we actually date then?” He interrupts, looking up at her.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated just because I told you I would,” she quickly counters, snapping her attention to him. “Just because I like you doesn’t mean I’ll stop being your friend if you don’t want to date me. God forbid, that would be horrible of me.”

“I don’t feel obligated,” he argues, taking a beat to calm himself down. His hands relax and the color returns to his knuckles. “I know I’m not…the best,” he says, and she’s about to argue but he continues before she can. “But I…I do really like you. And I’d…I’d like to try to take you out on a date. Probably have to take things slow or something, but if that’s okay with you…”

“‘Or something’ being giving me a hickey to freak out Walker?” She jokes, trying to ease the tension in the room.

He laughs. Actually laughs; not one of his uncomfortable ones. But a real laugh that’s soft and sweet and she can’t help but laugh as well when he nods. “Yeah, yeah…we can fast forward a little to that part, if you want.”

“Do you want to do that?”

He hesitates, and she’s about to tell him it's totally okay if he doesn’t want to. But he nods finally. “Yeah. Yeah, I do, actually. But uh,” he stops, and there’s this look on his face that suggests that he’s really considering his next question. At this point, he could ask her just about anything and she’d probably say yes, though. “Can we…maybe not fast forward through the making out part before the hickey?”

“Oh my god, you’re going to be the death of me,” she laughs, moving across the bed on her hands and knees towards him.

“I hope not,” he says, and he sounds genuinely concerned as she sits beside him.

She reaches up and brushes a lock of hair out of his face. “Metaphorically speaking,” she reassures. 

She doesn’t know what to do next, honestly. Not because she doesn’t have any experience, but because she feels nervous for the first time in years over a guy. Which is ridiculous, but at the same time…it’s a good feeling to have.

“Can I…can I kiss you, now?” He asks, but his voice is soft. Trembling. Like he’s afraid she’s going to suddenly change her mind and leave him there, embarrassed. 

“I’d really like that, yeah.”

He’s still timid –a little awkward, a little shaky –but he leans in closer, and she meets him in the middle. Their noses brush just slightly before the space between them is closed. It’s slow at first; testing the waters to make sure they both know what they’re doing. Truly, as high school as they could get without actually being in high school. But she presses forward slightly, resting one hand on his knee and the other hand on his chest. He mimics the motion, sort of, and one of his hands cups the back of neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. His other covers the hand resting on his knee, interlocking their fingers.

It’s her who pulls them backwards onto the bed, their legs still dangling off the side. Their entwined hands are up by her head now and the hand on his chest is grasping at the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer as she swipes her tongue across his bottom lip. Bob is half laying on her, the hand in her hair untangling itself to gently run down her ribcage through her shirt. She hums in response, and he tenses some but doesn’t stop. Instead, he pulls away from her mouth, and she sighs as his lips press against her jaw. 

The movement is just as awkward at first, but he finds a rhythm as he presses a kiss just below her ear then trails them down her throat. His stubble –barely there, but there enough to tickle –brushes her skin and she sighs in content as she loosens the grip on his shirt and tangles her fingers in his hair. Guiding him, carefully, kindly, to the spot on her throat that she wants to feel him mark. The pulse point that drums her heartbeat for this very moment. 

He hesitates again, and this time she’s pretty sure it’s because he actually doesn’t know how to give a hickey. So she forces herself to let go of his hair and taps just below his jaw to get his attention. When he pulls away, his cheeks are bright red and flushed, but he’s got a soft smile on his face. 

“Let me show you,” she offers, and he nods, letting her take the lead if only for a lesson. 

She pushes him onto his back and takes the same position he had been over her. One hand on his rib cage, deftly moving to run her fingers over his abs as she presses a soft kiss to his lips one more time. He tries to pull her back, but she nudges his cheek with her nose, pressing a light kiss there before trailing down his jaw and below his ear –mimicking the movements he had gotten correct. Then, she grazes just at his pulse –presses her tongue against his heartbeat, which spikes the moment her teeth touch his skin –not a bite. Just a little graze. Then she sucks and the sound that comes from his lips is soft but an obvious moan. 

When she pulls away, she admires the handiwork with a soft grin and a quick kiss to his jaw one more time. Then she’s looking down at him, hovering just high enough to see the glossy eyed smile on his face. She misses it, but his eyes shift some –gold flickering through as he returns to the original position and repeats the motions one more time. His mouth on hers in a soft but firm kiss. Then quick, soft kisses along her jaw and down her throat –on the opposite side now of where she left his. He follows her steps to the tee, like a lesson he wants to have perfected, and grazes his teeth along her pulse. When it quickens under his tongue, he hums in excitement, unable to help himself as he marks her as his.

He gets a little carried away, enjoying how she squirms under him as he presses kisses and soft bites to her neck. One hickey isn’t enough, and he leaves several before she’s littered in little bruises all over her throat. He’s about to push it a bit further, confident in his movements for the first in…ever, really, when the glass on his table suddenly explodes.

They yank apart, and she’s got a hand over her heart like she’s panicked. He’s staring at the puddle of water and glass that’s littering his nightstand, his eyes wide. She sees it before he does it –sees him pull away, shrink back behind the wall he’s put up to protect himself and anyone he thinks is in danger because of him. Behind the wall he thinks protects her from him.

“Bob,” she whispers, reaching up to try to get him to look at her, but he fights her, refusing to take his eyes from the splinters of glass. “Hey, it’s okay –we got a little carried away. It happens.”

He shakes his head though, and reaches up to wipe his eyes. It’s then that she realizes he’s started crying, and her heart breaks. She pulls her hands away and shifts, sitting up on her knees and wraps her arms around him from behind. Holds him close, and presses her cheek into his hair as she does so. His hands clutch at her arms, holding onto her like she’s the only thing tethering him to this world and the shadows. 

“It’s okay,” she promises. And she does mean that. It is okay. It will be, at least. “It’s okay –think of it this way –you broke a glass instead of a person, and that means you know how to direct it towards non-living things.” She’s not sure that’s actually reassuring, but she thinks it is, personally. There are worse things to have broken over a glass of water. 

“It could have been you,” he argues, voice shaking as he tries to calm down the tears. 

“But it wasn’t,” she reminds him, pulling him closer against her. “It wasn’t, and we don’t focus on the ‘what if’s’ because it’ll just make things worse. You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t hurt yourself. I would say that that’s a key marker of progress.”

He turns some, finally looking up at her with watery eyes. She pulls the sleeve of her shirt down and wipes the tears from his cheeks, smiling at him softly. Slowly, he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close, resting his cheek against her chest. She hugs him back just as tight, pressing a kiss into his hair. 

They sit there for a little while like this. Holding onto each other for dear life; grounding each other in the space they were sharing for the moment. Then Bob sniffles and pulls away, running his hands over his face. 

“It’s okay,” he repeats, though she’s certain he’s reassuring himself and not her. “I’m sorry I ruined –,”

“You didn’t ruin shit,” she interrupts, pointing at him in a scolding sort of way. But she’s smirking lightly. “You gave me a hickey. Everything else was just…a bonus.”

“I think I gave you more than one,” he points out, then gently pokes each mark on her throat and counts them. “Seven.”

“I suppose I owe you six more, some time then.”

*****

“Wait,” Walker says, slamming his hands on the table. Bob flinches, and she touches his leg gently under the table. “I just…I truly cannot believe this.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she says, and Bob takes her hand in his. His attention is focused on the paper in front of him and the spirals he’s drawing. “I told you we were dating.”

Ava and Yelena are both still playing along, though they’re equally as confused. Not by the fact that she and Bob are a thing –but by the fact that they hadn’t actually picked up on it themselves. 

“I just –listen. I gotta know,” Walker starts and she’s so certain he’s about to say something stupid. “Isn’t…it’s gotta be weird just saying ‘Bob’ over and over when you’re bed. Like, c’mon. Do you say ‘Robert’? Or ‘Bobby’? Or is it just…literally ‘Bob’? Because honestly, that’s…weird to consider.”

She’s about to argue that it’s weird he’s even thinking about them having sex (which, not that it’s any of his business, but they hadn’t). But Bob speaks up first. 

“Her mouth is a little too preoccupied to say anything,” he says, though he’s definitely saying that more to himself than to anyone else. 

She chokes, covering her mouth. Everyone else is just…staring at him. He realizes a second too late that he said the inside thought outside. Then he flushes and tries to backtrack.

“I’m sorry, that’s not –I mean –,”

“Bob, you dog!” Alexei cackles, putting a hand on Bob’s shoulder and shaking it some. “Good for you!”

---

Bob Taglist: @ilovemarvel12 @withahappyrefrain (I'm tagging you specifically because you asked me to share with the class and ily)

[canigetahuuuuu]

Hey dude, I wanted to talk to you. I was changing by you in the locker room, and I couldn't help but notice, uh well, that you're trans. I swear, I wasn't trying to be a creep! But listen, I just want to let you know I support you. No matter what anybody used to think, you're obviously a dude now. But hey, if it's not too weird, I was wondering if, like, you have a dick or not? I saw you have those scars on your chest, and I was just curious. You know, it's cool if you don't. I just, I can't picture what it would be like, a dude. You know, it's all good, but hey, if it's not too much to ask, would you mind showing me? I want to be supportive and learn more about you. Hey, I'll show you mine if you show me yours. I'll go first. It's not that big, but I wouldn't call it small, either. I bet yours is awesome, dude. Just pull down your boxers for a sec. I just want a quick peek. Oh wow, you have a mini dick. It's got a head and everything. And it looks so soft. Can I touch it? I just want to feel it. Damn dude, it twitched when I put my finger on it. No, dude, don't apologize, that's totally normal. You want to see mine? Go ahead. Touch it. See? One little touch, and it's moving around like crazy and getting stiffer. Hey look, yours is getting kinda stiff. You're getting hard, too! That's cool. Yours looks wet, too! Mine gets wet a little before I cum. It tastes kinda salty and bitter. But you definitely smell different than how mine usually smells. Can I get closer? I'm just curious. I want to know the difference between your dick and mine. Mmmmm. You smell nice. Can I lick? Just one small one? Just to compare us, that's all. Ok, here we go. Holy shit bro, you taste good. So much better than mine, for sure. Want to try mine? It's starting to get a little wet, like yours. You can see the clear liquid on the tip. Get your mouth on there. You've gotta get the whole experience. It's only right, since you let me get my mouth all on you. Oh wow, man. Your mouth is so warm. Damn, I wouldn't mind if you keep going. Honestly, you should. You'll get a chance to taste my cum. And then after that, I want to try you again. Your dick looks even harder and wetter than before. And hey, I definitely owe you. You're sucking mine, so it's only fair that I return the favor. I'm your bro now. That's what friends are for.

[f1fantasys]

uhm so i have an idea where Lando is working out alone to release his emotions, perhaps after a bad day or bad race. but suddenly, you enter the gym, which annoys him because he wanted to be alone right now.

however, as you start working out, he kinda ogling your 🍒 and eventually decides to approach you to talk and that led to the spicy part when he starts touching you and fucked you on one of the bench using you to let out his anger 🫣 tysm!!!

THIS!! I don't feel like I've done this INCREDIBLE request justice. So someone please write a better one and tag me in it! @ccsainzleclerc5516 you would do amazing at this!

POST RACE WORKOUT

Warnings - smut!! need i say more?

2.4 words. IDK why it's so short - feel like i have writers block.

The Monaco weekend was always a fun one. Fun, but extremely busy, especially being a Sky presenter. From the Monday leading up to the weekend you'd been in and out of meetings, events, and not to mention recording and being live on air for several hours a day. But you loved it, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

But now that the race and post-race shows were finally over, you still had a lot of adrenaline and energy to burn, which is why you currently found yourself walking up the stairs to the gym, wearing the tightest tights and a sports bra. It was well past midnight, but, having connections had its perks, so here you were.

You pushed open the door and stopped in your tracks. There was some distant music playing and as your eyes scanned the room you definitely weren't expecting to find Lando Norris who was currently lifting weights, shirtless, might I add. He stopped what he was doing and stood up, eyes shamelessly searching your body, but an annoyed look on his face.

''Uh, hey'' you greeted.

All he did was nod his head.

''You good?'' you couldn't help but ask at the way he was looking at you. You felt you own cheeks heat up as you gawked at his body that was riled with sweat.

''Yeah'' was all he said as he turned around and continued what he was doing.

You of course have had a lot of interaction with Lando - several interviews and social media videos which meant you'd spent quite a lot of time with him. Obviously, he was one hell of hot man, and yes, you looked, but you'd never touch. Your work was too important to get involved with any of the drivers. You'd also noticed him looking more often than not, but you never allowed your mind to go there.

As you stood there for a few minutes you couldn't help but feel bad for the guy. He'd had a shitty race - mclaren had fucked his strategy, once again, and he didn't get the win. So you totally understood why he was in the gym at the time - also trying to get rid of the adrenaline.

You dragged your feet to the treadmill and hopped on, setting a medium pace, trying to focus on something else and not the half naked man across the room.

After about 15 minutes you slowed your pace down a bit, grabbing your towel to wipe the sheet of sweat over your face and arms. As you walked over to do some weights, you looked ahead in the mirror and locked eyes with Lando. He was standing drinking his water, and you watched as his eyes left yours and shamelessly looked your body up and down again. To be fair - you were swearing the skimpiest gym clothes which left nothing to the imagination.

What you didn't know was that Lando had been eye fucking you the full 15 minutes you were running. He had wanted to be alone, let out his frustration, but that changed the minute he realized it was you who walked through the door. He licked his lips as he saw how your tights wrapped around your ass so perfectly, how your boobs were bouncing and threatening to spill out of your bra, how you back muscles flexed as you ran, and how sweat covered your body making you glisten under the lights. Lando had always found you attractive to say the least, and now he was painfully hard by just watching you workout. He wanted nothing more than to walk up to you and rip your clothes off, bend you over, and rail into you.

You tried your best to ignore him and focus on your task, so you sat on the bench and started brench pressing, heavy breaths leaving your mouth.

Suddenly, you saw Lando standing above you, staring down, and his own breathing just as heavy as yours.

Before you could react and say anything, he held onto the weights and pryed it out of your hands.

''Lan-'' you started, but he cut you off.

''Shh'' you said, before walking around and facing you as you sat up. He took a seat in front of you, legs on either side of the bench as yours were.

You swore you heart was beating out of your chest right now. He looked so heavenly. Bright green eyes, curls messy and sticking to his forehead. And not to mention his god-damn beautiful torso. Muscles taught and defined, with sweat dripping down, his own body shining in the lights.

''Eyes up here'' he said, smirking, catching you out for staring.

''Fuck'' you mumbled to yourself, before you looked up at him.

You felt as his hands found your waist and effortlessly slid you closer to him, and now your breaths were mingling, the heat in your body rising.

As you found yourselves in an apparent staring contest, Lando's hands started roaming your body He traced your arms up and down, your shoulders, you back, and your breath hitched as he suddenly slipped them under your sports bra, feeling up your boobs and fondling with them.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing, but that was impossible with the fact that he was sitting right in front of you and touching you. Now he was rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling at and tugging them, earning himself a moan from you.

''Lando'' you panted, needing more, almost grinding yourself on the bench.

''I know baby''

The nickname gave you goosebumps, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and smile at him.

Soon after, Lando tore your bra off of you, revealing your perky boobs. He lowered his head and latched his mouth onto your left nipple. Biting and sucking on it before using his tongue to sooth over.

Your hands found his hair and you pulled at his curls, edging him on, begging him some more. ''Lando, please'' you said, grinding down on the bench harder than before.

He lifted his head and crashed his lips to yours. It was eager and messy, tongues clashing and spit sliding down both yours and Lando's chin. He bit on your lower lip and you felt him slide his hands through your tights to grope at your ass. By now you were cupping his face, pulling him impossibly closer. While his one hand stayed on your ass, the other slid round to your front and cupped your cunt.

The action has you arching off the bench, breath increasing ever so much as he slid his fingers through your folds, which were soaking by now - something that didn't go unnoticed by him.

''Already dripping for me, love?'' he asked, voice thick and hoarse with his British accent.

''Uh huh'' was all you managed to say, biting your lips at the feeling of his calloused fingers rough against your clit, which he found rather quickly.

He captured your lips with his as he thrust two fingers through your entrance, the swift movement making you tremble in his arms.

''Ride my fingers y/n'' he said between breaths.

And so you did, you rode his fingers hard and fast, and just as he curled them at just the right time, feeling you soft cushiony spot inside of you, you felt a warmth begin to build in your stomach.

No word spoken and Lando added a third finger, sending you trembling over the edge as you latched onto his shoulder for support to ride you through your orgasm.

He slowed his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, before pulling them out and shamelessly licking them clean of you cum, moaning at the taste.

