#now it's gone to him standing behind me while I'm sitting at my desk and putting his hands on both shoulders right at the nape of my neck

[tinylilacbun]

School Fights

Pairing: brother!rafe cameron x teen!sister!reader

Warnings: reader getting into fights, arguing, angst, set in s4, mentions of ward being dead, fluff at the end

͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ ︶𝅄⏝ ͝ ͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ 𝅄

Rafe's on his way towards your school, again, this is the third time this month that the principal has called him because you got into another fight.

Ever since Ward died, Rafe took it upon himself to take care of you since you didn't want to stay with Rose and leave the island you grew up on behind but boy, he really didn't expect that taking care of a teenager would be this exhausting.

You kind of remember him of himself when he was around your age, which scares him sometimes, because he made stupid decisions and even more reckless stuff.

He couldn't say no when you somehow managed to come back to Kildare all on your own from Guadaloupe, standing in front of him sobbing and begging him to let you stay with him, saying that you miss him and everything.

Now it's been a while and things have gone smoothly, all until the calls from your principal became more frequent and worse every time.

Arriving in front of the school building he takes a deep breath before climbing out of his car, making his way inside and towards the principal office, the way all too familiar for him by now.

As he opens the door to the office he sighs at seeing you sitting in the seat in front of Miss Tinks desk, your arms crossed over your chest and a faint bruise forming on the corner of your mouth together with a cut on your eyebrow that the school nurse already patched up.

"Mr. Cameron, please take a seat." She greets him, a small professional smile on her face to ease the already growing tension in the room.

"What happened now?" Rafe asks, taking a seat right next to you, reaching out to tuck your hair away to get a proper look at your face but you just turn your head from his reach.

"Well, there's been a little altercation between Y/N and some other students during lunch break." Your principal starts to explain everything, that you lashed out at two other girls for reasons you wouldn't tell her yet as you knew it wouldn't change a thing.

"A'ight, we'll- I'll talk with her. It won't happen again, I'm sure of it." Rafe says, knowing there's no way in hell that things would change but he has to say something to assure that he's capable to take care of his sister.

"Mr. Cameron, with all due respect. I've been patient for a while now, and I can't let these things slide anymore. Y/N will be suspended for the coming three days. Should things not work out soon I'm forced to take more drastic measures to ensure a healthy learning environment for my students." Miss Tinks states calmly, sliding the paper with your suspension towards your brother.

Rafe clenches his jaw, rubbing a hand over his face before glancing at you, who seems completely unbothered by this whole situation.

"Okay. I'll handle it from here, I apologize on her behalf." Rafe musters up a forced smile as he stands up, shaking your principal's hand goodbye, turning to face you. "Let's go."

You grab your bag and stand up to catch up with your brother, walking silently beside him as you both make your way outside and to his car.

After he slams his door shut he starts the engine, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he wheels onto the road, staring ahead but he's visibly upset, rightfully so.

"What happened?" He asks through gritted teeth and when you don't reply he breathes deeply through his nose.

"Y/N, I'm trying to help here but- but when you don't give me a reasonable explanation I'll ground your ass for a damn month and take away your phone, if that's what you want instead be my guest." He waves his hand.

Again, just silence. He's about to start scolding you again when you mumble something under your breath. "Speak up, kid. I can't understand gibberish."

"You wouldn't understand..." You mutter again, trying not to cry as you feel your eyes well up.

"Then help me. At least try to explain what the hell is going on. I can't change things when you don't talk with me, you know that." He runs a hand over his buzzed head, not used to talks like this with you.

"They all pick on me...e-everyone whispers when I walk past them, saying how Dad's a murderer and that he deserved what happened, t-that you're psychopathic, that Sarah turned into a dirty pogue, telling me that I'll just end up like all of you." You finally ramble out, starting to sniffle as the tears roll down your cheeks.

"I just- I couldn't stand it anymore, hearing all that shit and just snapped. Bitches had it coming ever since I started school again..."

Rafe doesn't say anything for a moment, taking everything in you just said, already preparing himself for the phone call he's gonna have with your principal when he gets home.

How can shit like this just slip past all those teachers? Hell, he's pretty sure he can press charges for the fact his sister gets suspended after getting harassed by fellow students. A healthy learning environment, my ass.

"I...I get it." He finally responds, starting to calm down now that he knows why you've been acting so strange lately. "You just wanted to defend your family name. Guess we got more in common than I thought, huh?"

"You- You're not mad?" You question, wiping the tears from your cheeks subtly.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm actually proud of you for not only standing up for yourself but also for dad. He wouldn't get it, but I do...hell I understand you more than anyone ever could."

There's some silence after that, both of you processing the depth of the conversation you just had, there's never really been a chance to talk about what's bothering you since you're still partly grieving your father's deaths.

He wasn't the best dad of the world. Everyone knows that, but still, he tried everything to protect all of you and make sure you'll never have to worry about anything in the future 'til his last breath.

"I miss him..." You whisper suddenly, looking down at your bruised knuckles.

"Yeah, me too." Rafe replies with a low voice.

You furrow your brows when you notice that he doesn't turn into the next street towards his house but keeps driving straight ahead.

"Where are we going?"

He simply shrugs, a smirk forming on his face. "I think we both deserve some McDonald's, don't you think?"

You finally start to smile again, a sight that Rafe hasn't been able to witness for a while now. He should have paid more attention to you, having deep talks like this, he's all you got now after all.

[lovelikeghostsmp3]

I'm overworked, stressed, tired, my back hurts, I'm hungry, and I'm being harassed with unconsenual touches from my manager

[luveline]

IM BEGGING ON MY KNEES PLEASEEEE 🔥🔥🔥 NOTICE MEEEE

Really quiet and shy reader who’s new to the team and Spencer JUST got out of prison like a month ago and he comes back and sees the cutest girl he’s ever seen so young and new to the team and can’t help but tease her

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE🧎🏾‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️

Unit Chief Emily Prentiss scares the fuck out of you, but you're still not as intimidated by her as you are by Dr. Reid. 

Dr. Reid, and not Special Supervisory Agent Reid —there's a big difference— shouldn't be a scary guy. He doesn't have any tattoos or piercings, his haircut is tame, and you watch him pour enough sugar into his coffee to weaken the enamel of your teeth just looking at it. But while all or this is true, Dr. Reid just came back from a weeks long stint in one of the most tense prisons in the world. Emily assured you in her way that everything bad you may have heard about Dr. Reid would be false, and that anything positive is true. 

He looks different to how you'd pictured him. Emily's promise aside, Garcia painted him as some sweater-wearing Teddy bear of a boy who likes chess and Doctor Who. 

This is a man. Full grown, full suit, dark-eyes. You're not sure what to feel as he spots you. When Anderson gave you the desk across from Spencer's you'd thought you were lucky, getting treated as part of the team from the very beginning, but now you're not so sure. 

“Hey,” he says, eyes on you as he puts down his coffee atop a stack of medical journals. His things were left untouched while he was gone, even though he was technically separated from the bureau. He's well respected. “I've been excited to meet you. I'm Spencer.” 

“Dr. Reid,” you say immediately, standing up from your chair to meet him besides your desks. 

“Spencer,” he says again. “I don't shake.” 

“Oh, no, of course not,” you say, hiding your hands behind your back. “I know you were here long before me, but I can safely say how nice it is to have you back.” You smile. “They were all so worried about you.” 

“You kept them in line while I was gone?” 

“No, I was useless. I've never felt this stupid in my life.” 

“That's just how it feels for the first year.” He isn't smiling, isn't frowning, a hint of amusement in his eyes and hands steady as he tucks them into his pants pockets. “It's not the others, is it?” 

“No, there's just a lot to learn.” 

“It shouldn't be hard for you, though, right?” He gestures to you like this means something. 

“I don't…” 

“You're what, twenty four?” Spencer picks up his mug and takes a drink. “If you're smart enough to be here now, you'll be fine.” 

“You think so?” 

“Don't tell me you're scared, Y/N.” His lashes flare ever so slightly in feigned surprise. After a second of your obvious flustering, he laughs. “No, you don't scare easily. I can tell.” 

Absolutely nothing like you told me he'd be, Penelope. I thought we were friends. 

“So what was your last case like? The Bentley driver?” he asks, nodding toward your desk. “How's your peer reviews going? They used to drive me insane.” 

You startle and rush to sit in your desk chair, opening the case file from the last case to gather his approval. He flicks through pages, almost non-committal, though he gives a hum of approval when he reads your UnSub summary, and when he sees a comment you'd made that you'd believed to be particularly astute, he laughs. “Yeah,” he says, “you'll be fine.” The smell of him floats your way, cologne or aftershave that makes you feel dizzy. He looks down at you. “Something wrong?” 

“Nothing, uh–” You bite your tongue rather than answer and trip over another useless sentence. 

He touches the top of your shoulder lightly. “It will get easier,” he promises. 

He means work, of course, but for a split second you wonder if he means being near him. If he's like this often, you doubt that that's true. 

[writingastory]

Request: Zayne - Behind Closed Hearts

Request: Hello! Can you please write a story or scenario with Zayne and reader? When they are in relationship and they get into an argument because Zayne keeps overworking himself and they barely have time to see each other. Zayne tells reader to not worry about it, but eventually lashes out on her with his cold tone. He ends up being called back to work and leaves reader. Reader then leaves Zayne apartment and goes back to her own apartment leaving a note that they need a break. Zayne obviously feels bad and tries to contact her/reader, but she’s still upset and wants her space. Zayne understands and misses her terribly, but she avoids him and ofc misses him. Then a few weeks pass by and Zayne is trying to see reader, but then he sees her with Sylus who is her friend that obviously likes her. Prompting Zayne to win her back plus some intimate moments/ professing his love for her. This has been on my mind for a while and if it’s too much for you I understand. Sorry that it’s so long. TY!✨💗

Pairings: Zayne x fem!reader; Sylus x fem!reader (platonic)

Warnings: Angst, arguing, eventual fluff

Genre: "Normal" AU (no Evol, no Wanderers - just normal life)

Words: 2.3k

A/N: Thank you for your request. Even though I specifically stated "headcanons" for requests... this was an idea that I just couldn't ignore. Hope you enjoy this! 💕

"Zayne?"

"Zayne!"

She frowned at the lack of response. Was he still on the phone? He had a bad habit of taking calls after hours. What started as a rare exception, slowly turned into a regular occurrence, with his damned phone constantly interrupting their togetherness.

Her fist slammed the table angrily, the plates and glasses rattling and clinking in a loud chorus. She got up from her chair and stomped to his office, pushing the door open without warning.

There he was, sitting at his desk, his phone glued to his ear still. Zayne frowned at her in irritation - almost angrily so. "Keep it down," he mouthed, turning with his chair, humming at something the caller said.

"You said this would be quick," she said quietly, hoping he would at least spare her a glance - or reassure her in any way. "Zayne," she pleaded once more, all feelings of consideration for him and his demanding job long gone. "This is ou-," she was cut off by him standing up suddenly and making his way over to her.

"Out," he whispered, pushing her out of his office gently but firmly and closing the door. Hot tears made their way over her burning cheeks, seething anger bubbling up in her.

"But-," she sobbed quietly, the words stuck in the lump forming in her throat.

The dinner was long forgotten when he finally came out of his office, already fixing his tie. "I need to go back to the hospital," he said in his usual stoic tone. "I apologize that tonight didn't quite go as planned."

She sat at the dining table again, looking at the cold and empty plates. "Of course," she whispered, "work always comes first, after all."

"Please stop," he answered, walking over to her slowly. "You know that I love you - but you also knew from the very beginning, that my job is very demanding. I can't just tell people to not have heart problems at certain times."

"You're not the only surgeon in Linkon, Zayne." Her tone was sharp as she got up and walked around the table - away from him. She could not stand being near him anymore. "Can't you see what this workaholic lifestyle is doing to you? To us? Damn it, the nurses spend more time with you than I do these days."

Zayne frowned again. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, fixing the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, "but it doesn't change the fact that they need me there right now."

"I need you here, Zayne," she cried, not even bothering to hide the tears anymore. He avoided her gaze as he gathered his things. There was a moment of silence before he spoke up quietly.

"Please don't make me choose."

She looked at him in shock. His words stung - worse than any pain she ever felt in life. It was a dark, crushing pain, blooming in her chest and spreading all throughout her body. Why would he feel the need to choose in the first place...?

Shaking her head lightly, she turned away from him, hiding the fresh tears streaming down her face. She heard him sigh behind her, before he quietly made his way to the hallway. Just as he was about to leave, she called out to him.

"Don't go.... please, don't go."

Zayne halted in his tracks for a moment, his hand resting on the door handle. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and stepped outside, the door falling shut behind him quietly.

A few moments passed, before she broke down in sobs, tears of hurt and anger blurring her vision. "Happy anniversary to you, too," she yelled at the door - as if he could still hear her. The storm inside her was raging, months of pent up frustration, cancelled dates, and broken promises bursting out of her. The downpour was heavy and violent - as was the sudden silence that followed.

She sat on the floor in the living room, her back resting against the couch. Her tears had dried, her sobs died down, and she was left with a certain clarity of mind. She couldn't do this anymore.

Yes, she loved Zayne - but she could not take always being second choice anymore. This was not the kind of relationship she wanted in life, not even with a man as amazing as Zayne.

She scrambled to her feet slowly, starting to collect her things that had accumulated over the many times she was at his place. Every single piece felt wrong to take away, like she was committing a crime of some sort.

Every strange noise made her perk up, a spark of hope erupting in her. Was he coming back? Did he... choose her after all?

But with every noise that ignited a small glimmer of hope, came a crashing wave of ice cold reality, when she had to realize that he was not returning that night. Not soon after he left - or even five hours later.

So it came that she found herself in his office, sitting at his desk. The surface was relatively empty, save for a notebook, a pen... and a picture of the two of them. She remembered that day vividly. They had visited the annual fair together and enjoyed a day of fun, laughter, and sweets. And then, finally, after months of orbiting around each other... they shared a kiss, sweet and gentle.

Now, the same memory that had brought her joy and excitement, caused a deep pit in her stomach. She sighed deeply and placed the framed picture down again, as the memories slowly faded away. Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, she grabbed the pen and a blank paper sheet from one of the drawers. She hesitated for a moment, the tip of the pen hovering above the crisp white paper. Then, eventually, she formed her words of goodbye.

The sun was already rising above the horizon when Zayne was finally coming home. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. He called out her name as he stepped inside. Usually, she was already awake by this time of the day.

He said her name again, slowly making his way through his apartment. Something felt off. It was quiet. Too quiet. He frowned when he saw the food and clean dinnerware still on the table.

Once more, her name left his lips as he entered the bedroom and found it empty, the bed untouched. A terrible feeling crept up his spine, and following a certain hunch, he opened the top drawer of his dresser slowly. He shut his eyes in pain and remorse when he found it empty. Her clothes were gone, as was her perfume on top of the dresser. Zayne closed the drawer with a soft thud, his hands dropping to his sides.

He took out his phone and dialed her number, only for his call to be immediately sent to voicemail. "Please..." he whispered, walking through his apartment aimlessly, noticing the spots that had her things in it, that now sat empty, "please, pick up."

In the midst of the chaos that was her absence, Zayne found the one thing she left behind. A letter, neatly placed by the picture on his desk. The words burned in his eyes, like a fire against the white of the paper.

