#they were not a politically neutral body

[elizabethwydevilles]

Frankly weird that you can analyse pretty much everything else in Star Wars in regards to its real life implications, but if you look at the Jedi Order as an institution that helps to legitimise a corrupt Republic through acting as it's negotiators and later on as its command structure in a war… and it's stamping feet and 'nuh uh' and 'you think Jedi children deserved to die'.

[charliethemanticore]

Hi btw being trans does not automatically grant you supernatural understanding of all esoteric trans knowledge. You actually need to put effort into learning or put effort into keeping quiet about things that don't pertain to your specific experience

[vauxxy]

SETTLE DOWN!

luke castellan x reader

★ “for crying out loud, settle down!”

ABOUT - you hate his guts. he hates yours. but you’d by lying if you said you didn’t want to make out with him until his lips start bleeding. and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that idea.

WARNINGS - sexual references, sexual comments, enemies to lovers, steamy makeout scenes, no explicit smut. both luke and reader are very horny and very mean sooo two red flags lol

A/N - please don’t make fun of my english/australian vocabulary. i know americans don’t use the word ‘fit’ but LET ME LIVE IN PEACE!!!let me know if you’d fancy a part 2 <3

WC - 3.7k words

it’s hard to recall when exactly your distaste towards luke castellan first developed.

maybe it started off as rude comments and shoved shoulders, or simply the act of tripping over each other's shoes, paired with a few nasty glances. either way, you hated his guts.

this sentiment was obviously returned by luke, who was eager to constantly egg you on and rile you up. maybe he found it amusing- watching the ever so calm and collected eldest daughter of the hypnos cabin going absolutely ballistic whenever luke did something slightly annoying. he loved the way her mature and gentle persona shattered as soon as he provoked her.

it was rather strange how quickly they let their masks slip, letting themselves shout foul obscenities at each other as soon as a conflict arose between the two of them. it was like being near each other was the primary catalyst for their arguments and squabbles- not the actual contents of the disagreement itself, but the players involved.

curiously, luke’s terrible attitude was never extended to anyone other than you. around everyone else at camp half-blood, luke was the perfect gentleman. warm and welcoming to anyone who happened to walk past him, a great swordsman, well-kept, respectful and polite, the list goes on. he was perfect. but as soon as his eyes met yours, his entire body shifted. he became something colder, something ravenous- something hungry. he was out for blood, he just didn’t understand why.

you were slumped over a picnic table near the cabins, tiredly observing all handful of half-blood kids from various cabins making friendship bracelets.

it was dark out, the moon and the embers of the nearby fire acting as the sole providers of light for the camp that night.

truthfully, you didn’t want to be there. you would rather be in bed, coddled up between your sheets for hours before heading down to the infirmary to help out the younger kids with their sleeping troubles. maybe afterwards you could go down to the theatre and join in on a few songs with the apollo kids, or even practice sparring with clarisse.

whatever it was, you didn’t want to be there. not with luke castellan’s eyes studying your every move. you didn’t need to lift your head to know he was looking at you- you could feel it. the arrogance was radiating off him and you could smell his pride from across the picnic table. your nose easily picked up on notes of wet grass, a neutral deodorant, pure spite, and vanilla candles.

after what seemed like an eternity, you eventually shot your head up to meet luke’s unwavering gaze.

“someone’s sleepy.” he smirked, his voice calm and cold. he looked satisfied; content with watching you slowly rise in anger as he began to coddle you and patronise your every move.

you ran a hand through your hair, fixing the messy state it was in after laying down for so long. “i’m not sleepy, just bored.” you retorted, letting your hands hold up your head as you stared deeply into his eyes, not breaking eye contact.

luke played along, refusing to blink as he picked up on the competitive gesture. “bored, huh?” he mused, shooting you a cocky grin as he leaned forward over the table. “you’re never satisfied, are you, princess?”

you rolled your eyes, letting your pupils meet the back of your head as you stifled a groan. you slowly covered one side of your face in your hand, hiding your pink cheeks as a result of his use of the nickname ‘princess’.

“don’t you have a loser convention to get to?” you asked, referring to the cabin councillors meeting that he was supposed to be at.

luke shrugged, looking to his side as he watched a young demeter boy making a bracelet. “got cancelled. now i get to look at your pretty little face for an hour straight.”

“i’m going to bed.” you grumbled, standing up from the picnic table, an unfinished friendship bracelet left discarded. you walked away, hearing little to no protests from the rest of the table.

luke’s eyes met the bracelet you left behind, studying it for a moment. the colours were cute and the beads were placed strategically along the string, creating an interesting and visually pleasing combination of textures and shapes. luke’s hand wandered over to the bracelet, quickly snatching it before securely tying it and stuffing it in his pocket.

luke wasn’t sure why he stole the bracelet. maybe he thought he could taunt you with it, or maybe he could just wear it for shits and gigs. it was a pretty bracelet- why wouldn’t he want to wear it?

a week passed by, and it was time for capture the flag.

luke had consistently come out of the games a champion, securing his place as the best swordsman at camp half-blood whenever possible.

you were tired of it. you promised yourself that when the opportunity arose, you would beat him to it. you would earn the praise he revived so effortlessly.

your determination to win capture the flag was also partially encouraged by the events of the previous tuesday.

you, luke, and a few other older demi-gods were forced to monitor the younger campers on a trip to the nearby lake. simple, right? wrong.

things went south fast when luke ‘accidentally’ nudged your shoulder a bit too hard, forcing you to fall into the lake. luckily, you were a strong enough swimmer and were able to get back on land safely.

“sorry about that, y/n. maybe next time you should keep out of the way?” he leaned in close, whispering in your ear.

luke smirked lightly as his dry hand rubbed the soaking wet and now transparent fabric covering your shoulder. his lips softly grazed your neck as you released yourself from his grip, shooting him a dirty look.

“you should watch your step, castellan. things like this happen to anyone.”

luke scoffed, looking you up and down as he took in the sight of your shivering body. “do they now?” he asked, his head turning to follow your figure as you walked past him.

as you walked away, luke couldn’t help but study your body as it became revealed by the fabric of the camp t-shirt sticking to your skin. how could he not admire the way he could see the vague outline of a lacy black bra underneath your top? or the way your wet hair was framing your angry little face? how you stared him down as your friend offered you a towel.

if you weren’t so acutely aware of how your figure was on full display, you would’ve pushed him in as well- but you were way too infuriated to even get close to him at this point… as well as the fact you didn’t think you could handle the idea of him taking off your shirt in front of you, all wet as his hair let water droplets roll down his torso.

maybe you could handle hitting him with a baseball bat a few times, but the idea of his face all beaten and bloodied was strangely appetising as well.

in all fairness, luke’s actions were not unprovoked. it’s not like you didn’t also tease him and fuck around with his temper.

for example, the very day before the incident at the lake, you had used your abilities as a daughter of hypnos to put him to sleep… for 19 hours, causing him to miss out on camp activities and lose hours of valuable training time.

you felt pure bliss watching him as he stepped out of the hermes cabin, confused and disoriented as hoards of campers instantly surrounded him.

“are you okay luke?”

“i heard you were in a coma!”

“we thought you were a goner,”

luke blocked out the concerned comments of his peers as soon as he caught you gazing over at him from the deck of the hypnos cabin.

with that ‘i got you good’ smirk plastered across your face, luke knew he had to get you back. getting to see your semi-exposed and cold, shuddering body in the process of doing so was only a bonus.

he felt a high from getting to see what he caused. what he did to you. it made him hungry for more. how else could he anger you? get you to show him more? how could you return the favour? would you? he didn’t know if you realised the effect you had on him- but he was going to do anything in his power for you to feel it too.

but those incidents were nothing compared to what was about to go down.

2 hours into capture the flag, and you had managed to fool and scare off enough members of the blue team, causing many individual members to go off track. those hours practising sword fighting with clarisse were definitely worth it.

you leaned against a nearby tree, closing your eyes for a moment as you fiddled with your sword. lost in thought, you heard something coming. more specifically, someone. you didn’t even have to open your eyes to know who it was.

“oh, hey castellan. isn’t it past your bedtime?” you asked, rubbing your eyes open as you lazily swung your sword back and forth.

luke scoffed, taking a step towards you. “i think i like you better when you’re drenched in lake water.” he smirked, looking into your eyes without breaking contact. he couldn’t look away. it wasn’t even because he wanted to intimidate you; he simply couldn’t stand to have you exit his field of vision. not right now, at least.

you look a step backwards, getting into position as you use your shield to protect yourself. “are you gonna try to maim me or what?”

luke took another step forward, mirroring your stance as he took the defensive. “and hurt your pretty little body? i’d rather die.”

you turned red, your mouth agape as you processed what he had said. “excuse me?” you spat, your voice breathy as your eyes widened.

“you heard me,” he smiled innocently, deceiving you before beginning to attack. you blocked every move, pacing around the area as you swung your sword at him. “you’re such a fucking prick!” you grumbled, trying to catch your breath as you struggled to mark him with your blade.

“language, princess.” he scolded, still smiling at you as he continued his attempts at disarming you.

that was the moment when you realised something.

you can play dirty.

not with your sleep-themed party tricks or your weak little fists, but with the power of unpredictability. the element of surprise.

you let him get closer to you, pretending to settle down before him. luke chuckled at the sight of your loosened grip on your shield and increasingly tired eyes, noticing the way your footsteps shuffled backwards and forwards.

“someone’s getting tired-“ his cocky sentiment was quickly cut off by the feeling of your hands tightly gripping his arm- his shock only furthering as your teeth dug into the soft skin on his wrist.

he instantly dropped his shield, his sword still held firmly in his other hand. you quickly released him from your bite, taking a step forwards as you put your weight on his shield. “ow- what the fuck?!” he stammered, looking up at you with red cheeks and a bleeding hand.

you were stumped. you hadn’t thought further than getting rid of his shield. “i didn’t mean to break skin to be honest. sorry.” you shrugged, picking up his shield and throwing it far away while he was still frozen in shock.

luke continued looking at you, silent as he became overwhelmed by the feeling of a ruthless war finally coming to an end within his mind.

obviously, he found you attractive. you were a pretty girl. sure, a lot of girls at camp half-blood were pretty. but for some odd reason, he thought you were much prettier. the type of pretty girl that deserved to be called cute nicknames every day and covered in gentle kisses every night. he wanted to kiss you softly, hold you tightly, say you looked gorgeous, make you tacky beaded bracelets that were the same colour as your eyes. he wanted to make you feel loved.

but he also thought you were a brat. always teasing him and only him. driving him insane with targeted comments and insults. purposefully making him look stupid in front of the younger campers and even patronising him for it. luke wanted to put you in your place. he wanted nothing more than to push you onto his bed in the dead of night, marking you as his. he yearned to hear your strained voice whimpering his name as he towered over you. he wanted to exchange knowing glances and pretend nothing had changed, despite the images of your hands gripping his bedsheets as you let out stifled moans etched into his mind.

luke often wondered how the two could overlap. how the fuck could these two perceptions of this one girl coexist? but luke didn’t wonder how it was possible to think about anymore, he didn’t care about that. now, he wondered if it was possible to act on both of his separate desires for her. he wondered if she even wanted him as much as he wanted her- if she wanted him at all.

“hey, i said i was sorry for making you bleed!” you called out, snapping him out of it.

“stop sulking! what, do you want me to kiss it better or something?”

luke blinked for the first time in what felt like centuries, shrugging as he let a sly smile creepy onto his face. “oh, im not sulking.” he insisted as he stepped closer towards the shorter girl.

he extended his wrist out towards you, a deep and bleeding bite mark engraved into the skin. “you gonna kiss it better, or…?”

you turned red, shaking your head. “i was just joking, castellan.” you murmured coldly, trying to avoid his gaze.

he kept his hand extended towards you, temping you to just take it and kiss it to get him to leave. “fucking loser…” you grumbled, holding his hand in yours as you gave his wrist a soft kiss.

“there, better?” you scoffed before luke’s hands began to tightly grip your wrist, spinning you gently onto your back as he pushed you to the ground, hovering over you. luckily, you still had your sword in your hand. you quickly moved it in front of you, holding the blade close to his neck.

“be careful, princess” he cooed, his sword digging into the dirt ground, standing upright in is position as the skin of your right thigh pressed against the blade. his hands gripped your shoulder and waist, keeping you bound to the floor as you began to squirm under his grip. “ugh, are you kidding me?!” you huffed, your face red from the feeling of intimacy between the two of you arising.

luke was basking in it, relishing the moment as he became almost addicted to the feeling of your skin against his. he let out a hitched breath, his eyes trailing down her frame as he finally realised just how close they were. the vulnerable yet stubborn look in her eyes set off a switch in him. you watched him curiously as he suddenly became a flustered mess, quickly scrambling off of you and standing up.

you lifted your back off the ground, using your hands to rid yourself of the dirt that had accumulated on your shirt.

“are you gonna explain whatever the fuck just happened, luke?” you asked, calling out to him from your spot on the ground.

he rolled his eyes, turning around to face you. “shit, y/n- are you fucking stupid?” he questioned, his voice reeking of irritation and frustration. you furrowed your brows, standing up as you approached him, sword and shield in hand. “oh, alright. forgive me for wondering why the dickhead who threw me into a lake a few days ago was pinning me to the ground in the middle of capture the flag for no reason?” i explained, seething as i pushed him back by the shoulders.

“what the fuck is your problem?” you asked again, letting yourself back him up against a nearby tree.

the game didn’t matter to you anymore. what mattered was getting to the bottom of why this prick was fucking around with you. sure, you liked how it felt being pushed against the ground. you liked the feeling of his blade pressing against your thigh. but you liked the boy more than his actions. you hated yourself for it, of course. this was the dude who’s been teasing you about and pushing you around for 3 summers straight- so why the fuck did you think he was the fittest guy you had ever laid your eyes on?

why did you want him to run his hands through your hair? suck on your neck till it went purple? why on earth did you spend countless nights dreaming about him holding you close as he slept next to you?

you were the eldest hypnos daughter at camp half-blood. you could’ve changed your dream easily; came up with literally any other fantasy at the drop of a hat- but you didn’t. you let it continue. because as much as you hated to admit it, you liked him. you wanted him bad. every last inch of him.

luke let your words echo through his mind for a bit. ‘what is my problem?’ he thought, his expression blank as he stared at you. “i don’t know, y/n! maybe my problem is you?” he said, his voice strained, yet still snarky and somewhat dramatic.

you rolled your eyes again, stepping forward. you kept your hands on his shoulders, pressing him further against the tree he was pinned against. “i’m your problem?!” you asked angrily, holding your sword against his neck once more.