''Hmm, so fucking delicious'''he said, smirking, as you watched, mouth agape.

''Lando please'' you panted. ''Need to feel you in me'' you said, looking at him with longing eyes.

When you looked at him again, his whole demeanor changed. His eyes became ridiculously darker and the emotion he wore on his face was a mix of sudden anger and frustration.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he man handled you to lay down before he ripped your tights off of you and stood up to free himself of his constraints.

You watched as his hard cock bounced first then stood tall and angry.

''Fuck, he's big'' you thought to yourself as he placed himself between your legs.

Lando leaned down to kiss you as you took him in your hands and pumped him a few times, using your thumb to spread his pre cum around his tip.

The movement had him bucking forward, grunting into your mouth.

He pulled back and looked you in the eyes. ''You sure?'' he asked.

''Please. Please fuck me''

He lined himself up and wasted no time in slamming into you, bottoming out in one thrust.

''Shit'' you gasped. He was definitely the biggest you'd ever had, and the sting was intense. But this was Lando Norris, and you were determined to let him have his way with you.

He finally started moving, setting a pace that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your nails dug deep into his skin.

''So fucking tight, fuck y/n''

''Oh, Lando, yes, please, yes'' you cried out, unable to keep your moans at bay.

Lando continued to fuck into you while his mouth found your boobs and sucked hard at them, surely leaving purple bruises for tomorrow.

Within minutes you could feel your walls begin to clench around him, your orgasm approaching fast.

''Fuck, gonna cum Lan-'' you started but before you could finish he pulled out. You whined at him, an annoyed whine which you knew would edge him on further.

He scooped you up with such an ease, and suddenly you were flipped over and on your tummy, Lando sliding into your cunt with force again.

He bunched up your hair and pulled it tight, earning pornographic moans from your mouth straight to his ear.

''Can't win a fucking race but at least I got you begging for me'' he said through bated breaths, finally railing you the way he wanted from when you first walked in.

''Fuck Lando, you won. You won for me'' you moaned. You didn't care what the outcome of the actual race was - in your eyes, he was always a winner.

''Doing so well for me babygirl. That's tight.''

This time your orgasm gave you no warning. Hearing him call you babygirl pushed you over the edge, your body shuddering underneath him and your juices spluttering all over.

You moaned his name as you came, and if anything, he sped up his movements briefly before sliding out of you again.

This time he sat facing the mirror and pulled you up to sit down his lap, facing the mirror as well.

You immediately sank down on his now throbbing dick, setting a harsh pace as his hand snaked its way around you and settled on your throat.

''Want you to watch yourself fuck me'' he roughly whispered in your ear.

You kept your eyes on each other while you rode him, Lando's occasionally dropping down to watch how your boobs bounced up and down with each thrust.

''Fuck'' you hissed as you felt another orgasm approaching.

''Fucking me so good baby, go on. Be my slut'' he urged you to carry on.

Your movements were becoming sloppier, unable to hold yourself up and able to continue to thrust so Lando had to take matters into his own hands.

He was now fucking into you again, but at a relentless pace, clearly chasing his own orgasm as well.

''Together, yeah?'' he asked, his hand sliding down to toy at your clit.

You couldn't hold it in anymore. ''Fuck, Lando, now. I need to cum'' you said, as you felt his cock twitching inside of you.

The room now filled with grunts and moans, swear words flying everywhere as you both reached your climax, juices spilling out of you like the end of the worlds. Lando made sure to empty his load painting your walls white with his warm splutter.

You sank back down on him, letting your weight fall back leaning on him.

You locked eyes in the mirror again, both trying to catch your breaths, sweat dripping down the both of you.

Now that he got his release, Lando couldn't help but feel ashamed at the fact that he used you. Although this was the best sex he'd had in a long time, he felt he needed to apologize, and hope he hadn't fucked up a chance at anything more.

You could feel him softening inside of you, but neither made any attempt to move.

''Lan-''

''Wait. Fuck. I'm sorry if I was too rough'' he said, shyly.

''What?''

''I'm sorry i called you a slut. It was a complement, actually. I just had all this adrenaline from the race. And you were there. And...Fuck, i couldn't help myself'' he was rambling.

''Lando stop.'' you said firmer than you intended to. ''I didn't say I didn't enjoy it. Did I?'' you asked.

He shook his head.

''Really, it was so fucking good, and I'm glad it was me. I'm glad you used me''

''I-What?''

''Yeah, think I needed it as much as you did'' you said.

He wrapped his arms around you holding you tighter.

''Well then I'm glad you walked through the door. Thank you'' he cooed.

You smiled at him and slowly got up, letting him slip out of you, when something dawned on you.

''You ripped my clothes, Lando! literally'' you shrieked, eyes wide and a chuckle filling the air.

He stood up and pecked your lips.

''Well then, you'll just have to come home with me'' he said, smirking, but throwing his t-shirt to you to wear.

As he watching you put it on, he couldn't help but notice the stickiness dripping out of you.

''Fuck'' he mumbled, more to himself.

''What?'' you asked, as you didn't even release he was still watching you.

He didn't say anything, instead he bent down and licked your core, collecting the mixture of both of your cum.

The action had your breath hitching, not expecting it at all. You held onto his head as he did what he did, before he stood back up and let the juice slide out of his mouth and into your, before he kissed you roughly again.

''So fucking hot. Round 2 at mines?'' he asked.

You just smiled and walked to the door, opening it while gesturing him to follow you out.

REMEMBER - requests are open!

[chrrific]

綺麗 IT’S A BAD IDEA, RIGHT? 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 & 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎

slytherin! 엔하이픈 x 𝑓. gryffindor! reader wc 2.005k ─── fluff forbidden relationship au est. relationships l’avis kissing pda pining nicknames like ‘doll’ & ‘pretty’

for : love 💌 mick’s coming back from the dead ?? this one’s for my love ai ( @jjennuine ) >< she’s mine y’all !!!! stay away 😾😾 and go support our collaboration series — lovestruck ! — @lovestruck-show-official

read more fleur

LEE HEESEUNG forbidden relationship

“y/n?”

a whisper echoed through the silent astronomy tower, the only source of light being the moon glimmering through the small window and the stars glimmering above, clearly visible through the enchanted ceiling; it wasn’t enough for heeseung’s eyes to adjust to the dark.

you tiptoed out from your hiding place, and gave him a silent wave and a smile. his lips instantly tugged up sat the sight of you, and he stepped forward, arms finding their home on the nape of your waist as he looked at you.

the look in his eyes was lovesick; wistful.

he hoped and dreamed so hard of the day when the two of you wouldn’t have to hide your relationship, and when you wouldnt have to meet in secret at night.

because this wasn’t right. slytherins and gryffindors just didn’t belong together.

the way you looked in the moonlight was breathtaking, so much so that he swears you’d put amortentia in his porridge that morning. but no, he knew you didn’t. that’s just how much he was in love with you.

PARK JONGSEONG hot boy x unnoticed

jay was the it guy of your year. girls would probably fall at his feet even if he didn’t ask them to. and for some, totally random, unknown reason, it made you almost jealous.

you could almost feel your gaze hardening whenever you saw him with another girl; a girl thats not you. I mean, it’s not like you like-liked him, right? he’s just hot. that’s all it should be, and that’s all it can.

but is that really true?

with the way he’s been shamelessly staring you down from the other end of mcgonnagal’s classroom, you’re sure he can hear your heart pounding from where he’s sat, arms crossed against his chest and gaze set on you in a way that made your breath hitch.

your gaze locked with his, the confidence in his eyes almost intoxicating.

you sighed in relief as the bell rang, snapping him out of your little staring competition before he shoved his stuff into his bag and got off his chair, almost lazily.

just as you were about to walk out of the classroom, a hand wrapping around your wrist stopped you from moving ahead.

“what class do you have next, pretty?”

needless to say, you could feel the ghosts of his fingers around your wrist the entire week.

SIM JAEYUN cocky rival

“good morning, class. today, we are going to be making the love potion known as ‘amortentia’. anyone who knows what it is?”

snape’s cold voice rang around the room, the sound monotonous. everyone knew — of course they did, they were just too scared to answer. there were only two people who were willing enough to answer his question; you and jake sim.

“ah, l/n, yes. so tell me, what is amortentia?” snape asked, shooting jake a glance from rhe corner of his eyes, as if to get him to shut up; like he wanted to see you fail, like he thought all gryffindors did.

you cleared your throat, making sure your voice was loud and clear, wanting your stone-minded, biased professor to see you shine. “amortentia is the most powerful love potion, that is characterised by its—”

you were cut off by another voice, that came from behind you.

“the scent. it is multifaceted, with the scent varying with different people”

a slight frown found its home on your lips, annoyed that jake just had to cut you off in between. “yes, professor. it’s scent.” you muttered, giving jake a glare.

“alright, since the two of you seem to know a lot about the topic, you two will be partners for the entirety of this class.”

you almost wanted to combust right then and there, from those words. why him? why not karina, or jungwon — your friends. at this point, you’d even go to the length of partnering with pansy parkinson, the slytherin girl who acts like she owns the world.

after a reluctant sigh, you shifted your things so jake could move next to you.

as you began to make the potion together, you found yourself struggling with one thing, just one; measuring the pearl dust.

it was so iridescent and was flying all over your workstation, creating a sheen layer that shone even in the dimly lit dungeon.

“need some help, doll?”

PARK SUNGHOON shy x tease

the smell of books overtook your senses as you stepped into the large library, overflowing with shelves upon shelves.

the library was surprisingly full today, and from what your eyes could catch, there was only one seat left; a seat next to a slytherin.

he was focused on whatever he was reading, and it was honestly kinda cute to you. you caught yourself staring for a moment before you got yourself out of it, reprimanding yourself inwardly for a second, before you gathered the courage to go talk to him.

“hey,” your voice rang through the somewhat silent library, even though it was relatively soft. “can i sit here?”

his eyes shifted from his book to you, before he gave a small nod.

you put your bag at the bottom of the chair, and sat down on the seat, not paying much heed to the discomfort the hard cushion underneath brought.

you pulled out a thick book on transfiguration out, starting to read it. it wasn’t like you really liked the subject like rei did, but you had to; you were very close to failing.

as you were starting to get into the book, you felt a pair of eyes on you. you glanced up, only to see said boy sitting next to you being the one looking.

he quickly looked away, pale skin undeniably flushed, staring at the table as if it was an art piece in a museum.

you smirked inwardly, before looking back at your book. maybe sitting next to a slytherin wasnt so bad after all.

KIM SUNOO sunshine x grumpy

sunoo; he just had a way with his persona. that is, he knew exactly how to trick anyone into doing absolutely anything for him, without them realising what trap they fell into.

as you tried to take a step into flitwick’s charms lesson, another person entering made you stop. you glanced behind your shoulder to see who it was, and it was sunoo — cheery smiles and all.

“go ahead,” you murmured, stepping back to let him go ahead. you were met with a too bright ‘thank you!’ before you stepped in yourself.

your eyes scanned the room, only to find that your usual seat at the back was taken already, and the last seat remaining was the one next to him. bracing yourself for the cheery sunshine-ball that sunoo was, you took a step to the desk, plopping down on the seat with your facical expression screaming uninterested.

the class began, with sunoo happily answering flitwick’s questions and taking his notes; meanwhile, you sat, barely able to keep yourself awake because of the all-nighter-study-session you did the previous night.

he shot you a glance from rhe corner of his eyes, his bangs getting in the way of his view ever so slightly. without thinking, he picked up a scrap piece of parchment, scrawling something on it in his overly near handwriting.

it was only because of the parchment being cautiously slid to you that you didn’t nod off, but the words were a bit blurry due to lack of sleep as you tried to read. yet, the second you read it, your brain immediately snapped to its senses.

“hey, you look tired. have you been sleeping well?”

YANG JUNGWON prefect x troublemaker

“another time?” his groan of frustration echoed off the walls, his fingers running through his hair. how many more pranks could you pull? well, considering your new attack, the number of times you could go again would be innumerable.

there you stood in front of his desk, slightly sheepish, but your signature smirk was still on — the one that irked him oh, so much.

“you see, your little warnings really won’t do much. in any case, they make me want to do it more.” the confidence in your tone got under his skin, causing him to look up at you with a glare, as firm as he could muster.

you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped your lips at his attempt to look intimidating, and for some odd reason, it made your heart stop slightly.

you paused, cockiness wavering for just a few seconds, before it came back stronger. “you do know that look it just making it easier to laugh at you, right?” you teased through a chortle, but the way your eyes softened a minuscule amount didn’t go unnoticed by jungwon.

and for a second, it all stopped.

the room went silent, the spirit of your laughter dying down until all that was left was a tension filled with unspoken emotion.

it only lasted a couple moments, though, before he locked back in and looked at you again, voice firm but with a hint of something else lingering at the back.

“just.. keep yourself out of trouble for a bit, yeah? you don’t wanna get yourself suspended before the school year ends.”

NISHIMURA RIKI quidditch rivals

the stakes were high, as the first slytherin vs. gryffindor quidditch match was about to begin.

niki — being the slytherin captain, and you, the gryffindor captain — had always had some sort of issue with you simply existing.

he always found ways to talk to you, always teasing and making fun of you until you’d snap and do something about it.

it just annoyed you so much; the ever-cocky smirk, the smugness layering onto his words, and the way his confident aura that made your heart stutter slightly in your chest each time you spared him a glance.

you couldn’t like him: it’s not right. you’re quidditch rivals from two different houses, and that’s all it would ever be.

but the way his gaze would trail towards you during matches, in the great hall, in the middle of classes, it all made you second guess everything you knew about him and how you felt.

the air was filled with a static kind of energy as the two teams hopped onto their broomsticks, shooting upwards into the sky as madam hooch blew her whistle.

the snitch was set free, and both your and niki’s eyes immediately locked for a moment, a hint of challenge and something else lurking beneath.

as the game went on, slytherin was winning by 130 points, and it felt like continuing to play was a lost cause. the only way you could win was if you were able to spot the sneaky little snitch.

it was all so sudden; you saw the snitch and so did he, and both of you dive bombed towards it. the next thing you knew, you were in the hospital wing with a broken arm and a pounding headache.

apparently, you and niki had hit each other in your speed, and you fell off your broom while he caught onto his somehow.

the second your eyes opened, you were met with the sight of two things; an overly bright light above your head and an apologetic niki sitting on the visitors chair next to your bed.

“hey, you feeling okay? i am so sorry about what happened.” the second he noticed you look up, trying to sit up with a disoriented and confused expression, the guilt crept back in even stronger, and he just word-vomited whatever came to mind: to hell with the so called ‘I hate you’ tag.

“o-oh, it’s fine. ill be alright.” you said, trying to ignore the fact that it felt like someone drove a drill through your skull.

yet, the guilt didn’t leave him at all.

in fact, it came back stronger, along with a weird thump in his heart.

it was probably today’s breakfast, right?

PERMANENT TAGLIST ✉️ 𐔌 ﹒ @liya07v @strvvy-anniee @flufflights @eunandonly @hannamoon143 @irasvr @ateez-atiny380 @amoressb @ikeulove @gudkc @mrsjohnnysuh @sol3chu @nerdywitchcrown @sol3chu @puma-riki @xeee334 @suhiiiies-blog @haerinheartss @layzfy @manaah02 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @enoclockz

likes + reblogs are appreciated !!

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men doing the bicep trend. Their s/o will tie a pink string on their bicep and once they flex it’ll break off!!!

Doing the ribbon around biceps trend with JJK men

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Nanami x wife!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: Tying a ribbon around your boo's biceps and watching how they flex it off? Hell yeah.

Notes: not proofread, Sukuna's part is a little short because I wanted to get this out today, I'll have my knee surgery tomorrow so sorry for ignoring your comments and messages, I'll get back to you when life gets a little easier lol, totally love and appreciate your interactions, I hope you have fun with this!

Gojo Satoru

„Come here babe, I need to show ya something real quick.”

You can’t help but yawn, annoyance dripping from every pore. Oh, your boyfriend is definitely too fit for the fact that it’s still dark outside. What time is it? If he woke you over a strange video he saw on TikTok again…

“Can’t this wait like…4 hours longer?”, you try to resist his urgent wish, shielding your tired eyes from the harsh light of the lamp above.

“I might forget until then. Hey, do you have like a band or something lying around in the bathroom?”

A…band? Your eyes dart towards him, nothing but sheer excitement written on his face. What on earth is Satoru up to now?

“My pink dress has a satin band around the waist I guess”, you mutter.

Maybe this is all he wants. Yes, he just grabs the satin band and goes straight back to sleep-

“Thank you babe!”, he shouts over his shoulder while opening your wardrobe with so much enthusiasm that the door almost falls out of it.