Zayne, I'm not asking you to choose between your work and me. What would be the point, since you already did?

He sat in silence, trying to process the words he was reading over and over again.

She was gone.

His love had left him.

Somehow, his world seemed a little less bright ever since that night. It became dull. Lifeless. Monotonic.

Incomplete.

He splashed his face with cold water, willing away the painful memory. Many times he had tried calling and visiting her, wanting to work things out - but she would not let him.

"We need a break, Zayne," was all she had said to him before shutting him out again. It hurt, but he could not blame her when he was the reason for this situation.

Weeks passed. Weeks full of regret and anger, hurt and doubt. Was he doing the right thing by giving her space, when all he wanted was for them to be together again? Could he even make it right anymore? He recalled all the times he had stood her up, making her wait for him. She deserved better.

But he did not want to let her go. He wanted to be better for her. He wanted to be the man she deserved. All his awards, his passion for his work dulled in comparison to her love and companionship. He realized that then - and hoped it was not too late for that.

As the weeks went by, she slowly got used to the heavy weight resting on her shoulders. She hated this feeling. More than anything, she wished to meet up with Zayne, hug him, kiss him, make everything go back the way it was between them - but she knew that she needed space to see clearly, to figure things out.

She sighed deeply, when her phone was ringing once again.

"I told you to stop calling me," she mumbled after picking up.

"No, you didn't," the man on the other side chuckled deeply. "Sylus," she said, a small smile forming on her lips. "I thought you were on a business trip?"

"I was," he answered, "but I could wrap things up earlier than expected. Are you in the mood for some coffee?"

She wanted to say 'no'. Then again, Sylus and her had been friends since elementary school, and maybe this would take her mind off things, help her get some distance from the emotional mess she was dealing with.

"I'll pick you up," he said. She could hear him smiling through the phone. "Alright," she answered, ending the call with a soft tap on the phone screen.

Zayne was stressed when he finally got off work. He was annoyed, he had a headache, and his eyes were burning. He groaned in frustration and rubbed his temples. He needed a break. A good coffee and maybe something sweet would certainly help him - or so he thought. Finding his love in the same café he went to, was not part of the plan. And seeing her with another man did not make it any better.

Rationally, he knew that those two were life-long friends. Emotionally, he saw red.

Without ordering anything, Zayne turned around and left the café. He knew where he had to go. This madness would end tonight.

It was already dark outside when she got home, confused when she found the door to her apartment not fully locked.

"Don't be frightened," Zayne's soft voice called from the darkness of her living room, "it's me."

"What are you doing here?!" she demanded, letting her keys fall into the dish with a loud rattle. "I think I was very clear in my demand for a break."

"You were," he agreed, turning on the light with a soft click. He sat on the couch, his legs folded, his eyes fixed on her form. "Yet, I find it nearly impossible to continue like this."

Silence filled the room. She took off her shoes and walked over, sitting down in the arm chair across from him. She tried her hardest to remain calm and stoic, even when her heart screamed at her to lunge at him. She craved his touch, his presence in her life.

"You look tired," she noted after terribly long moments of silence. "I'm not sleeping well lately," he answered quietly, a soft sigh following his words.

"I'm sorry," he said, his haze finding hers once more. She shuffled in her seat slightly, biting her lip. Countless thoughts flooded her mind, threatening to spill out - but she wanted to listen to what he had to say first. So, she looked at him in silence, waiting for him to continue.

"You were right. I did make a choice... and I despise myself for it. I despise myself for not seeing your hurt, for not understanding how you must have felt."

She swallowed thickly at his words. It was hard for him to talk about feelings. This was a lot - for both of them.

"The past weeks have been hard. I miss you. I miss us."

A single tear rolled down her cheek at his words. "I miss you, too," she said quietly. "But I'm scared. What if we end up right here again? That's not the kind of relationship I want..."

"My love," he breathed, standing up and walking over to her in a few long strides. He kneeled down in front of her and took her hands in his gently. "I don't want that either. I know my mistakes, and I don't want to repeat them. I will be better for you. Can you... find it in yourself to forgive me? To give me another chance?"

She did not even make an effort to hide her tears, letting them run freely over her skin. In a fraction of a second, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his - a silent answer.

Foreheads touching, they both sighed quietly, the pent up tension finally leaving their bodies and the air around them. "Let's never.... do that again," he whispered, his arms slowly circling around her, as he hid his face in her lap. He squeezed her gently, scared that she could somehow disappear from his grasp again.

"Agreed," she mumbled, raking her fingers through his soft hair gently. "I hate fighting anyway."

He smiled and looked up at her. "Oh, one more thing. Don't believe I forgot," he said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped present.

"Happy belated anniversary."

[yayll]

~ a little something about the complicated way you and Dazai acknowledge each other's feelings ~

"We can't let it end like this. We simply can't."

"Dazai, what are you talking about? I'm literally just going on my lunch break."

"... I'll find a way for us to be together! Someday!"

You've been bickering back and forth with him ever since you stepped foot in the agency this morning, or more like he's been performing a whiney one sided narrative that you and your co-workers are more than familiar with. Though it's only ever directed at you. The confusing declarations of love, the lack of personal space, and then there are the days he won't even look or speak to you at all. It was emotional whiplash, but you did your best to drown out the feelings he evoked in you.

Dangerous ones you wouldn't dare indulge in, because if so, you get the feeling your heart would never recover from a man like Dazai. You grab your wallet, and push in your desk chair when he calls out to you once more in a much more serious tone, one that sounds bored.

"If you must leave, will you please pick up something on your way back for me?"

"What is it this time?"

"Bandages, I suppose"

He says that like it's an afterthought, like he couldn't care less for whatever he was asking for.

He's been asking you to go on odd little shopping trips for him for weeks now, and you being the dog you are, say yes every single time. You think about how Dazai loathes dogs. It makes you physically ill the way you feel about him. Whatever it is. You nod, and reply softly.

"Okay. Sure."

"So compliant! If I didn't know any better l'd say you're madly in love with me. Should we run off into the sunset and get married?"

You simply stare at his sardonic smile for a long while, and he stares back. It's like you're sending each other psychic waves, secret messages only you two could decode. Only you two could fathom. He stares into you with that piercing gaze of his, the one that might as well call you an idiot for ever thinking there's a real person behind his heavenly face. His eyes are pretty, they make yours feel dull in comparison. After a while, a faint half smile creeps onto your lips, trying to feign the same indifference as his. You fail, obviously.

"Mm, sounds too hopeful, even for you."

"Yikes! Right you are. Commitment. How awful.... No one wants that kind of trouble."

Dazai states cruelly, leaning back into his chair at his desk, arms crossed. He has to bite down to keep from smiling and giggling like a fool, as this is exactly what he wishes would happen.

His heart flutters for a brief moment at the visual of such a fantasy, such privilege to have you forever. He knows how badly you secretly want this too, but he doesn't plan on putting you out of your misery just yet. Shame on you to think of him as a real person who's allowed to pursue the things he wants! He continues when he sees you've gone completely silent, standing with your keys in your hand like a mannequin.

"Besides, I'm sure you've met plenty of other guys that are far more suitable for you. I mean, look at me, I used to be a criminal." He winks at you, hinting at his sketchy past. He's such a fantastic performer when he's at his worst.

"... And no one wants that kind of trouble, right?" You echo his past words back to him, once again failing to match his rejection.

"Oh you wretched little creature. Right again!"

You can't take much of this any longer, smiling politely as you simply turn around, and walk out of the agency. Your eyes sting.

Dazai just sits there, staring at the door, counting the seconds until you're back. He rests his chin on his palm, unblinking. He taps his fingers on the desk, and lets out a deep sigh. It's all he does, all he looks forward to every single day you leave.

You finally come back nearly an hour later, carrying a small bag and leftovers from your lunch. He lights up like the moon during the clearest night sky, and stands up immediately. His demeanor completely changes as he flashes you a delighted grin, rushing to you.

"You're back~"

"Yeah, here are your bandages."

"My what?"

"The bandages you asked for..?"

His eyes widen for a moment, and then he chuckles, shaking his head. He flicks his own forehead.

"Of course! Thank you. Now, may I have the receipt as well?"

He looks excited, his open palm cupped in front of you, as if you were giving him a treat. You raise a brow and shrug, handing him the crumpled piece of paper. You don't even question it anymore. He frowns. You think he looks like a disgruntled little kid.

"Ugh. You wrinkled it."

"What? Why does it matter?"

"Well I obviously wanted to keep it, silly goose."

You try to make sense of what he could possibly mean, and you decide it's not worth getting into. You can't afford the heartache nor the brain cells.

"That's the weirdest thing you've ever asked me."

"Not true. I've never asked you for a kiss~"

You almost drop to the floor with the way his eyes darken, despite his tone being the complete opposite. You stare at him yet again for what feels like ages, your heart set ablaze, with Dazai being the pyromaniac who won't let your embers die out of his own amusement. Your voice comes out low, meek.

"Well I'm clearly not the person you dream of, so no."

You could swear his awful smirk falls off just a tiny bit, but any evidence of that is gone in a blink of an eye. His voice comes out soft and laced with a hint of honeyed bitterness.

"And if you weren't, l'd dream of you anyway."

He mutters under his breath as he looks out the window, as if you weren't supposed to hear that. the sun is slowly setting and the moon will illuminate soon after. He wishes he could see what you look like at night.

You roll your eyes because if you don't, you'll bury your face in his chest and sob. Oh, he's the worst. You put on your best cynical voice followed by a scoff.

"That's lovely, Dazai."

"You look lovely." He states simply, still looking at the way the moon ghosts in the sky.

"... Thank you."

"It's my pleasure." He murmurs, solemnly. In that moment, you don't catch it, but he's telling you he loves you too.

And just like that, you slowly walk past him and sit at your desk. You might have a stroke, but you still have reports to finish.

Dazai quietly does the same, sitting down and opening a drawer, and then a secret compartment within it. He glances at you for a moment, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he flashes you an exaggerated smile when you catch him looking, then turns his attention back down, the smile dropping.

He places the wrinkled receipt into a larger stack of countless other receipts, all from past errands you've run for him lately. He smoothes it carefully, for it is a priceless sentiment amongst his collection of the things you so graciously give him. It's pathetic, but it's like holding your hand. It's like kissing you. It's like true love.

[adventuringblind]

Breaking Point

LandOscar x Reader

Genre: angst

Summary: the tragedy and revival of Lando Norris and Max's sister as told by mostly Lestappen

Warning: sexual and physical abuse. Panic attacks, hospitals, injury descriptions

Notes: I'm sorry to the Carlos girlies for my crimes. T_T he was just a good villain for this story, and I feel so bad about it because he's wickedly out of character.

Masterlist

When Max thought about his sister dating a driver, he thought that meant one. No, instead she's dragging Max to talk to her partners. Plural. Meaning: more then one.

It's not that he doesn't like it. It's just a little shocking, is all. He figured her and Lando would get together eventually since they were similar in age. He didn't know that Carlos was also in the picture.

But Carlos is good guy, loyal, a provider like Max himself.

Plus Carlos is Charles' teammate and they get long. Charles tells him all the time that they have a fun working relationship. The same Charles who is ready to murder Jos.

The Monegasque and him had gotten together in 2020 right after they came back from lockdown. They moat certainly did not follow protocols.

Charles has just dragged Max and his sister into the Leclerc family. A place that they feel welcomed and safe.

Needless to say that Charles adopted the protective older brother role over Max's sister. So when he starts noticing things happening around the garage with Carlos, he's immediately on the hunt for what's happening.

The first sign something has gone wrong is halfway through 2021, about six months into the relationship between Max's sister and her two partners. Living in an abusive household has give all the Verstappen children a unique was of sensing when somethings not right. And right now, it's written all over his sisters face as her and Lando are sitting in Max's driver room.

"How come you're here and not with Carlos?" He asked. They shared a wary glance and shrugged.

"Wanted to see you for a while." Was the excuse.

Charles is the next to notice something. A month after the first incident, he runs into the trio arguing around the side of the Ferrari garage. He listens for a while despite him knowing it's wrong, but he can't help it.

"Both of you are idiots! Am I the only one who cares about us?"

"No! It's just-"

"Shut up and leave me. I'll see you both tonight. Be ready for me."

Charles only peaks out from his hiding space after Carlos leaves. He can see the two shaking and reassuring each other.

But arguments happen all the time, right?

Charles and Max keep a closer eye on them after that. Both the younger seem to be isolating themselves and neither if the older is happy with that.

The next incident is one the should've never happened. Max regrets not seeing it sooner. Charles blames himself for nit seeing the signs.

Their off week in Monaco is an enjoyable one. Charles and Max had gone out to a club with his sister and her partners. They were to wrapped up in each other to really pay attention to what else was happening.

Max's phone rings at an ungodly hour. He looks at the caller ID and something twists inside of him.

"Lando? Everythi-"

"Apartment. Need you please."

Lando sounds winded on the other line and panicked. Then the call ends and Max is left in silence.

He thanks the adrenaline for being able to get Charles awake and into the car. It's a painfully slow drive.

The pair gets through the front desk easily and take the stairs two at a time. They stop at the door and Max tries to listen for anything.

Nothing. Silence. An eery quite that is unatraul for the trio.

Max bangs his fist on the door. There is movment from the otherside as a latch is undone.

Carlos stands blocking the door. "Max?"

"Hey, Lando called and said-"

"Lando called?"

Charles and Max share a look. The spainard doesn't seem right. He's out of breath, his clothes are messed up, and his eyes are rapidly scanning around the area behind them.

"Can we come in? Is he okay?" Charles asks, but receives no response. Max takes matters into his own hands. The little patience he has finally vanishing as he pushes past Carlos.

Max starts searching for his sister and the Brit while Charles confines a frantic Carlos to the kitchen. The apartment is wrecked. There is broken class on the floor of the bathroom.

He stops when he gets to the bedroom. The scene before him sends his stomach up his throat. Lando is frantically trying get his sister into clothes. She's unconscious and Lando is wrecked.

"Max!"

The Dutch jumps into action and attempts to asses the situation. It looks like they were probably having sex (as much as he hates to think about it). How had it gone so wrong?

"What do you need?" He'll ask what happened after they get situated.

"She's unconscious and hasn't woken up yet and I don't know what to do." He says it in one breath. Max registers how small he sounds and the tears on the Brits cheeks.

"How did it happen?"

Max tries to remain calm, but it's getting increasingly difficult to do so as Lando is shaking his head no and continues trying to hoist the girl into his arms, but his body isn't cooperating.

Max does it for him and bundles his sister into his arms. Lando nearly falls over just walking and Max has to call Charles for help.

"Lando- I didn't mean to-"

"Stay away, Carlos. You say that everytime but you never mean it."

A pang of guilty realization hits Max. Carlos had done this? But why? What was he trying to acheive?

The Spainard doesn't follow as they leave the building. He doesn't even try to stop them.

They end up in the emergency room. Lando had failed to mention he is also hurt and now is getting stitches down his back and a brace for his knee. Charles stays with Lando while Max sits with his sister. She's awake but unable to use her vocal chords for the next month at least.

Max is taken off guard when she starts frantically crying for Lando. He does his best at soothing her like his mom and Victoria used to do.

It's hours later when they finally get to leave. Charles sets them up in the guest room of the flat then comes and joins Max on the couch in the living area.