“yes! you make me feel fucking weak.” luke confessed, gripping your wrist tightly as he pushed your hand away in order to create some space between his neck and the sword. “i can’t control myself around you.” he exclaimed, pushing his hand against yours as you retracted the blade from his neck.

“you bring out the worst in me, and i hate you for that.” you arched your brows, leaning forward. “that sounds like a you problem.” you quipped, defeatedly pushing the top of the blade of your sword into the ground as you let your newly free hand grip his chin- forcing him to look down at you.

luke’s hand wandered over to your face, his thumb softly grazing your bottom lip as you tilted his chin downwards, letting him look you in the eyes.

“don’t act like you don’t get exactly what i mean, princess.” he cooed, his voice low as his fingers traced over your lips and cheekbones, his other hand gently caressing your jawline as his fingertips wrapped around your neck.

you grumbled, standing on your toes to reach his height. “you’re a prick.” you scoffed, your eyes fluttering closed as you eagerly kissed him on the lips, his cheeks turning red as he mirrored your movements. he let his hands run through you hair, his other hand resting on your waist as he turned you around- pushing you against the tree now.

his hands ravenously scattered across your delicate frame, trying to feel every curve and dent on your face, back and waist. you pressed your body against his as his hands travelled across your form, closing any and all distance between the two.

after a few straight minutes of violently making out, you pulled away for air, staring into his eyes as your lower lip trembled in shock. you both tried to steady your breathing, lost in each other's eyes as your heartbeats returned back to normal.

“i’ll kiss you again if you turn around and let us win.” you said quickly, the offer seemingly the first thing you could think to say.

luke stayed quiet for a moment, before bursting out into hesitant laughter. “i mean, that’s a pretty good offer…” he said softly, letting his fingers trace your facial features as he studied the colour of your eyes.

“sure.” he said, a little smile on his face as you both leaned in again, the kiss a lot more passionate this time around. you held a clump of his hair in your hand, lightly pulling on on it as luke’s fingers jumped between gripping your neck and shoulders- the other hand running up and down your waist and hips.

you felt his knee hit the bark of the tree, slightly bent as it lightly pressed against the inside of your thigh. that’s when your hands began to grip the back of his shirt, your lips gliding down to the side of his neck. quiet moans escaped luke’s lips, only encouraging you to keep going. he moved his hand downwards, tracing circles into your hips as he moved his other arm hand upwards, cupping the space on the side of your breast with his thumb, lightly rubbing your ribcage.

the moment was only increasing in intensity- before luke was cut off my the sounds of someone calling his name. he quickly pulled away, leaving a gentle kiss on your lips before stepping back.

“right, time to hold up my end of the deal.” he chirped up, leaving one more needy kiss on your forehead.

“oh, by the way-“ he paused, before quickly pulling the bracelet you made the week before out of his pocket. “did you want this back, princess? or can i have it?” he asked cheerfully, his voice low as he looked over you.

“keep it.” you said hastily, your cheeks a vibrant shade of red. luke nodded, giving you one final kiss on the lips as he put the bracelet on the same wrist you had bitten earlier. he gave you a subtle wink and a smile, before jogging away- leaving you frozen in place.

you could hear him talking to his friend from a distance, noting on how he lied to effortlessly- saving your arse over a few kisses.

needless to say, the red team won capture the flag. but luke couldn’t bring himself to care about losing. how could he care about anything other than y/n and her hands and her smile and her eyes? her witty comments and remarks? the way she tilted her head up to look up at him? the way his face fits perfectly in her palm? how could he care about anything else ever again?

[pomefioredove]

overblots and rollo with a reader who flirts a lot unknowingly? like they see it as friendly teasing or just genuinely giving someone a compliment they don’t think of it as romantic. (their reaction to you accidentally flirting with them or. someone else and they start seething perhaps?!)

oh... I'm guilty of this (｡- .•)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ accidental flirting

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus, rollo ~☆ additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

it's not like Riddle's fellow students have never complimented him, but this is different. his academic achievement is not like... what had you said? the color of his eyes?

no one would be so bold as to compliment his physical features, let alone call them "beautiful" ... no one except for you, of course

you seemed rather confused when his whole face turned red. hopefully, you won't think about it too much...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

what was that? Leona looks nice when he dresses up? well, aren't you the flatterer? go on, then, say something else. he's listening!

Leona knows you didn't mean it that way, but that makes it even better. smug bastard. and it gives him the go ahead to flirt back, without you even realizing! if you weren't such a clueless little herbivore, he'd think you were trying to get something out of him... but you're you, so he knows you mean it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you're so strange. you're definitely just mirroring Azul's body language and flattery, but you're being genuine, too... you're so socially awkward, it's making you a flirt. he's trying to butter you up for a deal, not a date!

...well... he was, anyway

now he's got to figure out how exactly to flirt back in a way that'll sound genuine coming from him...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

is it unconscious? are you teasing? or have you suddenly become a flirt overnight? Jamil is having a difficult time reading the room, which is unusual for him. the way you've been complimenting him, batting those pretty eyelashes of yours, is... distracting, to say the least

...he could also be reading too much into this. maybe he just needs a nap

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil simply can't pass up the opportunity. can you blame him? there you are, looking adorable as per usual, telling him all this nonsense about how lucky his future partner will be, blah, blah...

and you're clueless. it's endearing, really. he'll call you sweet and leave you with a kiss on the cheek

something to think about for later ;3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

are you trying to send Idia to an early grave??? of course, the one time he lets Ortho drag him outside, there you are, as cutesy and... sunshine-y as ever, telling him you like his hair with a smile. and what does he say?

"uh- um- uh-"

great work, everyone. he'll work on that

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

fae courting is... strange. you know this. you don't know all of it, though. so when you tell Malleus you've planted some Briar Valley flora around Ramshackle for him... he sort of takes it as a vow. it's basically like a promise ring to him

he's all sunshine and rainbows for the rest of the week, much to everyone else's confusion

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rollo will hit you with the most unamused look you've gotten in your entire life, politely tell you to be decent, thank you, and then leave to lie in bed and think about your future wedding for the rest of the day. that's just the kinda guy he is

[ozzgin]

Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.

-Doll

This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)

Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader

As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)

[Part 2]

You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.

A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.

Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.

This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.

You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.

"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.

He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.

Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.

The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.

You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.

His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."

Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.

What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.

Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.

Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.

Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.

And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).

Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.

(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)

The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.

Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.

And he kept coming back?

But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.

(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)

(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he���s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)

But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.

It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.

So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!

“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”

Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”

And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.

They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.

And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!

But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).

Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.

Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)

[kumzorg]

All the arguments online about Vivian's trans identity used old japanese version as a reference point, so I wanted to see what japanese community has to say about it, and was suprised to see that it's in fact the game's original text that was rewritten.

Original japanese text:

" "Three Shadow Sisters"? Where did you get that!? You're not even a girl!"

"I'm sorry, sister..."

Rewritten japanese text:

"It's not "Three Shadow Sisters", its "Three Shadows Crew"! I'm always telling you that, damnit!"

"I'm sorry... it's just, in my heart I'm your sister as well..."

And checking the currect remake translation i t is very much exactly the same text, it makes it less as direct hatred for her identity and more like dismissal of her as a part of the family. Compare to Gamecube english version, where she is instead mocked for her looks, but not gender identity. This is so interesting to me, because in modern political scene the most annoying opinion is how "localizers are erasing culture and trying to push their own narative", when in this same game the older english translation erased character's whole identity, opting to instead make it less obvious and in a way going againts the original intent. And seeing that the modern remake is even more progressive even without english intervention makes me so happy, although I do admit it's not AS clear about it as original text. It's not bad of course, later on she directly says that "Even if my body is male, my heart is of a pretty girl." I don't know if you can be any more clear about it than that.

If anything, japanese people are at the worst neutral, and at the best are just as excited that a character that they love gets proper recognition from game's text.

What 90% of comments were more focused on is when naked invisible Peach walks on the ground and you can hear her bare feet slapping sounds, they have different priorities.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

A Day In Blood-Swell Swamp

Yandere Frog Hybrid x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, non-human genitalia, oviposition, general yandere behavior, misunderstanding, reader stuck in mud) Word Count: 1.7k (The yandere in this is a cinnamon roll. A real sweetie. Needed another one like him. He misread the reader's intent and is not at all a bad guy. Really hope you guys like him)

You were an artist on a mission. You were traveling all over your country to sketch the flora, fauna, and landscapes of various habitats. You had already visited several different forests and a couple of prairies.

Now you found yourself in Blood-Swell Swamp. The waters of the swamp were a deep red color. Many people in nearby towns were superstitious about the place and its odd colored water, but you knew it was just a combination of iron filled water and algae.

You rowed the tiny boat you had purchased and found a dry outcrop of trees overlooking the water logged scenery.

When you looked at the impressive sanguine waters and wetland forest sprawling out in front of you, you knew you had made the right decision.

You got out and tied the boat to a tree, the waters were still, but better safe than sorry.

Once you decided on a good spot to look at you pulled out your sketchbook. The first thing you sketched was a frog on a lily pad beside a blooming water lily. The next thing was a cluster of unique purple flowers.

After that you began the larger task of drawing the landscape as a whole.

You had just about finished when you heard a splash and then an enthusiastic male voice behind you.

"HI!!!"

You turned around and almost fell over. If the sudden presence of an unknown man behind you hadn’t been enough to scare you, the fact that he wasn’t human would have.

He was crouched down on very athletic looking legs, wearing nothing but a loincloth. He had long webbed toes and fingers that matched, though he only had four fingers. His mouth was a bit too long and his eyes were large and purple. He was a bit shorter than you but he clearly had a strong and compact body.

But the most odd thing was the color of his skin. He was a deep cherry red with the color transitioning into blue on his arms and legs past his elbows and knees.

His medium length black hair dripped as he tilted his head and spoke again.

“Hello? Are you okay? What are you doing?”

You collected yourself, still frightened by his appearance despite his so far friendly demeanor.

“Uh…”

“Are you okay??”

You flinched backwards as he stepped towards you. He stopped approaching as he noticed you were uncomfortable.

“I just… never saw a… what you are before…”

“Oh! Well I am a frogkin. I have seen a human or two before, but only from a distance.”

You were about to respond but he cut you off, he seemed to be really excited to have someone to chat with.

“My name is Cobi, what’re you called?”

You mentally scolded yourself for your rude and frightened demeanor and forced yourself to calm down and introduce yourself. You were in his territory after all, and he had been nothing but polite to you. You gave him your name and explained to him that you were an artist there to sketch the beauty of the swamp. You showed him your sketches.

“Oh wow, we don’t have any artists here. I have never even heard of sketches. We have some wall paintings in some of our huts, but nothing like this!”

The frog man was clearly impressed.

“Oh, I couldn’t live without being able to draw all the beauty around me. Hey, could I draw you? Just a quick sketch!”

If the skin on his face wasn’t already red you would have been able to see that he was blushing. If you drew beautiful things then that must mean you thought he was beautiful. The notion made his heart flutter.

“S-sure!” Cobi said in his ever chipper voice.

You spent some time sketching him, despite your original plan to get just a quick one in, he happily let you get a couple extra. One with him in the water and one of him crouched on a dead log.

When you finished your sketching you fished some sandwiches out of your backpack and offered one to Cobi. He took it and sniffed inquisitively trying to figure out what it was.

“It’s food, it’s called a sandwich.” You took a few bites of yours and then he took a few cautious nibbles before his eyes lit up and he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth at once. You had to stifle a laugh.

"Thank you, that was super yummy!"

Cobi was blushing more. You drew him because you thought he was beautiful. Attractive. And now you gave him food. Surely that meant you were interested in him right? People of the swamp didn’t just give food away! You gave food to those you liked. Friends, family, and potential mates you were courting!

Even if it was subconscious you probably were trying to court him. And he really wanted to explore the possibility of being your partner too, you were so kind and interesting.

But he didn't want to jump the gun and assume before he had a bit more solid evidence. So instead of asking or acting on what he felt all the evidence pointing to he just hung around and chatted with you a bit more while you finished your meal.

You finished your food slowly, enjoying your time getting to know the inquisitive frogkin. You answered all of his seemingly inexhaustible supply of  questions.

When you finished and said your goodbyes he seemed sad, but you were a traveler. You couldn't really make lasting friendships. And then, when you started to get up, you fell right over your own feet. Your arm stuck in some thick mud with your face low to the ground and your ass pointed up.

And that was all the confirmation Cobi needed. Ass up and presenting. The universal signal to breed!

If you had been able to see his face you would have seen that he was flustered beyond measure. You were also far too preoccupied to notice what Cobi was muttering.

"Oh... well I thought that maybe you just wanted to c-court and get to know one another better... I thought.. I j-just um... well it's just that... I-I have never even done it before... but... it seems like you really want to..."

Despite it being a bit fast he supposed he had become quite smitten with you. And, well, maybe humans coupled faster than frogkin. And he really didn't want to hurt you or offend you!

"O-okay, I'll do it!" He exclaimed loudly.

You were finally almost out of the muck and were about to ask him what he was going to do when he suddenly pulled your pants down and slid his huge tongue right into your entrance. You shuddered in shock and ended up with both hands stuck in the mud.

"Wh-what are you doing!?"

Cobi wasn't paying any attention to your words, not as lost in his efforts to loosen up your hole in preparation for the main event as he was. He gripped your legs with his webbed hands as his tongue probed you as deeply as possible, kneading and throbbing and gently stretching out your insides.

The pleasure was indescribable. You wanted Cobi to stop, but time you tried to articulate a protest the only sound you managed to produce was a loud moan or gasp.

And of course the only possible reaction Cobi could have to that was to think that he was doing a great job making his new mate nice. And he wanted to feel good with you.

He removed the slimy tongue from your entrance and removed his loincloth. Cobi then aligned his engorged cock and drew circles against it with before tip before slowly sinking into your tight heat. He had held reservations about making love to you so soon into courting, but now that he was inside you the last of them had melted away.

"Oh, oh, ooohh, you feel so amazing! I-i think you were meant for this pretty artist~"

Much in the same way that your resolve had melted away under the burning flood of pleasure Cobi was drowning you in. Judging by how it felt it was no human cock. It was much longer, a little thicker, and felt a bit slimy. With every thrust you lost a bit more of yourself until you were moving back against his movements, desperately trying to chase the orgasm you were building up to.