You flinch, rubbing your temple in a desperate attempt to keep yourself together. You love your boyfriend with all your heart, appreciate this childish side of him more than anyone else. But not when you have an important mission tomorrow and had maybe 2 hours of sleep…

“This better be something important, Satoru”, you mumble through your fingers, a sigh escaping your lips.

“Okay babe, ready to see something really big?”

“I swear if you slap your d-“

“Look at me!”

His insisting tone forces you to remove your hand from your face. There he stands, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers paired with a tight black shirt.

And a pink ribbon wrapped around his biceps tightly.

“Now watch.”

With one flex of his veiny biceps, the ribbon opens itself, your pink satin band falling to the floor while he looks at you expectant.

“I have one question”, you begin, eyes still resting on his delicious arm.

“Go ahead babe.”

“How on earth did you tie that ribbon yourself?”

He opens his mouth, nothing but pure outrage written on his face.

“Is this really everything you’re thinking about!? I just gifted you my strong arm!”, he barks overdramatically at you.

“You’re the best present ever”, you purr at your fuming boyfriend, gently stroking his arm when he finally gets back into bed.

“But if you wake me over something like that ever again, I’ll murder you.”

Nanami Kento

“Why are you looking at me with those eyes, darling?”

You blush immediately, the day dream of that trend you saw earlier on your beloved husband not leaving your mind. Kento with a bow around his strong arm. Kento flexing his arm in front of you, causing the ribbon to open up.

…Just like your legs.

“You’re daydreaming again.”

You force yourself to look up at him only to find out that he’s already looking at you, soft eyes lightened by a spark of curiosity.

“It’s just…I saw that trend online and it kinda…reminded me of you…”, you mutter, embarrassment crawling up your veins.

You’re acting like a horny teenager over a man you call your husband for several years by now. Kento is the epitome of a gentleman, the most elegant male being walking on this earth. How stupid to even consider wrapping a ribbon around his biceps…

“Don’t be embarrassed, (y/n). Tell me what’s on your mind. What exactly is this trend about?”

He puts the paper he was reading aside and wraps his fingers gently around your chin, slowly but surely making you lose your mind. It should be forbidden for a single man to be this captivating. Should you…Just tell him? Your imagination runs wild, breath getting stuck in your throat by the simple thought of him actually doing this…

“Tying a ribbon around your biceps and opening it by tensing your arm”, you blurt out.

His eyes widen just the slightest. Oh no, does he think you’re weird, desperate, pathetic? You should really stop roaming around social media late at night-

“Why not trying it, then? Even though I don’t think I’m strong enough to untie a ribbon with my muscles.”

Wait…Did he really say yes? You blink over and over to make sure he’s not messing with you until he gets up and grabs a roll of ribbon from your cabinet before cutting off more than enough of the black band. Before you fully realize what just happened he takes off his dark blue shirt, naked skin getting exposed to the dim light of the room.

And your merciless gaze.

“Would you mind helping me out? I can’t tie a bow on my own with just one hand, darling.”

You force your mouth to stay closed, keep your palms from getting sweaty. This is your husband, goddamn.

Your husband, wearing nothing but his work pants. Your husband, holding up a black band, waiting for you to wrap it around his strong arm only because you couldn’t stop imagine him doing a stupid internet trend. Out of instinct, you follow the invitation of his stretched-out hand, fingertips pulsating against his firm muscles while you tie a perfect little bow.

Until he flexes his muscles, forcing the band to untie itself in slow motion. His beefy arm, veins threaten to pop open any given minute. How is it possible for a man to be in this shape when relaxed? Your gaze is fixated on his delicious sight in front of you – so focused that you don’t notice his other hand grabbing your chin before it’s too late.

“It seems like you’re enjoying the view”, he comments softly.

“Just because you are the view, Kento”, you clarify with a small smile, allowing him to drag you into his strong arms.

Toji Fushiguro

“You want me to do what?”

You grab his arm tightly, doe eyes making it hard for none other than Toji Fushiguro to focus. What did you see on the internet again? “Ribbon around bicep”…What the hell?

“I want you to tie a pink ribbon around your bicep and pop it open with your beefy muscles”, you explain briefly.

“Come on babe. Why can’t I just wrap my hand around ya neck instead?”

“Tempting”, you purr, finger gliding over his firm chest delicately slow.

“But you’re the perfect match for that trend. Now sit your ass down and gimme your arm.”

Just before Toji is even able to press his longing lips against yours, you shove him onto the couch and position yourself on top of him, pink ribbon dangling from your fingertips.

“C’mon (y/n)”, he groans, pouting like a little child when you slap the hand that tried to dig into your butt away.

“Hold still. I need to concentrate”, you instruct him.

“Promise we’ll fu-“

“DONE!”, you scream out, the sheer excitement radiating from your voice making him stop mid-sentence.

His eyes follow your gaze, revealing a wonky-looking bow tied around his biceps so firmly that it might burst any minute.

“And now you want me to do what?”, he questions.

It’s hard to keep himself from smiling when you sit in front of him grinning like an idiot. Is that really all it takes? A fucking ribbon wrapped around his biceps? What a strange thing you are.

But still…

You look so breathtakingly gorgeous that he can’t keep up his annoyed façade.

“Flex your muscles babe!”, you instruct him, index finger poking into his biceps.

Fine, he’ll do you the favour. Slowly, he lifts up his arm before popping open the bow with ease, watching the shocked expression on your face.

“That trend was totally made for you, Toji!”, you shriek, your eyes still fixated on his arm.

“Let’s do that again.”

“I know something better.”

All it takes is a swift motion for you to lay underneath him, your hot breath escaping your lips in shock.

“I’m next, babe”, he breathes out.

Bonus: Sukuna

“Why did I even agree to do this…”, the king of curses mumbles while you’re busy tying another ribbon around his arm.

“Hold still, I’m not done yet.”

“You already tied this one three times, (y/n). I’m getting impatient.”

“Oh, I know you don’t. Deep down you enjoy me caressing your arm”, you reply with a cheeky grin, carefully forming another bow around his fourth arm.

Tying a bow around a single arm already sounding inviting, but the stinging fact that your lover has not only two but four arms to offer for this delicious trend…There was no way in hell for you to resist this opportunity.

“Really deep down”, he grumbles.

“I’m done. Now stand still and don’t move until I say so”, you bark at him while taking a few steps back.

“Watch how you talk to me or I’ll-“

“Shut up Sukuna, your threats don’t work for me. Okay, flex your muscles in three, two, one…”

Out of instinct, he lifts up his four arms and pops open every ribbon you tied so laborious these pasts minutes. Damn, he really feels like an idiot, standing in front of you shirtless with pink ribbons falling from his arms. But that look on your face, the way you clap your hands in sheer excitement, that phone…Wait.

“Did you film this, brat?”

You blink a few times, the smile on your face disappearing as fast as it came.

“Maybe I did”, you reply, quickly turning on your heels and sprinting away.

“Delete that right now!”

“I will watch this every time I go to bed!”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa

[ytmanzwhore]

Abbots Mini Me

Pairing: Jack Abbot x OFC (Ana Abbot); Pitt Characters x Abbot offspring (platonic)

Summary: A surprise guest in the Pitt reveals some truths to the newbies

Notes: god I’m obsessed with this show and this character and the whole TEAM…. And this trope has been done but this is my little twist :)

The time in between day shift and night shift in the Pitt is contained chaos. There is always crossover, residents, attendings, nurses; all sharing reports with the next crew, making sure the patients are taken care of and commiserating over the never ending stream of new people in the waiting room.

Abbot and Robby typically take their debrief on the roof, and to no one’s surprise it usually involves one talking the other down (and not always the same one). This particular evening, a ball of chaos made its way into PTMC with a shy smile, totally disregarding the gurney she was riding on.

“Stella?” Ellis said loudly as soon as she spotted the blonde being wheeled in, rushing over. It seemed like half the ER ground to the halt at the name, Dana and Bridget both stopping their own hand over to rush over to the gurney and paramedics.

“Passed out on campus at Pitt,” the paramedic read off. “Vitals are unsteady, pupils lagging, potential concussion.”

“Oh no,” Dana said quietly as she ushered them to a room. “Honey did you call-“

“Yep from the bus,” Stella smiled serenely. “I told them I was fine. I didn’t even-“

“Yes you did,” a voice piped in. The room turned to the blonde male in the door. “You hit your head. You definitely lost consciousness. You-“

“Damien,” Stella hissed as the group got her moved over to the bed. “Leave it. I don’t want to make a scene.”

“Too late for that,” Bridget whispered as she watched Dana head to the roof. The nurse went ahead and began getting Stella hooked up to the machines. “Damien, do you want to head to the staff room?”

“I’ll get a cookie,” the boy grunted as he turned around, almost mowing down the group of curious newbies at the door. “Can I help you?”

Javadi, Mel and Whitaker practically leapt out of his way while Santos gave him the stink eye. Damien was unphased, walking down the hall and waving to Matteo and Jesse as he went.

“Who was that asshole?” Santos asked as she stepped into the exam room, eyeing the bed before determining there was nothing exciting happening.

“My brother,” Stella smiled, barely flinching as Bridget set up her IV. “He’s an asshole, but he’s a little freaked too.”

“You think that was freaked?” Bridget laughed. “Just wait.”

“Is she like, a vip?” Javadi whispered as Mohan joined the group at the door.

“Oh no,” Mohan groaned as she saw who was in the bed. “Do I have time to leave?”

“Nope!” Dana called out as she exited the elevator at a slow stroll, a stormy faced attending speeding past her, beelining to the room everyone was hovering around.

“Move,” Abbot grunted as he pushed through the group, heading right for the side of the bed. “Stell- you ok?”

“I’m ok,” she smiled softly up at the stern faced man. “Just a little-“

“Dehydrated, not sleeping, and eating bad?” Robby interjected, looking at the chart and the notes from the paramedics. “Finals week?”

“I promise I’m taking care of myself!” Stella defended, looking between the two men while the newbies looked on in confusion. “It’s just been a long few weeks-“

“Where’s your-"

"Here," Langdon said with a laugh as he rounded the corner with Damien under his arm sipping on a coffee. "He was super charging the coffee pot again."

"I swear I can't take you anywhere," Abbot grumbled with a lack of heat as he turned to Bridget. "Run her some fluids, schedule a CT and give her a Vitamin pack-"

"Where is she?" A voice said loudly from the center station, turning every head. "I swear on my life if someone doesn't-"

"Mom chill," Damien called out with an eye roll. "She's in here."

"You two are going to be the death of me," a woman said exasperatedly. The new doctors all watched as a beutiful woman entered the hall, clearly in a work from home outfit consisting of PJ pants and a satin top, complete with slippers. She carried a toddler on one hip, and a diaper bag on the other shoulder with a laptop sticking out.

"You raised us like this," Damien shrugged, ducking the womans hand as it came out to snag his ear as she walked by.

"Hi mama," Stella smiled sweetly. "How are you? You look beautiful."

"Don't you sweet talk me," the woman didn't break her stride as she entered the room, shoved the grinning toddler at Robby and glared at Abbot. "What is the diagnosis?"

"Dehydration, low vitamins," Robby repeated, bobbing up and down as he cuddled the toddler who was already uninspired by his surroundings. "Too much coffee, not enough sleep-."

"Stella," the woman sighed heavily. "You promised. You stared your father in the face and lie-"

"Hey," Abbot threw his hands up. "Why does that sound like a accusation?"

"Look at me," she hissed, glaring at Jack as the newbies really began thinking they were in the twilight zone. "Does it look like the time to test me?"

"No honey," Abbot back tracked, reaching over to softly pull her into his side. "Take a breath, she's fine. Right in front of you."

"You taught her that military precision," the woman almost wailed. "She's your mini me. What happened? She can't even take on your habits of surviving on supplements."

"We'll work on it," Jack soothed as Dana peeked over the newbies shoulders.

"These are the Abbots," Dana took pity. "Stella and Damien and Noah."

"Thats an age difference," Santos said without thinking, freezing as multiple heads turned to her slowly.

"Oh, he's our chosen dad," Damien piped in. "Sperm donor sucked, Dad didn't, we chose him and he chose to stick around. So theres Noah."

"Damien, you make it sound like an epsiode of Jerry Springer," Ana Abbot sighed as she closed her eyes to block out the migraine she felt building.

"Shouldn't have had a newborn when your oldest were going to college," Damien said with a shit eatting grin. "Not great for your health."

[kilesplaysthings]

how the boys would react when you have a migraine

yeahhh third one babyyy! i swear these all popped into my head one after the other, in this order, actually! This one was really fun to write, because Zayne!!! 🥰 sorry, my bias might be showing here lol

Xavier | Rafayel | Zayne | Sylus | Caleb

Part III: Zayne (you/MC x Zayne)

It was your day off, and boy, were you ever grateful for that. Last night as you got ready for bed, another headache decided to plague you. You had hoped a good night's rest would make it go away - you even slept in and stayed in bed for longer than usual. But no, the headache was still there and it persisted until it turned into a full-blown migraine that was a continual throbbing with such an intense amount of pressure that you wanted to scream.

What's worse, when you went to grab your prescription medication to try and chase this pain away, you realized you had run out. You requested a refill as soon as you could, and thankfully, the doctor was prompt in filling it, but that meant having to drag yourself off the couch and out to the pharmacy. Of course you didn't want to keep suffering, but you also really didn't want to go out. Over the counter pain medication wasn’t helping so all you could do was lie there debating with yourself about whether you should go or not. You also hadn't eaten all day and knew you should fix something, but again, you didn't have it in you to move.

It was a crummy way to spend you day off, but such was life. You felt like the kid from Ferris Bueller's Day Off, lying there listless, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating your life's choices and feeling like you were dying.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. You groaned at the effort you had to make to pick it up from the coffee table. Your hand slowly slipped from under the blanket to blindly grope for the device. It fell on the floor, and you let out the most pitiful whine. Bending down to pick it up made your head throb harder.

You didn't even look to see who it was before you swiped on the screen to answer the call.

"...Hello..." you croaked out.

"Well, hello to you too," came the amused voice of your boyfriend on the phone.

Your eyes widened. "Oh. Hey, Zayne."

"I just got off of work. Are you still interested in going to that cafe we talked about?"

Your eyes slid shut. You had totally forgotten that the two of you had made plans to try out a new cafe that had opened up downtown recently. But with the way your head was hurting, you weren't up to going anywhere, even if it was with Zayne.

"I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to take a rain check on that," you told him. "I'm not feeling well."

"What's wrong?" He asked, his voice now laced with concern. "Do you have another migraine?"

You couldn't help but laugh softly. "Correct, as usual, Doctor. I've had it since last night. I thought sleeping on it would help, but it won't go away."

"All right. I'll be right over."

You sat up a little. "Oh, you don't have to-"

"No, I don't," he agreed. "But I want to. That is, unless you'd prefer being alone?"

You sighed. He knew the answer to that. "I look gross right now..." You warned him.

"I'm sure I can handle it," was his warm response.

You decided not to argue any more. As you ended the call, you couldn't help feeling relieved that he was coming over.

"Go ahead and let yourself in." You texted him so you didn't have to get up. He knew the code to your door anyway.

It wasn't long after that Zayne appeared, striding through the front door. He was carrying two bags and also holding a cup holder that held two drinks. When he saw you, his face lit up with a gentle smile.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly. He knew to keep his voice down when you had a migraine.

"Bleh."

He sniffed out a short laugh at that. "That bad, huh?" He placed the bags and drinks on the coffee table. "Where is your medication? Did you take it yet?"

Your eyes skittered away from his face. "Well..."

"Well?" His tone became firmer. He was going into doctor mode. "Does that mean you haven't?"

You turned to bury your face in the cushions. "I ran out..."

"Do you need it refilled, then? Have you contacted your neurologist?"

"I did," you replied. "I just haven't gone to pick it up yet."

"I see."

You peeked up at him, worried you'd see that stern expression he'd give you when you were being lax with your health. Instead, you saw him slipping his overcoat back on.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to pick up your medication."

All of a sudden, you felt your eyes tearing up a little. Guilt flowed through you. "I'm sorry, you don't have to... I'm not trying to make you go get it for me..."

He turned to you and smiled. Then he walked over to your side and placed his hand on top of your head. His thumb gently swept aside your messy bangs.

"I know. It's fine, I want to go. In fact, you could have just asked me to get it for you while I was on my way here. I know how bad your migraines can get, so I want you to rest. Doctor's orders."

He took one of the drinks and handed it to you.

"I got you a chai with cinnamon and oat milk, just how you like it. Just relax. I'll be right back."

You sniffled a little and nodded, taking large sips of the drink so you wouldn't begin to cry. Zayne was the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for and there were times when you wondered if you really deserved him.

He soon returned with a small paper bag in hand. Inside was your prescription for your migraines.