"I don't understand what happened in the slightest." Charles tosses his legs over Max's lap.

"I do. I saw what the room looked like. My sister was unconscious and tied to the headboard." Max chokes on the last part. As if growing up with Jos wasn't painful enough. He'd take her with him even before she was an adult. They worked so hard to heal from the horrors of that house.

"Sexual and physical then? Do you think they will tell the FIA? It could get Carlos dismissed from the sport."

Max shakes his head. There are so few people who even know about their upbringing still. Sure, most have an idea, but that doesn't give any details to how bad it had been.

"One day at a time."

~~~~~

Lando is very keen on not letting her get out of bed the next day despite her best efforts. She takes to yelling at him through text to speech to at least sit up so they can process the events.

They don't get that luxury as Max and Charles are dragging them out of bed for breakfast. It looks worse then it really is, in her head. She's dealt with worse. She could handle Carlos and his anger. One which technically hadn't been her fault but she'd rather it be her then Lando who had originally taken the brunt.

They finish eating in silence. She knows Max is going to get his answer eventually, so she nods at Lando to get him to explain. No point in drawing it out.

"Thank you for coming to get us last night." The Brit starts. His hands now becoming the most intresting thing.

"Are you going to tell us what happened?"

"Things were going well for a while. It was nice and we were all happy and in love and Carlos was sweet and caring."

"But?"

"But I'm not the most well behaved person..." There is a red tint on Lando's cheeks. "Carlos had been struggling with Ferrari and needed a reprieve, and we became that for him. It was consensual and stuff, but then it felt distant. He was doing things we hadn't agreed upon and getting progressively angrier. It became something neither of us looked forward to anymore."

She catches the two older boys' looks. Max is furious and Charles looks betrayed, in a way.

"He um-" Lando breaks. His breathing is more labored then before. The female takes his hand in her own and runs her free one down his spine. "-It escalated when he finally lost patience with me. It was really bad. I've never been so scared in my life. I safeworded out but he didn't listen. Then it kept happening. Max- your sister became your stand in."

Well she was hoping he wouldn't tell Max that part. He didn't need to know the details of what Carlos did.

"We tried to ask for help a few times. Jon walked into my room amd saw us frantically covering bruises. Then Carlos got more mad and more possessive."

"The argument outside of Ferrari. Carlos said he didn't want you guys to be exposed. I thought he meant the relationship." Charles' eyes cloud with guilt. The realization hits him harder then he'd like.

"Yesterday when we went out, I knew it was going to be hard. Carlos had been frustrated more often with Max and his own team so she'd gotten the brunt of the hits for the last month. Then this guy tried a move and it was a downward spiral from there." Lando trails off the story with a shrug and reassuring squeeze to her hand.

"What made you call?" Max is very clearly trying to restrain himself.

"He had a look to him like he wasn't even present. I went to get something for him and then called you. She was already unconscious at that point and Carlos was freaking out so he stared throwing things which is how I got the cut on my back."

Max determines that they will be staying with him until further notice. He tells the staff at the front desk to not let Carlos up. They also end up having to block his number due to the sheer number of texts and missed calls.

Daniel ends up finding out because Carlos won't leave the McLaren space alone. The Austrailian becomes more like a guard dog armed with a friendly smile.

Her and Lando already had a strong bond, but sharing such an experience certainly pulls them closer together.

Things get better one pain stakingly day at a time. Aside from their polar opposite responses. Max says he's getting whiplash from it and Daniel says a few times Zak might have a stroke if Lando keeps up like he is.

Lando had become oddly defiant. He already was in certain ways, but now it's just leaking over into his everyday life. Like setting a oundary wasn't enough, being a brat in the bedroom isn't enough, simply saying no isn't an option. Lando is blatantly defiant and struggles to take any kind d of direction.

Versus his female counterpart who is much quieter. She does anything that anybody asks her to do. She rolls over for them. Because it's better to do that then make it worse for herself. A thing she learned from living with Jos.

Where Lando goes looking for attention, she is avoiding it at all costs. Nobody is sure anymore of how to help them and therapy is a slow process.

Charles reminds Max daily. "One step at a time."

~~~~~

Oscar wasn't sure about his rookie season. His entrance into the sport was not the best and he's received so much backlash that he's prepared for copious amounts if hate.

Lando is friendly with him. Certainly doesn't let himself get close, but he's there for emotional support and advice.

They warm up to eachother eventually. Lando even introduces his girlfriend to him and it feels like he's been succesful in creating some kind of trust between them. Not in a 'your my favorite person' kind of way, but a budding friendship at least.

Oscar, who is just trying to get through his rookie season, manages to screw it all up. How, You may ask, did he do this? Simple, he broke the number one rule of falling for his teammate and his girlfriend. They were not supposed to do this to him! How is he supposed to move forward normally when all he wants to do is join their cuddling session in Lando's room?! All they do is comment him and cheer him up and it does something to his brain that he doesn't like.

Well - he does like it and to much at that.

He'd been in enough relashonships over his life to pick out certain things. Namely, who is typically the more do.inate one. Whether that be life decisions or in the bedroom, it really doesn't matter, but Oscar can clearly see neither of them are.

This leaves Oscar with two options. He can leave them alone and pune in silence, or he can ask Max his opinion because the Dutch driver is honest. He chooses the Latter.

Oscar knocks on the door of the room and hears some shuffling. It swings open and it's obvious Max wasn't expecting him. Chest exposed for anyone walking by to see.

"Oscar? If this is about Lando and my sister then you can come in. Otherwise, leave me alone."

"The first one."

Max steps aside and let's Oscar in. He's met with a sprawled out Charles on the bed who is also only in sweats.

"Oscar?"

"Charles?"

"He's here about the children."

"Oh good! Please end my suffering."

Oscar drags out a chair and sits down. His mind is running every possibility of what this means. "How do I end your suffering?"

Max looks him dead in the eye. "They won't shut up about you and I'm tired of them waking me up everytime there is a decision to be made. They need reassuring for everything even if they agree. And I love my sister, but I also love to sleep."

"They talk about me?"

Charles groans in annoyance. "Non stop, mate. It never ends. Oscar this and Oscar that." He mocks.

"But before you do anything you should know that they've been through some shit together. If you hurt them after they've done so much to heal, I will not hesitate to send you into the barrier."

He thanks Max for the... encouragement? Threat? Both? And then leaves. He goes straight for Lando's room at the Hilton next.

He knocks and again gets met with a sleepy Lando. Cmust be something about tonight specifically because Lando only sleep at inconvenient times.

"Oscar! Everything alright? You look like you've run a mile or somwthing."

Oscar fumbles. He forgot how hard feeling can be. Lando let's him in and he almost just breaks. Both of them were probably all comfortable in bed before he ruined it.

"Osc? Seriously mate? If something is wrong you can tell us."

Fuck it, he's already come this far. Might as well throw all caution to the wind.

He smashes his lips down onto Lando's and pulls off. He's going to get addicted if he doesn't pull back now.

There is no response. A shared look between the two and then a smirk from the Brit which throws Oscar off entirely.

"So you think you can handle me then?"

~~~~~

Lando is very please with the way things have turned out. The duo is back to a trio with Oscar now involved.

It's a different dynamic then it was with Carlos. The Austrailian is more gentle then the Spainard ever was.

They haven't told Oscar all of the details yet. Just that he should be wary of Carlos because he can go overboard and get possessive despite them not dating anymore. Lando won't admit it to himself that sometimes he worries Carlos will actually try something that will have long term consequences.

Oscar, for what it's worth, has fended off Carlos on and off track. He's also more perceptive then Lando had initially though. Or he's just really bad at hiding his emotions. He picks up and where not to touch, things that trigger the two, their reactions to certain events. Oscar doesn't pry, but Lando knows he's catching on.

The hardest part to work through had been the sexual aspect. Talking about it only does so much after a certain point. Prior to Oscar, they'd slowly started to do things. They'd done a few joint counseling sessions that helped them talk through a plan and set some boundaries.

The Australian doesn't push to do anything. But finally, they get to a point where they can talk about it with him. The pair is certainly nervous, but he respects them, asks questions, and clarifies his own boundaries. It's such a drastic turn around from what they had before.

Oscar's patience doesn't waiver, and as they build up confidence, he also gets a but more bold. It just - it works. Lando isn't sure exactly to describe it other then he feels safe, loved, and wanted at all times of the day and it's not just from one half of his partners.

Eventually Lando is able to slip back into the, much more defiant, version of himself. It's fun seeing just how long it takes Oscar to break.

The answer: he doesn't.

That much is made apparent when the trio, Max, and Charles go out for dinner and Lando decideds to test the limits.

Admittedly, he probably went to far. But in his defense Oscar was obviously not giving him any attention. He wasn't meaning to do what he did, it was an accident, and he apologized immediately, but Oscar never wavered. Barely batted an eye at him.

He left Lando with a smirk and a 'We'll sort this later.' They did and Lando was sore the next morning.

They fall into a rhythm. Pre-race kisses and post race cuddles.

Then Carlos shows up again.

~~~~~

She could tell by the radio that Oscar was disappointed with his race. His car had taken damage from Carlos and he'd lost position because of it.

He'd been keeping it off track until recently. Now he's getting more aggressive and frankly, it scares her.

Her and Lando are wary as they walk into his room in the McLaren hospitality. They enter without knocking but Oscar is laying on the ground with his arms open.

"I need a hug."

They oblige and fall onto the floor with him.

"Is it bad that I-"

"If you really need it then we can." She giggles, stopping him before he can get in his head to much.

"How'd you know?!"

"Mate, you're laying on the floor and these suits don't hide everything."

It's so different compared to Carlos. Oscar checks in every few minutes. Reminds them they can say no at any point. It's almost therapeutic, in a way.

They are all very naked and vulnerable at the moment. Which is horrible considering the door isn't locked. Which would normally be fine since it's a rule to knock before entering. In this case, however. It's awful because Carlos has just opened the door wide open.

She freezes; suddenly aware of every sound and feeling around her. Lando manhandles her body behind him and pulls something, a small throw blanket, to cover them. She feels guilty for not giving it to Oscar and leaving him to fend for himself.

Lando's breathing is labored. Her throat hurts from the last encounter they had. The memory burned into her. Her voice strains thinking about it as tears well in her eyes.

"You really couldn't knock? You just had towalk in on us to, as if you hadn't done enough already?"

"Glad to see nothings changed. They're still whores and eventually going to play you."

"Haven't done it yet mate. Personally, I think they are very loyal."

Oscar stand and puts his clothes back on. Almost like Carlos isn't even there.

"Also, for the record, if somebody looks at you with the fear they are, you've fucked up badly. Now if you'll excuse me I have two lovers I need to comfort."

Oscar slams the door on Carlos. Then he pulls clothes back onto both of them. More specifically, his clothes.

"Alright, I didn't want to ask before and figured you'd tell me what Carlos did on your own time. We are officially out of time. I promise to sit here and listen and you can take as much time as you need."

And they broke. Huddled all together and spilling every detail of what drove them this far. Oscar listened intently, validated feelings, and didn't judge. He tensed every occasionally at hearing what Carlos did, but aside from that, he tries not to show his anger.

