#on another note this class is giving me anxiety

[scrawlingwithstyle]

So for my Personal Finance class, we had to figure out if "Pokémon Trainer" is a viable career option (using someone else's research, thank god), and it turns out that you'd be working at a 76% deficit.

Meaning unless Ash has a ton of money squirreled away at the beginning of his journey, by the time he makes it to the Indigo League Championships, he's already 1,174,550 Pokémon dollars (about $4578.43 USD) in debt.

So it's not really a career, and more like a rich kid's hobby, since you'd need about 1,500,000 Pokémon dollars (at minimum) to make it through 15 months of training, and you only earn about 325,450 if you win literally every battle you enter.

[gracieheartspedro]

Dagger In The Heart

pairing: ellie williams x afab! reader

post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.

word count: 6.1k words

warnings: MINORS DNI!!! 18+ ty!!! abusive relationship mentioned, reader's bf is a cheating asshole, calls her names, makes comments about weight, talks of cheating, some lowkey cheating from reader, sharing clothes with ellie, ellie is 18+ but her age not specified, talks of hardly eating food at dinner, reader is a bit confused with her sexuality and wants to explore (which is fine!!! and normal!!!), wlw relations, pussy eating, fingering, tribbing, tattoos? lots of tattoos, dirty talk, reader being a bit desperate, getting caught (but not really), mentions of a strap, men being drunk and stupid. that's it. I think.

description: when you get the chance to meet your asshole boyfriend’s family, you take a liking to his sister, ellie. when a conversation about her tattoos turns into talks of what you’re really into, you can’t help but want to explore it more.

author’s note: hi girls, gays, and theys! I am so happy to be bringing this request to you. it was an anon request from july and I just suck at getting my life together to actually write. but here we are. FYI, I don't condone this behavior or cheating. anyway I hope you enjoy. I will also be putting this on my ao3 soon, so if you see it there, don't worry, it's just me (;

“You gotta chill, babe. Your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”

He was never very good with comforting you, so you bite back your snappy comment and just fake a smile.  

You had been dating your boyfriend Matt for almost a year. You two met in your college biology class and really bonded over your love for folk music and Greek food. He had kind eyes, mousy brown hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen. 

At first, you thought this was the best relationship you ever could ask for, but Matt grew distant after four months together. You didn’t know why, but his temper had shown itself one too many times. He fought with you constantly. He was quite jealous. You could never be seen with another boy without accusations of cheating. But every time you two argued, he always came back with an apology and a bouquet of flowers. You could not help but believe you could fix him. 

It had been 10 months, you had to brave meeting his family. Unlike you, his family lived two towns over and he visited them quite often. He was close to his younger brother and mom, so he made a point to see them as much as he could. 

He brought up the idea of meeting them back around the holidays, but you were planning to board a flight and visit your family across the country. He understood but was pretty disappointed you could not try his mom’s infamous pumpkin pie.

You had no excuse when summer came. So here you are, standing with him at his childhood home’s front door as he scrambled to find his keys. 

You were sporting something more dressed up than your normal. Matt loved this one black dress on you, so you decided to wear that with some cute flats. You were sorely regretting the shoe decision, the pointed-toed shoes squeezed your big toe and the arch was not high enough to be comfortable. 

He unlocks the deadbolt and the red door jolts open. You are instantly met with the scent of BBQ and cornbread. His childhood is cozy and lived in. The entrance is lined with shoes, everything from high heels to sneakers that have run through countless puddles. It was a sigh of relief, they were a no-shoes in the house family. You kick off your uncomfortable shoes, holding on to Matt’s shoulder for balance. 

His mom is the first one to enter the hallway to meet you two at the door. She is quite beautiful, her hair darker than Matt’s. She was shorter, wearing a nice blouse and jeans. She welcomes you both with a bear hug and cheers of excitement. When she pulls you out of the embrace, she gets a better look at you. 

“You are more beautiful in person, pictures do not do your gorgeous smile justice,” She remarks, squeezing your hands. 

You shake your head, trying your best not to let out that you are beyond nervous about this entire encounter. “You are too kind, thank you so much for hosting us.”

“Come meet the crew!”