"Before you take it, let's make sure you eat something. How's your stomach today? Have you been feeling nauseous?" He inquired as he pulled out two styrofoam boxes from one of the bags.

"Fortunately, no. I just haven't felt like eating," was your answer.

"Good. The cafe we were going to go to today also offers soup, salad and sandwiches. I got you tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich. Is that okay?"

Your mouth began to water and a sudden growling noise erupted from you. Zayne's green eyes sparkled amusedly.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said. He opened one of the boxes and handed it to you. Inside was a sliced grilled cheese sandwich wrapped in napkins as well as a cup of tomato soup that was covered with a plastic lid.

"I'll get you a spoon," he told you.

While you waited, you took off the plastic soup lid and dipped the sandwich into the cup of soup. It was still warm and extremely delicious. You weren't sure why, but this was the perfect soup and sandwich combo for when you weren't feeling well. It was comforting.

Zayne came back from the kitchen with silverware, dessert plates and some napkins. He settled down into the couch beside you and picked up a plastic container that held a fresh-looking salad, with a cup of dressing on the side.

"That's all you wanted? A salad?"

"This is enough for me," he replied. "Besides, this isn't the main course. That's reserved for the desserts I brought." He nodded to the second bag. Inside you could spy cutely designed containers, all in pastel colors with elegant writings and cute symbols on them. You could only imagine what kind of cupcakes, macarons, and cheesecakes were inside.

Shaking your head with a smile, all you said was, "Oh, of course."

Once you were finished with your meal, Zayne retrieved the medicine from the paper bag. He read the directions on the bottle and handed you the proper amount of pills for you to take. Once you downed them with a swig of your drink, you decided to sit up on the couch, now next to Zayne, so you could lean against his side.

"Thanks, Zayne," you uttered softly.

He turned to look at you. "For what?"

"For everything; coming over, bringing food, going to grab my meds..." You sheepishly smiled. "You're always so sweet to me..."

He smiled and shook his head a little, his hand reaching behind you to rub your back. "You never need to thank me for anything like that. If you're not feeling well, of course I'm going to take care of you."

You felt yourself getting emotional again and, a little embarrassed for him to see you get all teary-eyed, you decided to lie down on him, placing your head in his lap, your face pressed against his stomach. You could hear Zayne's sweet, soft laughter and felt his hand upon your head.

"Perfect timing. I was going to ask you if you wanted a head massage."

You took hold of his free hand while he ran his fingers through your hair and massaged your scalp. You nuzzled his hand in thanks.

"I might fall asleep like this," you told him.

In return, he pulled the blanket over you and sat back into the couch to get more comfortable.

"Go ahead. We'll eat the desserts when you wake up."

[hyhkai]

∾ manwhore, mansplain, manipulate | sb

[ 🐬 ] — after having the displeasure of meeting the most annoying, son of a- nevermind, mansplaining cockalorum of your college, who you couldn't have figured to be the pervert type, and who you realize is also a dunce after he won't leave you alone though your annoyance was always written on your face, it's clear, it's obvious he'll only get shoo'ed away at one cost. or at least you think he will, since you've had enough of his bitchy attitude.

cw : PUBLIC, arguing, annoying clingy soobin, soobin's personality in this is quite the opposite from his real one, handjob, degrading crazy amounts.

a/n ; DO BLEACHERS EVEN HAVE SPACES BEHIND THEM, in this they do I couldn't care less, fuck, the title is the male version of gaslight gatekeep girlboss, and I totally made this plot on the spot while writing please.

you almost slammed the pen down onto the desk in a class so quiet that you could hear the clock ticking if paid attention to enough, looking behind after soobin poked at your back for the third time this class. "what. just what is it that you want from me?"

"nothing." he said, placing his head down on his own desk. those eyes may be doe, but they're like a siren to fucking run.

this is the kind of boy who makes you feel special, then ghosts you.

the cute kind of those, too.

"then don't poke me like that" you mumbled, turning your head ahead. you swear if it was possible for you to punch him if he even tried to talk to you during this class again, you would.

he's always been so... desperate, it's that he wants something from you but won't say it out loud, won't use his calculated words.

"y/n," to which he got no response, so he resorted to shaking your chair.

"what the f-" you looked back at him, a look of disappointment, anger and annoyance all over. "fuck you."

"I wish." he mumbled, looking into your eyes with no regret of what he just said.

"oh, wow." you said, and smiled without wanting to. "you're crazy."

"i know, right?" he shook his head in sarcastic thought. "I am kind of crazy."

"now please if you stay quiet, l could pay attention." and to your surprise, he stayed quiet throughout the entirety of what was left of the class. no poking, no chanting your name like a mantra. but it was not a reaction you'd usually get from soobin, he's always been the guy to fuck around with no remorse. and that is, very obvious, he is a dunce.

he's dunce enough to not even realize he is one.

class done, bag packed — you just wanted to get out and go back to your house, eat and sleep like you'd usually do, or like to do. but, alas, there was one thing hindering your peace and happiness — choi soobin. this one heck of a man who would fuck any object that is a good fleshlight alternative, a man who'd be happy from just fingering you.

and that, to you, is a problem.

how can a guy, with a face like that — a build like that, keep on poking and poking and poking at you until you've had enough and slap him across the face, just to get off on it? it's asinine.

so when you're walking out of the building, annoyed that your bag's strap keeps falling off your shoulder — and you spot him on the bleachers, there's one thing you make a mental note of.

change your route to the exit, please.

he almost jumped three stairs down when he saw you, lollipop clung onto his mouth's roof as he swirled it around.

"hey!" he lifted his hand in the air as a way of waving at you.

the loser's back at it again.

you didn't even look, didn't even glance at his figure that can only be described as perfect as he grabbed your bag. it got snatched right away because of just how loose you kept it on your shoulders.

"i said hey." he said again, looking at your exasperated, pretty face when you turned around.

"give that back, loser." you retorted, turning around, your head tilting forward with every word.

"sorry, what?" he said, putting a hand behind his ear to hear you better.

the fucker is now mocking your height? he is mocking your height? him?

"i said, give that back." you said, closing your eyes for a while so you can imagine smacking his face. "give me my bag back."

he laughed at your demands, looking in the direction of the building and right back at you.

"no"

you didn't realize before this that a single word can also hold so much meaning and depict just how much of an absolute motherfucker a man can be.

"no? no?! seriously?!" you looked up at his face that was only giving you realization after realization that he's a slutty bitch. "what do you want from me?"

he suckled on his candy for a while, looking as if in deep thought. but to no surprise with his next statement. "not much, really."

oh really now? not much? it's so obvious since the day he saw you, that in his mind he thought it won't be long until he's going to have you in his lap. is that not too much to ask for?

"just a bit of your time, is all." he continued, looking at the badges pinned on the front of your bag.

“You can’t for one second act like a man can you? You're such a cunt!” you feel like you could rip out your hair with how frustrating he's being. with the amount of cockiness he thinks he's so cool to be binding his personality with, you could beat him up with no regrets. "what do you want from me?! attention? tutoring? pussy?—"

"yeah."

"what?" your face contorted when he responded to the word that was merely a mockery of his wants and needs. "huh." you clicked your tongue. of course your assumptions about him only wanting to get his fill were true.

you grabbed his arm and pushed him further back, until the two of you were behind the bleachers. he didn't react to your very aggressive methods of traveling until you stopped.

"what the fuck are you doin—" he attempted at a protest as he dropped your bag to the ground, but was ultimately shut up with you pulling his head down vehemently and crashing your lips against his, and even though you're the one who initiated the kiss, his response is more enthusiastic than any guy you've ever gotten with — and it's so sloppy, it's unexpected from a boy with lips as plush as his.

maybe it's wrong to do this, maybe it's right, but it's the only way to stop this boy who's been wanting to fuck you for months now. "is this what you wanted? huh?" you asked, looking up at him, his locks of hair between your fingers as he looked at you with lips parted. you took advantage of his state, putting your thumb in his mouth, pressing against his tongue.

"hng—" his hand, as if by ultra instinct, crawled to your waist. maybe it's a form of affection, or maybe he's a desperate slut. "who told you you could touch me with your crusty hands?"

he sucks and licks on them, surprising you as you feel his tongue swirl…fuck, how badly did you misread him? he's liking it?

he couldn't respond, this wasn't the way he'd expected to end up today at all — but hey, he isn't complaining. you rubbed your knee against his crotch, pinning him against the back of the bleachers.

please, someone don't be here.

"keep your mouth open." he was holding back his urge to bite down onto your thumb, as the stiffness of his body finally gave out and he stood straight up. you fed him your index finger, pressing your knee against his crotch again, rubbing as your brain went airplane mode. this isn't the best way to stop his bullshit, no, but you like it this way. him, on the other hand? he loves it this way, the slut is just too shy to admit it.

"awh, the manwhore is too shy to talk back now?" you pulled your fingers out, bubbles and strings of saliva on the pads of your fingers when your hands slipped into his pants after unzipping them, and you felt just how horny he can get in a span of a few minutes. he's enjoying this.

"um, so— holy shit— wh—” hes stumbling over his words. his hands are limp to protest against you, and his cock is too hard for him to protest against you.

you clasp your hand over his mouth, weakly, but he stills shuts up his ramble and jumble of words, blinking at you from above, with those god damn pretty eyes.

"shut up. just shut up. i bet you jerk off your stupid dick all night thinking about me, fucking whore."

his eye twitched at the statement, but he still does. "please fuck me." he requested while being muffled and jumbled.

"I am," you said as a matter of fact, tugging at his cock slowly. "I'm touching you, soobin."

"but, not completely." and this just showed how much of a demanding brat he is, not satisfied with the bare minimum friction he's getting.

"tch, tch, such a desperate man. aren't you happy a girl like me is touching your disgusting dick?" pressing your thumb on his tip to which his eye twitched, trying to grab your wrist to stop the pressure.

You could feel his breath on your neck—hot and heavy, which makes you feel things, to your demise — makes you wet, as you moved his hand out of the way for you, and after slight resistance, he pathetically lets you, followed by a whimper following shortly after when you start to slowly palm him. The moment you feel it twitched, you halt your movement, removing your hand from his crotch all together.

"h-hah.. h-huh? yeahh... yeah— fuck, please please, touch it properly, please—" he finally broke, letting out a whine he wishes you didn't hear, but judging by the smirk on your face, you definitely did. and it was hot— fuck, it was the sexiest thing he's ever done.

"ugh, I don't have all day for this." you shook your head, stretching the waistline of his bottoms forward and shoving you hands down again.

"holy fuuccck." he whispered, marvelling at the touch of your nails on the underside of his tip.

you twisted your hand as you jerked at his tip, causing his knees to bend an inch and his hips to buckle, closing his eyes shut. "shut the fuck up, soobin. don't need any student hearing you getting your cock jerked off, do we?" to which he mindlessly nodded, his head thrown back against the harsh metal that's probably heated up from the summer rays.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed under his breath, head tilting side to side every now that then, his chest heaving up and down. you squeezed his dick with your palm, causing his eyelids to squeeze. this sight has your panties in a bunch, but you can't show him that.

you press harder, his breaths knocked out of him, a slight squeak by the end that has his ears turning red and heated. you looked down at the sight of your hands shoved down his denims. "hah, do you not know when to stop annoying a girl? when to quit with your antics, and be a good boy? do you have no shame?” you mock, feeding his desire to be degraded that you're sure he has from the way he's reacting.

"is this— fuck, h-hah, is this the way you put all annoying guys in their place?" he questioned, managing to flutter his eyes open. he looked at you from the corner of his eye, trying to hide his face that was turning pink.

you laughed at the question, still looking down, index finger nudging his balls. "maybe it is. will that stop you from being an absolute annoying slut? will it?"

he couldn't respond, of course he couldn't — he's busy marvelling at the feeling of your warm, soft hands so all he could do was shake his head vehemently in a no.

what a slut!

"of course it wouldn't, pathetic whores like you only think from their dicks. you're a shameless bitch, soobin."

he couldn't protest, couldn't respond to the insults thrown at him — he's breathing is so messed up now his back is rubbing up and down the metal. "I'm gonna— I'm—" and he came in his pants, which will surely be a disaster for him to wash out afterwards.

you pulled your hand out, disguising your arousal with disgust at the sight of cum on your fingers, which you scrubbed off on the pockets of his pants, lifting your bag off the ground and throwing it on your shoulder. "keep being annoying."

i can write a whole fic explaining why I should give up on writing. okay goodbye. thank you for reading my garbage <3

[spicyschemmenti]

FIRE DRILL FLIRTATION ➫ melissa schemmenti

pairing: melissa schemmenti x bimbo!teaching assistant!fem!reader

synopsis: during a routine fire drill, you stick a little too close to melissa, pressing against her and whispering sweet nothings that make her dangerously close to losing control

warnings: implied age gap, sexual tension, swearing, power dynamics?? work place setting, teasing, inappropriate behaviour

word count: 1.9k

author's note: omg, thanks for this request?? i loved writing it sm

based on this request: Melissa Schemmenti x Sassy Bimbo!Teaching Assistant!Fem reader mini series would be amazing! Kind of like your Alex Cabot ones but reader is more ditzy?

MASTERLIST ----- JOIN A TAGLIST

The blaring fire alarm echoed through the halls of Abbott, sending kids and teachers pouring out of classrooms like a chaotic wave. You were supposed to be helping herd the kids toward the exit, but honestly? You were a little too distracted making sure your skirt didn’t ride up as you walked.

It wasn’t your fault that the outfit was maybe a little inappropriate for school. A tight, bubblegum-pink mini skirt that hugged your curves and showed off just enough leg to be dangerous, paired with a lacy, low-cut white tank top that was definitely pushing the limits of dress code. The little cropped cardigan you threw over it was more for show than anything else, and your glossy lips and perfectly winged eyeliner? Total bimbo perfection.

You knew the moment you caught Melissa’s eye this morning that she’d noticed. Her lips had pursed, her gaze lingering on your chest for a split second longer than necessary before she’d muttered something under her breath about “these damn kids” and stalked off.

Now, in the middle of a crowded hallway during a fire drill, you saw your chance.

“Ms Schemmenti!” you called out, your voice just a little too sweet as you teetered on your heels, pretending to look helpless as the crowd jostled you.

Melissa was a few steps ahead, guiding her class toward the doors with that no-nonsense attitude that made your knees weak. Her maroon blouse hugged her curves in all the right places, and those tight black slacks? Yeah, they weren’t doing you any favors either. She looked good. And the way she commanded the room, her voice calm but firm as she directed everyone toward safety? Ugh.

You bit your lip, feeling that familiar heat swirl low in your belly.

Melissa’s head snapped around at the sound of your voice, her eyes narrowing as she spotted you lagging behind. “Oh, for…” She muttered something under her breath, probably a prayer, and marched toward you with purpose.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she said, her tone clipped but not unkind as she grabbed your wrist and pulled you close. “Stick with me. I don’t need you gettin’ lost in this mess.”

Ohhh, she had no idea what she’d just done.

You let out a little breathy sigh, pressing yourself against her side like you needed her to keep you safe. Your arm looped through hers, your body molding to her, and you didn’t miss the way her muscles tensed at the sudden contact.

“Thanks, Ms Schemmenti,” you murmured, looking up at her with wide, innocent eyes. “It’s just… so crowded. And, like… I don’t wanna get trampled.”

Melissa’s jaw clenched. Jesus Christ, this girl’s gonna kill me.

She was trying—really trying—to focus on the kids and getting everyone outside safely, but it was damn near impossible when you were practically purring in her ear like that. And the way your body was pressed against her? Soft, warm, and so close. She could feel every curve, every subtle shift of your hips as you moved beside her.

Focus, Melissa. You’re at work. Surrounded by kids. This is not the time to be thinking about how good she smells.

But God help her, that sweet, floral perfume you wore was making her head swim.

“Sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice low and gruff as she tried to maintain her composure, “you’re supposed to be helpin’ me keep the kids calm, not clingin’ to me like a lost puppy.”

But instead of letting go, you just… giggled. A soft, airy sound that went straight to her core.

“But Ms Schemmenti,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear as the crowd pressed in closer, “you’re just… so strong.”

Melissa’s breath caught. Fuck.

Her grip on your waist tightened instinctively, her hand resting just a little lower than it probably should have been. You felt it immediately, of course. And instead of pulling away, you leaned into it, your body practically melting against her side.

“Oops,” you murmured, a mischievous sparkle dancing in your eyes as you looked up at her through your lashes. “Sorry. It’s just… kinda tight in here.”

Yeah, that’s not the only thing that’s tight right now, Melissa thought, her jaw tightening as she dragged her eyes away from the way your lips were so close to hers.