"I'm going to make a call, alright?"

~~~~~

Max is angry. He's seeing Red and it's not just because Charles is two steps in front of him In a Ferrari shirt.

No, he's upset because Oscar called him and said his sister is crying. The Austrailian is going to have a fist to the face when he sees him. Which isn't long because they are outside of the hospitality building.

Max gets a grip of Oscar's shoulders and starts ranting. He's not even aware of half the stuff he's saying. He doesn't snap out of it until he feels Charles tap his shoulder and tell him his sister has been talking to him for the last few minutes.

Max is about to apoligize for misreading the situation. Then Carlos comes into Oscar's line of sight and the Dutch realizes that even he has a breaking point. A snapping point, more like.

Max is instantly grateful he's gripping Oscar's because the Australian is fighting to get a hold of Carlos. The Spainard is spewing vile thing directed at his sister and Lando.

It becomes a fight between Oscar trying to escape while Max and Charles keep him from doing something he can't take back.

"Oscar!" The pair comes to eye level with him. "He's not worth risking your career." He seems to come to his senses and relaxs. Max and Charles both ease away tentatively.

And Max regrets it instantly as Oscar walks right up to him, but lays not a finger on Carlos.

"Honestly Carlos, was it not enough to break them sexually? Physically? You also feel the need to humiliate them? How would the paddock feel if they knew what you truly are?" It's said just loud enough to elicit a few whispers.

Max and his Monegasque partner (who is also mad at Carlos still) bring the trio to their room and make sure they are okay. He hates leaving his sister like this, but he can rest easy knowing she's in good hands.

"Hey Max?"

"Yeah Charlie?"

"I guess it's the people who are the most patient who snap the hardest, huh?"

And Max couldn't have said it better himself. Maybe it's a good thing he's not patient...

[patrixjia]

Heat of The Moment

Plot Overview

You’re an independent songwriter tasked with writing a collaborative track for Stray Kids. What should have been your dream gig turns into a nightmare thanks to last-minute deadlines and your strained creative energy. You clash immediately with Bang Chan—too confident for his own good and infuriatingly talented. He insists on late-night studio sessions, constantly pushes back on your ideas, and doesn’t seem to know how to take no for an answer.

One night, when tension reaches its peak, an explosive argument in the recording studio leads to unexpected sparks. With tempers flaring and boundaries slipping, the heat between you boils over into something far more primal. The lines between frustration and desire blur, leaving you both vulnerable to feelings that neither of you wanted—or planned for.

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fanfiction created for entertainment purposes only. I do not own or claim any affiliation with Bang Chan, Stray Kids, or their management. The events and characters depicted in this story are entirely fictional and do not reflect real-life personalities, actions, or relationships.

This story contains mature themes and is intended for audiences 18 and older. Reader discretion is advised.

━━━━━━━━━━━☾✧✦✧☽━━━━━━━━━━━

The studio air was thick with frustration. It wasn't the equipment, the hours, or even the looming deadline - it was him.

Bang Chan sat sprawled in his chair like a king, his dark eyes fixed on you with infuriating calmness. You could practically feel the smugness radiating off him as he leaned back, one arm lazily draped over the chair's edge, his lips twitching upward in what could only be described as a challenge.

"Again", he said, his voice low and maddeningly smooth.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling with restrained fury. "We've already gone over this again five times! The hook works, the track flows, and it's done. You just want me to sit here all night because you've decided sleep is optional."

He didn't even flinch. If anything, that smirk grew sharper. "It's not about sleep. It's about getting it right. This?" He gesture at the speakers like he was dismissing a bad meal. "This isn't right."

You turned, fully intending to argue, but the look on his face stopped you. It wasn't disdain or boredom - it was focus. Relentless, unshakable focus.

You hated that he looked good while being such a pain. His hair was a little messy, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that you were doing your best not to notice, and he had that maddening way of looking at you like he was already one step ahead.

But this wasn't about how good he looked. It was about the fact that he was driving you insane.

"Why don't you just write it yourself?" you snapped.

Chan shrugged, the movement deliberate. "Because i want to see what you've got. You're suppose to be the best, right? Prove it."

The arrogance in his voice set something off in you. Your hands slammed against the desk, the sound echoing in the studio. "You don't think I'm good enough?!"

"I think," he said, standing and crossing the room toward you, his footsteps slow and deliberate, "you're holding back. And I'm not interested in 'good enough'. I want something that hits harder."

By the time he stopped in front of you, the air felt charged. He wasn't touching you, but he didn't need to. His presence was overwhelming, his eyes locked on yours with a heat that send your pulse racing.

"Well," you said, refusing to back down, "maybe you should stop breathing down my neck and let me work."

Chan tilted his head, his smirk turning into something more dangerous. "Maybe you like it."

Your breath hitched, but you didn't flinch. "Don't flatter yourself."

The hours stretched on, the tension between you crackling like static. You were at the piano, furiously reworking the melody, while Chan sat behind you, watching. Always watching.

"Play the last part again," he said, his voice softer now but no less insistent.

You obeyed - if only to avoid another argument. Your fingers stumbled lightly, the fatigue of the night finally catching up with you.

"That's not it," he murmured, standing and moving to your side. "Here, let me."

You bristled but scooted over just enough for him to sit. His hands brushed against yours as he reached for the keys, and the warmth of his skin sent a jolt up your arm.

"That's not-"

"Relax," he said, his voice so close that you felt it more than heard it. His hands moved confidently over the keys, the melody shifting under his touch, morphing into something richer, heavier. "See?"

You hated that it sounded better. You hated him. And yet, you couldn't pull your eyes away.

"Show-off," you muttered, hoping to break the spell.

Chan laughed softly, his voice low and teasing. "You're cute when you're mad."

Your head whipped toward him. "What did you just said?"

He turned to face you fully, his face so close that your noses almost brushed. His smile was infuriatingly calm. "I said, you're cute when you're mad. What are you gonna do about it?"

Your jaw tightened, but before you could retort, his gaze dropped to your lips, lingering just enough to set your skin on fire.

It happened all at once. One second, you were glaring at him, and the next, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was fire and frustration, a tangle of heat and tension that exploded in the small studio. Your back hit the piano as he leaned into you, his hands framing your face, tilting it up to deepen the kiss.

You gasped, and his tongue slid against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands moved to your waist, gripping you firmly, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

“This,” you managed to gasp between kisses, “is a terrible idea.”

“Probably,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with want. “But you started it.”

You shoved at his chest, though your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “You kissed me!”

His laugh was low and wicked as he nipped at your jawline, his hands slipping under your shirt to skim along your sides. “And you didn’t stop me.”

Chan’s mouth was on yours again, hot and demanding, as he pressed you back against the piano. The weight of him, the way his hands gripped your waist, sent your pulse skyrocketing.

“You’re infuriating,” you gasped, your fingers curling into his shirt, tugging him closer.

“And you’re impossible,” he shot back, his voice rough, lips brushing against your jaw before moving lower.

His mouth left a scorching trail along your neck, and you felt yourself arch into him as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin there.

Your hands slipped under his shirt, fingers tracing along the ridges of his muscles, eliciting a low sound from him that made heat pool in your stomach.

“Touchy,” you teased, though your voice was breathless.

His response was a low chuckle, muffled as his mouth moved lower, his hands now sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice dark and rough, though his fingers lingered teasingly along the edge of your waistband.

You didn’t answer—didn’t want him to stop—so instead, you grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head.

The sight of him—flushed skin, wild hair, and that insufferable grin—shouldn’t have made your knees weak, but it did.

“You’re staring,” he said, voice teasing, though his eyes were anything but playful.

“You’re in my way,” you shot back, pulling him to you again, crashing your mouth against his.

This time, it was frantic, all pretense stripped away as hands wandered and clothes were pulled at—shirts discarded onto the studio floor, his jeans pressing into your thighs as he lifted you onto the piano bench.

The sound of the piano keys clanging beneath you should have been comical, but it only fueled the tension as his mouth found yours again, his hands sliding to grip your hips and pull you closer—until there was nothing between you but thin fabric and the weight of all the things you couldn’t say aloud.

With a swift motion, Chan flipped you back, his body now hovering over you, the heat radiating off him almost overwhelming. “You think you can just take charge?” he challenged, his voice low and teasing.

You smirked, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Maybe I can show you how it’s done.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, really?”

You leaned in, capturing his mouth again, your bodies pressed together, the warmth between you palpable. His hands slid up your thighs, fingers brushing the edge of your shorts, teasing but not crossing the line.

“Is this what you wanted?” you breathed against his lips, your own pulse racing with the thrill of being in control. “Something that hits harder?”

He chuckled, the sound low and inviting, “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

With a swift motion, he flipped you back again, his body now solidly over yours, the weight of him deliciously grounding. “But I’m going to show you.”

His mouth found yours again, but this time, it was urgent, a claim that sent shivers down your spine. You gasped as his hands explored further, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shorts, teasingly inching toward the waistband.

"Chan,” you breathed, the thrill of anticipation mixing with the heat of his touch. “You’re insatiable.”

“And you love it,” he replied, voice thick with desire, as he pressed his body against yours, the piano creaking beneath the weight of your shared urgency.

“Maybe,” you admitted, a grin breaking through as he captured your mouth again, the world around you fading into a blur.

His hands slipped under your shorts, fingers brushing against your skin, and you moaned softly, arching into his touch. The sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, igniting a fire deep within you.

“I want you,” you gasped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I want all of you.”

His eyes darkened with desire, and in that moment, you knew there was no turning back. He kissed you fiercely, and as the world around you faded, you surrendered to the overwhelming need that had built between you.

Chan's lips were relentless against yours, each kiss igniting a fire that spread through your entire body. His hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of you as if memorizing your shape. The world outside the studio faded into nothingness; it was just you and him, lost in the heat of the moment.

“Are you sure?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and searching. “I don’t want to rush you.”

You felt your heart race at the sincerity in his voice, but the urgency of the moment drowned out any hesitation. “I’m sure,” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within you. “I want this.”

His smirk returned, a mixture of satisfaction and wickedness, and he leaned in again, capturing your mouth as if sealing the promise of what was to come. You could feel the muscles in his arms flex as he held you against the piano, the heat radiating from his body enveloping you.

With a swift motion, he pulled you closer, his hands gripping your thighs as he shifted, positioning you to straddle him fully. The sensation sent another wave of heat through you, the feel of him beneath you amplifying the tension that had been building all night.

"Chan,” you gasped, feeling the rush of exhilaration mixed with a hint of nervousness. “Please...”

“Just wait,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m just getting started.”

As if to prove his point, his hands moved back to your waist, guiding you as you began to grind against him. The friction was intoxicating, and you let out a soft moan, the sound echoing in the dimly lit studio.

“Like that?” he teased, watching you with an intensity that made your cheeks burn.

“More,” you urged, craving the connection, the way he made you feel alive and desired.

He obliged, his grip tightening as he helped you find a rhythm, the two of you moving together in a way that felt both primal and electrifying. You lost yourself in the sensation, every touch, every kiss igniting something deeper within you.

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. The praise sent a thrill through you, pushing you to go faster, to feel more.

You leaned forward, locking eyes with him as you whispered, “Show me how incredible I can be.”

His response was a low growl, and in an instant, he flipped you back, pinning you beneath him once more. The shift was exhilarating, and you reveled in the feeling of being completely at his mercy. He leaned down, capturing your mouth again, and the kiss was fierce and demanding, filled with all the pent-up frustration and heat that had been building between you.

His hands roamed freely, exploring every inch of your body, his fingers igniting fire wherever they touched. You gasped as he slipped a hand beneath your shorts again, teasingly brushing against your most sensitive spots, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Chan, please,” you pleaded, the urgency in your voice echoing the frantic beating of your heart.

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” he responded, his voice low and gravelly, the promise laced within it making your breath hitch.

You could hardly think straight, the need for him overwhelming. “I want you inside me,” you confessed, the words spilling out with a desperation you couldn’t hide.

His eyes darkened with desire at your admission, and he nodded, his expression turning serious. “Okay. But we’re doing this right.”

He took a moment to rummage through his bag, pulling out a small packet. You watched, breathless and eager, as he prepared, the anticipation building to a fever pitch.

"Strip for me, sweet girl," he said as he returned to you, helping you take off your clothes, taking a second to admire you. "Even more beautiful than i imagined."

You looked at him, with big, vulnerable eyes. "You imagine this?"

His gaze soften for a moment, "From the day you walked in this studio from the first time."

His hands found your waist again, fingers digging in as he positioned himself at your entrance. “Ready?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“More than ready,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, and with that, he pushed inside you.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and fullness that made you arch against him, gasping at the intensity of it all. He filled you completely, stretching you in a way that left you breathless.

“Just like that,” he urged, his voice thick with desire as he began to move, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. You felt every inch of him, the way he filled you up, and it was almost too much to bear.

“Chan,” you moaned, your body responding instinctively to his rhythm, the heat between you growing with every movement.

He leaned down, capturing your lips again, the kiss deepening as he lost himself in you. You could feel the way he filled you, the way your bodies moved together, and it felt absolutely electric.

“Faster,” you urged, urging him on, your nails digging into his shoulders as you pulled him closer.

He obliged, his pace quickening, the sounds of your bodies moving together filling the studio as you both succumbed to the pleasure building between you. Each thrust sent you spiraling closer to the edge, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you thought you might burst.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice hoarse with need. “I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Neither am I,” you gasped, the pleasure reaching a crescendo. “Just a little more.”

With a few more powerful thrusts, the tension snapped, and you came undone, the waves of ecstasy crashing over you as your body quaked beneath him.

“Yeah, just like that,” he breathed, his own release following closely behind, the feeling of him filling you driving you to new heights as you clung to each other, lost in the moment.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you both collapsed against each other, breaths mingling in the stillness of the studio. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, tangled together in the aftermath of your shared passion.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your uneven breathing and the faint hum of the studio equipment. You sat slumped against Chan, your heart still pounding as you tried to collect yourself.

“Well,” he finally said, his voice a low rasp, “that was… productive.”

You swatted weakly at his chest, though you couldn’t stop the small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “Shut up.”

He tilted his head back with a quiet laugh, his fingers tracing lazy circles along your skin. “You’re not gonna fight me on the hook anymore, are you?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you muttered, though the bite in your voice was gone.

Chan looked down at you, his expression softer now. “Guess I finally got your best work out of you, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but when his hand slid back to your waist, tugging you closer, you didn’t resist.

“Maybe you’re not entirely useless after all,” you teased, brushing your lips against his again.

His laugh rumbled against your mouth as he kissed you back, slow and unhurried this time—like you had all the time in the world.

“Careful,” he murmured. “You’re starting to like me.”

You pulled away just enough to meet his gaze, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t let it go to your head, Bang Chan.”

But the smirk on his face told you it was already too late.

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 5