You had just come here to help along your art and now here you were in the mud mounted like a bitch in heat and enjoying it. It would have been humiliating if you had the capacity to dwell on such matters.

There were more important things to think about right now. Like the cock breeding you. The feel of unnaturally heavy nuts smacking into you. The soft and attentive lips kissing up your backside, straining to reach your neck.

You arched your back as you had the most mind shattering climax of your life.

"I can't hold back anymore. You sketched for me. L-let me just paint your insides for you~"

And then you learned why his nuts felt so heavy as they slammed against you. As he filled you he deposited much more than just normal cum. Over dozens of small round objects flooded into you and adhered themselves to your walls.

"Wh-what the?"

Cobi plucked you out of the mud with ease and pulled you into his lap as he sat down, with his prick still buried snugly inside of you. He held you close to his sweaty body and caressed your belly lovingly.

Now that you had a moment to process your predicament and the events that had just transpired you were completely dumbfounded. One moment you were trying to get out of the mire and the next you were being fucked.

"I'm so glad you wanted to be mates~"

Your mind was reeling trying to come up with a response to such an outrageous claim. When had you expressed anything resembling such a des-

"Mmmm~" Instead you could only reply with a pathetic pleased whimper as Cobi began rolling his hips, grinding into you and very slowly fucking you for a second time.

"Don't worry, I have plenty more eggs just for my sweet artist~"

You could only lean back against him and drool as he wrapped his arms around you possessively and temporarily fucked your mind away once more.

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (07)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 8.1k

Aliyah's Notes: the way i wanted this chapter to be around 5k... but anyw, the ending to that chapter is pretty good so y'all can rest in peace lmaoo but problems are coming hehehehehe

The sound of her heels clicking on the pavement cut through the evening air, each step echoing louder than the last. You barely registered the chill of the evening as her figure came into view—Chiara Romano, arms folded over her chest, her expression a delicate balance of innocence and something unmistakably venomous. A small, mocking smile played at the corners of her lips, her gaze roaming over you with the kind of appraisal that felt like a slap.

Beside you, Rafe tensed, his gaze hardening as he straightened, clearly prepared for whatever barbs she had in store. You forced yourself to stand taller, meeting her gaze with a coolness you could barely muster.

“Chiara,” you said, injecting a polite edge into your voice that you knew was as fake as her smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, I just felt like things ended a bit... strange at the party,” she replied, her tone sugary sweet yet laced with something bitter. “Especially after seeing the headlines about you.” She let out a small sigh, as though feigning concern. “I couldn’t help but worry.”

A sharp laugh almost slipped from your lips. The headlines. She was talking about the recent media talking about your “potential” relapse… which were true. News of your recent struggles had been going viral, and she was here to dangle them in front of you. The reality of your relapse was raw, but admitting it—especially to Chiara—was out of the question.

“Did you, now?” You kept your voice light, your smile tight as you watched her closely.

“Of course,” she nodded, her eyes darting pointedly between you and Rafe, her expression softening with feigned empathy. “Us girls have to look out for each other,” she added, a hint of mock sincerity weaving through her words. “I just hope Rafe’s taking excellent care of you. I mean, if he’s able to.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes or worse—to let your anger slip through. Instead, you returned her smile with a casual shrug. “He is, thank you,” you replied, forcing your tone to stay neutral. “And I’m doing just fine. I haven’t relapsed—.”

“You sure?” she pressed, her voice a touch too innocent. “You look... thinner than I remember.”

You felt a twisted sort of satisfaction creeping in, an internal smile that you kept hidden. It was strange—almost absurd—but her attempt to make you feel small, to jab at your insecurities, did the opposite. She said it to be cruel; she thought her words would cut you deeply. But instead, they landed somewhere softer, failing to sting the way she intended.

Rafe’s voice cut through the tension, his tone sharp and commanding, filled with an authority that even you hadn’t heard from him before. “Alright, that’s enough,” he warned, his words laced with a chill that could silence a room. “Keep talking like that, and you’ll be the one making headlines.”

Chiara’s gaze flicked to Rafe, her lips curling into a sly smile, undeterred by his warning. “Oh, Rafe, always so protective,” she cooed, her tone dripping with mock innocence. “I thought we were past all that. After all, we did come here together.”

You blinked, the words sinking in like a stone dropping into still water, each ripple spreading through you. “You… came here with him?” you asked, keeping your voice steady, though your heart was pounding.

Chiara’s smile widened, a hint of triumph in her expression. “Of course. We just thought it’d be convenient, didn’t we, Rafe?”

Your eyes shifted to him, searching his face for any denial, some sign that this was just another one of her games. But Rafe stayed silent, his expression tinged with guilt, lips pressed together as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.

He had, in fact, come with her.

The air thick, with Chiara’s truth and Rafe’s guilty silence. Every moment he said nothing, the disappointment pooled deeper in your chest, twisting painfully.

You crossed your arms, your gaze hardening as you looked at him. “Convenient?” The word slipped from your mouth, laced with bitter disbelief. “Convenient for who, exactly?”

Rafe opened his mouth, struggling to find the right words, but nothing came out. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he might deny it, try to explain. But his shoulders sagged slightly, defeated, as he glanced away.

Chiara’s voice broke the silence, her tone feigning sympathy. “Oh, don’t be upset. It’s not like you’re the only woman in his life, right?” She leaned back with a satisfied smile, clearly relishing the wedge she’d managed to drive between you.

“Alright, you know what?” you said, forcing a calm into your voice that belied the anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I don’t really care what arrangement you two have. But what I’d like to know, Chiara, is why you’re actually here. What do you want?”

Chiara’s smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second, before she recovered, her expression shifting to a mischievous glint. “I’m here to support my father’s event, naturally,” she replied smoothly. “But I couldn’t resist the chance to catch up with Rafe and see how… everything’s going with you two.”

You felt the anger begin to surge again, but you reined it in, straightening and lifting your chin. “Then let’s hope tonight’s as memorable as you’re expecting.” You threw a final look at Rafe, disappointment flickering in your gaze.

With that, you walked toward the car and sat in the passenger seat, forcing yourself to ignore the ache in your chest as you disappeared into the throng of people.

From the corner of your eye, you watched Rafe and Chiara exchange a few heated words. His jaw clenched as he spoke, his eyes narrowed in a way that told you he was holding back the anger simmering just beneath the surface. Chiara, on the other hand, looked anything but apologetic, her expression smug as she responded with an air of indifference. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but every movement, every flash of irritation in Rafe’s eyes only deepened the tight knot of frustration in your chest.

Before long, they finally turned, heading toward the car, and you forced yourself to look away and just focus on the city lights ahead of you. The silence that filled the car was thick, unbearably tense. The engine hummed beneath you, but the weight of everything unsaid made each passing second feel longer. You kept your eyes on the window, refusing to break the silence, even as your exhaustion began to creep in, your eyelids growing heavy.

Just as you started to drift, you felt him lean forward, his breath warm against your ear as he broke the silence, his voice low and soft. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, the apology laced with a vulnerability that caught you off guard.

You exhaled sharply, holding back the initial pang of anger. “You’re sorry?” you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you finally turned to face him, one eyebrow raised. “For what, exactly? For keeping me in the dark? For thinking I wouldn’t notice you driving here with her?”

Rafe’s expression softened, his guilt evident as he held your gaze, searching for the right words. “It wasn’t like that. She… she just showed up. I didn’t think—”

You scoffed, cutting him off. “That’s the problem. You didn’t think. Or maybe you did, and just didn’t care to clue me in.” As his apology hung in the air, you couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Unbelievable,” you muttered, refusing to look at him. “So what, Cameron? You thought I’d just sit there and take it?”

He shifted closer, his voice strained. “I told you, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t invite her. She just… she knew I was coming here, and it felt easier to—”

“Easier?” You turned in your seat to face him, disbelief and frustration clear in your eyes. “Easier for who, exactly? Because it sure as hell wasn’t easier for me.”

Rafe’s gaze dropped, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel. “Look, I know how it looks, but… she was already in the car before I could even think about it. I didn’t want to make a scene.”

You narrowed your eyes, unimpressed. “So, you thought the best plan was to just go along with her? To let her be seen with you, knowing exactly how that would make me look?”

“Y/N, I know I messed up, okay?” He leaned closer, the regret in his eyes almost palpable. “I was just trying to keep things calm. I didn’t want it to turn into something it didn’t have to be.”

“Oh, so you didn’t want to ‘make a scene’ with her, but now you’re perfectly fine with making me feel like an idiot?” you shot back, folding your arms. “How considerate of you.”

Rafe let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. “Can’t you just trust that I was doing what I thought was right?”

You rolled your eyes, the bitterness evident in your tone. “I don’t trust you.” You turned away, staring at the passing lights outside. "And you’re only apologizing now because you got caught."

He was silent for a moment, the weight of your words settling in. “I don’t want to keep doing this, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to feel like this… like I don’t care.”

You laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Then stop giving me reasons to feel this way.”

You leaned against the window, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the passing city lights. During the car ride, Chiara, for once, seemed to get the hint and kept her mouth shut, though every so often you caught her glancing at Rafe through the rearview mirror. Rafe, on the other hand, drove with a steady determination, occasionally glancing at you as though he was waiting for you to say something—anything—that might break the unbearable quiet. But you refused to give him that satisfaction, and instead, kept your focus outward, on anything but the two people in the car with you.

As the car rolled to a stop in front of the charity venue, Chiara was quick to jump out, immediately making a beeline for her father, who was waiting near the entrance. The flash of photographers’ cameras lit up the scene, and she threw a gleeful smile their way, basking in the attention as she reached her father’s side.

You took a steady breath and turned to Rafe, letting out a sigh that seemed to carry every ounce of frustration you’d been holding onto. He was watching you, his expression caught somewhere between apology and uncertainty.

“Alright, Cameron,” you began, forcing a professional tone. “Let’s get this over with. We need a story to tell about how we met, so listen to me; we met through a mutual friend at some rooftop party in the city. You were immediately smitten.”

“Smitten?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow. His mouth curved into a playful grin. “Strong word there. Don’t know if I’ve ever been ‘smitten.’”

“Well, you have now,” you said without missing a beat. “We sat at the same table, and you told me some fake, but charming story about how you don’t like crowds and would rather be anywhere else.”

“So, I’m just a liar?” he said with a grin.

“Yes, apparently,” you said, your voice flat as you rolled your eyes.

“That’s deserved, alright,” he shrugged, and leaned closer. “But, let’s make this fun. How about we tweak the story a bit? Let’s say you chased me down after that rooftop party, practically begging for my number.”

“You must be high,” you scoffed, looking at him like he’d just suggested the earth was flat. “No one would believe I’d chase after you. Besides, I’d rather walk across hot coals than let people think I was desperate for you.”

Rafe gave a lighthearted shrug, clearly entertained by your reaction. “Alright, but if anyone asks, I’ll just say I was the reluctant charmer who had to be convinced.”

You couldn’t help the sarcastic laugh that slipped out. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘charm’ like ghosting someone for two weeks.”

He winced but quickly recovered, that easy smirk slipping back into place. “Ouch. Alright, I deserved that one too. But admit it, you’d be impressed if I played hard-to-get. It’d add some mystery to our ‘relationship.’”

You deadpanned, “It’d add some credibility if you remembered the actual story. Try to keep up with the backstory, Cameron. We’re supposed to be in love, remember?”

Rafe placed a hand on his heart, feigning a wounded expression. “So cruel. Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you’re just brushing me off like I’m nothing.”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “How does that feel, huh? To be brushed off?”

His smile dropped immediately. “I’ll stick to the script. Mutual friends, a little bit of rooftop magic, and me falling head over heels. Got it.”

“Good. And try to remember: we’ve been dating long enough that you’d know basic things, like my favorite color and the fact that I don’t like seafood.”

“Got it,” he said with a nod, giving you a mock salute. Then, with a sly grin, he added, “Anything else I should know? Like, if you’ve got a celebrity crush, maybe?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smile despite yourself. “This is a charity event, Cameron, not a middle school dance. Stick to the basics, and we’ll be fine.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, boss. Just wanted to know if I’ve got any competition out there.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Trust me, you’d know if there was competition.”

The banter fell into a comfortable silence, the tension lifting slightly as you both prepared for the performance ahead. But as you glanced out the window, watching Chiara drape herself over her father’s arm like she owned the place, the humor faded, and a steely resolve settled over you.

Rafe must have noticed, because he leaned forward, his expression growing more serious. “Hey, I know tonight’s going to be… less than ideal,” he said, his tone softening. “But we’ve got this. Just follow my lead if things get tricky, alright?”

You looked at him, skepticism still lingering, but his sincerity caught you off guard. “Let’s just keep this professional,” you replied, but your tone was gentler, almost reluctant.

“Deal,” he said, giving you a small, genuine smile. “Let’s make ‘em believe it.”

With that, he opened his door and walked around to your side, offering you his hand as you stepped out. You hesitated, then took it, maintaining a cool composure as camera flashes went off around you. The crowd erupted in a flurry of clicks and flashes, and you could already hear the low hum of voices speculating about the two of you.

Rafe leaned down slightly, his hand resting lightly on your back as he guided you forward. “Smile like you’re the happiest you’ve ever been,” he whispered, his tone playful but warm. “And maybe… just pretend you don’t want to strangle me for a few minutes.”

You tilted your head, flashing him a fake, overly-sweet smile. “Oh, trust me, that’ll be the hardest part.”

He chuckled, giving the reporters a charming wave as he leaned in, whispering back, “Keep smiling like that, and people might actually believe you like me.”

You leaned in closer, maintaining the smile for the cameras. “Don’t get too comfortable. This is just for show.”

“Right,” he whispered, a teasing glint in his eye. “But if we happen to have a little fun, is that so bad?”

Before you could answer, Chiara’s voice rang out over the crowd, all fake sweetness as she greeted her father, loudly proclaiming her excitement for the event. You caught Rafe’s eye, sharing a look of silent exasperation.

“Stick to the story. Don’t slip up.”

“Got it, boss,” he whispered back, his tone lighthearted as he gave you a quick wink. “Let’s go give them a show.”

You sipped your champagne, feigning interest in the event as your gaze flickered over the crowd, hoping to find something—anything—to break up the monotony. Conversations about Rafe’s latest matches, your recent shoot for Vogue, and even the upcoming Chanel campaign rolled through the evening like clockwork, the same pleasantries exchanged over and over. Rafe played his part perfectly, always flashing that magnetic smile, leaning in as if every word you said was his world. You kept a poised expression, smiling when necessary, but each compliment and question blended into the next, leaving you restless.