Her mind was racing. She was supposed to be focused. But all she could think about was how soft your skin felt against her, how your perfume was making her dizzy, and how your damn giggles were making her heart beat way too fast.

Meanwhile, you were having the time of your life.

You could feel the tension rolling off of her, the way her body was practically vibrating with restraint. And it was so much fun to push her buttons. Melissa Schemmenti was always so cool, so in control but right now? You had her completely flustered, and it was delicious.

“I like when you take charge,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise, but you knew she heard it.

Melissa’s eyes snapped to yours, dark and dangerous, her jaw clenched so tight you thought she might crack a tooth.

“Sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice low enough that it sent a shiver straight down your spine. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game.”

Your lips curled into a sly smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Me? I’m just followin’ directions…”

But you both knew that was a lie. And from the way her fingers tightened on your waist, pulling you just a little closer as the crowd started to thin

You weren’t the only one feeling the heat.

The cool air hit you like a wave as the crowd of kids and teachers spilled out into the parking lot. But even with the breeze brushing against your bare legs, the heat simmering between you and Melissa didn’t let up.

“Alright, everybody stay in your lines,” Melissa barked, her voice sharp as ever, but there was an edge to it that hadn’t been there before. Like she was barely holding it together.

You could see it—the way her jaw clenched, the furrow in her brow, the slight flush creeping up her neck. She was frazzled. And it wasn’t from the fire drill.

It’s from you.

“Ms Schemmenti,” you purred, sidling up to her again even though there was zero reason for you to be that close. The kids were fine, standing in neat little lines with the other teachers. But here you were, all wide-eyed and innocent, pressing your body against her arm like you needed her to keep you safe.

Melissa didn’t move away. But she also didn’t look at you.

“Why’re you still glued to my side, sweetheart?” she muttered, her voice a little too gruff.

You tilted your head, blinking up at her with that sweet, ditzy expression that always made her weak in the knees. “I dunno… I just feel safer when I’m with you,” you murmured, leaning in just enough that your lips brushed the shell of her ear.

Safe? Oh, honey. If only you knew.

Melissa’s entire body went rigid, her jaw so tight you thought she might actually break something. Her mind was a mess. On one hand, she was supposed to be keeping things professional. You were her coworker, for God’s sake. A sweet, bubbly, barely qualified teaching assistant who had no idea what she was doing half the time.

But on the other hand?

You were driving her insane.

Melissa wasn’t blind. She’d noticed the way you looked at her—how your eyes lingered just a little too long when she bent over to pick something up, how your smile got a little brighter when she was around, how you always found a reason to touch her, even if it was just a light brush of your hand against hers.

And now? Pressed up against her like this, your body warm and soft and way too close?

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph… I’m gonna lose my damn mind.

“Sweetheart,” Melissa growled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You need to—”

“Relax,” you interrupted, your voice dripping with sugar as you tilted your head and looked up at her with that innocent, wide-eyed gaze that had gotten you out of trouble more times than you could count.

“But I like being close to you,” you murmured, your glossy lips curling into a playful pout. Your fingers brushed against her arm, trailing down her forearm so lightly it was almost innocent. Almost.

Melissa snapped.

“Jesus,” she muttered, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the crowd so fast you barely had time to process what was happening.

“Whoa!” you giggled, stumbling a little in your heels as she guided you toward the side of the building where the crowd couldn’t see. “Ms Schemmenti, what’s the rush?”

Her grip on your wrist loosened, but she didn’t let go. Instead, she turned to face you, her body just a little too close, her eyes dark and filled with something you hadn’t seen before.

“Do you enjoy testin’ my patience?” she murmured, her voice low and dangerous, making your breath catch in your throat.

You blinked up at her, all wide-eyed innocence, but the smirk tugging at the corners of your lips gave you away. “I dunno what you’re talking about, Miss Schemmenti…”

Melissa’s jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing as she scanned your face. God, you were trouble.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” she muttered, her hand still holding your wrist, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “You know exactly what you’re doin’.”

You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. She was so close. You could feel the heat radiating off her, the tension crackling in the air like a live wire.

“Maybe,” you murmured softly, your eyes flickering to her lips before meeting her gaze again. “But… is it working?”

Oh, you little—

Melissa’s resolve was hanging by a thread.

Her body was practically vibrating with tension, her mind screaming at her to step back, to walk away, to be professional. But the way you were looking at her? The way your lips were just close enough to kiss?

She was this close to giving in.

“Sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice husky and low as her hand finally dropped from your wrist. But instead of stepping back, her fingers brushed against your waist, her touch light but burning through the thin fabric of your skirt.

“Yeah, Ms Schemmenti?” you whispered, your voice dripping with sugar, but your eyes? Oh, your eyes were full of heat.

Melissa’s gaze flickered to your lips, her resolve cracking, her breath hitching...

“Melissa!”

The voice snapped through the tension like a bucket of cold water.

Melissa jerked back, her hand dropping away from you so fast it was like she’d been burned.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, her face flushing as she turned to see Barbara waving her over.

“Looks like the drill’s over,” Barbara called, giving Melissa a look that was way too knowing. “We’re headin’ back inside.”

Melissa nodded stiffly, her jaw clenched as she tried to regain her composure.

But you?

Oh, you were smirking.

“Guess we’ll have to finish this later, huh?” you murmured softly, your voice dripping with mischief as you brushed past her, your body just grazing against hers as you sauntered back toward the building.

Melissa didn’t move.

She just stood there, her jaw clenched, her body still on fire, and her mind screaming one thing over and over again:

I am so fucked.

[emoisthenewemu]

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

VIDEO GAMES

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

TOGE INUMAKI X F! READER SMAU

pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt9

A/N: THERE IS TEXT AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS CHAPTER!! Hehe also now that we are all cutesy and established are we ready for some ANGST.

Pt.8 “Red Flags”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

When the two of you get back to your room on the last night of the mission, it is nearly one in the morning. You’re drenched in sweat, and blood, and dirt. Inumaki’s throat feels like sandpaper, he’s gone through both of his throat medicine bottles and has yet to feel better. Ijichi stops to get the two of you some food on the way back and even then you can only stomach about half of it. Both of your bodies feel so exhausted-like they might just fall apart. But you limp back to your rooms without a word-assuring the man who doubles as your guardian for the time being that neither of your wounds are serious. Just a few bruises and bumps, nothing both of you were unable to handle by this point.

The room is silent as you step inside, it seems the both of you have the same idea-stumbling for clothes and a towel. You almost run in to each other trying to get to the bathroom.

“Tuna mayo” He gestures his head towards the door.

Go ahead

“Thanks” You smile before disappearing into the bathroom.

He does not want to get the bedsheets dirty so he sits on the floor, scrolling through his phone as he waits for you to finish. He ignores the ache throughout his body.

When it is his turn to shower the only thing he can focus on is the sweet smell that invades his nostrils. The scent of your fruity soap and shampoo. Even as he uses his own products-the only thing he can smell is you. Maybe it’s your lotion too, everything just smells so good.

Coming out of the shower he is surprised to find you sitting on his bed, looking at videos on your phone. Your wet hair is neatly braided, a fresh face although there are noticeable bags under your eyes. In baggy pajama pants and an oversized Leon Kennedy T shirt. You smile so kindly at him he might melt.

“Sorry, I wanted to wait for you! Let’s watch some TikToks before we go to sleep” He just stares for a while, stuck in place like a statue. “It’s okay if you don’t want to….I’m sure you’re probably tired!”

“Bonito flakes!” He shakes his head and sits next to you, trying to get comfortable but he’s far too worried about accidentally touching your body in any way. You notice of course, he looks so stiff and awkward with the way he cranes his neck to watch the shitty minecraft parkour over reddit stories.

No! I want to

“You can come closer, you know? I don’t bite”

So he does and he swears every single system in his body shuts down when you slightly rest your head on his shoulder so he can see better. You try not to overstep, but at the same time you want him to be comfortable. As comfortable as you are right now.

“Tuna mayo”

I do

If only he could actually joke around with you. You would think he’s so funny.

He notices the way your eyes begin to close, the way the grip you have on your phone loosens over time. When you fall asleep on him he is certain he might die.

But he doesn’t move for the longest time, not even when he begins to grow uncomfortable in his position or when his arm starts to hurt. He looks at you, he hopes you don’t wake up and think he’s a total fucking creep for watching you sleep.

But you look so peaceful. He did not realize the perpetual furrow in your brow until he saw you asleep. This is what you look like when you have nothing to worry about.

He brushes a piece of hair behind your ear, his touch lingers for a while. And then he catches himself-its’s three o’clock in the morning and he is sitting in complete silence staring at you-a person he swears is just his friend.

Sure he finds you pretty. And funny. And smart. And talented. But now is not the time for such things.

So why does his chest feel so heavy? What is this stupid sickly feeling in his stomach.? He thinks about if his friends are really telling the truth when they say you like him back. Wondering if they are just being supportive in his delusions-he would do it if he were in their shoes.

His questions are unanswered as he stands up and covers you up with the blanket, shutting off your phone and putting it beside you. He makes his way to the other side of the room, even though that’s technically his side you are sleeping on. He will allow it.

Maybe he should have just slept there too and pretended it was on accident. But he would hate to embarrass you. Or make you feel uncomfortable in any way so he sleeps in your bed, better than he has slept in weeks.

The pillows smell like you.

[ariseur]

Hii omg!! I love ur works so much they're so AAAAA!!! I was wondering if I could request a vergil fic where reader is like the exact opposite of vergil.. Reader is hyperfem and kinda outgoing!!

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

the sweet scent of metal and mucus.

vergil tips his head back, small pants slipping past his lips and mingling with the cool air as it forms a puff of vapor; yamato still gripped in one hand. splotches of crimson and crystallized blood adorning the blade.

red crucigers litter the ground along with a demon head, splatters across the ground and settles in the pavement until it eventually crusts and fades away. a leather clad hand comes to scrub at his face before his head lolls back down and goes to sheath his sword.

it’s almost a little peaceful, even while his boots are scuffed and sticky with blood. the hissing of chimeras and other phantasmas still echo in the air as he walks over to you — and he quirks a brow at the sight. your lips curled in a bright grin with your weapon already sheathed yet he takes note of the blood around you too.

“that was,” you blink, and vergil swears you have stars in your eyes when he looks at you. he cocks his head in anticipation, before you bring your clap your hands together and squeal, “so cool!”

he huffs, another puff of vapor. he brushes past you and walks back over to wherever, his footsteps careful and precise as he steps over a leg.

(you notice the way he subconsciously slows from his natural stride, you don’t point it out.)

“you were like wham! and then i saw you take out your sword and it was just like shiing!” you rattled, spewing out onomatopoeias as you recapped the battle back to him. he scoffed, an amalgamated noise between amusement and annoyance — he could never tell with you.

vergil glanced back at you, silver eyes trained on the way your hands moved to mimic his movements, before your own pair darted towards his and you mumbled a quick, “right, vergil?”

his eyes flickered towards the puff of mist that swirled at your words, disappearing as quickly as he saw it. he wonders if it’d taste as metallic as what was on his blade, watching the way your bottom lip was chewed at.

locked on for a moment, he didn’t answer; until he settled for a small huff as he faced forward again.

“yes, i’m sure i went. .” he paused. you held your breath with a wide grin, a bemused quirk ghosting at his lips. “whoosh,” he ends.

you zip around vergil, letting out soft laughs as you recount the battle once more and talking about how, ‘you wish you were as cool as him.’ he pretends not to pay much mind, his eyes either trained on where his feet land or straight ahead to where he’s going. the handle of his weapon cold and the warmth instead cultivates in the palm of his hand for once, a foreign feeling.

“man, i can only imagine what dante’s gonna look like when i tell him about this,” you scoff. glimmers of sunset bleed past the buildings of the city and glare upon the two of you. a warmth overcomes vergil much to his annoyance.

he scoffs even further at the mention of his idiotic twin brother. “the fool,” he mutters.

“you love him,” you retort, stretching your arms over your head. bones aching til they finally relieve the sweet tendrils that hook onto them, a comfort spreading through your limbs as you sigh and put your arms down. “you guys just have a weird way of showing it.”

“how presumptuous,” he says. he finally faces you, suppressing the oncoming eye roll when he already sees the teasing tilt of your head.

“is it?”

“it is.”

you hum, stuffing your hands in your pockets, thumbing at the newfound lint before plucking it out and throwing it away. “i think you’re maybe a little jealous, verg.”

“of what?” he asks, almost a little too quickly. he could swear your eyes light up at his slip-up, before your lips instead aim for a much more smug grin as you turn away.

“ah, you know,” he quirks a brow at your pause. “my totally awesome skills.”

a pause.

“. . . what?” the way it slips past his lips is almost incredulous. first, you waltz into his life with your frilly outfits and weapon scabbards adorning ‘cutesy’ charms (he gags at the word) and now you have the audacity to say he’s jealous?

his lips curl up into a half-smile at your lax demeanor, one with an uncharacteristic mirth. you feign a yawn, waving a hand to dismiss him with a cocky, “yeah, it’s okay. i get it.”

oh, and that was his final straw.

within the blink of an eye, the distance between you was bridged and, in an inexplicable amount of time you can’t even comprehend, vergil grabbed your blade out of its holster and examined it as he appeared on the other side of you.

brows furrowed for a second, a sense of surprise smooths over the contours of your face before you whip around to face him.

“hey!”

“are you sure of your skills?” he asks, unsheathing your weapon to inspect the metal closer. “this is quite an. . interesting sword, to say the least.”

your hand reaches out to try and grab at it, and yet he’s too swift; turning at the last second just to keep you out of reach of it.

stormy eyes flicker with an amusing curiosity as he squints even further.

“and what a colorful bow you have on the hilt.”

“vergil.”

[ynnova]

( OCTOBER LOVERS. ) jongho x ninth member!f!reader ✶ poly!ateez

──── you tell your youngest boyfriend happy birthday.

2024 ୨୧ word count : 809 ୨୧ warnings : jongho calls yn "noona", slight make out ୨୧ mdni

you loved celebrating birthdays with your boyfriends. especially when it came to their birthdays. you loved buying presents for them and then watching them open them. loved singing to them and posting photos that you had long stashed away on your phone, just waiting to be used to both embarrass and show love to your boyfriends.

"jjongie!" you say coming into the youngest's hotel room, gift bag in hand. you round the corner to see jongho standing at the edge of his bed, clothes spread out on his bed. your boyfriend turns to look at you as you walk over to him, his familiar smile gracing his lips.

"hi, noona," he says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him.

"are you picking out an outfit for dinner later?" you ask, looking over his choices he had laid out in front of the two of you. along with all the other birthday celebration stuff the nine of you do, you all also always make sure to go out and eat and just spend time to unwind together.

"yeah, i'm just trying to see which shirt i like better," he says and you let out a small hum in acknowledgement. "what do you think?"

you looked over his option that laid on the bed. most of the options were black, as was the majority of his clothes. but then your eyes landed on the black and white, short sleeve button-up shirt that he bought a few months ago.

"that one, and you need a black shirt underneath it," you tell him as you lean over to touch the shirt you were talking about. "i like when you wear it," you add as you turn to look at jongho who was watching you.

"okay, then i'll that then," he says and you smile in response. "oh, also what did you need?" he asks, suddenly remembering that you came in here for something other than helping him pick a shirt out.

"i wanted to give you your present," you say, holding up the small, blue bag in between you and the younger male. you watch his eyes widen in surprise as he gently takes the bag from you. "go ahead and open it," you tell him, excited but also nervous for him to open his gift. "i hope you like it, baby."

"i always love your gifts, noona," he says as he opens the bag and looks inside. you watch his eyes widen a little bit before he's reaching in and pulling out his present.

a bear keychain that you had crocheted yourself.

you remember working on it months ago during tour. you had found the design on pinterest and from there you had tried several times to recreate it. finally, you were able to crochet it to where you were satisfied and knew jongho would like it.

"i know keychains aren't totally your thing but–

"i love it," he cuts you off as he holds it in his palm, using his finger to feel the small bear. you swear you saw some sort of sparkle in his eyes the longer he looked at it. "did you make it?" he asks after a few moments, looking over to you.

"i did," you say, feeling a little shy at admitting that you made it. you took a step towards him, hand coming up to touch the small bear yourself as you added, "i wanted to give you something handmade and i had found a similar keychain online and knew that it was perfect for you."

"it is, you did a good job," he says, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. you; however, cup his cheek and bring him back to give him a kiss on his lips. jongho couldn't help but lean into the kiss, pressing his lips more firmly against yours as his hands wrap around your waist.

you definitely kissed longer than you had originally planned, but you weren't complaining. jongho's lips were just so soft as they moved against yours. finally, you pulled away from the kiss and couldn't help the small laugh as he attempted to follow your lips.