Matt eyes meet yours, noticing how tense you are. You had hoped for him to hold your hand and guide you through this experience, but instead he just nudges you with his shoulder. He brushes by, heading after his mom. 

The hallway opens into a kitchen and living room, which is littered with random strangers who, in some way, resemble your boyfriend. 

His brother, Collin, stands up first from the barstools, racing over to your boyfriend to dap him up. When he glances your way, you just smile and introduce yourself. He extends his hand to shake yours, which you gladly accept. 

His dad is next to stand up from a recliner in the living room. He makes your acquaintance quickly, telling you he’s so glad to finally meet you after months of hearing all about you. 

When he moves away from in front of you, she comes into focus. You had not even noticed her sitting on the couch across the room. 

She’s slender, her dark locks framing her chiseled jawline. She looks like Matt, but more like a person who belongs in a Renaissance painting. Her eyes are a more dimensional brown. She has freckles scattered around her pale complexion, which only added her beauty. 

You do not realize you are gawking until Matt nudges you. “This is my sister, Ellie.”

You blink again, bringing your focus back to the situation. She extends her hand, and that’s when you take notice to her tattoo-filled arms. Her tank top raises a bit and you catch a glance of her midriff, exposing more tattoos littering her abdomen. 

“Nice to meet ya. Heard plenty about you.”

You swallow, taking her hand and shaking it. “I hope good things.”

“No, I only tell her the worst things about you.”

Everyone giggles except you and Ellie. Luckily it is filling the room with enough noise to drown out your thoughts about your boyfriend’s beautiful sister. 

Ellie rolls her eyes before whispering, “Don’t worry, it’s only ever good things, sweet cheeks.”

-

Matt’s dad loves to talk and you can tell it annoys Ellie. You were seated outside on their patio set, drinking some homemade lemonade Matt’s mom was adamant you had. He was helping her with all the sides that were still yet to be made, so you took up Ellie’s offer to check out the backyard space. You did not expect Matt’s dad to come with you two and tell you all about the flower beds he curated. 

But you listened, smiling and nodding while sipping on your tart drink. 

He got occupied with grilling, so you and Ellie were left on the couch near a very used and abused firepit. 

You wait for her to say something. She was truly making you nervous, her eyes trailing you every so often. 

“So, you and Matt met in science class?”

You finally look back at her wandering eyes, “Yeah, he was my biology partner.”

“Gotcha,” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees. You do not know what comes over you, but you cannot physically pull your eyes away from her arms as they flex. “You good?”

“I like your tattoos,” You barely manage to say, “They are… hot.”

You want to jump into the unlit firepit for that one. 

No other adjective came to your horny mind? Really?

She giggles, enjoying watching you practically squirm under her gaze. “Thanks, dude. My ex girlfriend was a tattoo artist so I let her practice on me.”

You remember a moment about 5 months ago when Matt mentioned his sister being gay, but for some reason, you finally connect that duh it’s Ellie, you fucking idiot. 

You also remember some choice words he had about her. You remember cringing when he called her a slur and said she could not keep a girl to save her life. You held your tongue and refused to reply.

“That’s awesome,” You scoot closer to her, bridging more of the gap between you two on the couch, “Which one is your favorite?”

She smiles at your intrusion into her space and questions. You realize you two are almost sizing each other up, right in front of her family, your boyfriend’s family. They could easily peek outside of the kitchen windows and see you two eye fucking each other. She leans back, her eyes tracing all the tattoos on her arms. 

Then she laughs. A deep guttural laugh. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” She brings her front teeth down on her bottom lip before speaking up again, “It’s a tattoo I can’t show you.”

“Why not?”

She looks towards the window, checking on her brother and mom. Her expression changes when she turns back to you. 

“Because I’m not pulling my tits out in front of my family.”

Your pussy practically pulses when you hear her say it. What is wrong with you? You are dating her brother. What is wrong with you?!

“Your… boobs are tattooed?”

She nods slowly, bringing her one hand up to your bare exposed thigh, “Bet that shakes a sweet one like you to your core.”

The comment insinuates that you are an innocent little girl who knows nothing about the world. And sure Matt is your first real boyfriend. Sure he was the first person ever to eat you out because your high school crushes did not even know that was a thing. Sure you never have been sexually promiscuous. Sure you thought you were straight. 