Just as you managed to suppress a yawn, a commanding voice sounded from behind. “Y/N Y/L/N, the woman of the hour.” You turned, and there stood Charles Kensington, a CEO of one of the event’s largest sponsors, known as much for his relentless pursuit of younger models as for his cutthroat business strategies. He extended a hand with a smirk that was more predatory than friendly, his gaze sweeping over you with an appreciation that lingered far too long. “I’m Charles Kesington. It’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise,” you replied politely, giving him a polite smile as you shook his hand. “And congratulations on your company’s recent acquisition. Impressive move.”

Charles smiled, clearly pleased. “Ah, you’ve been keeping up, I see. You’re as sharp as they say.” His gaze lingered, a touch too intense, and his hand remained over yours a second longer than necessary. “And I must say, even more beautiful in person. Your upcoming campaign with Chanel is already causing quite a buzz.”

Rafe’s arm tightened around your waist as he turned to face Charles, his smile polite but lacking warmth. “Nice to see you, Charles.”

Charles nodded at Rafe, though his attention stayed firmly on you. “I’ve seen your work everywhere recently,” he said, his voice dropping into an intimate tone. “Chanel made a wise choice—although I’d argue that any brand would be lucky to have you representing them.”

“Thank you,” you replied coolly, catching the faint annoyance in Rafe’s jaw as it clenched. But Charles either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“You’re too kind, Mr. Kensington,” you replied, ignoring the way his eyes drifted over you. “And thank you. I’m honored to be working with such a renowned brand.”

“Oh, please,” he said, dismissing the formality with a wave of his hand. “Call me Charles. You know, I’d love to see you star in one of our campaigns someday. I’d love to discuss a potential collaboration over dinner,” he added, his voice lowering just enough to feel like a private invitation, despite Rafe’s presence.

You forced a polite laugh, though you felt Rafe’s grip tighten again. “Thank you, Charles. That’s very generous but—”

Rafe cleared his throat, the sound deliberate. “Actually, Y/N’s schedule is pretty packed for the next few months,” he said, his tone friendly but laced with an unmistakable edge. “With the Chanel campaign, her other upcoming works, and our time together, I’m not sure there’s room for much else.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, glancing at Rafe with an amused smile, as if he’d only just noticed him standing there. “Ah, Mr. Cameron. Quite a lucky man, aren’t you?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, but he managed a tight smile. “I’d say so.”

Charles leaned a bit closer, his attention fixed back on you. “Well, if you ever find a free moment, I’d be more than happy to take you on a tour of our headquarters. You know, just to chat about future opportunities.”

The thinly veiled invitation hung in the air, and you felt a slight discomfort, but you kept your smile in place. “Thank you for the offer, Charles. But as my boyfriend mentioned, I’m quite busy these days.”

Charles’ gaze flicked between the two of you, his smile widening slightly, clearly enjoying the tension he’d stirred up. “Of course. I understand entirely,” he replied smoothly, offering you a final lingering look before excusing himself.

The moment he was out of earshot, Rafe turned to you, his expression thunderous. “What the hell was that?”

You blinked, feigning innocence. “What was what?”

“That guy was practically undressing you with his eyes,” he muttered, his tone low and irritated. “And you didn’t seem too bothered by it.”

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Maybe because I don’t see the point in making a scene over a harmless conversation.”

Rafe scoffed, his hand still firmly around your waist. “Harmless? That guy was two seconds away from asking for your number.”

You rolled your eyes, barely managing to hide your smirk. “Jealous, Cameron?”

Rafe’s gaze hardened, and he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you think I’m just going to stand there while some old fucker tries to flirt with you, you’re wrong.”

The intensity in his voice sent a flicker of satisfaction through you, though you kept your expression neutral. “Relax, Mike Tyson. It was just a conversation. It’s not like he’s the first man to ever show interest in me.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing, “he should know you’re off-limits.”

You shot him a sidelong glance, amused by his possessiveness. “Is that right? I don’t recall signing any contract that says I’m ‘off-limits.’”

His grip tightened, his face a mixture of frustration and something else—something deeper, something he was clearly trying to suppress. “You’re my girlfriend and about to become my wife, consider it an unspoken rule, then.”

You felt a thrill at his words, but you kept your tone casual. “If that’s the case, maybe you should make it more convincing.”

He leaned closer, his hand brushed against your cheek, fingers lingering just enough to send a spark through you. “Convincing?”

His eyes never left yours, flickering briefly to your lips, and you could feel the heat building between you, a tension that seemed to stretch out endlessly. The hum of the event around you began to fade, and suddenly, it was as if there was no one else in the room—just the two of you, drawn together by something that felt far more complicated than a simple arrangement.

His breath, warm and steady against your skin, made your pulse quicken. You found yourself instinctively closing your eyes as his face came even closer, the space between you narrowing with every passing second. The moment was electric, charged with an undeniable pull that you could no longer ignore.

For the briefest moment, you forgot all the reasons you’d been upset with him in the first place. His proximity, the way he looked at you, the way his lips seemed so close—it was almost impossible to think about anything else. You ached to feel him again, to taste his lips, to feel the weight of his body against yours. All that mattered was the way your skin burned for him, how every nerve in you seemed to come alive at the thought of him touching you again. You wanted him. 

Desperately.

But just before his lips touched yours, a familiar voice cut through the quiet intensity.

"Y/N! There you are!” Aisha’s voice was bright and unapologetic, carrying her trademark liveliness that filled any room. Startled, you and Rafe pulled apart just in time to see her approach, her arms outstretched and a radiant smile on her face.

You could only laugh as she practically tackled you with a hug, pulling you in tightly. Standing just a few inches taller than you, her warm brown skin glowed against the dark emerald of her satin dress, a color that complemented her deeply curly hair that cascaded freely around her shoulders. Her high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes sparkled with joy, her makeup accentuating her features with a natural, dewy look and a bold cat-eye makeup.

"Oh my God!" you managed through your laughter. "I had no idea you’d arrived already."

She finally released you from the hug but kept her hands on your shoulders, looking you over with a proud, glowing smile. “As if I’d miss this! You look absolutely breathtaking, girl—that dress was made for you. No one else could do it justice.”

You spun around, letting the fabric fan out as you struck a playful pose. “You really like it?”

“Like it? I am in-freaking-love, are you serious?” she squealed, and the two of you burst into laughter, clapping your hands together with giddy excitement. “I’ve missed you so much.”

You pressed a hand to your forehead, sighing dramatically. “I’ve missed you way more—can you believe it’s only been a year and I’m already involved with a white man? Truly, how crazy is that?”

Aisha’s gaze snapped to Rafe, who stood a little behind you, clearly surprised to be noticed so suddenly. You stifled a laugh as he shifted, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Aisha's eyes narrowed slightly as she took him in, her gaze appraising and unblinking, as if she was assessing him for every possible flaw.

“Rafe Cameron, meet Aisha Patel—my best friend,” you said, tugging Aisha closer. “Aisha, this is Rafe, my... boyfriend.”

She didn’t say a word, just let her eyes scan him from head to toe with a critical intensity. You recognized this familiar expression—it was her way of warning anyone interested in you that hurting you would come with consequences. She always put your partners through this silent scrutiny, hoping to rattle them and make it clear they had to earn her approval.

Rafe, though clearly aware of her intent, extended his hand, maintaining an uneasy but polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Aisha.”

For a split second, she didn’t budge, letting the moment stretch just long enough to make him shift uncomfortably. You quickly grabbed her hand, easing it into his before she could escalate the standoff. “She’s usually much friendlier, I swe—”

“My dad has a gun,” she said quietly, her tone so flat it made the tension in the air sharpen. “And he taught me how to use it.”

You laughed a little, trying to ease the weight of her words. “She’s just kidding… right?”

But she didn’t break. Her gaze stayed fixed on Rafe, unwavering. “Only one way to find out, Rafe Cameron,” she replied coldly.

Rafe’s eyes flickered, and after a long moment, he dropped his gaze with a tight nod. “Guess I know where Y/N got her threatening techniques from,” he said with a small grin, the usual smugness back in his voice.

His expression, so casual and light, cut deeper than you expected. It felt like he knew exactly what he was doing, toying with a conversation he’d read from a distance and kept deliberately unanswered. He’d seen your texts, read every one of them, and left them cold and untouched. You felt the hurt creeping up in a way that left you exposed, vulnerable in a way you swore you wouldn’t be around him.

You pulled in a slow breath, forcing your face back to neutral, hoping Aisha wouldn’t notice the flicker of pain in your eyes. She turned to say something to Rafe, and you straightened, pulling your walls up as fast as you could, sealing the hurt beneath a calm you’d mastered. Just one more second, and no one would ever know.

Aisha leaned forward, curious but amused. “So… how’d you two meet?”

You shot Rafe a quick look, and he gave a subtle nod, leaving you to tell the story. “We met a few months back at this party,” you started.

“Rooftop party,” Rafe corrected, unable to resist chiming in.

“Right, a rooftop party,” you agreed, giving him a playful look. “And the second he laid eyes on me, he was enchanted—absolutely down bad,” you teased, letting a smirk cross your face.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, giving a mock-serious nod. “Completely leveled me. Could barely walk straight after that.”

“Completely down bad,” you agreed, tilting your head with a smile. “Apparently, my beauty was just too blinding. He had no choice but to come talk to me, and once he did? Well, he realized I was so much more than a pretty face. He was hooked on how charming, funny, and—”

“And how sassy she was,” Rafe finished, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary.

Aisha looked between the two of you, raising an eyebrow. “Sassy with you? Really?”

Rafe laughed, running a hand through his hair. “That mouth of hers—I swear, there’s not a single day where she’s not giving me that attitude,” he added with a soft smile in your direction.

“Interesting… Very interesting.” Aisha looked between you two with a grin, shaking her head. “And, what happened after that?”

Rafe leaned back, crossing his arms as he tried to act casual. "Well, after that, I pretty much chased her down just to get a date," he said with a smirk. "The rest is history."

You rolled your eyes, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, he’s underselling it. He spent weeks trying to get my number, asking me out every day on Instagram, but I wasn’t having it. I kept hearing all these things about him…"

"Like what?" Aisha leaned in, eyes widening in anticipation.

"That he was a total player," you said, pausing for effect, earning a gasp from Aisha that you matched with a knowing nod. Meanwhile, Rafe just chuckled, shaking his head at your theatrics. "I know, girl!" you went on, shooting Rafe a playful look. "But he finally convinced me to go on a date… and he actually wasn’t so bad. So I gave him another shot, and, well…" You shrugged, glancing over at him with a smile. "Here we are."

Aisha took it all in, folding her arms and tapping her fingers thoughtfully.

“Wow,” she said, eyeing him with newfound curiosity. “I didn’t peg you for the persistent type, Rafe. Especially not with someone like my girl.”

Rafe shot her a confident smile, though there was a quiet warmth in his expression that didn’t quite match the usual cocky bravado. “Yeah, she’s special. Knew it from the moment I saw her.”

You couldn’t help the warmth that rushed through you at his words, a sudden rush of affection you hadn’t expected, especially not in front of Aisha. There was something in the way he looked at you that made the air feel thicker, charged with something unspoken. It sent an unexpected flutter through your chest, a reminder that underneath all the tension, the public facade, and the expectations, there was still something raw between you—something that felt real in a way you hadn’t quite anticipated. 

“Smooth talker, huh?” you teased, nudging Rafe lightly with your elbow. “You’re really laying it on thick tonight, aren’t you?”

Aisha’s sharp eyes flicked between you both, her protective instincts clearly on high alert. “Yeah, I’m picking up on that. But just so you know, Rafe, I’ve got my eye on you. You hurt her, and you won’t just be dealing with me, you’ll be dealing with my dad, too.”

Rafe’s lips curved into a smile, but there was something more guarded behind his eyes now, as though he recognized the weight of her words. “I get it,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Aisha seemed to size him up for a moment longer, letting the silence stretch just enough to make the air thick with tension. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she gave a slow nod, her stance softening just a little. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it,” she said, her tone easing. “But I’m still watching.”

You felt a strange sense of pride at that. Aisha had always been fiercely protective of you, and while it sometimes grated on your nerves, you knew deep down it was just because she cared. No one had ever had your back the way she did. You weren’t sure if Rafe fully understood that yet, but from the way he glanced at her—slightly uncertain, but respectful—you could tell he was beginning to get the message.

“Enough of the heavy shit,” Aisha said, breaking the tension with a clap of her hands and a sudden bright smile. “This is supposed to be fun, right? I’m here to celebrate, and I’m done with the interrogation. So, let’s have some fucking fun!”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine as you clinked your glass with hers. The champagne sparkled in your hand, and for the first time that evening, you felt a sense of relief. The weight of the conversation had shifted from uncomfortable to just... amusing. Aisha was nothing if not relentless in her approach, but you appreciated the way she could lighten any situation, especially when it felt like the pressure of your fake engagement was hanging over your head like a storm cloud.

“To my best friend and her very determined boyfriend,” Aisha toasted, her grin widening. “May you both drive each other crazy for a long, long time!”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Aish’. Really. A long, long time,” you echoed, sipping from your glass as she gave you a knowing look.

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere began to shift. The crowd mingled, voices rose and fell in an endless tide of conversation, and the hum of background music seemed to fade into the distance. It felt like the world was in motion, but you and Rafe were standing still, caught in some kind of unspoken orbit that neither of you could quite navigate. 

People came and went, exchanging pleasantries, business deals, and compliments, but you and Rafe couldn’t seem to look away from each other. Even when he was speaking with someone else or laughing at a joke Aisha made, you felt his presence, heavy and undeniable.

You’d told yourself that tonight was about putting on a show for the cameras, about playing the part of the perfect couple, and you had every intention of sticking to the script. But as the night wore on, you realized how hard it was to keep pretending when Rafe’s touch lingered just a little longer than necessary, when his eyes followed you across the room with that possessive intensity you couldn’t quite ignore. There were moments when you caught him looking at you like no one else mattered, and for a brief second, the walls you’d so carefully constructed between the two of you threatened to crumble.