"don't worry, jjongie, i can give you another kiss after dinner," you say, hand coming up to play with his hair. "i unfortunately have to go get ready for dinner myself," you tell him and the pout on his lips alone makes you want to kiss him again... and maybe some other things too.

however, you give in and give him one more kiss breathing a light, "happy birthday, my love," before you pull away and make your way over to the door. you blow your boyfriend one last kiss before you're leaving his hotel room and skipping down the hallway back to your own.

you'll definitely have to give him something extra later.

note: what i think the keychain you made jongho looks like

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Pretty Girl part 3

part 1 || part 2 || part 4

|| Regina George x fem!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, house party, drunk reader and other characters, guy flirting with reader, jealous regina, hinted at hookups

|| Summary; regina drags reader to a house party. Things take an... unexpected turn. Hopefully for the better?

Requests open!

Started; october 2nd

Finished; october 3rd

~~~

The ride to the party felt like it took forever (totally not because it took me so long to make this...) when you finally got there; you practically jumped out of the car. Excitement and nervousness hitting you like a bus as you got a glimpse at your first ever house party. Shane's house wasn't anything too insane, not compared to Regina's at least but it was nice. Definitely a house used for parties.

The five of you made your way in, Regina walking a little ahead of everyone else. When you stepped into the house, she took your hand and lead you through the crowds. Making sure you were always close to her. She wasn't taking her chances tonight.

She lead you around some corners and halls until you reached the kitchen. Regina looked at you, seemingly studying you," what kind of drink would you like?"

Truthfully, you'd never really tried anything before. So you shrugged," I dunno, surprise me- but something light?"

Regina turned her focus back to the fridge. Moving some cans aside to get a good look at what all they had. She found her preference, then grabbed something she thought you might like and tossed it to you without warning. You fumbled the can, then it hit the ground with a thud that made you flinch and Regina laugh.

"How cute, you're not even drunk and you're already clumsy as shit." Her teasing was lighthearted, you could just tell in her tone. It was different from how she talked to others. It always was.

You gave her an eye roll as you bent down to grab the can, though your foot accidentally kicked it and made it roll.

"Great." You muttered under your breath, she laughed again as she watched it start to roll away.

"Better go get it, before someone else does." She continued to tease you over your situation; making your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Of course you would make a fool of yourself at your first house party.

You followed after the can, it reached the start of a crowd before you were able to pick it up. A guy bumped into you and winked when he saw you kneeling to the ground.

"Damn, girl." He called out with a whistle, earning a groan and another eye roll from you.

What you've learnt; parties are not your scene. Drinks aren't for you and the people at the parties definitely are not either.

"Leave me alone," You replied, starting to make your way back to the kitchen when he grabbed your shoulder and pulled you close.

"But why? You looked like you could use some company." You could feel his breath against your ear, sending an uncomfortable shiver through your whole body.

"She already has company, dipshit." Regina stood barely a few inches from you, arms folded with an intense glare in her eyes. You could feel the guy release your shoulder," I'm feeling nice tonight, so I won't do anything. But if you so much as touch her again-"

"Regina, I'm okay." You assured her, not wanting her to fight yet another guy for your sake. As hot as it was the first time back in the cafeteria, you really didn't want to cause a scene.

Her eyes snapped to you and you could just barely hear her huff," fine." Taking your hand in a fierce grip, she pulled you away to a more secluded spot," You okay? That guy's a dick."

She was softer again, part of you started to wonder something... but that would be impossible, right? Why would Regina George like you?

Her eyes were soft, but with a lingering hint of that glare from before; and you couldn't pull yourself to look away from them. So much so that you'd nearly forgotten the question she asked you," oh- I'm fine. Promise." You stuttered out lamely, she smirked at your stutter.

A little later into the party, Regina was well into her fourth drink while you were only on your second. You were taking things at a much slower pace than she was. The two of you were in the crowd, dancing away and laughing.

Regina couldn't help but stare at you. Your smile, the way your eyes lit up... she was starting to recognize that she was seriously beginning to fall for the pretty girl in front of her. She just hoped that you would be there to catch her.

Her thoughts must've gotten away from her because before she knew it, her lips were on yours. Your body flush against her as she kissed you with a feverish intensity.

The rest of the night was a complete blur to her, too drunk to remember anything that had or hadn't occurred.

There was only one thing she knew for certain; and that's that the following morning... you had ended up in her bed.

~~~

Surprise Pretty Girl update! Happy October 3rd y'all‼️🫶

[hellvst]

OFFSEASON – quinn hughes

featuring ; quinn hughes x fmc (sydney gray)

✮⋆˙ warning & content ; swearing

✮⋆˙ word count ; 4.7k

✮⋆˙ previous chapter – series masterlist – next chapter

a/n ; quinn is playing + canucks won yesterday against la? we are soo back! i kinda forgot to give simon a face claim...oops! but, i did have an idea or picture him to look similar to kevin fiala or roman josi, i just can't find a face claim for him. it's up to your imagination as well! happy reading <3

CHAPTER TWO

SYDNEY

My alarm went off multiple times within the past fifteen minutes, and kept hitting the snooze button each time it did. So much for wanting to wake up early this morning.

I fluttered my eyes open, adjusting to the natural light through the window.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the dull ache in my right leg. It wasn’t a sharp pain–more like a persistent stiffness, reminding me that no matter how much progress I made, and lots of physiotherapy sessions, I wouldn’t always feel one hundred percent.

There was no point in dwelling on it. I had a busy day ahead, and self-pity wasn’t on the agenda. Not today.

I ungracefully got out of bed–did some stretches, single-leg squats, and hopped on one foot.

Nothing some movement wouldn’t fix.

The discomfort usually disappeared once I got my body moving. Truly odd, but if it got me through the day, I was not going to complain.

I moved through my morning routine with muscle memory. A quick shower, skin care, matching black compression set, an oversized hoodie thrown on without much thought, and tied my hair into a ponytail.

By the time I made it to the kitchen, the coffee machine was already doing its magic. As I waited, I flipped the TV on in the living room out of habit as I did every morning. 

The post-game analysis was still running from last night’s Canucks-Oilers’ game. I wasn’t surprised that this was the first thing that popped up on the screen, considering it’s been a while since my hometown, Vancouver, had made a playoff appearance. It was a huge deal for the city.

I caught a whiff of the last few minutes after getting home late from the studio–just in time to witness the whole debacle unfold. 

My brother, Simon, and his teammate.

The miscommunication. The puck hitting the post. The loss.

A blown play that cost them a ticket to conference finals. 

Now, every analyst, reporter, or fan was commenting and dissecting it.

“This was a complete breakdown,” one of the reporters began. “Simon Gray and Quinn Hughes were on totally different pages the entire game. You can’t have your best forward and your top defensemen out of sync in the most important moments–”

I turned the TV off and took a sip of my coffee, already knowing how that played out. My stomach was tightening at the sight of Simon after the buzzer went off.

Before the game, I sent him a short and simple ‘good luck!’, and haven’t heard from him since. Fair enough, given the outcome of the game.

Simon was going to be miserable for days, maybe weeks, more likely the entire summer. My brother was going to be impossible to deal with after that. And if history has taught itself, he was going to blame others for his mistakes. He always did.

I looked at the time, almost choking on my coffee, “Shit.”

I was running late for my first private session of the day, and Phoebe–one of my regular clients–was going to get there before me. Again.

If someone had asked me years ago what I saw myself doing, being a Pilates instructor wouldn’t even make the list. But life has a way of throwing you in places you’d never expect.

It started after the incident, I don’t talk about it much–there was nothing left to say. It happened. It definitely changed things. And for a very long time, I felt lost in my own body, like going through motions without purpose.

Doctors and my physiotherapist gave me exercises, stretches, and a never-ending list of things to “try”. Nothing clicked. Nothing felt right.

Until, I stepped into my first Pilates class. I remembered feeling a bit skeptical at first, convinced it was another trendy workout–the one all the girls tried out. It was the first time in a long time I felt connected to myself again. 

I kept going. I got better. And then I got really good. Good enough that one day, the owner of the studio I’d been training at, pulled me aside and asked if I ever thought about teaching. 

I laughed at the time, but the idea lingered that it stuck. And here I was: an instructor at Lumé Wellness–the top studio branch in Vancouver–fully booked for the summer, doing what I love.

The studio wasn’t that far from my apartment, twenty minutes tops without traffic which most days I was thankful for.

By the time I made it to the studio, sure enough, Phoebe was already inside one of the private rooms, stretching on the mat.

She raised an eyebrow at me as I put my bag down. “Would it kill you to be on time for once?” Phoebe teased, pulling her dark curls into a bun.

I rolled my eyes and started stretching beside her. “It’s five minutes.”

She shrugged and wiggled her brows, “Five minutes that I spent wondering if you were late because a guy kept you up last night.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned with a smile. “Don’t start this again, Phoebe.”

All she did was grin, absolutely delighted at the sight of my suffering. Phoebe was in her late forties, a social butterfly with too much energy for the morning slot, and too much curiosity for her own good. 

Plus the fact she was newly single and thriving in the chaos of her impending divorce, loved to poke at my non-existing dating life. She was a sucker for drama, and if my love life–or lack thereof–could provide her entertainment, she’d without a doubt take it.

“Oh come on, humor me, Syd. There has to be someone,” she said, settling onto the reformer. “You’re giving off the ‘I’m seeing someone new’ glow.”

I scoffed at her. “That ‘glow’ you’re referring to is just the new overhead lighting.”

She snorted then sighed dramatically as I adjusted her stance, “You know, you should really make time for some fun.”

“I have fun.” I argued.

“Pilates and binge-watching The Office at home doesn’t count.”

She got me there.

We continued on with our session. Usually with Phoebe, time flies so fast when all she did was rant about her life–pestering me about mine–but she eventually let it go once we began the harder exercises.

I barely got a moment to breathe before moving on to my bigger group session. To my luck, this group was breeze to get through as they followed my exercises on the reformer with ease. Not to mention, the music blasting through the speakers in the studio allowed them to get into that rhythm which was helpful as well.

Just when the last song ended, the group of ladies’ chests heaved, the room was filled with breaths of exhaustion, and a few went straight for their water bottles.

“Alright, ladies! Great work today! Hope to see you in our next class.”

They all left one by one, saying ‘bye’ on their way out, until I was the only one left.

Two or three classes to teach in the mornings usually had me working around lunch.

And by then, I was starving. 

My routine was pretty much the same, there was not a lot to do with an hour break. But, most days consisted of grabbing a quick meal at the nearest bistro or cafe with my closest friend. As I was about to pick up my things off the floor, my phone in my pocket buzzed.

Speak of the devil herself.

“Hey, Diane,” I answered, tucking my phone in between my ear and shoulder as I packed.

“Are we still on for lunch? I’m already at the café.”

I heard the faint lively sounds of the city of Vancouver in the background. “Yeah, I’m about to leave the studio and make my way–”

“Sydney?”

Right as I was trying to make a beeline to the doors, I turned to see Grace–the owner of the studio–peeking out her office door. My stomach dropped.

“One sec, Di.” I lowered my phone, ending the call. “Everything alright, Grace?”

“Can you step into my office for a minute?”

Fuck. This cannot be good. 

I followed her inside. It was a rare sight to see any of the studio employees in Grace’s office, she usually came to talk to me after my classes, never the other way around.

She never gave off vibes that ever intimidated me. I have never seen her upset with anyone, unless they truly pushed her buttons. The word ‘nervous’ wasn’t enough to express how I was feeling right then and there.

“Have a seat,” she gestured to the empty chair across from her. I gave her a smile, but beneath that was a wave of anxiety washing over me.

I tried to figure out what I might have done wrong. Did someone complain? Did I mix up the schedules or bookings? Did Phoebe finally rat me out for showing up late most of the time? The idea of me getting fired was not on my list of things today.

Grace sat behind her desk, clasping her hands together. “I have some news for you.”

Oh God. This is it. I was getting fired.

“I know your lunch break just started, so I’ll just get straight to it.” Grace had always been forward when she spoke. “There’s an opportunity with the Vancouver Canucks. Their management reached out about a summer cross-training program. They wanted us to coordinate it.”

I blinked at her, “And…?”

“And I told them you’d do it.”

As if my eyes couldn’t get any wider than it was. I stared at her in complete and utter disbelief, waiting for some sort of punchline. “You’re joking.”

Grace smiled, “Nope.”

I would have never imagined she’d say those words. This might be worse than getting fired.

There had been a few occasions when I had worked with soccer clubs, and a few college football players for cross-training. But, I had never done a session with the professional leagues such as the NHL. This was way different.

“Grace, I’m flattered but–” I thought about my words carefully, “I have a full schedule this summer and–”

“I am aware of your busy schedule,” she said, waving a hand. “I already adjusted your schedule accordingly to accommodate for this.”

Of course she did..

I opened my mouth, then closed it. This conversation was already headed towards the direction I dreaded. “There are other instructors here that I think are more qualified–who have worked in this studio for much longer that are more deserving for this job.”

Grace raised a brow at me, “Do you think I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think you were more than qualified?”

Shit. I had that coming. I basically dug that hole myself. 

I stayed silent for my own good, Grace knew she was right and she sighed. 

“They want you,” she said simply.

“What? Why?”

I answered a bit too quickly, unknowingly raising my voice an octave or two. I shift in my chair, clearing my throat having just panicked in front of my boss.

“Well, given that you have a good background on hockey, I thought you were perfect for the position. Not to mention that their head coach, Rick Tocchet, had also referred to you. And if it helps, it’s not the entire team you will train with. Just two of their players.” Her lips twitched as she leaned in her seat. “One of them being your brother.”

My stomach twisted. I should have seen this from a mile away. Why didn’t I make that connection instantly right when she said ‘Vancouver Canucks’?

After all, my older brother Simon was one of the top forwards for the team.

Although, he may be my family and I would do anything for him–I wouldn’t train him or anyone on his team for that matter. Hockey was Simon’s thing, and I had my own so we stayed out of each other’s lane. And we like to keep it that way.

Plus, I wasn’t all that into men that played hockey. They weren’t my go-to type. But, I would be lying to myself if I didn't think there were some head-turners, but nothing too crazy of the sort. I have never dated a hockey guy.

I blinked, tapping out of my short trance. My brain was processing the fact that I was going to spend all summer with my brother and his teammate. 

Which led me to another question for Grace. 

“So, if I’m training my brother–” I said, dragging out the last word. “–who is the other?”

She took a moment before she replied, “Quinn Hughes.”

That brought me to a full stop. What?

My eyes were nothing but bloodshot, “Quinn Hughes?” There was absolutely no hiding my distraught expression, even if I tried my hardest to contain it. “That’s asking for the impossible, Grace. It would take a miracle for those two to work together.”

Shocked doesn’t even begin to cover what I was feeling.

Simon hated Quinn Hughes. I have spent the last few years listening to him ranting about how Quinn came in a year after he was drafted and ‘ruined’ everything–climbing the ranks, breaking franchise records as a defensemen, and taking the spotlight. 

I never truly understood the obsession. Simon had never acted this way growing up, especially towards another teammate. Now, he’s spent years resenting Quinn, blaming him for everything that has gone wrong in his career. I have asked multiple times specifically why he hated him so much, all I got was some half-assed answer.

And I’ve never met the guy, but from what I’ve seen, he seems alright.

“Your job is to make sure they don’t kill each other,” Grace continued. “I told Rick Tocchet you’d do it. And of course, you will be paid. More importantly, the Canucks’ are willing to invest in our studio. We’re growing and this would help fund more studios to expand, Sydney.”

Wow. It would be a great deal for Lumé Wellness now that I think about it. After adding the brand new Pilates reformers and more intensive sessions, our class attendances shot through the roof. The space in our studio was limited and we were growing in numbers as waitlists were piling up. 

What kind of Pilates instructor would I be if I didn’t want that for the studio?

I exhaled a sigh, “What about the media? They will be a problem–”

“We will handle it,” Grace cut me off. “After what happened last night, there’s no doubt that the press will track two of their star players’ moves throughout the summer. That’s why Rick, the Canuck’s team, and I will ensure that we will keep the training sessions on the down-low to prevent the media from talking.” 

That reassured me to an extent, but I was still skeptical. This was a bad idea.

It was easy to figure out why this arrangement was set in the first place. Those two, especially my brother, needed to stop acting like children and start acting like grown adults. Play like real professional hockey players. 

After the loss last night, it was only a matter of time when their team did something about it. I was surprised that it took them long enough. A few years ago, I wondered why they hadn't forced them to be stranded on an island together. Maybe surviving off an island together surely would have allowed them to work together at least.

The look in Grace’s eyes were telling me that there was no way out of this. Even if I came up with more excuses or tried to find a replacement, her (and apparently Rick Tocchet) mind was already made up.