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n apparently it has been 28 days since the last chapter, but the good news is i now have 4 chapters written in advance so january at least will have content. for those who haven't seen the random announcements on my blog, i've been sick and honestly probably will be again in january so your patience is appreciated, and i'm sorry, i'm not usually this sporadic with a project like this! to my editing team, who are feeling betrayed seeing this surprise chapter in their notifications, my chrissy new years gift to you is not asking for edits in the holiday season, roast me in the chat if anything is wrong (keeps, that last part doesn't apply to you)

previous | masterlist | next

---

Even as you knock on the door to the studio, you're nervous.

Maybe you shouldn't be; it's been nearly a month exactly now, and you're fairly sure at this point that none of the boys hate you, though calling some of them friends has been easier said than done. Maybe that's why you're nervous in the first place, because it's been so long and you're still unsure where you stand within the group, especially with the one you're supposed to meet now...

It's not your fault. Well, maybe it is a little bit - you're aware that you're struggling to relax in their company, the way you had with the girls in Midnight or other trainees. But your schedules are so different too, you only see the others in practise, or in passing in the halls. Some days you practise on your own, while they are off on one schedule or another, living the life of idols that have built up their name, other days only half of them are there. Sometimes there is no dance practise scheduled at all, their own individual lessons or other commitments taking precedence.

It won't be like this forever, you just keep telling yourself. Three weeks more, and then you debut with the rest of them, and you're part of the group for real. Three weeks of hard work, and then, maybe, it gets easier.

Maybe. You've thought that before, only for an opportunity to slip away through your fingers. You wouldn't be surprised if it happened again.

The door opens - Chan, leaning over from his chair to tug on the door handle before he returns to his desk. "Come in," he says warmly, an arm gesturing you towards the couch behind him. It's already occupied by Changbin, who makes you smile when he gives you a hello and a wave. "Sit with me," he says, in Korean and then again in broken English, patting the cushions. "I'll be quiet, I promise."

You're reminded suddenly of how loud he can be, during practises or even when everyone is just sitting around, but you hesitate to mention it, sitting quietly beside him instead. "You can tell him to leave if you want," Chan adds, his back turning to his laptop. "He's not actually here for anything important."

"I'm here for emotional support," Changbin claims, only he puts on such a voice as he says it that it makes both of you laugh. "It's an important job."

"Okay, well." Chan's hands spread, like he doesn't have any say in the situation. "If you don't need support, you can tell him to leave."

"He can stay," you answer readily, and you don't really doubt your answer at all. Out of all the members, Changbin has been one of the friendliest; he'd been so warm and accepting on your first day, and gone out of his way in days since to talk to you or pull you into a joke when you were on the outskirts watching. Even if he was only doing it because you looked pathetically out of place among them, you appreciated it. 

"Cool," Chan says, and then he shifts in his chair like he's uncomfortable, his eyes straying towards his laptop momentarily. "So. I wanted to talk to you about the comeback."

"I figured as much," you reply, aware that your hands are fidgeting nervously in your lap.

Chan's mouth opens, like he's going to say something, and then he hesitates, glancing away again. Apprehension rises in your throat, bitter like the taste of bad coffee as you swallow it back down again. It's one thing if you're nervous - but if he is unsure about what he's about to say too, then it could be-

"I've thought about it, and I've decided that you're not going to debut with us on this album."

Bad.

Your heart stops and then starts again, your chest tightening around your lungs even though you've heard this story before. It shouldn't even surprise you by now, the let-down; thinking you might have now, finally, done the work and reaped the reward, and yet every time you seem to let the hope creep into your chest just so that you can crumble twice as hard. You hadn't even realised you'd become this married to the idea of joining Stray Kids in the last three weeks, and yet the idea of getting dropped again hurts like a pain in your chest.

This was your last chance. No one else will debut you. The world isn't that kind of kind.

"Okay," you say, through a jaw that feels like it won't move enough to form the words. "It's - I understand. I'm sorry that I couldn't do it."

"Hang on," Chan says, a hand hovering between you like he's ready to catch you if you turn to leave. "Just hear me out - it's not that you're not good enough, okay? I just think it will help you if we wait a little bit longer, and the company were happy to agree."

"You've worked hard," Changbin says beside you, his face earnest. "No one thinks you can't do it."

"No," Chan agrees. "I'm just looking at the timeline, and the schedule they've drawn up for you, and I think you'd do much better if we push debut back to our next comeback in September."

September. Three more months away, rather than three weeks; three more months to push through, nose to the grindstone, that deadline looming over your head. Three more months in which someone might realise they've made a grave mistake and pull you right back out again, when you'd been so close to that finish line. Three more months feeling like an imposter in these boys' lives, waiting for life to even out into some kind of normal.

"Is that okay?" Chan asks, and you bite down the spiral of thoughts that pulls your mind down towards a big, black hole and nod, trying to pretend that it's nothing. The frown on his face doesn't look convinced, nor does the sheet of paper that he reaches behind him to fetch, shoving it into your hands.

"I want you to understand," he says as you look down at the paper, forcing your fingers to only hold it gently before you can rip it. A schedule, the next three weeks of your life laid out in a neat little chart that is detailed down to the minute and overflowing with things to do. "This is the choice they've given us; either we push you through this schedule and extra dance practise and debut in three weeks, or we wait sixteen weeks, and you do all of these things with the rest of us in a reasonable timeframe. I've been looking at it all week, and...I think it's too much. Waiting gives us a song prepared for nine members, takes the pressure off of the managers, gives you time to get to know everyone..."

You're forced to swallow the lump in your throat as you read the schedule and realise that Chan is right; the next week is full of photoshoots and content creation, with no room left for the dance practise you know you need to keep up with. It's rushed, and it's daunting, and at first look you're not really sure at all how you would handle everything. It's the life you've been training for for years now, and yet so many of the things on this list you feel like you haven't trained for at all.

"You're right," you admit, around a tongue that sits too heavy in your mouth. "I don't know why they thought this would work in the first place, when I'm so-"

"Someone high up had a great idea, and wanted it seen through as fast as possible," Chan says before you can finish. "Stray Kids haven't had a really...successful year. Maybe they were thinking of dropping us unless something changed, maybe they just really liked you. They've already agreed to push your debut back to September anyway, so it's not something we need to worry about now."

"As long as they still think it's a good idea in September," you say, and you manage to keep your tone light even though it doesn't sound much like a joke to you at all.

Changbin is the one to speak up, his hand slapping the arm of the couch. "They can't mess with us like that," he declares in the kind of voice that says he has complete confidence in what he says. "You want to be in Stray Kids, you're in Stray Kids, and you're not leaving."

"Exactly," Chan says warmly, and you manage to muster up a smile even though that tension still squeezes tight in your chest at the thought of another three months of limbo, not knowing if you'll stay or if you'll go. "Now," he says, turning back to his laptop, "I have better news; I've got a part for you in God's Menu that I want to hear, and I can play the next title track for you..."

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98

[genderlessghoul]

Hey so remember when I wrote a small fic about trans Phantom using tape to bind for the first time and it went like shit?

Anyway, I wrote a tape redemption arc and it's under the cut! It's just around 600 words-ish.

“Come in!”

Dew calls out after hearing a shy knock on his door. He doesn't need to look up to know who's on the other side, the faint scent of lavender and woodsmoke betrays Phantom before he even walks through the door. The quintessence ghoul walks in sheepishly and closes the door behind him, something nervous about the way he carries himself that immediately catches Dew's attention.

“What is it?” the fire ghoul asks with a cocked eyebrow as he sets down his book (something about mermaids that Rain suggested to him) and sits up in bed. Phantom holds up a roll of kinesiology tape and a pair of scissors, his tail wrapped around his leg in worried anticipation. He doesn't even need to say a word before Dew's on his feet, taking the roll from him and leading him deeper into the room. It's been months since Phantom's first attempt at binding with tape and it didn't exactly go well. He knows the younger ghoul still has some scars on his back from the experience. Dew leads him near his desk so he can work while standing up. He takes off the other's shirt.

“You took a shower?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn't put on any kind of body butter?”

“No.”

“Good.”

As he starts cutting strips of the tape, Dew notices how the quintessence ghoul opted for black, this time. He can't help but think that, at least, it won't stick out like a sore thumb, this time. Phantom seems to read his mind and lets out a dry chuckle.

“It fits my colour scheme better.”

“It does. You sure you wanna do this? We don't have to.”

“I know… But I figured I'd go back to it sooner or later. And if I don't do this now, I feel like I'm gonna chicken out forever.”

“Fair enough. Just don't go ripping it out raw again, okay?”

Phantom laughs nervously at that.

“Been there, done that. Never again.”

“Good boy.”

The quintessence ghoul melts a little at the praise and Dew gets to work. He instructs the other to lift his arms so he can lay the first pieces of tape.

Phantom keeps his arms up while the fire ghoul works on him. He finds a lot of comfort in his warm fingers and the ease with which Dew applies the strips. He wishes now more than ever that he'd gone to him the first time, instead of experimenting all by himself in his cold bathroom. At least, he'd learned what not to do. His eyes find Dew's mirror and he watches him work, trying to commit the techniques to memory, although he could get used to the pampering.

“How'd you figure out how to do it right?”

“Lotsa practice.”

The fire ghoul finishes his work and pats Phantom's sides a couple times.

“Lots of asking around, too.”

To which the younger ghoul rolls his eyes.

“I get it, I should come to you more…”

“It doesn't have to be me, baby bat, I just don't want you to mess up your body.”

They stay silent for a moment while the quintessence ghoul puts his shirt back on. He stretches his arms out, relishing in how comfortable the tape is this time around. He even finds himself smiling at his own reflection.

“You don't have to take care of me so much… I'm not complaining at all, I appreciate it more than I can tell you, I just… Thank you.”

“Don't mention it, Ant. I um… I remember what it was like to be in your place. And I wish I had someone back then to show me a thing or two, to tell me it was gonna be okay.”

Phantom doesn't quite know how to react to Dew's words. As long as he'd know him, the fire ghoul hasn't talked much about his own experience, only ever spoken with his actions. The moment is short lived, however, when Dew turns back to him and claps his hands together.

“Alright, loser, down for a game of Mario Kart?”

[fangirlstorycreator]

CK Terry Silver X Reader

Context: You have been feeling very unwell, and no matter what doctor you see, they just won't listen. But Terry is hear for you, and with his help, the answer to your illness is finaly revealed 💚

For months now, this awful pain has been ruining your life, it had been absolutely terrible. It was effecting you everyday, at least three times a day, even more sometimes. You noticed you tended to feel it the worst when you were eating or drinking a lot at once. You had seen every pediatrician in your local doctors for an answer, nothing. You then went to another doctors surgery, in hopes that a new person with a different perspective might know what's wrong with you. But yet again, noone could diagnose you or give you any help or advice. This had been going on for weeks but it felt so much longer, and Terry had been trying everything he could to help you. One night, Terry had just come back home from the dojo, still in his uniform, when he tried calling out to you.

"Sweetheart?....Sweetheart?......Y/N?"

When he got no response from you, even though your car was in the drive way, he knew something was up. He made his way through the house, before seeing you curled up in a ball, sat beside the bath with red raw eyes and tears staining your cheeks.

"Oh sweetheart!"

He says in a panic as he quickly kneels infront of you, wiping away your tears and holding your hand.

"You look like your in so much pain! Why didn't you call me? I would have been hear within minutes, you know that"

"I know babe, I know....but you've been like this with me for too long....I can't stand this anymore! No doctor or nurse will listen to me and I KNOW something is wrong with me. I can't stand this anymore, it just hurts so much"

"I know sweetheart, come hear"

He holds you in his arms as he let's you cry it out, he hated seeing you in so much physical and emotional pain.

"Have you managed to eat anything today?"

"I'm too scared to Terry, it hurts everytime I eat something, and I can't deal with this anymore"

"What about some soup? Just a little? Please sweetheart, you've lost so much weight from this, I'm worried for you"

He gives you a kiss on the forhead, trying to make you feel a little more at ease, but it doesn't work very much.

"Your right, I have lost weight, but I'd rather be too skinny than in pain all the time"

"Right! That's it! I can't have the woman I love struggling like this. Let's get some clothes and essentials packed up, I'm taking you to the hospital. And we're not leaving until someone helps you"

"What's the point Terry? Noone listens to me, so many doctors have told me it's all in my head. I don't know if I can hear more people telling me that"

"Sweetheart, you have been, and still are a very healthy woman with no history of illness in your family. The fact that it's a physical pain and it hasn't been anything you felt before, MUST be something wrong. Let me help you up, I'll pack your stuff while you just try to breathe through the pain, ok?"

"Ok babe"

He puts his hands under your arms to slowly help you to your feet, and guides you to the bed. Letting you sit down, he gets a bag and starts packing things for you, and him too. He wasn't going to leave you unless necessary. Once he did that, he put the stuff in the car, then came back and helped you into the passengers seat, even putting on your belt. One of the things he did pack was a file of all the things you have been tested for, and any diagnoses doctors have given you, that we're never confirmed. This hospital you were going to had been recommended by a friend of Terry, apparently his friend had gone in there for a simple check up, but they're checks were so good that they found an undiagnosed issue that could have cost him his life. This was the only place Terry could think of, he hoped that someone there would have an answer for you. He walked with you into the hospital, and the lady behind the front desk could already see that you were very unwell. She could see the pain and discomfort you were in, the dark and slightly red bags under your eyes, the pale skin and the shaking as you held onto Terry's hand for dear life.

"Hello, my name is Terry Silver, and this is my partner. She needs to see someone right now. We've seen every local doctor, pediatrician and nurse, and noone can find out what's wrong with her. She needs help, real help, and we're not leaving until someone does just that"

"Of course Mr Silver, your partner is clearly unwell. Let me take you both to a room upstairs"

She was very understanding, and took you and Terry to a room where a nurse helped you into a hospital gown and got you comfortable in a bed of your own room. A few minutes later, a male doctor called Dr James came in and started to speak to you both.

"Good evening Miss L/N and Mr Silver, what can I do for you tonight?"

"Doctor James, for a very long time I have been having this awful pain right hear. I've been to so many people who have misdiagnosed me, and noone seems to know what's wrong with me"

"I see, well we're going to do some tests on you, but we can't until you have fasted for a certain time. We'll keep you comfortable until then, and as soon as your ready, we'll test for what's the cause of your pain"

"Thank you"

Terry gave the doctor the file of all your previous misdiagnosed illnesses, so he can plan what to do.

"Do you think this doctor will find out what's wrong with me?"

"I really hope so sweetheart. I know, and you know that there IS something wrong with you, and this IS going to stop"

He says as he gently squeezes your hand.

"Thank you Terry, I love you"

"I love you too"

Later that night, the doctor starts to administer the tests, and you had your fingers crossed for anything that this doctor could find out. However, it would seem that it hadn't worked very well. The tests all came back negative, and he had no idea what was actually the cause. This destroyed you inside, why wouldn't there be any evidence of your pain? Why?

"I'm very sorry Miss L/N, but I'm afraid the tests came back negative"

"But there HAS to be something doctor! Please! I'm begging you! I can't take this pain anymore!"

"Miss L/N I've given you pretty much every single test we could give you, and nothing is giving me a diagnosis"

"But I've tried everyone! I've been to see an internist, a gastroenterologist, surgeons and doctors who all have had inconclusive tests, and yet they try and diagnose me with anorexia, acid reflux, anxiety! And none of them are causing my stomach pains"

"Now Miss L/N...is there any chance this could be all in your-"

Thankfully, Terry spoke up before the doctor could finish that sentence.

"Don't you dare! I won't have anyone telling her that she is crazy for this! This pain is real!"

"I'm sorry, I hope I didn't offend you. But as a doctor, I need to think of all the possible outcomes of this issue"

This time, you spoke.

"Well do I HAVE to be starved for these tests? I know it hurts when I eat but I can't keep starving myself like this! My clothes are starting to wear me at this point"