It wasn’t just the way he touched you when no one was looking, or the way he’d half-smiled at you in the middle of a crowd, as if sharing some private joke. It was the small things—the subtle ways he’d let you know he cared, even when he was keeping his distance. How his arm would brush against yours when you stood next to each other, how he’d glance at you in the middle of a conversation, as if checking to make sure you were still there, still paying attention. How he’d subtly reposition his hand on your waist, or how his thumb would brush against your back when you’d lean in close to hear something better.

And then, there were the moments when it seemed like neither of you knew how to deal with the chemistry that crackled between you. You’d both been avoiding it for so long, keeping your emotions buried under layers of professionalism and convenience, but tonight, it was becoming harder to ignore. The closer you got, the more the lines between what was real and what was fabricated began to blur.

A sudden vibration in your pocket startled you, pulling you out of your reverie. You slid your phone out, heart still racing from the interaction with Rafe, and your eyes immediately landed on the name that made your stomach drop: Mom.

Your heart skipped a beat as you unlocked the screen, only to see a simple message that made your blood run cold:

“Y/N, we’ve heard the news. This is a disgrace. This is not how we raised you. You’re nothing but a joke.”

You blinked at the message, trying to process it. News? What news? You hadn’t even talked to them in years. 

Before you could think further, the sickening feeling in your stomach intensified. Without even realizing it, you clicked over to the news app, and the headline that greeted you nearly stopped your heart:

“Rafe Cameron Engaged to Model Y/N Y/L/N: A Surprise Announcement”

Your pulse spiked, your fingers trembling as you scrolled down. The article was filled with blurry images from earlier in the evening, showing you and Rafe sharing moments too intimate for the cameras, your faces filled with a mix of affection and tension. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t supposed to be this fast.

How could this have leaked?

Your chest tightened as a suffocating wave of panic hit you. You could feel your breath quicken, the world around you suddenly feeling too small, too fast, and you couldn’t catch your breath. You looked around the room, your vision blurring as the walls seemed to close in. The voices around you grew muffled, the lights too bright, too harsh.

“Y/N?”

Rafe’s voice pulled you back to reality, but it was distant, like it came from a far-off place. You tried to focus on him, on his familiar blue eyes, but everything felt off, like you couldn’t quite make sense of what was happening.

The phone dropped from your hand, and before you knew it, your vision went dark. Your breath hitched in your chest as your body trembled with the onset of a panic attack. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control, and you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

And then, in the midst of it all, you felt it—something slipping from your bag pocket, a small metallic sound against the floor. But you couldn’t focus on it. Not now. Not with everything else overwhelming you. Your heart pounded in your ears, drowning out the noise around you as you tried to steady yourself, hands trembling at your sides.

You heard the faint clink again, but you were too far gone, too panicked, to care.

Rafe’s arms were around you before you even realized he was there, his voice low and urgent. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” His hand was on your back, guiding you gently but firmly as he led you outside, away from the noise and chaos of the event.

“I—I—” Your words faltered, and you gasped for air, trying to calm your breathing, but it was like your lungs had stopped working.

“Shh, just breathe, baby, okay?” Rafe’s voice was steady, guiding you through it like he’d done this before. His hand was pressing into your back in rhythmic motions, trying to ground you. “You’re okay, I promise.”

You leaned against him, trying to steady your frantic breathing, but it was hard. Everything felt so chaotic, too fast. The news. The message from your parents. Rafe. Your relapse. The engagement. The shame. The eyes on you.

“I… I got a message from my parents,” you managed to gasp between breaths. “They already know... the news... I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for any of this, Rafe.”

His face softened, but there was confusion in his eyes. He looked like he didn’t fully understand, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he just nodded and gave you a reassuring squeeze, his arms enveloping you in warmth. “Hey, it’s alright. We’ll figure this out. I’ve got you, okay?”

You buried your face in his chest, as if you’ve been doing forever, the tears finally coming, and you didn’t even try to hold them back. Your body shook as the sobs wracked through you. Everything felt like it was falling apart, all the control you’d tried so hard to maintain slipping through your fingers. The fake engagement, the pressure to live up to everyone’s expectations, the constant balancing act—it was too much.

“Shhh,” Rafe murmured again, his voice a steady, comforting presence against the storm inside you. “You’re okay, baby. We’re gonna get through this.”

Still shaking, you pulled away slightly, wiping your face with the back of your hand as you tried to steady yourself. Rafe didn’t push you away. He just stayed close, his hands hovering near you, ready to catch you if you needed him.

“I can’t… I can’t do this. Not like this,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you spoke. “Everything’s happening too fast. I didn’t expect it to go like this, Rafe. I didn’t plan for my parents to know about this. It’s not supposed to be like this.”

He seemed to register the panic in your voice, though he still didn’t fully understand why it was affecting you like this. Still, he didn’t question you further. He just nodded again, that protective instinct rising in him. “Alright, we’ll get you home, okay?”

You nodded quietly as he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the fabric warm against your skin. If you weren’t so caught up in your emotions, you might have found the gesture cute. “Yes, please…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Just relax, okay? I’m right here.”

Before you knew it, he was guiding you toward his car, his hand firmly but gently around your arm as he helped you get inside. The drive home was a blur, your mind a chaotic mess of racing thoughts. You tried to fight the exhaustion pulling at you, but it was useless. As soon as you buckled your seatbelt, your body seemed to give up the fight.

You curled up against the seat, closing your eyes, and within minutes, you were asleep. The quiet hum of the car as Rafe drove was the only thing that kept you tethered to reality.

Rafe glanced over at you every few moments as he drove, the concern never leaving his face. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you tonight, not since the moment the tension between you had grown so palpable. He could feel it in his chest—the fear that something would go wrong, that something would happen to make everything fall apart.

As he looked at you now, sleeping peacefully, he couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him. He didn’t understand it—didn’t fully understand what was happening between the two of you—but the depth of concern he felt for you surprised him. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d wanted to protect you, how he’d wanted to be there for you when you needed it the most.

But now, as you slept, he realized something he hadn’t allowed himself to admit before: he didn’t want to lose you. The idea of seeing you hurt, seeing you break down, sent a pang of guilt through him. He hadn’t planned on this feeling, hadn’t planned on the way he’d come to care about you, but it was undeniable now.

Being away from you for two weeks made him come to a few undeniable realizations. He missed you—more than he’d like to admit. He missed the way your smile lit up the room whenever you looked at him, the playful roll of your eyes when you thought he was being ridiculous. He missed the banter, the little jabs you’d throw his way, always keeping him on his toes. Most of all, he missed hearing your voice, the way it grounded him in ways he never expected.

He regretted everything—the distance, the silence, the mess he’d made—and he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to make it right.

The car approached your apartment building, Rafe slowed down, glancing over at you one last time. You hadn’t stirred for a while, and he didn’t want to wake you up too abruptly, but he knew you needed to get out. He gently reached over and brushed your shoulder, speaking softly.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice careful as if not wanting to startle you. “We’re here.”

You blinked a few times, slowly coming to, the remnants of sleep fading from your face as you sat up straight. For a moment, you looked around, trying to get your bearings, and then your eyes landed on him. You offered him a small, grateful smile, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly, your voice still hoarse with exhaustion. “I really appreciate it.”

Rafe nodded, watching you with a mixture of concern and admiration. “No problem. You okay now?” His voice was gentle, but there was an undertone of worry that you couldn’t miss.

You gave a quiet sigh, nodding. “Yeah… I think I just needed some air.”

He stayed still for a second, waiting, as you unbuckled your seatbelt and started to gather your things. The quiet moment lingered before you stepped out of the car and made your way to the front door of your building. Rafe stayed in the car, just watching you, his gaze never leaving you. His chest felt tight again, but this time, it was different. It wasn’t fear of something going wrong—it was the simple concern of wanting you to be safe, wanting you to be okay.

As you reached the door, you fumbled through your bag, checking the contents. You muttered to yourself, growing more frantic as you checked again. A few seconds later, you pulled your head up in alarm.

“Shit…” you whispered under your breath.

Rafe’s gaze sharpened as he watched you struggle, a sense of urgency in your movements. He opened the car door slightly, ready to ask if something was wrong.

“Everything okay?” he called, his voice laced with concern.

You turned back, your eyes wide with panic. “I—I can’t find my keys.”

His brow furrowed. “You sure you didn’t leave them in the car?”

You shook your head, feeling your heart pound in your chest. “I’m sure I brought them with me. I always check for them before leaving... but I can’t find them. Oh god…” Your voice trailed off as the panic began to rise again, a wave of dread settling in your stomach.

Rafe’s gaze softened. He could see the distress building in you, and for a split second, he wished he could take that weight off your shoulders.

“Hey,” he called, getting out of the car now, taking a few steps toward you. “Maybe you dropped them inside, or—”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice shaking. “I’m sure I had them when we left the event… Oh my god…” You froze, your hands hovering over your bag again as realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “I dropped them,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Rafe, but he heard you clearly. “When I… when I freaked out. I must’ve dropped them at the event. Damn it.”

You turned around, scanning the ground as if your keys might miraculously appear, but you knew deep down they were long gone. You quickly pivoted and rushed back toward Rafe’s car, your anxiety spiking with each step. Rafe watched you for a moment before following closely behind, his own mind racing as he processed the situation.

“Shit,” you muttered again, coming up to his car and looking inside like you could find your keys by some miracle. Rafe sat there, waiting for you to catch your breath before he spoke. “I’m sorry… I know this is a mess. I just—everything’s falling apart tonight. I didn’t expect any of this, and now… now I’ve lost my damn keys. I don’t know what to do.”

Rafe could see the exhaustion on your face, the mental and emotional toll of the evening weighing heavily on you. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel more alone in this.

“It’s alright,” he said, trying to calm you, his voice soft but firm. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.” He thought for a second, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. “I can call a locksmith, or we can check inside the building for a spare key. Maybe someone can help.”

You were already shaking your head, your eyes glossy with unshed tears. “I… I don’t want to bother anyone. And I don’t want to stay out here all night.”

Rafe saw how visibly shaken you were, how overwhelmed you seemed by everything. The night had gone completely sideways for you, and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone, stuck in your apartment, still frazzled.

“You could stay at my place tonight…”

chapter eight

[flickering-chandelier]

The Best Thing That’s Ever Been Mine

Pairing: CEO Azriel x Coworker Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been dating for a while, effectively keeping it a secret at work, despite their frequent make-out sessions. When a different coworker asks Reader out, Azriel gets very, very jealous.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: Az gets a little possessive, some very brief smutty moments

Word Count: 3.7k

Anne, the secretary, called your name, poking her head into your office. “The boss wants to see you.”

“Thank you,” you smiled faintly at her, smoothing down your skirt under your desk, schooling your face into a neutral mask even as heat rushed through your body.

Tapping your foot, you waited impatiently in the empty elevator, going to the top level where you made your way to the CEO’S office. 

You knocked on the door and he glanced up at you briefly before his eyes landed back on the stack of papers on his desk. “Come in,” he said.

Once you stepped over the threshold, his eyes darkened as they met yours again. “Close the door,” he said gruffly, authority dripping from every part of him. 

Slowly, you closed the door behind you. 

Eyes locked on yours, he stood up, rolling up his shirtsleeves as he stalked toward you, revealing his muscled forearms. 

He stopped when he was toe to toe with you, his body towering over yours. He reached behind you and locked the door.

In the next moment, his hands were on your face and he was kissing you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you clung to him.

His lips trailed down your neck and you moaned softly, unable to hold it in. He covered your mouth with his hand, smirking into your skin. “If you can't stay quiet, I'll have to send you back to your desk.”

You nipped at his hand with your teeth and he laughed quietly, spinning you around and backing you up toward his desk, his mouth back on yours.

When your ass collided with his massive wooden desk, he lifted you up and sat you on top of it, spreading your legs wide and stepping between them, all without breaking the kiss.

His hand ran up from your calf to your thigh, under your skirt. 

“Az,” you warned, breathlessly.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his hand pausing its ascent, his thumb drawing soothing circles on your skin.

A knock on the door made you both freeze. He sighed into your neck in frustration before silently, expertly helping you to your feet, smoothing your clothes, your hair. 

By the time Azriel casually said, “Come in,” you were seated on opposite sides of his desk, looking for all the world like two coworkers who were having a professional meeting.

Azriel nodded to you politely as the intruder entered his office: your cue to leave.

You stopped in the bathroom before returning to your desk, dabbing cool water on your face, on the back of your neck. 

A year ago, when you had started working here, you remembered meeting your CEO and thinking that he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. You had spent months daydreaming about him, longing for him to notice you, for him to linger by your desk or look at you during a meeting.

Then one day, it happened. At the end of the day, you were getting on the elevator on your way out and he was in it. Alone. 

You stood side by side, your heart pounding. Standing so close to him, the realization hit you how massive his body was compared to yours, and you couldn’t help but glance at him as you made the descent down to ground level.

He cleared his throat, and your eyes whipped to him. “You look nice today,” he said. 

Immediately, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you said, feeling breathless. 

When the side of his mouth turned up into a half smile, you simultaneously realized that you had never seen him smile before, and you would do just about anything to make him do it again.

His eyes bore into yours, alight with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place. 

Quietly, he said your name, taking a step closer to you. 

Azriel must have seen the lust written all over your face because he jabbed the hold elevator button with his thumb, not taking his eyes from yours as the elevator lurched to a halt. 

Another moment later and you were being pushed against the wall, his hands on your neck, in your hair, his lips devouring yours. 

“Is this okay?” he said against your lips, and you could only moan, could only wrap your arms tighter around him. 

That night, you ended up at his massive penthouse, tangled up in his sheets. 

You had been together ever since.

It was thrilling, if you were honest with yourself. Azriel had thought that it would be best to keep your relationship a secret at work. You had readily agreed, not wanting to deal with the potential backlash of people finding out you were sleeping with the boss.

The first time the two of you made out at work after the elevator had been a bit of an accident. You really did need to go to his office to talk to him about something. It was confidential, so you had closed his door behind you.

…And as soon as the business was over, the pleasure started. He had smirked at you, pulled you into his lap, and kissed you senseless.

After that, it became difficult to avoid. Any time the two of you found yourselves alone together, one of you was pulling the other into a kiss.

The fact that you had never been caught only spurred you on further. You did admit that sometimes it got a little reckless. 

But that was all part of the fun.

Unfortunately, you didn't see Azriel for the rest of the day, though you did get a lot of work done because of it.

That evening, you were peering into your near empty refrigerator with a frown, when you got a text.

Azriel: Come over.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. 

You: What's the magic word?

Azriel: Pretty please come over.

You: Much better. 😘

Azriel: So you're coming?