I leaned back in my chair, my head was spinning in constant circles. “Is there any way for me to get out of this?”

“No.”

Damn. A complete shut down.

“Of course not,” I mumbled.

She gave me a knowing look, “Everything will be fine, that I can assure you, Sydney. Sessions will begin in two weeks.”

And just like that, my fate was sealed. Great.

I nodded my head as Grace dismissed me out of her office, gave her a small wave. I stepped out of the studio, took a deep breath trying to process what just happened in the last few minutes. I still couldn’t believe it.

My phone went off. Four missed calls and numerous text messages from Diane.

I called her back, and the second she picked up, she was already yelling. “Where the hell are you?”

A dull throb in my temple ached. “I got held up, I’ll be there in ten.”

“What happened?”

I sighed and began walking down the sidewalk. “You’re never going to believe me if I told you.”

The café was already packed by the time I got there, the low hum of conversation blending with the clinking of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine.

I spotted Diane almost immediately, she sat by the window, with a half-eaten bagel and small bits of crumbs on the table. She glanced up just as I approached her and instantly raised a brow.

“You’re late,” she said, pointing at me with her bagel in hand. “Again.”

“Sorry, I got held up.” I told her as I dropped into the chair across from her.

She playfully scoffed and held up her now empty cup, “Enough that I already finished one latte.” She smirked before setting it down. “Alright, spill. What was so important that you hung up on me and left me hanging here?”

“Grace.”

Diane’s eyes widened at that. She knew how rare it was for me–or anyone in the studio– to get caught up in Grace’s hair to get sent to her office. There were only good things I have told Diane about my boss over the years. Like the time she gave all the studio employees a gift certificate to the infamous spa in the north side of the city. It was generous of her, but it was quite expensive.

I took a deep breath before explaining to my friend of my new summer plans. Having to say it all out loud made me realize how real this was. It was going to happen and I wasn’t just dreaming in that office.

“Wait. I’m sorry, what?” Diane nearly choked on her coffee.

“Yep,” I popped the ‘p’, and nodded at her. “You heard me.”

For a split second, there was silence. 

Her face lit up accompanied with a squeal. Oh no. Here we go.

Diane’s expression was something between shock and excitement, “Syd, are you serious? That’s freaking nuts!” Unaware of her volume, she earned the glances of other customers in the café. We were both quick to give them apologetic nods. She leaned closer across the table, her voice quieter this time, “That’s huge, Syd!”

I scoffed, “I wouldn’t call it that.”

Diane grinned, “Are you kidding? You get to train professional athletes. NHL players. Do you know how many people would kill for that opportunity?”

She was right. It’s not everyday that you get to work with athletes in the big leagues. Anyone in the studio could have easily taken this job and taken the news a lot more lightly and professionally than I did. But no, oddly enough I didn’t have any other choice or say in the decision.

I shook my head at her, slumping into my seat. “It’s not that simple.”

Diane tilted her head as if I grew another pair of eyes, “What’s not simple about that? You get to train with your brother and I don’t think that’s all too difficult, right? Shouldn’t it be easier since he is your brother?”

As much as I loved my brother, we liked keeping our lives separate from each other. He had his career, and I had mine. Not saying that I wasn’t proud of him or embarrassed that my brother was one of the hockey stars in the league. I was very proud that he achieved his dreams, why wouldn’t I be? I just liked supporting him from the sidelines. 

“Me and Simon are close but–” I paused, tracing the rim of my coffee cup with my finger. “We don’t mix our careers or get involved in each other’s business. Now, I’m being thrown right into it and it just…complicates things.”

Diane watched me carefully, “Is that really a bad thing?”

I hesitated before answering her. “I’ve never really been a part of his hockey world, this was totally unexpected. Hell, I don’t even know if he knows about it. He hasn’t texted me since yesterday before the game.” 

“Okay, so you’re only training your brother. Big deal. It’s not like you’re training with the whole team.” She waved a hand, acting like that was the only issue I was dealing with.

I shot her a look, I accidentally left out a big piece of information while explaining to her.

“And Quinn Hughes,” I added flatly.

Diane’s jaw dropped to the floor, “Wait–Quinn Hughes? As in, the captain of the team and the best defensemen in the league ‘Quinn Hughes’?”

As far as hockey goes for Diane, she had no interest in the sport, unless there was eye-candy on the team. When it came down to the NHL, the only names she was familiar with were the ‘good-looking’ guys, my brother, and Quinn Hughes. 

I nodded, then took a quick sip of my coffee, “Apparently, my job is to make sure they don’t kill each other during the summer.”

“Wow. That’s definitely…something.”

“Exactly.” I crossed my arms. “I barely know Quinn. But, Simon? He’s been going off about the guy for years. And now I’m supposed to train them. Together? That’s a shitshow waiting to happen.”

Diane shrugged her shoulders, looking at me thoughtfully. “Or maybe it’s an opportunity.”

My brow raised at that, “To do what? Watch my brother have a meltdown? Yeah, no thanks.” 

“But–”

I groaned, “Diane.”

She was teasing, and she never fails to get away with it. “I’m just saying, maybe this isn’t the worst thing. You’ll be challenged. You’ll make new connections. And–” She paused. “Who knows, this might just be the most interesting thing going for you right now since the accident–nevermind, sorry.”

Ouch. That stung.

But, Diane was right. As much as I’d like to think that my life was perfect and everything was going the right places, deep down, I knew it wasn’t. Ever since I got hurt and went through months of recovering, the course of direction my life was heading towards took a hard turn.

Now, I have ended up here. But, I wasn’t not grateful as things could have been worse, very worse. Over the years, I had to learn how to go with the flow and accept it.

I knew she didn’t mean to say that with bad intentions. Diane always wanted what was best for me, and I was glad that she felt that way since I would do the same with her. She was my longest friend for as long as I could remember.

She gave me an apologetic smile, “If anything, maybe your brother can introduce you to his teammates or–”

I playfully shook my head, then stood up with my empty cup in my hands. “I’m getting more coffee.”

She laughed, “Fine. But, I am not done talking about this.”

I gave her a look over my shoulder before heading over to the front counter. The café was even busier now, and I had to squeeze past a few people waiting for their orders. I handed my cup to the barista, tapping my fingers against the counter as I waited.

Diane’s words lingered in my head. Maybe this was a big opportunity, Maybe I was overreacting. But there was still that anxious feeling in my stomach, my subconscious telling me that I was not ready for this.

The barista handed me the the refilled cup, and I turned back towards our table–

Only to be met with a sudden, solid force.

The next thing I knew, the warmth of hot coffee spilled down the front of my hoodie. I sucked in a sharp breath as the heat seared against my skin right through the fabric. “Fuck!”

The impact rattled me, as I staggered back, barely managing to keep hold of the cup and maintaining my balance. I looked down at the damage, dark brown stains spread across the pale gray fabric.

I clenched my jaw. Just perfect. 

“Shit, I–”

I glanced up, ready to give whoever it was a piece of my fucking mind and–

I froze. No, it can’t be.

Quinn fucking Hughes.

Stood right in front of me, low and behold, looked just as surprised as I did.

Up close, he was taller than I expected–maybe I was just short– lean but solid, his broad shoulders filling out his fitted black hoodie effortlessly. His dark hair was slightly tousled under his hat; damp at the ends like he’d just finished practice or a workout, and completely blended with the crowd of people as if he wasn’t one of the biggest NHL players in the league.

I blinked, my brain lagging for a second. I’ve seen him on TV, many times before, in clips that Simon had angrily sent me after a few bad games, but seeing him up close was different. Very different.

He had his own unique attractiveness, I won’t lie. He had the light scruffy stubble around his jaw–sharp jawline, and piercing green eyes that made him look intense, but there was a softness in the way that he blinked at me, momentarily thrown off.

What was he doing here of all places?

He didn’t seem to realize that I wasn’t saying anything and ran a hand through his hair, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I, uh–” He hesitated, looking vaguely horrified at the sight of my hoodie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t paying attention.”

I exhaled through my nose, forcing myself to calm down despite the feeling of coffee soaking into my hoodie. “Yeah, no kidding.”

 He pulled a handful of napkins from the counter and offered them to me, “Here.”

“Thanks.” I took them from his grasp and attempted to clean the stain, knowing it wouldn’t do much but tried anyway. 

“I can buy you another one,” Quinn offered, nodding towards the counter. “Or, at least a new hoodie?

I shook my head, frustrated that the napkins were making my hoodie worse. “I don’t need anything from an NHL player, alright–”

Oh shit. My eyes widened as soon as the words slipped from my mouth. 

That caught him off guard, and so had I.

Quinn’s expression lit up and brows furrowed instantly at that, curiosity flashing in his eyes. “So, you know who I am?”

“Yes, I do.” I said in a tone indicating that it wasn’t a good thing. 

He studied me for a moment. Probably thinking that I was a hockey fan or whatnot.

“Can I at least get your name or number?” He paused, scrambling to rephrase what his intentions were behind that question. “To replace your hoodie or pay for dry cleaning, anything to fix what I caused.”

He sounded pretty genuine and his intentions were nothing but pure, hopefully.

I gave him a look, “I’m not making you buy me a hoodie. I can take care of this–” I looked down at the mess. “–myself. So, I think I’ll respectfully pass up on that offer of yours.”

As I was about to turn my back on him, his fingers found the material of my sleeve, and swiftly pulled me back. “Hey look, I’d feel really bad if I left here without making it up to you.”

“Oh, really?” 

He only nodded, which amused me.

“I think I can survive without your help, but thanks.”

Quinn’s lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but thought the better of it before I turned around.

I felt his eyes linger on me as soon as I made my way back to Diane. She watched the whole thing and she looked like she was about to lose her damn mind once I sat down.

I glanced over my shoulder back to where Quinn stood. I was so lost in that interaction that I hadn’t noticed two other of his Canuck buddies were standing behind him. I watched them laughing–most likely teasing him–about what they witnessed. Great, that was just great.

“What the actual fuck just happened, Syd?” 

I wish I knew.

all rights reserved © 2025 hellvst. please do not copy, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[touchtheinvisiblestars]

Imagine Benny when you run into your ex

Part 2 of Imagine Benny when you come to him for help. This ran away with me a bit. Hope you enjoy!

***

The crowd cheered him on. As he did a victory lap of the ring. Arm held up signaling he had won the fight. Fourth match in a row, he was on fire.

As he slowed to a stop he saw you, clapping your hands and cheering him on. The biggest smile on your face.

You couldn't believe it. He was on the best winning streak. On such a high that the last match he won, he'd found you in the crowd and pulled you in for the most intense kiss of your life. Leaving you breathless and suitably rosy in the cheeks.

Blowing you a kiss, you reached out a caught it. Placing a hand over your heart.

Months had passed since you came to him at that ungodly hour and fixed you up. Bruises had faded and aches long since disappeared, as you now had a warm fuzzy feeling that followed you around daily. Paired with the ocean eyes and strong arms that were continually showing you how you were supposed to be treated.

The sound in the room was deafening, a cacophany of cheers and celebration. As bets were won and drinks were shared.

Grinning over at Benny you watched as he was awarded his trophy.

"You know he says he's winning cause of you" His brother leaned down and shouted over the noise.

"Really?"

"Yeah, says you're his good luck charm."

You smiled at the thought.

"I'm gonna go grab a drink. Did you want one?"

"I'm good, driving remember?"

Will nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

Someone tapped you on the arm and you turned to see who it was. Your smile dropped instantly as you saw who it was.

"Adam." Your blood ran cold and you froze.

"Good to see you Y/N. Having fun are we?"

"I-"

You felt your adrenaline spike and you began to tremble, totally on edge trying to figure out how this was going to play out.

You stole a glance to the ring to see Benny deep in conversation with his opponent. Smiles on their faces as they conversed.

"Not got anything to say? That's rich. You always had so much to answer back with before."

"That's before you turned into a raging psycho and tried to kill me."

"Watch your fucking mouth. I'm not afraid of him. You think I'm put off by the fact he knows how to throw a punch?"

"What do you want?"

"Haven't decided yet. I'm just waiting for him to notice me right now."

"I'm not playing this game with you, I know what you're doing." You went to walk away but we're yanked back by an eye watering grip on your wrist.

"I told you to watch your mouth." He snarled in your ear.

Shuddering at the feeling, you tried to tug your arm out of Adams grip. Him just squeezing harder at your struggle.

"Let me-" You started but two large hands ripped him away from you and you jumped at the sudden action. Benny grabbed hold of his collar and slammed him into the side of the ring. Pinning him in place. Placing himself in between the two of you. Frozen in shock you didn't move for a moment.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Don't you ever touch her again. I swear to god." Benny yelled.

The room fell silent. All eyes on Benny and Adam.

Adam just laughed, "sure go ahead. Ruin your career right here and now."

You rushed over to them, grabbing onto Benny.

"He's not worth it Ben. Let go." You pleaded your voice hushed. Hand wrapped around his tense bicep. "Don't do this now. Don't throw everything you've worked for away. He knows what he's doing. That's why he came here."

"Benny!" Will shouted, appearing behind you in an instant, he grabbed onto Ben and yanked him off Adam.

You stood in front of Benny, trying to get his attention as he stared Adam down.

Looking back at Adam who had barely moved, a smug grin on his face, "Ben, I'm okay. Please lets get out of here."

Snapping out of it, Benny shook Will off him, "I'm good. I'm not going to touch him."

He grabbed your hand and you walked with him. Weaving through the crowd that had been captivated by the scene. Down into the backroom area, where the locker rooms were.

"Ben you can't just do that. I won't have you fuck up your career just because of him." You spoke up as you followed him into the locker room.

"Y/Ns right. Benny that could have gone so wrong." Will backed you up.

"I know! I just saw him with his hands on you and I saw red."

"Wait, what? What happened? I walked back in and just saw you grabbing him." Will questioned you both.

"He came over to me as you walked away to get a drink. We had a very short conversation and I told him I wasn't going to play the game he wants to and tried to walk away."

"That's when I saw him, he like yanked her back to him and I just saw red. He has no right to be near you, let alone touch you like that." Benny took over while he unwrapped his knuckles.

"He did it on purpose in a room full of people to try and get you to fuck up. Sneaky fucking bastard." Will growled, slamming a locker door. The sound echoed around you.

Benny hadn't taken his eyes off you. "Are you okay?"

"No I'm not. No one saw it but you. So it's my word against his. My wrist hurts. I don't know what to do cause I don't think he's not going to stop."

Bennys shoulders visibly relaxed at your panicked rambling. Dropping the wraps in his duffel bag, he moved towards you. Pulling you to him and hugging you. Knowing you needed his comfort more than his protection right now.

"Benny, I'm going to go wait by the truck. I'll see you guys in a bit."

You felt him nod against you, and you heard the sound of Wills boots fade as he walked down towards the car park.

[elliesfavbae]

Summer camps and dead mouses, Part 2 SERIES

Summer camp with enemies to lovers Ellie Williams

part 1, part 3, part 4, final part (5)

synopsis: This summer, you go to a summer camp for the first time. You've met so many new people, but one of them stands out for being a total jerk. Unfortunately for you, you run into each other all the time. Is that just a coincidence?

pairing: mean!Ellie Williams x reader

warnings: use of y/n, Ellie is still a bitch, swearing

wc:4000

Ellie is crouching ahead, probably tying her shoe, just a few feet in front of you. She hasn’t noticed you yet. You sneak up slowly from behind, almost there... And then you step on a dry stick buried in the grass.

A crack echoes in the surroundings. Ellie turns around in less than a second. She stands up and reaches over for your lanyard, but you're quick too. You deftly avoid her grasp, spin around, and start to run. A plan forms in your head. You notice her chasing you—perfect.

You dash towards the main building, bypassing the main door for the entrance to the basement, hoping it’s empty. Luckily, it’s unlocked. You silently thank Olivia for showing you this route earlier.

Of course, Ellie is still in pursuit. She rushes through the door behind you.

The room isn't large, rectangular with a shelf in the middle. You sprint to the end of the basement, hiding behind the big shelf while Ellie positions herself on the opposite side.

“What’s your plan now, hm?” she says with a smirk, raising her eyebrows.

You catch your breath. "Well, we’ll find out who’s more agile."

A while passes before Ellie decides to rush towards you, and you start running away from her. Suddenly, you turn around, hoping to catch her off guard.

But she’s ready. She tries to grab your name tag, but you manage to grab both of her arms. She falls onto you and you both collapse to the floor. She lies on top of you, momentarily still, seemingly processing what just happened. You continue holding onto her arms, feeling the tension in her muscles beneath your fingers. Unfortunately, this distracts you from everything else. It’s as if the world stops for a moment. You feel her heavy breathing on your face, so close to yours. Her hair falls onto your face and—snap. Ellie takes advantage of your distraction and tears the name tag off your lanyard.

