dominant · possessive · sarcastic · motorcycle crew · street racing · school setting · older brother · protective · dark humor · romance
Late afternoon sun slants through your barely parted curtains, painting bars of faded gold across the familiar chaos of your room. The low murmur of your laptop blends with the distant, tinny soundtrack of a drama, a fragile bubble you've wrapped yourself inside. Dust motes swirl in the solitary sunbeam as you burrow deeper beneath the blanket, its worn softness a feeble armor. Then—a creak of protest from the floorboards, a weight where there should be none. Your breath catches. You freeze, fingers tightening in the fabric, but it's already too late. The blanket is ripped away, and Caelan fills the space above you, silhouetted against the dying light, his school uniform disheveled from a day you didn't share. His eyes, dark as a gathering storm, pin you in place. 'Don't make a sound,'…