You: I haven't eaten yet…

Azriel: I'll order whatever you want.

You: !!! I'm leaving now.

Mere moments after you knocked on Azriel's front door, he had you pinned against the wall with his body, his length prominent against your ass, his lips on your neck.

“Bitter about how things ended at work, huh?” You asked as his hand traveled up your bare thigh.

He growled into your skin. “You've been on my mind all day.”

“Oh yeah? What have you been thinking about doing?” You teased, pressing your ass further against him.

Immediately he flipped your dress up and pulled your panties down. You dug your fingernails into the wall as he unbuckled his belt.

You moaned, leaning your head back as he entered you in one fluid movement. 

His hips slapped against you over and over again as he moved in quick, deep thrusts. You were both so riled up that it didn't take long for you to finish.

Once you were cleaned up and your clothes were back in place, he kissed you gently before taking your hand and leading you to his massive, unbelievably expensive kitchen that he never used.

Spread on the counter were take out bags from three of your favorite restaurants. 

You looked at him pointedly and he shrugged, smiling faintly. “I didn't know what you wanted, so I got your top three.”

Laughing, you stood up on your tiptoes to kiss him again before getting two plates from the cabinet and opening one of the bags. “You could've just waited to order until I got here,” you said, handing him a plate.

“I couldn't let you go hungry after I ravished you,” he smirked.

You carried your plate to the table, and he sat across from you, falling into companionable silence as you ate.

After dinner, you retired to his bedroom. He had an entire closet of clothes for you there that he had slowly built up after you started dating. You tried to resist at first, but you had to admit it was convenient.

You changed into pajamas and cuddled with him as the two of you fought over the remote. 

“Sweetheart, we watched your show last time,” he said, one hand on your chest to hold you back while he raised the other far above his head, changing the show you had put on to a documentary.

You groaned, flopping back against the massive mattress dramatically. “Az, you pick the most boring shows in the world. Can't you pick an interesting documentary about murder or something?”

He raised an eyebrow at you and you seized your opportunity, pouncing on him and wrestling the remote from his hand.

You rolled to the opposite side of the bed, cradling the remote in your hands and giggling while you changed it back to your favorite reality TV show.

Azriel let out a resigned sigh as he pulled your body back into his. “Alright, fine. You win.”

Grinning, you kissed him and settled into his embrace for the rest of the night.

The next morning, you woke up with Azriel's absurdly early alarm and swore.

“Hmm?” He asked sleepily, kissing you before he even opened his eyes.

“I didn't mean to sleep over on a weekday.”

“Why does it matter?” He mumbled into your skin.

“People can't see us showing up at work together.”

“I can call a car for you,” he said. “Or we can risk it and try to be sneaky,” he smiled, kissing a line down your neck.

“Don't you think we've been risking it enough?” You asked.

Azriel settled back against the pillows again. “I don't know. With you I feel pretty invincible,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and he laughed. “It's up to you,” he said, kissing you one more time before padding to the adjacent bathroom. 

You followed him, stopping in front of your side of the double sinks, pulling out your toothbrush in tandem with him. He faced you as you both brushed your teeth, gently brushing stray hair out of your face. You shook your head, smiling lightly, though you did love this side of him, the one that could make any menial task feel romantic. 

He kissed your temple after you had both brushed your teeth, and you took out the makeup and hair products from the drawer he had set aside for you as he stepped into the shower. 

By the time Azriel was out of the shower, you were still finishing up your makeup. He stood behind you, smiling softly, watching your reflection as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on the top of your head, a fluffy towel wrapped around his waist. Even after all this time, he still gave you butterflies, still set your body on fire when he touched you. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly.

You couldn’t help but smile. “You’re unbelievably hot,” you said, your voice teasing but your eyes alight. 

He barked out a laugh before kissing the top of your head and sauntering back into his bedroom. “Good to know you still think so.”

Shortly after, your makeup was done and your hair looked presentable, and you joined him in the bedroom, where he was pulling his pants on, still shirtless. 

“It was my first thought, you know,” you said, arms crossed, eyes intently watching his body, every ripple of the muscles in his forearms, his biceps, his stomach. 

“What was?” he asked, looking up at you as he slung his shirt on, buttoning it up. 

“The first time I saw you. All I could think was that you’re the hottest man I’d ever seen.”

His smile turned slightly predatory as he stalked closer to you, the top few buttons of his shirt left undone. “I know. I could see it in your eyes,” he murmured, bringing his hands to your waist, his lips drifting closer and closer to yours. 

“You could?” you breathed.

“Well, I saw some kind of spark,” he said, slowly moving his mouth to your ear before playfully taking your earlobe in between his teeth. “I was hoping it was for me.”

Your breath came out in a soft exhale, your heart rate picking up speed. “We need to leave soon,” you said, trying to focus.

“Yes, we do,” he murmured, before kissing you softly, cradling your face in both his hands. 

It took every bit of effort you had to gently push him away. “Get dressed,” you said breathlessly. 

He laughed, reaching up and buttoning his shirt as you pulled out a skirt and blouse from “your” closet. “As you wish, my love,” he said, his eyes shining with amusement.

You couldn’t get enough of him that morning. So, you decided to take your chances and ride with him to work. His sportscar’s windows were tinted so extremely that nobody could possibly see in, and Azriel made it a point to always be the first one in the office, so you hoped that there wouldn’t be anyone around to see you get out of the luxury vehicle. 

His hand rested casually on your thigh as he drove, and your eyes were glued to him. With his designer sunglasses, his pristine suit, his expensive watch, he looked like he should be on the cover of some magazine for rich men, making them all drool with envy. 

Sure enough, the parking lot was completely empty when Azriel pulled into his reserved parking space. 

He smirked at you, squeezing your thigh. “I told you it would be fine, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to give you a long, slow kiss. 

You let yourself sink into the kiss, into the feeling of him, for a few beautiful moments. 

After a bit, you went inside hand in hand, thankful for the empty hallways. In the elevator, he pulled your body to his, threading his fingers through your hair, kissing you until the doors opened. 

He walked you to your office and lingered in your doorway, still holding onto your hand, giving you one more kiss before he went up to his office, shooting you a bright smile over his shoulder.

Through most of the work day, you didn’t see Azriel and kept to yourself in your office.

That is, until Spencer showed up, knocking on your door with a smirk before entering your office, leaving the door ajar. It was toward the end of the day, and most of the office had cleared out by then. 

Spencer wasn't your favorite person in the office. He was a cocky asshole, to put it blatantly. Nobody really liked to work with him, but especially not the women. His ego was bigger than anyone's, though he had done absolutely nothing to deserve it.

“Hey,” he said with a crooked smile, leaning casually against the door frame.

“Hi, Spencer,” you said, trying to keep your voice mild. “What's up?”

“I was thinking that you and I should get dinner sometime,” he said, shooting you a cocky grin that you had seen him use on other women in this very office.

You raised your eyebrow, saying cautiously, “Like a date?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “If you want to call it that.”

Fighting the urge to scowl, you said politely, “No, thanks. I have a boyfriend.”

He looked annoyed, like he wanted to say more, but thought better of it. He blundered through a somewhat awkward goodbye before he left you alone in your office again.

As soon as Spencer's footsteps faded, Azriel was in your office, his eyes on fire.

“What,” you said, surprised, “Did you hear all that?”

He growled, kicking your door shut before he was taking your hand and pulling you upright, kissing you hard, his tongue and hands unyielding.

You gasped in surprise as he lifted you in his arms and set you on your desk, still kissing you relentlessly, his hands wandering over your thighs, your cheeks.

“Az,” you breathed, but he cut you off with another searing kiss.

“You're mine,” he said against your mouth.

“Of course I am,” you said, leaning back slightly, trying to suck air into your lungs.

“Say it,” he ground out before kissing you senseless again.

“I'm yours,” you gasped, clutching to him. 

He pulled back finally, holding your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes. “And I'm yours,” he said.

“Az,” you said gently, running your thumb on his bicep in what you hoped were soothing movements. “I love you. You know that.”

“I know,” he said, breathing heavily. “I just-- that pissed me off. That guy really fucking pisses me off.”

You laughed, despite yourself. “Me too.”

He sighed, kissing you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. 

“I'm sorry I got -- you know,” he winced slightly.

“You don't have to worry about anybody else,” you said. “You're the one I want.”

“I know,” he murmured, kissing you softly. 

Spencer must have really gotten to Azriel, because he took you out to an extremely expensive restaurant that night, and he didn’t take his eyes off you for a moment while you were there.

You couldn’t help but grimace as you looked at the menu, some of the prices for an entree were more than you’d spend on food in a week. 

“Get whatever you want,” Azriel said, reading your thoughts.

“Az, these prices are ridiculous.”

He smiled faintly. “Get whatever you want,” he repeated, his eyes softening. 

You sighed, and when the waiter came by, you did indeed get what you wanted. 

As soon as you were alone, he reached for your hand across the table. “I am sorry about earlier.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “I just don’t get why you got so jealous. Spencer’s a sleaze.”

Azriel laughed lightly. “You’re the most important person in my life,” he said, his eyes sparkling under the dim lights. “I love you. I don’t like that an asshole like him thinks about you.”

You ran your thumb along his hand absentmindedly. “I’m sure he’s already moved onto thinking about somebody else.”

His eyes darkened slightly. “He better have.”

For the rest of the evening, his hands were on you, like he didn’t want to let you go. 

The following day, there was a mandatory meeting that Azriel was leading, one that both you and Spencer would be required to attend. 

You didn’t think much of it. You and Azriel had been in countless meetings together since you had started dating, and the two of you had always been perfectly capable of remaining professional throughout them, never raising any suspicion that you knew of.

Azriel, as always, was the first one in the boardroom, sitting at the head of the table with his laptop open, a stack of notes next to it.

He smirked and winked at you as you walked in and sat down a few seats away from him. 

“How are you today?” you asked pleasantly, as if you hadn’t woken up in his bed and already snuck up to his office once that morning. 

“I’m doing well, how are you?” he said in his boss-making-small-talk-with-his-employees voice.  

You nodded as a few of your coworkers wandered in, laptops under their arms. “Oh, you know. Can’t complain.”

Azriel turned his attention to the people settling in around the room, getting the pleasantries out of the way. This was a part of the job that he hated, you knew. He would much prefer to stay silent unless absolutely necessary, but he also wanted his employees to like him, to trust him.

Everything was pretty business as usual, until Spencer walked in and sat right next to you. Even from where you were sitting, you noticed Azriel’s muscles tense. There were half a dozen other open seats that Spencer could have sat in, and you were sure that Azriel was thinking the very same thing.

Spencer smirked at you as he opened his laptop. “How was your night?”

“Fine?” You said, using all of your focus to keep your eyes from flitting over to Azriel.

“Just fine?” Spencer asked, clearly amused. “Hmm. Sounds like it could've been better if you hadn't turned me down.”

Before you could form a response, Azriel cleared his throat, starting the meeting abruptly, his eyes practically burning a hole into the side of Spencer's head. 

Azriel, who was usually so good at concealing his emotions, at wearing his face in a mask of indifference, was visibly ruffled. There was a slight edge to his voice as he updated us, his eyes narrowing slightly every time they drifted over Spencer.

You wanted to reach out to him, to try and bring him back down to earth, but you obviously couldn't do that.

When he turned the focus over to someone else who started updating everyone about recent developments, his eyes landed on you and finally softened a bit. You smiled faintly at him and he seemed to relax.

It was an effort to focus on the meeting, to not stare across the table at Azriel.

Later, when Azriel said you all were free to go, you jumped up and exited quickly so you wouldn't have to deal with any more idiotic comments from Spencer.

You hid out for a little bit before you deemed it safe to go up to Azriel's office. You knocked lightly on the open door and he looked up from his desk and nodded toward the door behind you to close it.

You closed the door quietly behind you and went to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning into you. 

“It would be wrong to fire him, right?”

You laughed, leaning in to kiss him. “Yes.”

He sighed. “Right.”

Gently, you took his face in your hands. “Ignore him.”

Frowning, he said, “When he's making comments like that to you?”

“Yes,” you said, kissing him softly. “I can handle myself if he says something like that again.” 

He nodded. “I know you can.”

For a few moments, he just gazed at you. “What is it?” You asked.

Smiling, he said, “It's just… I love you.”

Kissing him sweetly, you said, “I love you, too.”

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @melmo567 @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms @evergreenlark @mariamay02 @yourqueenlilith @sillysillygoose444 @headacheseason @halibshepherd @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats

(sorry y'all I just realized that I didn't actually tag most of you because I'm Stupid so that's why you're being tagged now lol)

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Saved by a Stranger

word count: 849

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: When a relentless stranger refuses to leave Y/n alone at a bar, she impulsively turns to a charming stranger ______________________________________________________________

The loud hum of chatter and clinking glasses filled the dimly lit bar, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the unwelcome voice of the man who had been relentlessly hitting on you for the past half hour. No matter how many times you politely told him you weren’t interested, he refused to take the hint, inching closer every time.

You needed a way out.

Your eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for an escape. That’s when you spotted him. A guy, just stepping inside, looking relaxed and—thank God—friendly. He was tall, with dark, tousled hair and a smile that seemed approachable. You didn’t have time to hesitate. You needed help, and he was your best shot.

Without overthinking it, you pushed through the crowd and made a beeline for him. As you reached him, you slid your arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug, leaning up to whisper, "Please, just play along. Pretend you're my boyfriend. That guy won't leave me alone."

The stranger tensed for a second, clearly surprised, but his arm quickly wrapped around your shoulders in response, pulling you in protectively. He didn't say a word, but the warmth of his presence and the calm way he held you told you that he understood.

Just then, the guy who had been bothering you approached, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the stranger’s arm around you. "Who's this?" he sneered, clearly not thrilled about the interruption.

Your heart raced, hoping the guy you'd chosen would go along with it. Without missing a beat, the man next to you gave a cool, confident smile. "Her boyfriend," he said firmly, tightening his grip on your shoulder. His tone was calm but there was a warning in his voice. "Is there a problem?"

The guy’s eyes flicked from you to the man holding you, suspicion creeping into his expression. "Wait… are you Lando Norris?" he asked, recognition dawning on his face.

Lando Norris? You blinked, confused. The name sounded familiar, but in the heat of the moment, you didn’t have time to place it. You kept your face as neutral as possible, still tucked against the stranger’s side, while your mind raced. Who the hell is Lando Norris?