You look up at her; she’s wearing that familiar smirk again.

“Bitch,” you murmur under your breath. She’s still lying on you and clearly hears it, raising her eyebrows, still smiling.

She gets up from the ground, and so do you.

“Got any more tags?” She reaches out her hand.

“No,” you roll your eyes.

“Shouldn’t have challenged me if you couldn’t keep up.”

“I would’ve caught you if you—” You don’t finish the sentence out loud. “—if you weren’t so... attractive,” you conclude in your thoughts. You cringe; it sounds cheesy even inside of your head.

“If I what?” She asks, playing with your name tag. “Whatever. You better stay away from me next time; you’re honestly pissing me off,” she sighs as she heads for the exit without looking back at you once.

She closes the squeaking door. You leave the basement soon after. A campfire awaits near the main square for those who lost. You drag your feet towards it, anger filling you. It’s not just about losing the game; it’s about Ellie, her attitude. She’s so proud and haughty, you wish you could wipe that smirk off her face one day. 

And the fall? Her body on top of yours? Did she do that on purpose? What? Of course not, why would she? Or maybe? You saw her being quite successful with the counselor earlier…  A flood of questions occupies your mind. You can’t help but replay the moment one last time, still feeling her hands on yours and yours on her arms. Her heavy breath hitting your forehead and auburn strands of hair falling on your cheeks. Snap out of it, you tell yourself. You still dislike her, especially when you replay all those moments when she acted like a bitch—and there are so many, even though you’ve only known her for two days.

You arrive at the campfire and notice all your roommates are already seated. Actually, a lot of people are here. Maybe watching the sunset took longer than you thought.

You sit next to friends from your cabin and sigh. The warm flames nicely warm your body.

“Y/n, you died too? Well, at least you were the last of us,” Emma, one of your roommates, points out.

“Yeah, I guess. But the way I died was so embarrassing,” you groan.

“Why, what happened?”

“Do you guys know Ellie?” You look around, seeing mostly confused faces. “The girl who took the mouse out of our bathroom yesterday? The one who was late to the assembly?” Heads finally nod in recognition.

“Well, what do you think of her?” you decide to test the waters.

“I mean, she helped us with the dead mouse yesterday... And the way she pissed off the director was kinda funny,” one of the girls remarks.

“Yeah, but doesn’t she seem, like, super bitchy to you?” No one agrees except Olivia.

“Yeah, sometimes she looks at me like she wants to kill me,” Olivia chuckles. “But I guess I don’t pay much attention to her.”

 Are you seriously the only one she irritates? Maybe the problem is you, not her… 

“I shared a kayak with her today, and she was a total ass, seriously.” You try to defend yourself.

“How so?”

“Like... um, I can’t remember her exact behavior right now, but she was just straight up mean,” you admit, feeling a bitter pang in your chest. Not because of someone’s harsh words, but because you feel like you made a fool of yourself. Does no one else find her infuriating besides you?

 “Yeah, I asked about her because she killed me in the game,” you clear your throat, “and who killed you?” Changing the subject successfully.

You enjoy the rest of the evening; it’s peaceful, and eventually, your mood improves. You’re so tired after the first day that you don’t even join your friends when they sneak out of your cabin to hang out with others; you collapse onto your bed and fall asleep immediately.

***

The next morning, an alarm clock wakes up the whole room. Since you got the most sleep last night, you are the first to actually get out of bed and have plenty of time for yourself. Looking at your other roommates, you doubt if some of them got any sleep at all last night.

You walk towards the main square with them as they discuss the events of last night.

“Seriously, y/n, it’s a shame you weren’t there yesterday. You should totally join us tonight,” Mia playfully punches your arm.

“Yeah, we had to sneak around so the counselor wouldn’t catch us. We made it to Lily’s room, and at first, we just talked—”

“Yeah, but then we started playing spin the bottle, you know. We only managed like two rounds before we heard the counselor coming, and we had to bail.”

“Mhm, we’re planning on continuing the game tonight. You’re in, right?” Mia asks.

Thinking about it now, you regret not joining the girls yesterday; you usually never say no to fun.

“Of course I am. I wish I had been there last night too,” you admit with a smile, and the girls get enthusiastic as well.

***

You’ve already chosen the activities for the day. First is swimming, then sailing, and lastly, rock climbing. Olivia is supposed to accompany you on each activity too.

You change into your swimsuit and wrap yourself in a towel. You join your group in the assembly area, recognizing some familiar faces. As you walk towards the lakeside, you pass by the horse stable. Looking closer, you notice Ellie cleaning one of the horse stalls—yesterday's punishment. You try not to burst out laughing with Olivia when you see her.

The first activity is nothing special; as soon as you get into the water, instead of swimming, you start splashing around with the cold water. Since it’s early summer, the water has barely warmed up from the sun. The rest of the activity is spent either tanning on the shore or occasionally dipping into the water, only to quickly run back to dry land as others splash you.

Since the next activity is sailing, you don’t bother changing out of your swimwear, assuming you might get wet again. However, it’s just the start of camp, so the instructor begins with theory lessons on land: boat construction, the wind rose, basic maneuvers. By the end of the lesson, all the new information begins to blur together in your mind. There’s too many. 

It’s alright, you calm yourself down; you have the whole month to learn.

After lunch (it was spaghetti today!), you spend the break reading a book in your room and hanging out with your roommates.

Now it’s time for rock climbing. It’s your first time trying it, but you’ve always wanted to try it. You change into more sporty clothes and follow Olivia to the main square. You join the crowd until you arrive at the climbing wall. You look up; the wall is about 50 feet tall—is that a lot for a climbing wall? You have no idea; it looks average.

The activity starts with the instructor’s introduction and a little theory, but fortunately, it doesn’t take up all the remaining time. First, everyone who wants to climb has to pair up with someone heavier and more experienced to belay them.

You look around; Olivia is about the same size as you, so she wouldn’t be the best match. You turn and spot her: a girl wearing a black tank top with smooth blonde hair in a single braid. She looks much more muscular than you—perfect. You approach her.

"Hey, do you mind belaying me?" You ask Abby, who looks at you with a neutral expression at first.

"Sure, why not," she responds with a warm smile lighting up her face.

The instructor gives you a bit more instruction before helping you with the climbing harness. Abby, clearly more experienced with this type of equipment, manages hers effortlessly.

"Tell me when you’re ready." You stand facing the wall, Abby behind you holding the rope to belay you. As you look up, the height suddenly seems much more daunting than the supposed 50 feet. Okay, you can do this. That’s what Olivia next to you reassures, too.

Around you, some people are already climbing, while others watch from below. You take a deep breath and grab two handholds above your head, placing both feet on lower holds. With your hand reaching for another hold, you feel the rope tighten, lifting you slightly higher. You adjust your foot and continue upwards.

The holds require more strength than you anticipated, but you push through, climbing a little higher. You’ve moved about five holds up already. Your fingers of both hands reach another holds, but they’re too small and you feel them slipping on the polyester resin slowly— you know it's only a matter of time before you lose grip.

Just before you fall, you glance down. You let go of the hold, and Abby’s rope catches you, holding you at the same height for a few seconds before she carefully lowers you to the ground. She helps you remove the harness.

"How was it?" Abby asks kindly.

"I didn’t realize climbing was that hard," you admit, your hands sore and muscles tense.

"Was that your first time?"

"Was it really that obvious?" You whine.

"Well, you got pretty high if it was your first time. Most people are too nervous to even attempt the wall," Abby encourages.

You look at the climbing wall and the point from which you fell. You climbed about, wow shocking, 7 feet. You know Abby is probably being just polite and not honest, but it's still nice of her.

"I was only up there for like 5 minutes, but thanks anyway… Do you climb often? Sorry, that's a dumb question. You look… well, clearly experienced," you say, noticing her muscles.

"Yeah, I swim too, but climbing has always been my favorite," Abby admits.

The counselor announces the session's end, and people begin to head back to their cabins.

"Well, I’ll see you around," Abby waves with a smile, leaving you and joining her friends.

You gather your things, and Olivia finds you.

"Abby, huh?" she grins teasingly.

"What do you mean?" you shake your head.

"I saw the way you were checking her out. Interesting, wouldn't have pegged you for being into the head counselor’s daughter…"

"What? No, it's not like that! Yeah, she's attractive but—" You stop short, processing her words. "Wait, did you say Mr. Anderson's daughter?!" Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Shh, not so loud. Yeah, she’s Abby Anderson. To be honest, they do look alike, kind of," Olivia laughs.

"No they don’t! Gross! She’s cute, I guess. But definitely not my type," you assure her, the rest of the walk filled with idle chatter. You prepare for dinner and head over with your group, sitting together at a table.

"Mrs. Miller told me we're playing Treasure Hunt tonight, but she said not to tell anyone, so be quiet," Leah, your roommate, reveals while eating.

"That children’s game? Oh God," you groan, anticipating it'll be boring.

"No no, it's different here. It's actually quite fun," Olivia chimes in mischievously. "Once it's dark, everyone gets paired up randomly and gets just a flashlight and a treasure map. The treasure's hidden somewhere in the woods…"

"Yeah, and the first pair to find it gets a prize." Emma adds.

"And what's the prize?" you inquire, starting to get curious.

"A fancy dinner or something, but that's not the point. It’s about being out in the dark with just a flashlight and possibly some… hot company," Olivia explains, winking at you.

"Yeah, some people really… well, they take full advantage of the occasion, you know two people left alone in the dark" Emma smirks.

"What? The way you put it sounds pretty horrible," you admit.

"No, it's thrilling!" they try to convince you. "Plus, the counselors try to spook you. Come on, it's so much fun…"

"I guess it could be fun…" You're still unsure, particularly about being alone in the woods with others trying to scare you. But you're up for new experiences, right?

"If you give up on the treasure hunt idea, we’re moving Spin the Bottle to the woods. We’ll meet by the pond."

The after-dinner break is longer than usual, you have to wait till the night comes. Three hours later, everyone gathers in the main square. Leah was right; the counselor confirms it’s Treasure Hunt night.

The rules are reiterated, although you’re already familiar with them. Finally, the pairs are announced.

"Y/n and Amelia Oakley."

You walk to the center and see Amelia approaching. Short brown hair, glasses— right, you met her at Arts and Crafts yesterday. She seemed nice. You both approach another counselor who distributes flashlights and the treasure map.

"Hey, we met at Arts and Crafts yesterday," you initiate the conversation.

"Yeah, I remember you," she says warmly.

She might not be the "super hot company" your friends were telling you about, but the game should still be enjoyable with her as a partner. At least you didn’t end up with a total nightmare like Ellie for example. Phew.

You all gather at the main gate, waiting for the game to commence. It’s a serene night; the sun has already set, and while it's dark, it’s not completely pitch-black yet. The stars are beginning to twinkle above, and you can hear the rustling of leaves and the breeze through the trees.

The director opens the gate, and as everyone prepares to dash off, he speaks up.

"You have to be here in exactly three hours, or sooner. Whistles will blow 10 minutes before the end. Don’t even think about leaving the designated area; the counselors will find you anyway. Remember, we have eyes and ears everywhere." You gulp, recalling the stories your friend shared about counselors lurking in the dark woods. "Let the game begin!"

The rush is palpable as the crowd surges toward the nearest path. Amelia grabs your hand, and you both join the sprint. Initially, everyone follows the same route, but as time passes, the group thins out as people take different directions.

"Let's turn left now!" Amelia shouts above the din, and you follow suit. After a few moments, you stop to catch your breath.

"Okay. What's our plan? How do we find this treasure?" you ask, still panting.

"Well, according to the map," she shines her flashlight on the paper, "we need to head to the west side of the woods. But are we really here just for the treasure?"

You look at her, confused.

"What else would we be here for?"

"I mean, for many, the appeal of this game is the freedom. For one night, you’re left alone in the woods. It would be a shame to use that time only to find some hidden treasure," she suggests, her face softly illuminated by the flashlight.

What are her intentions? Hopefully just friendly…

"Yeah, I guess… But what else could we do?" You were kind of looking forward to the treasure hunt before.

"Some people form groups and hang out, others like to spook the other campers," Amelia explains.

"That sounds more interesting than the original game," you admit.

"Okay, but how do we find them?" you wonder aloud.

"Well, we either stumble upon them, or we could sit quietly and listen for any approaching footsteps. Though that might seem a bit creepy," she laughs.

"I suppose we could try the first option…"

You start walking through the woods, unfortunately without encountering anyone. It’s now completely dark; your flashlight is your only source of light. It’s getting chilly, and you regret not bringing a hoodie.

"You know, thinking about it now, letting teenagers loose in the woods all night seems like a pretty risky idea. What if someone goes missing or something?" you voice your concerns.

"For the past 30 years, it hasn’t happened. And the counselors are everywhere. They might even be right behind you," Amelia says, sending a shiver down your spine. "Don’t worry, if you were to yell for help, three of them would probably appear instantly."

"That's a little unsettling," you chuckle nervously.

Suddenly, you hear the crackling of leaves behind you. You whip around, and Amelia grabs your hand. Both of you freeze, listening intently.

The sound comes again— louder, closer…

"RAAAAAH!" a scream echoes right behind you. Startled, Amelia lets go of your hand and bolts. You run after her, the creature in hot pursuit behind you.

You continue running until you reach a fork in the road. Glancing back, your flashlight reveals two human silhouettes giving chase, they’re so close now. You turn back, noticing Amelia is missing. Fuck, she has already chosen a path, but you’re unsure which one. Deciding quickly, you turn right, hoping to meet her there.

You shine your flashlight ahead but see no sign of Amelia. After a while, you can’t hear footsteps behind you either. Turning around, you realize you’re now alone. Alone in the woods with only your flashlight, you’ve lost the treasure map long ago. That was probably the fastest you’ve run in your life.

"Fuck…" you curse under your breath, standing still to catch your breath. You look around, finding no one in sight. Your first instinct is to backtrack to the fork in the road, but as you start walking, you realize you lost your way in the heat of the chase.

You're on the verge of calling out for counselors, as Amelia suggested, when a distant flashlight catches your eye. At this point, you're indifferent whether it's the chasers, Amelia, or anyone else; you just can't stand being alone in these dark woods anymore. Flashing your own light a few times, you hurry over to the source. As you shine your flashlight in their face, you realize it’s… Ellie.

"For fuck’s sake, can you stop blinding me with that damn thing?!" You would’ve recognized this tone everywhere, even if you didn’t know it’s Ellie.

"Ellie…"

"No way," she groans, hiding her face in her hands. She realizes it’s you who she has bumped into. "I've been wandering alone for twenty minutes, and you are the first person I meet?"

"Why are you alone?"

"I ditched my partner ages ago. At first, I was scaring the other campers," she smirks. "It was hilarious— they were all pissing their pants. But then I got bored and headed towards the pond."

Right, you remember. Your friends mentioned they were meeting there. A thought appears in your head.

“I was walking towards the pond, too”

"They invited you to play too?" she sighs, clearly mad. "I was hoping to leave you here once you’re done talking."

"Not that simple, Williams," you reply, feeling just as displeased about the reunion. "Do you know the way?"

"It’s on the map, genius," she scoffs.

"Well, I lost mine. Looks like we're walking together," you say, hearing Ellie emit another groan.

For a while, silence hangs between you both. It's not exactly awkward—more like a mutual animosity. 

"I lost my partner when we got chased," you eventually mention.

"I don't care," Ellie cuts you off with a sharp tone, prompting a sigh from you.

"Ellie, what is your problem?"

"My problem? What do you mean?" Her tone betrays her disinterest.

"You are such a bitch to me. Since the first time we’ve talked."

"Thanks."

"Answer me, Ellie," you insist, growing tired of the tension.

"You annoy me. Your face, your voice… I don’t know. What do you expect? Maybe I'm just a bitch," Ellie sighs, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability.

In the distance, you hear murmurs of human voices from behind the trees.

"Looks like we're here," you comment as you and Ellie approach the gathering.

You see about ten people gathered in a circle. Spotting your friends, you walk over to them.

"Hey, Y/n! We've been waiting for you!" They greet you eagerly.

"How long have you been here?" you ask, settling down as they make room for you.

"Not long. Just got here about five minutes ago. We're still waiting on a few more," Olivia informs you.

You glance around. Someone has cleared the leaves and sticks for seating so the ground is clear. Some people have placed their flashlights on the ground, while others still hold theirs. A greenish pond shimmers a few feet away, reflecting all of the lights.

After a while, five more people join the circle. Despite the dim lighting, you manage to recognize some faces, including Abby, the girl who belayed you while climbing earlier.

A deep voice cuts through the murmurs. "Quiet, everyone! Let’s start the game."

Taglist: @littlelittlebear