Sure.

But something inside you was crawling its way out. This small interaction with your asshole boyfriend’s sister was enough to send you into a spiral. You never gave a girl a chance so how were you supposed to know you did not like it?

“What if your family wasn’t around?”

Ellie is gobsmacked by your comment, her jaw practically hitting the floor. You can tell she realized she was flying too close to the sun. She pulls her hand away from your leg. 

“You are my brother’s girlfriend. I am not going to be the one to corrupt you,” She states, scooting over a bit away from you. Your cheeks get flushed, instantly feeling embarrassed for asking such a question. But the more you sat in silence, the more you realized that you really did not care. The feelings Ellie made you feel within the last 10 minutes were more exciting than any feeling Matt had given you in 10 months. 

You clear your throat, “Luckily for you, Ellie, you would not be the one to corrupt me. That has already been done.”

She looks at you quizzically, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, I may look sweet and innocent,” You creep in close to her, “But I am really a freak.”

Now you are just lying. 

Before she can utter a word, Matt’s brother comes out to let you two know dinner was done. You hope and pray he didn’t take notice to how close you two were. Or how Ellie stared at your ass as you walked away. 

-

You sit between Matt and Ellie at the table. 

Every so often during the meal, you would place your hand on Matt’s leg. He would push you away, rolling his eyes when you glared at him. When the conversation came around to him, he would find a way to demean you and then continue blabbing about school or his internship. 

You answered questions from his mom and dad, but you were sorely uninterested in them. But then the conversation comes around as to whether you two would be staying the night tonight. At this point, Matt had already had four beers, and you knew he probably would not want you driving his new Mustang. 

“You can take Matt’s bed and he can sleep on the couch,” His mom suggests, indicating that you two would not be sleeping together. You understood that they were a bit more traditional, but you were not expecting to sleep in your boyfriend's childhood bed without him. 

“That’s a great idea, Ma. We can stay, right?”

You look at the plate of practically untouched food in front of you. You just nod, finally saying, “As long as you give me some comfy sweatpants to wear.”

“Mine are all back at my apartment, but I’m sure Ellie has something you could borrow. Plus, you probably wouldn’t fit my sweatpants.”

Matt constantly made comments about your figure and how he could not share clothes with you. He refused to share his clothes with you, stating that you would not be able to squeeze into them and you also “left your scent on everything”. 

God, he made you feel terrible about yourself. 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you think about wearing Ellie’s clothes, though, and you completely drown out the separate conversation happening around the table. You feel a hand creep up your thigh, but it's not coming from the side you expect.

Her hand is so soft and delicate as it creeps up your leg. You cannot help but glance at her direction, catching her smiling over at you. 

“Don’t worry, I got something you can wear.”

-

Dinner finishes up and Matt expresses that he wants to go for a round of drinks with his high school friends and brother at the local tavern down the street. He never asks if you want to go, telling you “It would just be high school friends that you don’t know, anyway.”

He tells you that his Mom and Ellie would get you all set up. He gives you a pat on the back, and heads to the door, right behind his brother. You watch him leave and almost breathe a sigh of relief. 

When you turn back, you see his Mom already going upstairs. 

“I’m gonna get your bed all set up and then I’m probably going to retire to my bed, too.” She states, slowly making her way up the wooden staircase. 

You wanted to scream because this only meant one thing. You were alone with Ellie. 

You follow her up the stairs and look around the hallway. She heads to the right and begins pointing at the only room with the light on. You didn’t even know that Ellie was upstairs.

“Have Ellie get you something to wear, I’ll make up your bed!”

The door swings open and Ellie stands there, having changed into her own bedtime clothes. And for fucks sake, she’s not making this easy for you. 

She is sporting a tight white tank, no bra, and shorts that ride up to the very tops of her thighs. Her legs are tattooed as well, but not as much as her arms. There isn’t a touch of her freckled skin that isn’t marked with art. You can almost see through her shirt, making your mouth go dry. 

“Let’s see what you fit into!”

She lets you into her space. Her room is decorated with posters of space and heavy metal bands. From the looks of one corner of her room, she’s an artist. She has different art styles, anywhere from charcoal to watercolors, littering a desk and her walls. It’s messy, but it’s not dirty. It smells like incense and clean laundry. 