"I'm very sorry, I do apologise and I will keep trying to find out the issue"

When the doctor left the room, you burst into tears, unable to hold it in anymore.

"Oh sweetheart!"

Terry said, sitting on your hospital bed and holding you in his warm embrace.

"We'll make sure that doctor ACTUALLY finds out what's wrong with you, I promise"

"Terry, I don't know how much longer I can keep feeling like this, is it really all in my head? It can't be right? I can't do this anymore"

"Sweetheart, I promise we will find out what's wrong. When he-oh? Wait a second? I've just thought of something"

"What?"

"Have you noticed that ALL the people you've gone to see....are men?"

"I...I never really thought of that. Do you think that's making a difference?"

"It's an idea, I mean, who else knows about the female body than another woman?"

"But everyone I've seen is a medical professional"

"Maybe so, but woman can be just as good, or even better medical professionals than men. Let's see what this Doctor James has to say once he comes back, and if there's still no answer, maybe we could try that route"

"At this point babe, I'll try anything"

Meanwhile, in the hallway of the hospital ward, Doctor James looks through some paperwork when a young and newly qualified nurse walked up to him.

"Hello Doctor James"

"Hi Nancy. Oh! Nancy! If I remember correctly, you enjoy investing special medical cases right?"

"Yes, I have been interested in any new kind of diagnosis, or any that stump others and just can't find out"

"Then you are the perfect person for this job"

"Job? Your giving me one of your patients?"

"She is a special case, she's been tested for everything I can think of, and still no answer. She is suffering with pains in her abdomen, and she has seen every doctor in her home town without any answer, and unfortunately, I don't know what else to try at this moment. I do have a few more patients to see who are in desperate need, so would you like a shot?"

"I'd love to! Where is she?"

Nancy walked into your hospital room, with a beaming smile.

"Good evening Miss L/N, Mr Silver. My name is Nancy, I'm the new nurse on this ward. Doctor James has told me about your unique case, so if your happy with it, I would like to see if I can help"

"You think you can find out what's wrong with me?"

"I do, I really do. For years, I have been fascinated with any illness that stump doctors. I can clearly see there is something wrong, and I'm going to go through every single kind of medical issue there possibly is. I promise"

"The fact that your happy to help Y/N, is wonderful enough Nancy. I was just telling Y/N earlier that I think having a woman's perspective could help her"

"I agree Mr Silver, right! Let's look at your file"

She reads it over and over again, leaving the room to bring in a list of many other tests that Doctor James and others haven't tried yet, she was determined to find the truth. But when she had poped out of the room, you were struggling with your hunger, you were so hungry that you felt like you will actually be sick, you needed to eat something.

"Terry, do you have anything with you? I'm starving"

"I do have some things, but didn't the doctor say you needed to fast for your tests?"

"Yes, he did. But he also said he'd find out what was wrong with me, and I can't go on anymore with an empty stomach. I really need something babe, please"

"The fact that you have tears in your eyes as you ask me that, I can't deny you this. And this doctor hasn't helped, and until this new nurse can, I want to help you feel at least a little better"

He reaches into the bag he packed and handed you a wrapped up sandwich with your favourite fillings.

"I love you so much"

"Me or the sandwich sweetheart?"

"You of course Terry....and maybe the sandwich too"

He just chuckles as he hands it to you, and the flavours hit you like a tidal wave, it had been so long since you had actually eaten anything decent. So what if it would hurt? You couldn't starve. About 5 minutes later, Nancy walks back in and sees you eating.

"Umm Miss L/N? Are you aware we are still doing tests? You needed to fast before-"

"I know, I know that. But I haven't eaten anything in so long, I needed to have something! I'm sorry ok, I just feel so weak, and I'm struggling-hhhsss AAAHHH!!"

That pain suddenly hits you like a bus! Making you fall back against the bed and crying out in pain.

"Sweetheart! Oh god! Please help her!!"

Nancy gets right into action as Terry tries to help you out, holding you in his arms and trying to rub at the sensitive area.

"Where is the pain Miss L/N?"

"Right hear!"

Nancy puts on a glove and gently feels the area where the pain is, just under your ribs and above your stomach.

"Ow!"

"I'm sorry Miss L/N, just try to take a slow deep breath for me while I listen"

She says putting her stethoscope to your abdomen.

"Hmmm? Strange?"

"What can you hear?"

Terry asks.

"It sounds like a 'wooshing' sound, that's strange"

Just that little sentence was enough to help elevate you, even if it was just for a moment.

"Babe I knew it! I knew there was something wrong!"

"Let me just get the ultra sound machine, we can see what might be happening in there"

A few minutes later, Nancy is putting some jelly on your painful area, and gently moving the stick over it.

"Ok Miss L/N, take a slow deep breath in.....and out"

Terry holds and kisses your hand throughout the breathing, he was so sweet.

"There! I see it!"

Nancy shouts out loud, her face is glowing.

"What? What's wrong with me?"

"The median arcuate ligament! MALS! You have MALS!"

"What is MALS doctor? And what's it doing to her?"

"A ligament is tightly wrapped around your celiac artery! It only expands when you eat food or large quantities, the reason noone has found it is because you had to fast before your visits! We can cut it laparoscopically, it's a very short,20 minute procedure. You have MALS Miss L/N, and we can stop it too"

"Oh thank you so much Nancy, I can't tell you how happy I am that you actually listened to me and found out what was wrong with me"

"Your very welcome Miss L/N, just give me a few minutes and I'll schedule your surgery"

She happily walked out of the room and you had a smile so wide that it felt weird to feel it again.

"I wasn't crazy Terry, I knew I wasn't crazy"

"I know sweetheart, I never doubted you for one second. Before you know it, you'll feel so much better"

You still felt the pain after eating that food, but now you knew what it was, you felt a huge weight off your chest. And hopefully, that will feel more literal after your surgery. Nancy was another 20 minutes before she came back, with two surgeons, already dressed in their sterile uniform.

"Alright Miss L/N, if your ready, we can take you down to theatre. We can stop this pain once and for all"

"Oh, you had me at ready"

The two surgeon's were just moving your bed, but before they took you, you gave Terry's hand one last squeeze.

"I love you sweetheart. I'll be right hear after your surgery"

"I love you too Terry, I'll see you soon"

And away you went, down to theatre, and put under anaesthetic to perform the surgery.

You awoke a few hours later, a little dased, but happy, very happy. You knew that the surgery would finaly fix you, and to now have someone actually listen to you and fix your problem, nothing could bring you down. Your eyes adjusted to the light and your surroundings, and in doing that, you spot Terry, right by your bed side, just as he promised.

"Morning sleepy head"

"Calling me sleepy head?"

You ask in a joking way, but with a slight gravelly voice.

"Your the one who looks like they need a hairbrush"

"Yes, well, sleeping on hospital chairs while you were in a nice cosy bed was unfortunately the cause of my scruffiness"

"And yet, you still look as handsome as ever"

"Interesting? You say that whenever my hair is messy"

"And sometimes, I am the reason it's messy, aren't I?"

"Trust me, I'll never complain about that. I need something for my beautiful girlfriend to hold onto..."

"(Giggle) Hold onto? Or grip onto?"

"Depends on how much of a bad girl you were being...."

Even in the hospital, and looking like you had been dragged through a hedge twice, Terry still flirts and stares at you the same way he would if you were wearing your little black dress and heels. You both smiled, and he leant in to kiss your forhead.

"How are you feeling sweetheart?"

"You know, despite just having surgery, I feel good. Really good. Like this huge weight has been lifted from me. Did Nancy say what will happen now?"

"She said she'll be back in a few minutes, she said she'll explain what will happen now that your out of surgery. But she told me it was a complete success, and you'll be just fine"

And as if her ears were burning, in came Nancy, holding your medical chart with a proud smile.

"I see my patient has finaly woken up. How are you feeling Y/N?"

"I'm alright. It does feel a little strange"

"It will for a while, don't worry, it's ok. You will have a small scar from where the surgeon did the operation, but other than that, your body will heal nicely. Now, you will have to stay hear for observation and to make sure your incision has healed. Some time between 3 to 5 days is how long it will take. But once you have the all clear, we can discharge you and let you go home. I do have to say though, you may find things a little difficult at first, but most people can go about their normal activities and routines within 4 to 6 weeks. So please don't do anything like lifting anything heavy, or working either. Not until that time has gone and you come back in for your check up"

"I'm absolutely fine with that. Honestly, again, thank you so much, for everything. Every other doctor I met made me feel like this was all in my head, except for you. You have no idea how much that means to me, just having someone understand that I wasn't just making this all up"

"I was just doing my job miss L/N. I took this job and your case because I knew this wasn't in your head. I find that exploring what the body is capable of, and seeing what it can do and affect people, is a curiosity that I simply can't turn away from. And yours was the first one since I became a fully qualified nurse. And in this industry, you never forget your first. Now, how about I find you something decent to eat on the trolley? I'm sure now that you will have no pain, that food is no longer a fear for you now"

"Oh, your telling me. I could eat a horse right now!"

"Weeelll, I don't have any horse. How about a nice jacket potato with cheese?"

".....You had me at potato!"

All 3 of you share a little laugh before Nancy leaves to find you something to eat, now it was just you and Terry.

"Your finaly going to be ok, I'm so pleased. I can't wait to take you home sweetheart, you didn't deserve any of what happend to you. I wonder why the other doctors couldn't see what Nancy saw?"

"I don't know babe. Weather they didn't bother, or didn't think that MAL's was a possibility, I frankly don't care right now. Nancy found the problem, she fixed it, and now I just wanna eat everything in sight, and go home to snuggle up in bed with you"

"I have missed you sleeping next to me sweetheart. The amount of times I've woken up to you not being there, and seeing you downstairs crying into the sofa. It broke my heart to see you like that, and not be able to help you"

"But you did Terry, you did. You never gave up on me, stayed with me every step of the way. Even when Doctor James thought it was all in my head, like all the doctors before him did, you wouldn't stand for it. You were in my corner the whole time, and I love you so much for that. God, you've had sleepless nights and days missed at work for me, and you still never gave up"

"And I never will. I love you too Y/N, forever and always"

He leaned over to you, and his kiss, no matter how many times he gives his to you, his lips feel just as sweet, sensual and soft as the day you first felt them. You could even feel his smile through it, when Terry was upset, so were you. But now that you were going to get better, and not be in agonising pain, you felt the happiness radiate from Terry.

"So (brushing a strand of hair from your face) What do you want to do once your discharged from hear?"

"Well, I assumed I'd stay at home until I was good enough to go back to work"

"Oh ho ho! Oh sweetheart, your funny. Do you seriously believe your gunna stay cooped up at home, only to work once your better? Absolutely not. When your discharged from hear, I'm taking you away. Somewhere hot...by a beach....lounging in the sun"

"But what about all the work I've missed?"

"Fuck work!"

"Terry!"

"I mean it! You've had weeks of this, and there's no way in hell I'm letting the woman I love just sit around, unable to do anything. Name a place. Name any place you wanna go, and I'll book us a flight tonight. You know money's no obstacle for me, we can have a villa, our own private beach...spend a day at a spa...whatever you want, it's yours. Now, where do you wanna go?"

"Your not going to take no for an answer are you Terry?"

"Nope."

"(Smiling) Ok.....Greece"

"Greece?"

"Yeh, you know Greece is one of my favourite places to go. And I'd like to see the turtle's swimming in the clear sea. You remember last time we went? And we saw those baby turtles coming out of the sand towards the water? The sunset was so beautiful that day"

"It really was, I'll never forget that day. Alright, Greece it is. I'll organise it when Nancy brings you your food, I'll only be outside on the phone. I think you and I both know that after not eating properly for so long, you won't even think about talking when that baked potato is infront of you"

"You can say that again. Thank you so much Terry. I love you"

"I love you too sweetheart..."

[michelle-is-writing]

Emergency, Dr. John Carter

Word Count: 1.7k~

Warnings: a bit of angst, pregnancy

I never thought anything would be harder than nursing school. All of the late nights spent studying combined with little-to-no sleep seemed like the worst torture at the time, but right now, I have to disagree with my prior belief. I’m used to seeing people in their hospital beds, caring for them and giving them their medication; but now I’m the one in the hospital bed with various monitors hooked up to me. Beside me is Dr. Carter, the doctor I work alongside with who also happens to be my ex.

“I told you, you need to slow down at work once you hit twenty-four weeks,” John reminds me, but I continue staring ahead of me at the light pink room. “You should know, first-hand, you cannot be running around the halls like you used to,” Despite his words holding truth to them, I still don’t respond to him, and instead, I close my eyes as memories pass through my mind. To be specific, the memory of why Dr. John Carter is my ex.

“You deserve someone better, someone much better than me.”

To him, he believed what he was saying, but no matter what I tried to tell him, nothing changed his mind. He wanted to break up after nearly a year of being together; even now, I still don’t understand his reasoning. Heartbreak can cause bitterness, and mine still hasn’t gone away despite being six months pregnant.

“Are you listening to me?” John’s question laced with worry brings me out of my thinking and back to him, my head tilting toward him to look at his concerned face. Months ago, I would’ve kissed that worry away; now I can only feel my throat close as I start to form a response. At work, I can handle talking to my ex, but anything outside of work is pointless for me.

With a sigh, John shakes his head before looking down at my stomach. “You know, I’ve been waiting so long for the opportunity to talk to you, but baby, I never wanted it to be like this,” he confesses, his brown eyes flickering to me. “I know it’s been hard, and I’ve-“

“You wanted this,” I tell him, my voice cracking as I fight away tears. “You wanted us to break up, and… we broke up. I’m sorry I-I got pregnant, and I didn’t find out until after we broke up, but-“

This time, it’s John’s turn to cut me off as he quickly sits up to face me. “Please, don’t apologize for this, please,” He urges me, taking my hand in both of his. The action shocks me, my eyes stuck on his worried ones as I feel his touch after what seems like an eternity. “I’ve regretted that night every day since it happened, and I’ve been trying to talk to you, but you… haven’t wanted to,” he looks almost crushed as he says this, his face cast with a pained expression. “I don’t want to trail behind you like a lost puppy in this hospital anymore, I can’t. I want you, and I was beyond stupid that night for what I said and did,” John sighs, “When I found out you were pregnant, I tried my best to avoid anything that could stress you and the baby out, but it’s killed me to stand back and have to watch you do everything by yourself. That’s the last thing I ever wanted, baby, and I'm so sorry.”

Looking at his sad face makes the dam in my eyes break, causing him to quickly reach up and brush my oncoming tears away. I can’t even fight against him doing so, missing him and his touch outweighing the hurt at this exact moment. For a while, I savor his touch, and even after the tears stop falling, his hands still remain on me. That is, until I open my eyes and turn my face to look up at him. “What’s my treatment plan then, Doc?” I ask him, his eyes meeting mine as he moves to brush my hair out of my face.

After a few seconds, John lets out a small chuckle before answering my question. “Your treatment plan is: you need to stay off your feet and do desk work for the next four weeks, but then you cannot return to work after thirty-two weeks,” His words make me frown; I had a feeling that would happen as my obstetrician had already hinted at it to me before.

“Lastly,” John’s voice brings my attention back to him, seeing a now nervous look on his face. “I would… I would love it if you’d move back in with me,” Before I can argue him on the last part, he quickly shakes his head at me and continues on. “I know you and Carol don’t mind room-mating like you used to, but baby, please, come back. That apartment doesn’t feel the same without you, I miss you so damn much. Please come home - with me.”

After what feels like forever, I smile and find myself relaxing back against my pillows as I watch John’s face flash between worry and fear. I remain quiet until a sigh leaves through my nose and I speak up. “Okay,” I whisper, an elated, yet relieved smile breaking onto John’s face at my answer. “I’ll… I’ll come home.”

John can’t hold his happiness back as he moves forward and plants his lips back on mine one more time. “Great, that’s amazing,” he babbles, seemingly overfilled with a mix of joy and relief. Letting out a happy sigh, he rests his forehead against mine before speaking up once more. “Thank you, baby.”

For a few moments, we remain like this until I pull back to look at him and his unusually messy hair. He must’ve been running his fingers through it earlier, a nervous habit of his. A part of me feels bad at the idea of being the reason for this, but at the same time, I didn’t mean to pass out on the hospital floor either.

“I want to keep you here under evaluation until I get off,” John states, his tired brown eyes staring back into mine. “I’d like to give you some more fluids for the dehydration and nausea meds, but in the mean time,” He further explains, rolling back in the stool he’s sitting in to grab the ultrasound stand in the corner of the room before scooting back over to me. “I want to check on a few things.”