"Yeah, I am," he replied easily, but his tone was dismissive, clearly not wanting to entertain the guy any longer. "Now, I suggest you leave my girlfriend alone."

The guy, now visibly flustered, mumbled something under his breath and backed off, casting one last glance at you before finally slinking away into the crowd. You breathed a sigh of relief, your body relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever.

Once the coast was clear, you quickly let go of the stranger and stepped back, feeling a little embarrassed now that the adrenaline was fading. "Thank you so much," you said, your voice shaky but sincere. "I didn’t know what else to do."

He grinned down at you, looking more amused than anything. "No problem. Glad I could help."

Now that you had a second to really look at him, your brain caught up with what the other guy had said. Lando Norris. The name finally clicked. Lando Norris, as in the F1 driver?

Your eyes widened in realization, but you tried to play it cool. "Wait, you’re actually Lando Norris?" you asked, incredulous.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Guilty as charged."

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Of all the people to pick for this plan, you had unknowingly clung to a famous racing driver. "Oh my God, I had no idea… I didn’t even recognize you. I’m so sorry," you stammered.

He waved it off, still smiling. "No need to apologize. I’m just glad I could help you out of that situation."

You were about to thank him again and make a quick exit before things got any more awkward, but Lando didn’t seem in a hurry to let you go. "Wait," he said, his smile softening as he looked at you. "Do you want to grab a drink? I mean, now that your stalker is gone."

You blinked, caught off guard by the invitation. "Oh, um…" You weren’t sure if you were ready to stick around after everything that had just happened, but there was something about the way he was looking at you—genuine, kind—that made you pause.

"Don’t feel pressured," he added quickly, sensing your hesitation. "I just think you're kinda cute, and, well, I’d like to get to know you. But no worries if you’ve had enough excitement for one night."

Your heart fluttered a little at his words. He was charming. And you had to admit, the idea of spending more time with him wasn’t exactly unappealing. After a moment, you found yourself nodding.

"Okay, one drink," you said, smiling a little shyly.

Lando’s face lit up, and he motioned for the bartender. "One drink it is," he said.

As the bartender slid the drinks across the counter, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, tonight wasn’t turning out so bad after all.

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬

order 85 | scenarios | Riddle, Leona, Azul | Gender Neutral

❀ NOTE: Can you guess what my inspo is? (In English class my nose randomly started dripping blood)

Small description of blood (nosebleeds specifically)

➺ Riddle Rosehearts

It happened at the worst time, during a small tea party with Riddle. With Trey serving tea and all these little pastries you felt like nothing could go wrong.

You felt something come out of your nose and you sniffle, just dismissing it until it doesn’t stop.

“MC…” Riddle gives you a harsh look.

It was sorta embarrassing when Riddle gives you that look. “Sorry sorry maybe something triggered my allergies!” You cover your nose and then you look down at your hand, you understand why he was staring.

Riddle rushes over to you with a hand towel and presses it against your nose while he leans you forward.

“Does it hurt? Are you okay? What did you do??” He continuously asked questions one after another.

Even after you insist you’re fine and nothing in particular caused it, he’s adamant on keeping an eye on you.

“I think you need first aid…” He says while staring at you from the other side of the table.

“Riddle I’m fine—“

“I can’t let you leave, maybe you need a check up.”

༻ Leona Kingscholar

You were talking to him, you weren’t there to talk to him because you wanted to but you just owed Ruggie a favor and he asked you to get Leona and bring him back at Savannaclaw.

He was laying on the floor looking the other way while you stared down at him. “Look, Ruggie really needs you.”

“He can wait.” He grumbled.

“He said right now. Seriously he sounded really concerned when he sent me.” You tried to reason with him.

You went from politely asking, getting angry, whining, then to just pleading. Throughout the entire time he didn’t look at you once.

In the middle of your sentence you sneezed, you felt something drip out of your nose and you quickly covered your nose with your hand.

“Bless you herbivor…” he trailed off and turned his body towards you.

“Sorry this is kinda gross.” You said while covering your nose more.

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s alright this will go away.” But it just kept going, with his napkin you had no idea what to do.

He stared at you trying to clean your hand up and also your nose until he had enough. He mumbled under his breath before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“I’m only doing this because I don’t like the smell of blood. Let’s go to the infirmary.” Though when he said that, you couldn’t see the look of concern on his face.

⊱ Azul Ashengrotto

He was locked up in his office as per usual but you had some business to deal with. You had a temporary deal where to work for Mostro Lounge for money just for a week. Despite being a temporary employee you had the same expectations.

“Azul, please…” You bowed deeply to him. “Just let me go home early.”

“I don’t see why. It’s only been 3 hours and you have 2 more. Why not just finish off your shift for today.” He replied back with a displeased look.

“Because I have homework! I need those hours for studying.” You argued. He simply rolled his eyes and returned back to his paperwork.

“Very well, if you leave though you are terminated and won’t receive any compensation for the hours you’ve worked this week.” He said calmly with a smug look on his face.

You were about to grab him and shake him around. Until you sneezed, you covered your sneeze with your arm and held it there, feeling something was wrong.

“Your sleeve, that’s not sanitary for customers. You should get changed.” He grabbed a tissue and held it out to you. You removed your arm away from your face and stayed silent.

He almost yelled, key word almost, and stood up rushing over to you. “I don’t think this is normal for humans?! There’s so much blood…”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to get the uniform dirty.”

“I don’t care about that.” He abruptly said, “You need first aid.”

Even when you protested and guided you into his seat and pulled out the first aid kit.

[wheneverfeasible]

Omegaverse AU where Steve presents as an alpha just like his father always wanted, just like everyone expects, just like he was supposed to. He exclusively dates betas, scoffing and saying omegas weren’t good enough for him. He said they were too needy, too annoying, too pathetic. He was an alpha.

He hates it.

The truth is that Steve always wanted to be an omega, always wanted to soft and taken care of, wanted to be pupped up, wanted to avoid the stupid knotheads that he was forced to surround himself with, forced to pretend to be. He never dated an omega because he wants to be one and wants desperately for another alpha to take him as their own.

Enter Eddie, an alpha unlike any other. He scorns alphas like Steve and Tommy and Billy and all the other knotheads who act like they’re so much better than anyone else just because of their secondary gender. He rants on top of cafeteria tables about it, has ever since he presented and actually had the other alphas try to talk to him at first as if he was one of them.

No fucking thank you.

Steve is…not enamored, but curious about the super senior. Nancy broke up with him, he and Tommy are sort of on the outs though still barely friends, and Billy has a one-sided rivalry for the crown Steve currently wore, not that Steve truly cared about it.

Blah blah blah, Steve propositions Eddie after watching him for a while, realizing that Eddie might just be the sort of alpha who would fuck Steve and let him pretend to be an omega for a little while, meanwhile Eddie thinks King Steve wants to start shit with him like a knotheaded alpha and is wary and lightly mocking at first, until he realizes what Steve wants.

Steve and Eddie become fuckbuddies, nothing more, where Steve gets to role play as an omega and have Eddie dominate him, who seems to know that Steve wants to pretend to be cared for rather than playing the slut role he’s been doing as an alpha, and Steve actually breaks down in tears the first time Eddie calls him “good boy” and “good omega” though they both pretend he didn’t.

And you see, bitching isn’t really well known yet. It’s not really a thing that’s spoken about amongst polite society. So neither of them clock it when, as their feelings for each other grow, Steve becomes a little more emotional, a little more irrational in regards to Eddie’s attention, and they use scent blockers and neutralizers all the time to keep their affairs secret, so they don’t notice Steve’s scent changing, or the fact that he’s starting to become more than just artificially wet, or his knot doesn’t really pop like it used to because they both steadfastly had ignored it for so long to play the role right.

And it’s just not known. It’s not something that’s really spoken about, so they’d never think about it.

So no, they don’t notice anything until it’s too late, until it happens, and Steve is suddenly thrown into a spontaneous heat after an intense basketball game or something, the final stages of his transition. There was too much sweating, too much testosterone, that the blockers and neutralizers don’t really cut it anymore.

Billy makes the winning shot as the heat hits, making Steve’s legs collapse under him as slick coats his drawers and shorts, dripping down his thighs. All alpha heads suddenly towards him as his new true scent bursts out, surprise on all their faces, even hunger on some.

Billy and Tommy both take a step towards him but are forced to stop by a growl that reverberates through Steve as if it were his own as the familiar scent hits him of blockers and tobacco and weed and leather and that stupid cheap shampoo/conditioner/body wash 3-in-1 that Eddie uses as strong arms wrap around him and dark hair cascades around him.

Because he’s there. His alpha. He’s always there, hiding in the corner or under bleachers or somewhere where Steve can’t see him and he’s always there because this stupid thing between them has become so much more than either of them ever expected and he’s so protective of his omega because Steve is his omega even when he was an alpha because he was always an omega even when he wasn’t biologically.

It isn’t ideal. It far from fucking ideal, but Eddie whisks Steve away in his arms, whispering those words of praise that used to only belong in their role play, but Steve is burning up and he can’t wait can’t wait can’t wait can’t wait can’twaitcan’twaitcan’tfuckingwait—

And Eddie pulls him into classroom, locks and bars the door with desks and chairs and whatever else, and then he’s there he’s there he’stherehe’stherehe’sthere.

Eddie wants to bite, wants to mark, wants to claim, but he knows now isn’t the time so all he does is help Steve through it while he’s all but delirious from the sudden heat rewriting him completely.

Afterwards, they will talk. They will confess. They will admit. They will acknowledge that they were his alpha, his omega, and had been for longer than either of them realized. They will slink to Eddie’s car, go to Eddie’s trailer, will wash off all scents artificial and other until the them, finally just them and they will find the truth in each other. They will find a love that thrived against all odds. A love that beat fate itself.

Eddie does eventually bite him, and Steve completes it with his own, and eventually Steve gets his and his alpha’s pups like he always wanted and he can bask in the knowledge that he was exactly where he was always meant to be, with an alpha that loves and cherishes him exactly as he is, with a pack both of his own pups and the pups he all but adopted as their babysitter and real friends he gathered along the way he never thought he would be lucky enough to have.

It’s not easy at first. Of course it’s not. Something practically unheard of happened in a small conservative town like Hawkins. There were bigots and hateful people galore, and at times it even tested Steve and Eddie, but they always survived and always came out on the other side hand-in-hand and triumphant in their growing love.

They know that the best things in life are worth fighting for. And they vowed to never stop fighting. For themselves, for each other, and for everyone and everything they hold dear.

And they have fantastic sex along the way.

[koiiiji]

since nobody asked anything in comment section in THIS post i decided to came up with something by myself. now i know you little rogues not reading author notes🤨

Nightly Rituals

LOOKISM & WINDBREAKER BOYS WHILE YOU DOING YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE BEFORE BED

Gun

Park Jung Gun likes your presence in his apartments, it’s always little bit more warmer and cozy with you. Especially he likes time before bed, and both of you small routines. well, he could call his routine small - just stealing some incomprehensible bottles from you, he doesn’t bother his head to read it, as long as it seems to smooth his skin he use it! also, maybe reading some book or answering to forgotten messages while he waiting for you from the shower - that’s his usual routine before bed.

he could hear the water in shower stop flowing, you wrapped yourself in a towel and slipped out of the bathroom. picking and putting on your pajama the inescapable process has been started. Jung Gun learned your skincare routine perfectly - you always start with your face adding toner, letting it dry while you adding extra products on your hair, then you using millions of bottles - moisturizers, essence, serums, creams on your face, then switching to your body, and finally drying your hair and final step - adding that tasty smelling oil on your hair and boom! you are ready for… bed… “Hun, admit it honestly, you really enjoy all this stuff and not getting tired every time?” he said, getting comfortable and pulling you towards him “It’s one of the ways of meditation you know, Gun?” you murmur softly into his chest

Ma Taesoo

Taesoo enjoys 100% of time when you staying in his apartments. he honestly asked you few times to move in with him, but you politely rejected this idea (i headcanon that Taesoo live in stereotypical bachelor designed apartment… imagine bathroom with no place to put all your bottles? and rooms with cold/neutral lights? brrr, my horror honestly)

and here he are - sprawled out in bed, with his hands behind his head and leaning on the headboard, watching you. in turn, you occupied the table in his room, laying out your makeup bag, hair dryer and some other little things there, and now you were fussily rushing from the bedroom to the bathroom to wash your hands, looking in the mirror with this terrible cold-white lighting in the bathroom. Taesoo chuckled softly, when he saw how you add another cream on your body - specifically on your thighs, saying with his husky voice “Chill woman, enough marinating yourself in all that jojoba creams, im not gonna eat you alive, while you sleep” he grinned at you and pulled you into your shared bed. “Maybe not gonna eat, but you know sweet” he said hugging you from behind, burrowing his nose into your neck “You smell so good and nice that i might change my mind.”

Vinny

it was nice to came to Vinny in apartments that Juwon give to him, honestly better than his previous home. the soft glow of bedside lamps cast a warm ambience across the room, painting shadows that danced along the walls. Vinny lounged in bed, his attention divided between a phone in his hands and the anticipation of your return. you finally took your time after preparing for final exams, allowing yourself to indulge in the luxury of self-care, a small act of kindness to soothe both body and soul. you slowly going through your skincare routine, gently massaging essence into your cheeks and admiring yourself in mirror.

Vinny shifted against the pillows, his gaze drifting to the doorway as he eagerly awaited your return. the soft shuffle of footsteps drew his attention, and his heart skipped a beat as you appeared in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of the moon and city lights outside the window. as you settled beside him, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle against your skin. "Hey," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "I've missed you." you leaned into his touch, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you. "I missed you too," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. in that moment, as you curled up together beneath the covers, everything seems right in the world, every problem just disappeared.

Wooin

he always like to violate and invade your personal space. not that you were against it, like now, when he flatly refused to wait for you in bed while you completed your six-step skincare routine and chose to join you. he insisted that he wanted that black mask be put on his skin, while you muttered that he should clean his skin first and then add serum and only after put that mask on. "Babe, why so many unnecessary steps, you know that this mask won't make big changes anyway, right?" he whine like a child who tired of shopping for groceries, when he only agreed to came because his mum promised to buy him some chips. "Because it's the whole thing about skincare, hun!!! You doing it not because of effect, but for the process!! Trust the process you know??!" you said turning to him with annoyed face and that funny crab hair band that Wooin bought for you last time he went to shopping center. he said it looked cool and reminded him of you when you blushing.

after the last five minutes of him hovering around you like an annoying fly, whining about how he wanted a mask too, you finally gave up. going to the refrigerator and deftly pulling out a black bubble mask, you went into the room. and Wooin looked out of the bathroom in bewilderment - where did you go if he was in the other room? as you returning to bathroom, you made him sit on the side of the tub and pulled the same hairband over his head, only green in the shape of a toad, “They didn’t have anything with snakes, so i thought another amphibian would be a good idea too.” you said pulling his hair up and putting that most wanted black bubble mask on his face.