She walks over to her dresser, opens up the top drawer. Everything is neatly folded, which kind of surprises you. 

“I have some sweatpants, shorts, boxers-“

“Sweatpants are fine,” You retort, not wanting her to list off anything else, “Do you have any t-shirts I could wear?”

“Well of course I do, sweet cheeks. What do you want, loose or tight?”

You stare at her dumbfounded. You know what she’s doing. And you hate yourself for liking it so much. 

She pulls out a pair of navy blue sweatpants, still waiting for your reply. 

“Loose.”

She starts to dig through another drawer when Matt’s mom pops her head in. 

“It’s all set up for you, sweetheart. If you need anything, you let one of us know. I’m going to downstairs if you need me.”

You smile, thankfully. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Williams.”

“If she needs anything, I’m sure I could help her find her way,” Ellie says, absentmindedly. She pulls out a white t-shirt from her drawer and tosses it at you. 

“Goodnight, girls!”

And then you two are alone. Ellie slowly saunters to her door and shuts it. 

“You can get dressed here. Just make sure what I gave you fits.”

You silently turned your back to her, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “Can you unzip me?”

You are not even thinking straight. You are so caught up with being alone with the girl you have had weird sexual tension with. She walks over to you confidently, before grabbing the top of your black dress, which lands right at the middle of your back. She pulls down the zipper, ensuring it reaches the very end of its track. 

The hairs on your back stand up in her wake. You breathe deeply, before shimmying the dress off your shoulders. You were wearing a bra, so you were just going to keep it on. You step out of the dress, leaving you in just underwear and the push-up bra Matt gifted you not too long ago. 

You don’t turn to her, but she just comes around to your front, nonchalantly. 

“Jesus Christ,” Ellie stammers, before plopping on her bed. You shakingly step into the sweatpants she gifted you to wear, unsure how to respond. You rack your brain trying to gain the confidence you had before dinner, but your mouth is dry and your brain is dazed from seeing Ellie in her pajamas. 

You finally manage to glance up at her hungry eyes, smiling softly. 

“I never knew I would be jealous of my brother.”

You swallow, “Jealous?”

“Yeah, he gets to have someone like you every night and I can’t even find someone worth hanging out with around here. Never thought a nerd like him would win over a woman like you.”

You are standing in the sweatpants and your bra, not able to digest her words completely. A woman like you?

“Your brother is sweet. And we don’t have sex every night.”

“Just sweet?” She steps a bit closer to you, “And I said nothing about sex, darling, I said he gets to have you.”

She is looking at you like you are her prey. You almost fell to your knees and begged her to put you out of your misery, but you resisted. Instead, she just stands up, trying to catch your nervous glances. 

“H-he, uh, does what he can, when we d-do, yanno.”

Her fingers trace up your arm, her eyes trailing as she does it. You bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for her response. She clicks her tongue a couple of times, shaking her head. 

“I am sure he tries,” She sputters, standing back from you, “Do you even really like him?”

You furrow your eyebrows, suddenly snapping out of the situation you are currently in. You reflect for a moment.

Matt was an asshole but you sometimes enjoyed his company. He made you laugh on occasion. But deep down, you knew that he wasn’t made for you. He lacked emotional intelligence and made sure to put you down any chance he got. You had inklings he was talking to other girls and his friends were probably the most intolerable people on your college campus. And then there was that one time when the inklings were just. 

The realization that you maybe didn’t like him made you sick. You wasted so much time and now you have met his family.

“When he’s not mean to me. When he isn’t cheating on me.” You admit quietly, almost too humiliated to say it. 

She crooks her neck, “He cheated on you?”

You hate talking about it, it made you feel as though you were never good enough. He made it out that it was your fault because you would not have sex with him when you had the flu. “It was just some hand stuff, baby,” he said to you. 

“Just once. I forgave him because he told me he loved me.”

“People who love you don’t hurt you like that,” Ellie says without a beat. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Is he mean to you all the time?”

You think back to the last nice thing he said to you. Your ass looks fat in that dress. And even that could be seen as a bad thing. You shake your head, trying to find a good way to paint her brother. From the looks of it, she doesn’t really like him all that much anyway. 