Once the machine is plugged in, John quickly sets up everything he needs all the while I simply roll my gown up above my stomach for him. It feels a bit weird exposing myself to him like this after all this time apart, but he quickly reassures me by reaching over and gently squeezing my hand. I smile at this before closing my eyes in preparation for the cold gel which comes soon enough. At the freezing sensation, my eyes shoot open before ultimately looking over at John to see him staring at the ultrasound screen with focused eyes and a look of awe on his face. I’ve helped him perform many ultrasounds on other pregnancies, but never have I seen such a look on his face while doing so.

A few seconds pass before he seemingly realizes something and adjusts some of the knobs on the machine. A soft wave sound fills the room once he does this, the sound being something I’ve heard many times before at my appointments, but for John, this is the first time. This is the first time he’s seeing and hearing the heartbeat of our baby, and I’m sure he’s been wanting to do this for a long time. I felt bad having to watch him do this with every other pregnant woman that walked in, but yet, he couldn’t even do it with me - the woman carrying his baby.

“Hello, little one,” John addresses our baby, smiling up at the ultrasound screen. He moves over the wand before laughing a little to himself. “A healthy baby girl,” he announces, more to himself than anyone. “She’s… fine, healthy. She looks like she’ll come out a perfect baby,” despite this comment, John still spends the next several minutes scanning over every little part of our baby, keeping an eye out for any abnormalities. It’s only when he feels satisfied with himself that he takes the wand away and cleans my stomach off before resting his hand on top of my stomach, his eyes now locked onto mine. “You’re doing a great job, mama.”

I’m not sure if it’s the eye contact or the sincerity in his comment that causes me to begin tearing up again, but John is quick to wipe the few strays tears away with his free hand, his other hand remaining on my stomach as his thumb gently rubs against my skin. “I’ve missed you too…” I whisper to him, too emotional to speak louder as I remember what it was like to learn how to do all of this without him. “I missed you so much.”

John smiles at my words, although it doesn’t reach his eyes that seem to share the same emotion as mine. “I promise, I’ll make it up to you, baby,” He vows, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to my forehead. “To both of you.”

With that, he stands up from his stool before pushing it to the wall and looking back at me. I place my hand where his was just moments ago, already missing the warmth from his hand on my stomach. “When my shift ends, I’ll have one of the nurses start the discharge papers. Then we can head home,” John states, a smile making its way onto both of our faces as he says the word ‘home’. “Is that okay?” He clarifies earning a nod back from me. His smile seems to grow at this, turning into a soft grin. “Good,” John says, “Now it’ll finally feel like home again, too.”

[themultifandomgal]

Kelly Severide- 2 Years Ago

2 years ago YN did something she never thought she'd do. A one night stand. YN had gone through a nasty divorce and went to Vegas. That's where she meet a very handsome man. At the time she had the name Kelly, that was it but it didn't matter because it's not like she was going to ever see him again, right? Wrong. 4 weeks later YN finds out she's pregnant. She knew she needed to find Kelly, but how? Does he even want to be involved? After months of looking YN's baby bump grew and grew and so she needed to start to focus on herself and her baby.

2 years on and YN saw him on TV, she would never forget that handsome face. She heard that he was part of firehouse 51 in Chicago.

So that is where she is right now. Stood outside the firehouse with her 1 year old boy balanced on her hip. Nervous she takes in a deep breath and walks into the fire house

"Can I help you?" a man named Matt Casey asks

"Erm yeah. Hi I'm YN I'm looking for Kelly"

"Come with me" YN follows the man further into the firehouse "Severide. You've got a visitor" that's when YN spots Kelly sat at a table playing cards. He looks up and immediately his eyes shift from YN to the baby on her hip

"Hi" is all YN can say.

To have a bit of privacy Kelly takes YN to his office, closing the door behind him. Kelly leans on his desk as YN stands in front of him

"Is he...."

"Yours? Yeah. I wanted you to have the choice to be part of his life, but I didn't know where to find you"

"How did you find me?"

"You were on TV. I recognised you so I got a flight here" there's a pause while Kelly rubs his face with his hands, obviously feeling a little stressed and confused. Once again he looks at the baby

"What's his name?"

"Jacob" again there's a small pause

"And he's definitely mine?"

"Yes. Your the only person I slept with around that time. I know this is a lot to take in so I'll give you some time to think about it, about whether you want to be in his life. Here.." YN reaches in her pocket for a piece of paper with her number on "call me or text me with your answer. I'm staying in Chicago for the week" Kelly takes her number then shows YN the way out of the fire house.

Walking back into the firehouse Kelly flops down at the lunch table with a sigh

"So who was that?" Capp asks

"A one night stand 2 years ago" Kelly replies looking at the number YN gave him

"And the kid?" Gabby asks

"Mine. She's giving me a choice to be part of his life. I just don't know how we're going to make this work. She doesn't live in Chicago and I don't want to move so how do I be a dad?"

"Look. You've wanted to be a dad for so long now. You and Shay never got the chance to. Maybe this is your opportunity. I say take it" Casey tells his friend

"If your both serious about this you'll figure something out" Sylvie says

"How did she even find you?" Herrmann asks and Kelly proceeds to tell him about the TV show.

Over the day, Kelly has YN and Jacob on his mind. Thinking about what to do, what was the right thing to do? In the end he settles on messaging YN, telling her he wants to be part of Jacobs life, but he isn't sure how it's going to work.

For YN she was always prepared to move to wherever Kelly was. Her life back at home wasn't worth her staying, having no friends or family, it was just her and Jacob. When she receives a message off Kelly her heart almost skips a beat, he wants to be Jacobs dad. Immediately YN calls him asking for them to meet up somewhere, which Kelly suggests Mollys. YN gets herself and Jacob ready and grabs a taxi to said bar where she sees Kelly nursing a beer in his hand. When he notices YN he stands up awkwardly going to give her a hug

"Erm thank you for meeting" YN says sitting down with Jacob on her lap

"So how is this going to work?"

"I'm happy to move here"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I don't have anything back home waiting for me. My friends were my ex's friends and since I got pregnant he has been my life. I hate my job so if it means you can be a father to Jacob, I'll move"

"Before we met that night I was going through some shi... stuff. My best friend died, we were trying to have a baby together. That's why I was in Vegas"

"I'm sorry that happened, but now you have got a chance to be a father"

"I can't believe I'm actually a dad" he says looking at the baby

"You want to hold him?"

"Can I?" YN gives Kelly a smile before passing Jacob over to him "thank you, thank you for giving me this opportunity"

"Guess I best start looking for an apartment"

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Nineteen: Jim Hopper + Uniform

There's something about Jim, and that's before you come to the sheriff's department to bring him lunch one afternoon.

You and Jim had been dating for a few very good months now, but you had yet to see him outside of the fancy restaurant Enzo's, at his cabin, or when you took little trips and stayed in a comfy little bed and breakfast.

You had just been yearning to see him in his whole get-up. Wanted to see if he stretched out the sheriff's shirt like he did the nice flannels he wears to Enzo's or how he stretches out the jeans how he does the sweatpants he wears.

You were in a dazed thought as you pulled into a parking space in front of the sheriff's department. You aren't sure how long you'd been driving while making up dreams of what Hopper might be looking like this afternoon.

When you walked into the department you had excepted it to be crowded and filled with life, but it really wasn't. You looked out the window realizing that you might have come at a bad time. You walked towards the front desk. An older woman stood up, "What can I help you with dear?" The older woman asked.

You look down at my purse and the lunch bag you had locked in your hand. "I was… I'm wondering where I might find Sheriff Hopper?" You asked in the strongest of voices. Her face contorted for a slipt second then she just had a realization. "You must be Y/n, I'm Florence, Hopper's secretary." You release a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding on, so tightly.

"He'll be back in a few had to pick up a troubled kid, you can wait in his office," Florence says to you. You walk in stride behind her trying to keep up with the older women. Florence opens the door for you, and you turn. "How do you know me?" You ask her, She smiles "Hopper talks about you a lot even if he's not that much of a talker." With that Florence is gone, and you're left in Hopper's office.

While you wait you get his food out of the bag, placing it on the right side of the desk, and you start to look around at the walls of his office. Pictures, and photos with special people around the town when Hopper had become sheriff.

“I’m not bookin' you, son, I’m just gonna call your uncle.” You hear Hopper talking outside the office. You panic for a moment and jumble around to get into the seat across from his desk.

The door opens wide and with a pounding force on the other side. Hopper doesn’t notice you at first not until he goes to sit down and he sees food, and then your beautiful face.

“What are you… FLORENCE?” Hopper shouts. She walks fast to the door. “Oh, I forget to tell you that Y/n was here.” She leaves. Leaving Hopper standing there with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“You were gonna call somebody? Do I need to leave?” You ask him. He looks down at you. Anger and confusion melt away. “Oh hell no, stay here and then I can have lunch with ya sweetheart,” Hopper says. He settles down and reaches over for the phone.

It’s a rather short conversation with “I understand” and “It won’t happen again.”s added to almost every single other thread of conversation.

“Now let me get back to you sweetheart,” Hopper says. His voice was deeper and thicker. He gets up to the chair squealing with the weight coming off the old springs. “Stand up sweetheart,” Hopper says shutting his door and his blinds. “For privacy love.” He assures you.

You stand up. You had worn a little sun dress, one that gave off the curves of your body. Exposing most of your skin to the afternoon sun. "Do a little spin f'me." Hopper's voice is husky, sending shivers down to your core. As you spin the dress flutters up exposing more of your skin to Hopper.

"God'damn, you are so beautiful," Hopper mutters mostly to himself. You smile timidly. This is new territory. You want to ask Hopper to do a spin of his own. You want to see how he looks in his whole uniform. The light brown doesn't clash with his skin, rather makes his blue eyes sparkle.

He reaches out his hand for you to take. "Come sit on my lap?" He offers, and you take his hand. He walks softly to his chair getting comfortable before dragging you into his lap. Hopper's one thigh becomes your seat.

You talk and Hopper eats.

Hopper can feel your heat seeping through your cotton panties into his work slacks. It's driving him insane as you innocently talk about the garden behind your house, and how the kids that you do story time with at the library today were so good at listening today.

Hopper bounces his leg, bouncing you ever so slightly up and back down. You don't say anything about it at first. You nibble at your own food, not really hungry for food right now. Maybe Hopper reads your mind, or maybe something else gives it away.

Continuously Hopper bounces his leg, giving a few sharp bounces, and a few loose and slow ones. Trying to gather some sort of rhythm, that's good for both you and his leg.

Hopper finishes up the food you delivered to him, but he doesn't want you to go just yet. You go to get up after Hopper had thrown his trash into the can across the room. A large hand pulls you back down.

"Don't go just yet, baby," Hopper whispers. You nod and stay put. The bouncing of his leg hasn't stopped only getting better and better. The vibration and the force on your clit hitting the muscular thigh make your eyes go crossed. "I can feel your heat through all these layers," Hopper whispers into your ear, as he pulls your back into his chest. You try to look at him as your head rests on his shoulder.

"Jim…" a strangled moan falls from your lips. You don't ever call him by his first name unless you have far long gone in your mind. Lost to the power of your euphoria. "Are you enjoyin' yourself?" Hopper asks in a sultry tone. You moan, and press your lips into his bread-covered jawline.

Your imagination could never meet the reality of what and how Hopper feels in his uniform. You can feel the hard metal of his buckle digging into your back, but you welcome the pain of it. "Answer me, sweetheart." Hopper demands of you. "Yes… fu… yeah JIm I…" You're having a hard time expressing yourself as he grinds his kneecap into your clit. Wet panties sticking to the material of the slacks. "I bet you are sweetheart. I can feel how wet you are. You gonna make yourself cum on my thigh baby?" He whispers to you.

Your mind was already frizzy and frazzled, but now it's white-hot blank. You see nothing but the euphoric feeling that pumps through your body. You shift needing more pressure, or attention. Hopper's hands are held around your waist and pressed flush into your breast.

Your hands land on the crumb-covered part of the desk. Knuckles going white, and eyes closing tightly as you get just the right amount of pleasure from the hard muscle between your thighs. "Oh, sweetheart…" Hopper mumbles, "I can feel you, gonna cum baby? I know you are, god you're so beautiful." Hopper words are hot and push you over the edge.

Cumming through your white cotton panties and all over his uniform slacks. Your body leans, and lumps over the desks. Chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. Hopper's large hand sprawls against your back as he rubs deep, and meaningful circles into your back to calm you.

"Fuck Hopper…" You mumble out, "Did you come just for lunch, or where you think' about somethin' else." You chuckle a little, "What… I got a little hot from your sheriff's uniform." You say back, not yet lifting yourself from the desk. "Good to know sweetheart."

Completed: 07/29/23

Posted on: 10/19/23

Kinktober '23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

Stranger Things Master List // The Elders Master List // Kinktober '23

[blacktofade]

Gemtho Fortnight Day 6

Prompt: Gemtho prompt: RPF, Etho actually gives Gem his address (or a PO box maybe) so she can send him a Christmas gift, they start sending goofy penpal letters and trinkets back and forth, but it soon becomes extremely horny letters and perhaps physical nudes.

cw: rpf

“I went to the post office yesterday,” Etho says instead of hello when Gem answers the Discord call.

His voice is rough and strangely echoed, like he’s halfway to taking a sip of the first coffee of his day.

It’s early for him. Gem doesn’t usually see any sign of him until later in the afternoon, and her stomach jolts with anticipation.

“Get anything good?” she asks, feigning innocence, and Etho grunts.

“You’re the only one with my address.”

It’s not Etho’s address, it’s a PO box in Edmonton he’s kept open for months now.

It had started as a joke with Gem threatening to find him to send him a mic stand, but she’d only brought it up once, and yet a week later, Etho had dropped the address into her DMs. Nothing else, just the address, and Gem had taken it and ran.

She’d sent the mic stand, not that she expected him to use it, but she’d also included a Funko Pop of Kakashi, just because she wasn’t about to miss the opportunity.

Eventually, he’d DMed her a photo of the same desk setup that she’d seen before, but the tissue box was gone, replaced with the stand, and near his monitor was the ridiculous Funko figure.

It had made her feel strangely powerful.

She’d started sending him things regularly, not expecting him to continue paying for the space month after month, but nothing had ever been returned to her. It all made it to him.

She’d sent him Easter candy she’d found in the back of a pharmacy, almost a year out of date. She’d sent him an old Sega game with no label from a flea market. She’d sent him a little piece of her soul in the form of a postcard from Boston, wish you were here scribbled on the back.

Later in the year when she’d got home from Twitch Con, she’d sent him a signed photo of Bdubs. She’d got it from John as a joke after too many drinks in the California sun, when they’d both laughed to the point of tears at the thought of Etho opening it.

And a week later Etho had sent her a photo of it framed and sitting on the shelf behind his desk.

It was around that time she’d realized he was doing it for her — the whole PO box setup, his strangely candid responses. He was letting her sneak her way into his life.

Which leads to now and the reason why her palms are sweating.

“Have you opened it yet?” she asks and she hears a creak, like he’s leaning back in his chair.

“I opened it last night.”

Gem swallows, tugging anxiously at the hem of her sweater. “Am I wildly off-base?”

“Depends what reaction you were expecting from me.”

Gem takes a breath. “What reaction did I get?”

“I'm only human,” Etho tells her and Gem shuts her eyes and thinks she understands.

The envelope she'd mailed him had contained Polaroids. The kind of Polaroids she's never sent anyone else, the kind she's never wanted to take before.

She can imagine him at his desk, tipping out the contents and sitting in stunned silence. She can imagine him holding one of the photos — maybe the one of her topless, one hand resting on her ribs, face turned away from the camera but hair unmistakable — touching himself and knowing they'd be having this conversation later.

“That's the reaction I was hoping for,” Gem admits quietly.

“I'm going to keep the PO box open a little while longer,” Etho tells her, and it feels like an aside until he adds, “if you would like to send more.”

He says it like he's doing her a favor, but Gem feels breathless.

“Yeah,” she says, too quick to be anything but eager. “I can do that.”

“I'm also going to need your address.”

Gem's mouth is suddenly dry.

She can do that, too.

[if-mirrormine]

i'll always save you

summary: grayson is called out on a case involving the mc.

pairing: grayson x mc

word count: 8029

based on the request: i was wondering what would happen if grayson got a call while on duty that mc crashed into a river somehow, and when they get there, mcs body isn't in the car, but there's evidence their body was there, like blood or broken glass, but mc happened to get out of the car and swam to the bank/shore of the river? like mcs just laying on the shore, soaked, out of breath, and kinda injured👀

**unedited//me? writing a drabble at 1 a.m.? it's more likely than you think.**

request a drabble here!