༘⋆🌷🫧💭 ⋆˙

⊹ xo - xo ⊹

author’s note ; okay now serious topic, empty blogs, pls update at least something in your blogs - age, some info like “here for fics/reblogs/etc/“ or at least some pfp, otherwise i will recognize you as bot blogs and will block you, thank u!

[streetlamp-amber]

bad time to be claustrophobic

bruce wayne x gn!reader

word count: 2k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: claustrophobia, panic attack NOTES: reader is gender neutral but it is mentioned they wear high heels

It had been two weeks since you started working for Wayne Enterprises and you were finally getting the hang of the job. At first, you felt like some sort of imposter, to be part of the famous company that overlooked the city and felt almost out of reach from every normal Gothamite. You had worked hard to get to where you were now and you deserved the stability this job brought to your life, as your roommate never failed to remind you every time you voiced out your doubts in the last weeks.

Your boss had needed you to bring some documents up to the top floor, where the CEO’s office was, and it was as you waited for an elevator to bring you down that you finally met Bruce Wayne. Of course you knew who he was – who lives in Gotham and doesn't know who Bruce Wayne is? – and you also knew of the playboy reputation he had that the gossip magazines could never get tired of. Although you had never really been interested in him before, one quick glance of the eye up and down his six feet two inches tall body was enough to determine that the media failed to describe how truly mesmerising Bruce Wayne was.

The two of you shared a brief eye contact when he came to a stop next to you in front of the elevator doors. He sent you a polite, tight lipped smile with a shy nod of his head as a form of greeting and you replicated his actions before turning your head forward again, hoping Mr. Wayne hadn’t noticed the beginning of a blush on your cheeks. You were no better than anyone after all, few could resist the natural charm that emanated from him.

The ding! of the elevator broke the silence floating in the air and Mr. Wayne, ever the gentleman, motioned with his right hand for you to step in first. He pressed the button for one of the basement floors as he entered before turning to you.

“Which floor?” He asked, and the sound of his voice caught you by surprise for a second.

“Oh! Um, sixteen,” you answered in what you hoped was a nonchalant way but was probably leaning more towards timid.

Mr. Wayne pressed on the button for your floor and the doors closed, the only noise that could be heard was the faint music of Mozart’s Horn Concerto no. 4 in E-Flat Major playing through the elevator speakers.

You watched with an anxious eye the floor numbers go down as you fiddled with the rings on your fingers, trying all your might to keep your hands down instead of divulging your embarrassing habit of biting off the skin around your nails to Bruce Wayne upon your first meeting. You hated elevators, or any kind of small closed space really, but your claustrophobia was just something you had learned (and still were learning) to live with. You usually avoided elevators, but Wayne Tower had more than thirty floors and you simply were not going to climb up all of those stairs in high heels for a bunch of documents. You could survive a minute long ride in an elevator, what’s the worst that could happen?

Well, the worst that could happen, happened.

The elevator was plunged into darkness as it shook to a stop, making you and Mr. Wayne almost lose your balance. It didn’t take more than five seconds for the lights to turn back on but the elevator wasn’t moving.

“No,” you whispered to yourself when you realised what was happening.

Mr. Wayne didn’t hear you, preoccupied with trying to get in contact with someone on his phone.

“Lucius, tell me what happened,” he spoke in an urgent tone, fearing that he was trapped in an elevator while Gotham needed his alter ego.

You were too busy trying to focus on keeping your breathing at a steady rhythm to listen to what the man on your left was saying. Everything suddenly felt hot and as you pulled on your white dress shirt in quick movements to air your torso, you started to feel like the walls were closing in on you.

“City workers were cutting a dead branch off a tree and it fell on the power lines,” Mr. Wayne explained as he closed his phone and put it back in the pocket of his suit, his eyes yet to see the state you were in. “Apparently there was some problem with the elevator when the generator turned on but a team is already wor–”

Bruce didn’t finish his sentence when he finally noticed that you weren’t listening to a single word he was saying. “Are you okay?” He asked, taking one small step closer to you.

“Yes,” you murmured, trying to sound as normal as possible. How embarrassing was it that the first time you meet the Bruce Wayne, you end up having a panic attack in front of him because of some ridiculous phobia that involves elevators.

“You’re not okay, you’re shaking,” he pointed out the obvious.

“‘S nothing,” you dismissed, clutching your shaking hands to your chest. You had your head hanging down and your eyes closed, unable to see the concerned look on Mr. Wayne’s face.

“Is there any way I can help?”

If your mind wasn't in such a frenzy, you would've heard the almost pleading tone in his voice.

“Not really,” you answered and your breathing quickened.

“Okay, okay,” he passed a hand through his hair as he tried to think about what to do. You were clearly in a state of panic and there was nothing he could do stuck in the elevator. He had to try to distract you while you waited for the team to fix the elevator.

You reached with your right hand to support yourself against the wall, the numbness in your legs making it hard for you to stand upright. Mr. Wayne was at your side in a second, holding your arms to keep you from falling.

“Let’s, let’s sit down, alright?” He suggested and you nodded your head.

He lowered the two of you to the floor and once you were sat up against the wall, he moved to sit in front of you, trying to catch your gaze.

“Hey, hey, there’s a team working on fixing the elevator as we speak, we’ll be out of here soon,” he tried to reassure you but you still wouldn’t meet his eyes. He observed the way your chest kept rising up and down rapidly and clocked that he needed to help you calm down.

“Okay, there’s this thing my… Alfred taught me when I was young. Just cross your arms over your chest and put your hands on your shoulders, can you do that?” He calmly asked you.

You nodded your head and did as he told you.

“Now I’m gonna put my hands on your knees, is that alright?”

You nodded your head once again and his large hands covered your bent knees over your charcoal dress pants.

“Alright, I’m gonna tap my hands to a rhythm, you’ll do the same with your shoulders and try to breathe along with the rhythm. Understood?”

Your distressed, teary eyes finally met his reassuring ones and in this moment, through all of the panic and the fear clouding your head, you were able to see that Bruce Wayne was a caring man under the playboy persona.

After you shook your head ‘yes’, Mr. Wayne started tapping his hands to a relaxed, steady rhythm like he told you he would. It took a minute for you to ground yourself in his eyes that never left yours and you followed his movements, tapping your hands on your shoulders to his tempo. He made a show of exaggerating the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, for you to eventually fall in step with.

“You know, when I was a kid, I was playing in the garden with my friend and I fell in an old well,” he started telling you when a few minutes passed and your breathing had calmed down a little. The both of you were still continuing tapping a steady rhythm on your knees and shoulders. “I was stuck down there with a broken arm and then a colony of bats flew out of the darkness. Been scared of those creatures ever since.”

“Is that why you’re not Batman’s biggest fan?” You asked in a small voice and Bruce faintly smiled both at the secret he was keeping from all of Gotham and because he was finally hearing your voice not in a panicked state. He always made sure to make his displeasure with the caped crusader known to deter the press from making a connection between the two.

“Amongst other reasons,” he answered, one corner of his lip curling up to show you his tiny crooked grin.

The two of you stared at each other and it surprised you how easy it was to feel safe and comfortable while looking in Bruce Wayne’s eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure to meet you before,” he spoke up after a short moment of comfortable silence.

“I assure you I would’ve made a better first impression in any other circumstance,” you quickly said, eyes going wide like saucers when it sunk in that you almost had a panic attack the first time you met Bruce Wayne.

“I can tell you, this isn't even in the top twenty of the worst first impressions I’ve had,” Mr. Wayne tried to reassure you with a joke. The shy smile on your lips indicated he succeeded. “I’m Bruce, by the way.”

“I know,” you said, a little more at ease. You told him your name, to which he couldn’t help but compliment.

“How long have you been working here? I don't remember ever seeing you, and I try to say hi to all my employees at least once a month,” he asked you.

“A little more than two weeks,” you answered. “I’m in the PR department, specifically overseeing the funding of your charities.”

“You have the most important job in the company then,” Bruce grinned.

“I wouldn’t know about that,” you rolled your eyes and this time there was no way he didn’t catch the beginning of the blush on your cheeks. You could only wish your face was still flushed from your almost panic attack so it wasn’t too noticeable.

The doors of the elevator were finally pulled open, Bruce and you turning your heads in that direction at the new noise. You sighed in relief that you could finally escape this cage of nightmare and both Mr. Wayne and the maintenance guy helped you slide out of the elevator, which only offered a thirty centimetres tall opening since it got stuck before it could reach the floor below.

Once Bruce had also gotten out, he ignored the assistant who had been assigned by her superior to catch him up on what he missed while being stuck in the elevator to instead talk to you.

“You know, if you want to take the rest of the day off, it’ll be no problem,” he told you, lowering his voice so only the two of you could hear. “I’ll vouch for you, make sure you don’t get in any trouble.”

“That’s very kind of you Mr. Wayne–”

“Bruce,” he interrupted you, though his tone was warm and friendly. “Please, call me Bruce.”

“Thank you, Bruce, I really appreciate the concern.” You were still a little unsettled by the events and when you usually would push through whatever sickness or weakness to make it to work, this time you didn’t fight off the chance to relax and recover.

“Gotta make sure my most important employee is well rested and of sound mind to do the job,” he smiled at you and you smiled back at him. “I have to go back to my duties, but I’ll be seeing you around.” Bruce said goodbye to you and you waved at him until his back was turned on you.

The first thing you did when you got back home to your apartment was search for a good pair of affordable running shoes to help you climb the stairs of Wayne Tower comfortably until you were ready to get in an elevator again.

And ever since that day, Bruce made sure that the elevators were inspected once every week.

[foreingersgod]

ngl i be thinking about sleepy sex with kate like we’re both in bed tired but horny so we have to do smthn about it 😞

Needy . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

synopsis: request ^

A/N: THIS IS POORLY WRITTEN SMUT, MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

also someone asked for this a while ago in a request (kate martin x black!reader smut) but i think i lost it because i can’t find it! so i tired to keep this pretty neutral so that it will still work, but if you want me to write something different, please send the request in again!

my masterlist

“oh my god, kate” you all but moaned, attempting to whisper. her breathe was staggered, lips on your shoulder, tongue darting out to run along your skin.

“i know, baby” she sighed assuringly “i know”

she was leaned against the headboard, hair free from her signature ponytail and cascading down her shoulders. kate was completely bare of her clothes, having lazily discarded them when she arrived in your shared room for the night. her long legs were spread to make room for you, extending out onto the sheets. you however, were up against kate’s chest, legs hooked over her thighs as you pressed your cunt against hers.

you had already been asleep when kate got home, utterly exhausted from work. your boss was nagging you about paperwork, clients kept calling to complain, and it seemed that everything was going wrong that day. kate, too, was struggling. she wasn’t playing well the entirety of practice and coach was on her ass about it. she was overwhelmed and tried just the same. both of you were ready to call it quits for the day, just wanting to curl up in bed next to one another.

but when she laid down next to you, feeling you roll over and tuck yourself into her body, she couldn’t help the feeling that overcame her. when your leg draped over her waist, hips pressing into hers, she felt the familiar throbbing between her thighs. she needed you bad. she hated to wake you up when you were this tired, but it felt like she was going to explode.

so she shook you awake with a polite shove of your shoulder. she pressed sweet kisses to your cheek as your eyes fluttered open. you groggily asked what she was doing, wanting to fall back asleep, but you knew exactly what the answer was when you heard her voice. a mix between a whine and a groan escaped her throat.

i need you so bad…please

and that’s what led you to this moment, moaning quietly as you rolled your hips into kate’s. every bit of clothing was discarded on the floor below you in a state of urgency as you climbed atop of kate’s body. her strong hands guided you into postion, fitting you snuggly as you lowered yourself onto her.

she whimpered, relieved to feel the feeling of your pussy on hers. unable to handle the pleasure, she desperately grabbed at your tits, pinching your nipples gently to coax you to go faster. you complied, snapping your hips quicker and harder. exhaustion still held a tight grasp on your body which caused you to rest your head in the crook of kate’s neck. kate mirrored your tiredness, hands now guiding your hips to alleviate some of the work.

“that’s it,” kate moaned again, her voice was strained as her fingers dug deeper into your skin “fuckin’ me so good, baby”

you could feel the pleasure building up inside of you. head falling back in pleasure, your hands came up to rest on kate’s shoulder to steady yourself.

“kate kate kate” you mewled. your eyes squeezed shut, mouth falling open “m’gonna cum-oh my god-i’m cumming i’m cumming”

she could feel you, soaking wet and pulsing beneath her. it was enough to make her bite her lip, suppressing the most pornographic moan she could possibly make. her legs tightened around yours as your humping reached its peak. she watched as your chest heaved as you panted, sweat dripping down your cleavage slowly.

“oh kate-” you gulped, knowing your high was approaching. she understood immediately, one of her hands coming to your messy folds to find your clit. her finger rubbed small circles on your bud, encouraging your orgasm as you continued to languidly move your hips.

“jesus christ…you’re doing so good, gonna make me cum” she was going ballistic, eyes about to roll to the back of her head in complete bliss “don’t stop, don’t fucking stop”

and you didn’t-you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.

finally, she felt your body jerk against hers. your breathing became broken and you let out a satisfied, yet quiet cry as you reached your release. the action alone, paired with your rhythmic thrusts, was enough to push kate to her own orgasm. wetness pooled between you, dripping onto your thighs and sheets until you finally slowed your pace. kate was still riding out her high when you collapsed into her, arms enveloping around her neck.

“i love you” you muttered into her ear, finding the last bit of energy you had.

“love you more” she turned to place a kiss against the side of your head.

you could have laid there for hours if you could. having kate totally bare for you, mumbling sweet nothing into your ear. something you knew to be truly euphoric. it was a perfect moment and you wouldn’t trade that for anything, even the best sleep of your life.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A/N: alright i don’t think i’m very good at writing smut, so apologies for how shitty this turned out

*no taglist (except for my bb @girlokwhatever) for this one because i’m too lazy to check account ages lol