grayson sits idly at his desk, his leg bouncing up and down as he flicks in his pen between his index and middle fingers. he's bored. it's a slow night, which he should be grateful for, but the lack of crime means only one thing: paperwork. mountains of it. taking up the entirety of his desk and blocking his view of the other half of the precinct. perhaps if he didn't put off the task until last minute he wouldn't be here now but even with nothing else to, he can't bring himself to do it.

he's just about to convince himself to get to work when kelsey comes into view. he didn't even hear her get up from her desk across from his and walk over. but now that she's in front of him, he's happy to have something else to do.

"i'd ask how its going over here but given that you've been staring into space for the last half hour, i'd say that answers my question." she sits on the edge of his desk, her arms crossed over her chest as she glances down at the files behind her.

"can you blame me?" he sighs before tossing his pen on the desk, leaning back on his chair as he drags his hands through his hair. "i'm this close to blowing my brains out."

quirking up an eyebrow at him, she smiles. "do i need to take your gun and put it on a high shelf somewhere?"

he grins. "aren't i taller than you?"

"semantics," she says, waving him off. "you want something to do?"

resisting the urge to bolt out of his chair and out the precinct, he sits up straighter, entirely more alert at the prospect of getting to put off doing paperwork slightly longer. "why didn't you lead with that?" he questions and she rolls her eyes playfully. "what is it?"

"got a call while you were daydreaming," she says. "some idiot drove their car off a bridge. my money's on drunk driver."

at that, he stands up, whipping his jacket off the back of his chair and pulling it on. "it usually is." looking at his partner, he gestures to the exit. "what are we waiting for? let's go."

sliding off the desk, she rolls her eyes again and follows him out.

the bridge has been cordoned off, the night illuminated by red and blue flashing lights. there's an officer waiting for them when they arrive, explaining what happened without so much as a hello. there had indeed been a drunk driving, swerving in and out of lanes before throwing themselves out of their vehicle and into traffic. they currently sit in the back of an ambulance, mostly unharmed, and their car still sitting on the bridge.

"i though the call was about someone driving off the bridge," kelsey says, confusion twisting her features.

"someone did drive off the bridge, ma'am," the officer says and she narrows her eyes at him. "probably to avoid killing the guy. though they're probably worse off now than if they had run him over."

"probably?" grayson questions. "you mean no ones gone down to check?"

the officer pales slightly, shrinking back into himself as he avoids looking at him in the eye. "n-no, sir. it's really difficult to get down there, we were waiting for more experienced personnel."

"unbelievable." taking a deep breath, grayson fixes the officer with a look that would be sure to kill. "we'll go check. make yourself useful and get the witness statements."

"yes, sir!" the officer runs off quickly, nearly tripping over his feet in an attempt to get away from them.

"do i really look like ma'am?" kelsey asks as they begin walking over.

"what would you have preferred he called you?"

"oh, i don't know... detective montgomery maybe?"

"he probably doesn't know any better," grayson grumbles. "he barely looks old enough to be a highschool student, let alone fresh out of the academy." kelsey snorts as they come to a stop at the side of the bridge. the ravine falls off into darkness at a near ninety degree angle and when he shines his flashlight down, rocks and mud pave the way down to the water. looking at kelsey, he finds she's already looking at him.

straightening her back, she salutes him. "godspeed, soldier."

he sighs at the thought of having to go down there by himself but he doesn't argue the matter. "at least there are paramedics on standby," he says. "i imagine i'll be needing one by the time i get to the bottom."

kelsey grins at him. "on the bright side, you won't have to do any more paperwork."

"because i'll be dead? yeah, i'd sure hope so."

"i'll tell your mother you loved her."

he rolls his eyes in amusement as he begins his descent. his shoes slide slightly in the mud and he has to slow his pace to not fall but after what feels like forever, he makes it to the bottom. the river is oddly calm, the waves lapping softly at his feet and he shines his flashlight over the water in search of the car. in the middle of the river, somewhat under the bridge, black metal sparkles under the light. the tail end of the car stick out of water, the window of the backseat just barely visible and he swings the beam of flashlight around to look for the licence plate.

"how's it looking, gray?" kelsey calls down to him and he glances up at her briefly to see her standing with her own flashlight.

"well it's not great," he calls back. "im looking for the plates."

as soon as the words leave his mouth, his eyes latch onto the sequence of numbers and letters and he quickly realises its one that he's got memorised. his blood runs cold, his heart damn near stops beating and he's filled with all the same dread and panic he felt ten years ago.

mc. it always come back to the mc.

he's in the water before he even knows it. kelsey is calling him again, demanding to know what the hell he's doing and why but he can't think of anything else but his best friend. he has to get to them, he has to save them. nothing else matters.

his own name is the last thing he hears as he dives below the surface, the ice cold water shocking his system that he almost exhales all his oxygen. weighed down by his clothes, he forces his limbs to work even harder and before long, he sees the vague outline of the car in the murky water.

confusion takes over when he presses his face to the passenger side window and sees that the car is empty, the drivers door hanging open. empty. they mustve been able to escape before the car went under. relief begins to take over as he swims to the surface. oh, his brilliant mc.

gasping for the breath when he breaks the surface, he thrashes around, attempting to search for them in the darkness. he dropped his flashlight somewhere between seeing the licence plate and diving in the water, and he regrets not holding onto it a little tighter. he screams their name, hoping with everything fibre of his being that they're nearby and can hear him.

"grayson!" kelsey calls to him and he looks back to see her standing where he did just moments before, having made her way down the ravine when he dived in.

"it's mc!" he calls back. "they made it out; look for them along the shoreline!"

he doesn't wait for her response, instead swimming as fast as he can to the other side of the river. pulling himself out and wiping the water from his eyes, he takes off running again. his panic comes flooding back in full force, the relief he felt dwindling fast the further he goes. he screams their name, over and over again, only to be met by silence each time. not again, he thinks. please not again.

he skids to a stop when he sees a body lying on the shore and he stops breathing for a moment before he's moving again. dropping to his knees beside them, the pale light of the moon illuminating their face and he cries in relief upon seeing its mc. they're bruised and cut up, blood drying on their face but their chest rises and falls ever so slightly and that's enough for him.

"i'm here, mc," he says, pulling them into his arms and eliciting a groan from them. "you're okay." he rises to his feet, holding them close to his chest as he makes his way back to the bridge. he hates the thought of almost losing them a second time but he tries to focus on the positive, of them alive in his arms. pressing a kiss to their hair, he makes a vow to himself to do whatever it takes to keep them safe, no matter the cost.

[piratefalls]

i'm back! between work and trying to write my first fic for this fandom i've been falling really behind on reading, so for now these are going to be a more bi-weekly occurrence than weekly. in any event, there's truly a little bit here for everyone, so enjoy this week's mix of a+ works!

masterlist

you and me, babe, how about it? by @myheartalivewrites

Alex sits in the back of their Secret Service approved, PPO driven Land Rover, excitement thrumming through his body. The leather squeaks as he fidgets incessantly; his skin burns where Kieran’s shoulder is pressed into his, despite the layers of fabric between them. On the other side of Kieran, he can see Henry’s fingers twitch on top of his own knee, playing an imaginary piano, flicking out and squeezing in before releasing and starting again. Like he’s so fucking desperate to reach out and touch the leg next to his he’s having to muster up all of his self-control, draw on all the years of keeping himself restrained, just to not start things too soon. Alex can’t believe they’re actually, finally, doing this.

you know i can't be found with you by stutteringpeach

“He’s cute,” Alex declares on the first day of class. Liam doesn’t even bother to look up from his laptop. “Uh huh.” “The professor.” Liam makes a non-committal noise. “I’m gonna fuck him.”

Longer Than Most by happinessofthepursuit

“Oh,” Alex says. “Sick.” Henry can’t help but grin. He can’t believe he’s so bloody gone on a man who says sick and dude, who he’s slept with all of one time and proceeded to knock him up. Henry’s a cliche, honestly. “It is, indeed, sick, as you say.” Alex rolls his eyes, but his cheeks darken a shade, giving him away a bit. “Listen, the closest I get to poetry is your fucking face. Excuse me if my vocabulary doesn’t quite compare to yours.” Or, Alex and Henry have a one night stand. That is, until a baby’s involved.

Baby (Let Me Put On a Show) by SatinBirds

It’s been five months, and still Alex is never completely prepared for Henry’s performances. Private or otherwise. Or, Henry is a night dancer, and he’s everything Alex wants.

Sun Salutations (Waif for Me) by @duchessdepolignaca03

He repeats the movement five or six times, his body heating up with each repetition, loosening the hangovers’ grip on him through very effective breathwork. Wanting to open up his hips a little bit more, he settles into a wide-legged forward fold. He holds the pose, enjoying the delicious stretch on his lower back and virtually all the muscles of his lower body. Then he just about jumps out of his skin when he hears, “Mmm, breakfast is served.” Or: Alex parties hard on a Thursday night and has some deliciously anonymous sex with the glittery blond he calls Waif. When he wakes to do his naked sun salutations, he learns that Waif is a very, very hungry, 'temporarily unhoused' boy whom Alex quickly invites to live rent-free in his head.

secret, scars, and trust by viciouslyqueer

He trails off and Henry takes the opportunity to cup his cheek, gently swiping his thumb over the smooth skin. “Hey. We don’t have to do anything. We can stop right now if you want to, or cuddle for a while. I can put on a movie if you’d like. I don’t mind either way.” Alex’s smile grows and he leans into the touch, pecking Henry’s lips again. “Thanks, baby,” he murmurs, and Henry has to fight the urge to react at the pet name. “But it’s not that. I want to keep going, if you want it, too. I just have to tell you something before, okay?”

make it five by anincompletelist

“Fifty bucks says I can get that guy’s number.” Popping the bubble of cinnamon-flavored gum Alex had just blown, he glances up from his phone to look at where Nora’s pointing. Just over the soles of his shoes, crossed at the ankles and propped on the flaking black wood of the shop’s front desk, there’s a man with broad shoulders lingering by the far wall. Alex hadn’t even heard the guy come in. “Nora. He’s literally looking at one of the biggest dildos I’ve ever seen,” he deadpans quietly. + alex works at a sex toy shop. it's usually a pretty easy job — if he could just stop daydreaming about the blonde guy that keeps coming in to buy literally all of alex's favorite sex toys.

talk by smc_27

Henry records himself for an audio erotica app. Alex finds it. And listens.

Got a ticket for two by clottedcreamfudge

Henry likes his apartment - he has done since the day he moved in a year ago. The light in the sitting room is gorgeous at all times of day thanks to the ceiling to floor windows which lead out onto a south-facing balcony, only just large enough for the plethora of plantlife his flatmates care for. The kitchen is always stocked with his favourite tea, everyone keeps to their allotted cupboard and fridge space, and the bathrooms are kept meticulously clean. There's a rota for chores stuck to the fridge with magnets from Rhode Island and Minnesota, London and Milan, with everything typed up neatly so that nobody has to squint to read someone else's awful handwriting. His flatmates themselves? Well, they're a little… strange.

Far Away From the One That I Love by allmylovesatonce

It's been an agonizing two months of Henry being in London and Alex being in New York. When an opportunity to finally be reunited with Henry comes his way, Alex jumps on it. But things don't go quite how they expected after so much time away.

If We're Caught in a Wage (I Will Carry You Over) by @sparklepocalypse

There it is, up ahead – the small island just offshore, with Alex’s favorite broad, flat stone outcropping, perfect for sunning himself in seclusion. He splashes into the shallows and dives in when the water’s up to his knees, and it’s a matter of maybe a minute’s swim to reach the island. Alex finds his footing among the sand and pebbles, pulls himself upright, and shakes the water out of his hair, then pushes it back from his face. He can practically hear the outcropping calling to him -- you know, if inanimate rock could speak. Alex stretches, his mid-back satisfyingly popping, and then skirts his way between some larger rocks until his sunning rock is in view. Except – there’s someone already on the outcropping, their short blond hair shimmering in the sunshine, the upper slant of their shoulders visible from where Alex is standing. (Movie or Bookverse AU; Alex rents a remote beach house and Henry is a cecaelia.)

Protect Your Solitude by graceofgrayskull

At the 2016 Rio Olympics, Alex stumbles onto Prince Henry crying in a storage closet and is forced to rewrite his perception of their first meeting.

Out For A Bite by everwitch

Henry's eyes fly up, zeroing in on the reflection in the mirror. There, behind him. The man from the bar. He looks different in the fluorescent bathroom lights. Sharper. There’s a look in his eyes that has Henry shivering all over again. It's greedy. Hungry. He’s staring right at Henry. Henry's throat feels dry. His heart beats madly. He's heard whispers of this place, and more importantly of its patrons. He thinks he knows what this man is.

each time we touch / i wanna take too much by @firenati0n

my fingers slipped and now there are fingers in mouths. wrote this in one sitting at 5am today. please forgive any egregious errors, i wrote it without my glasses on and on no sleep lol. hope you like it. <3 title from New Girl by FINNEAS

you took the time to memorize me (my fears, my hopes, my dreams) by coffeecatsme

The tour guide has a small bisexual flag pinned to his chest, right next to where his name is scrawled in big, bold letters. Alex, it reads; simple, to the point. The name tag rests on a red and black flannel, and underneath is a white t-shirt with Georgetown’s name stretched on the front, reminding Henry ever so starkly that he’s thousands of miles away from what he calls home. The flannel stretches over broad shoulders leading up to a strong jaw, all in contrast with the bright, dimpled grin stretched over a beautiful face. Henry thinks there isn't a place on the world far enough away from his grandmother to escape her clutches - even after transferring to Georgetown. Then, his tour guide extends a helping hand and shows him otherwise. Or, 5 steps Alex and Henry take to memorize each other and 1 time they realize they already do.

Praise & Supplication by NoCoastPosts

Alex is always moving, always going, always seeking. He is defiance and brashness tinged with anxiety, but not in these moments. Henry pins him down with a gaze as heavy as his touch, and all of Alex’s motions cease. He is calm, he is obedient, he is pliable. He knows he’ll be broken apart piece by piece, sending waves of heat deep into his core. or When Alex gets stuck in his head, Henry helps him let go.

Another Door Opens by 14carrotgold

Henry takes a long drink. “If it makes you feel any better, my dad's dead. He and my mum had the type of love straight from the storybooks and it got cut tragically short, so what is the point in finding something real if it's just going to hurt you?” Alex bites back a smile and shakes his head. “How in the fuck was that supposed to make me feel better?” He waves his hand awkwardly. “Oh, I just thought we were both sharing the trauma that impacted our romantic relationships.” - Henry and Alex first meet when Henry reveals their partners are cheating on them with each other.

Fifteen Hours Till Forever by inexplicablymine

“I would say that in this life, we aren’t granted many chances at true happiness, at the unadulterated freedom and joy that comes to the lucky ones. I would say that I know right now only fifteen feet apart, fifteen hours till forever, and somehow the universe has decided I ought to be one of the luckiest there are.” “But tomorrow,” he continues, “when we are saying our vows, when we are promising ourselves to one another forever, I want you to look me in the eyes and know that you are it for me.”  OR The year is 2025, and the world doesn't know they are getting married. 

home by rizcriz

For a moment he fears Henry’s been outed against his will somehow, but he scrolls down to find a video clip. Unable to trust himself to watch the video, he scrolls a little further to read the transcript. He learns that Henry had come out during a ribbon cutting, of all things. He’d stood in front of a crowd of a couple hundred people gathered for the opening of a new youth shelter, and he’d told his truth. Alex is tempted to watch the video, to examine his body language to see if it was planned or not, but he reads further and one sentence stands out to tell him it wasn’t. There is no comment yet from Buckingham Palace. -- or, six months after Henry rejected Alex at Kensington Palace.

The Way of Things by writerkenna

Henry and Alex have been very much enjoying the life they’ve managed to carve out for themselves. They’ve had to compromise and work and change to maintain it, but it’s worth it. Henry finds himself pregnant, though, and everything they’ve built starts to turn on its head. as always, let me know if you want to be tagged either because you're a writer or a reader (or both!) and i'll see you next time!

My life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person by lizzie_bennetdarcy

Alex plans to be a lot of firsts in the world. But this absolutely isn't the kind of first he was thinking. He stares wide-eyed into the mirror at the letters on his shoulder while June whines to be let in. Alex finally unlocks the door and June bursts through. “Show me!” Wordlessly, Alex turns to show her his back. "What the actual fuck?" June exclaims, then claps a hand over her mouth. "Sorry, that was rude, but — is it more than one person?" Or: Five times Alex doesn't find his soulmate, and one time he does

tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift omg i feel like i'm missing someone