“Most of the time.”

“So, what I’m hearing is my brother is an asshole that doesn’t know how to treat a woman both in life and in the bedroom. Is that what you’re saying?”

You stand there pondering her question, coming up with nothing. She was right, but were you ready to admit that?

So you shrug.

Ellie stands with her arms crossed now, chewing on the inside of her lip. She’s contemplating something, her eyes falling to the floor for a moment. 

“Listen, I am not just saying this because it has taken everything in my power to resist sinking my teeth into you,” The first half of the sentence put your heart in your throat. Nonetheless, she carries on, “But I have an inkling that you don’t like my brother at all. I think you like girls and you’ve never had the chance to explore that. You want to say you are a freak, but you really don’t know what that even means.”

“Ellie, I d-”

“You need to break up with my brother,” She states plainly, “And then, after all is said and done, I can show what it looks like to be taken care of.”

You agree, sadly. You do need to break up with Matt. And on the basis that you believe that he’s probably at the bar hanging out with old friends, probably with other girls, probably flirting with those other girls. You decide you are not going to wait anymore. He cheated on you once, what’s stopping him now? Ellie was right about everything, and while that revelation changes your entire perspective on life, you settle on jumping head first. 

“Show me now.”

You watch all the blood drain from her face. She fumbles with her inked hands, waiting for you to say you didn’t mean it. That moment never comes. 

“Are you sure about that?”

Swallowing hard, you just nod. You do not even realize what you are getting yourself into, but the undeniable chemistry cannot be ignored anymore. You don’t even want to waste another thought on Matt. You know if you think too hard about it, you’ll talk yourself back into staying with him.

Ellie’s face gets closer to yours and your lips connect seamlessly. She wastes no time, bringing her hands down to your waist to pull you in. You wrap your arms around her neck while fireworks erupt in your chest.

Her lips taste like mint and a dab pen your college roommate made you hit a couple of months ago. She was borderline intoxicating. 

She backs you up towards her bed, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress. You plop down, disconnecting from her lips. 

Through hooded lids, she asks you, “Do you want to see my favorite tattoo, then?”

Your breathing hitches as she does not even wait for a response, she just pulls her tank top over her head.

Each piece is connected somehow. Her stomach piece is what appeared to be a dragon flying up towards her under-boob area. It was extremely detailed and took up a large half of her upper stomach. Around her collarbones were very intricate lines that almost rain over her body like veins. They spread down her chest onto her boobs, where around her nipples were two matching daggers appearing to go through her areola. 

You smirk at the idea that these are her favorite tattoos. The cheeky ones around her tits.

“Holy shit, Ellie.”

You reach out and touch her tits, ever so delicately. You use your finger to outline the daggers, smiling to yourself. 

Being this close sends a pulsating feeling down to your pussy. You have never felt a lightning strike quite like it before. 

She’s letting you feel her up, but when you change your tune and start pinching at her nipples, she throws her head back with a groan.

“Hmm, you should try putting one in your mouth,” She remarks, hoping to God you would be eager enough to do so. She was very in tune with you because you leaned forward taking her right nipple into your mouth. She’s guiding you around every turn, whispering how good you are doing already. 

You release her with a pop and sit back. You reach around to release your own, but she stops you. 

“Lemme do it,” She says mounting your lap. You place your hand on her hips while she runs her fingertips across your back. She unhooks your black bra, letting your tits spill out. 

You feel the tops of your hands stand up as soon as her hands begin to knead your tits. You glance down at her movements, watching your sensitive nipples perk up due to the attention she’s giving them. 

“Mmm, you like that, sweetness?”

You just groan, your lips needing to do more than just talk. You pull Ellie’s ajar mouth down to yours, diving your tongue between her teeth. You never had such a hunger for anyone else. No guy ever made you feel this way. 

She nudges your shoulders, having you fall onto your back. Her lips move away from yours and start to trail down your neck and chest. When her wet mouth touches your tits, you cannot control the sounds that leave your throat. She bites down on your supple skin, which makes you groan more. 

“You gotta quiet down a bit. Don’t need anyone hearing us.”

You try to manage your noises, but as soon as she starts to kiss down to the hem of the sweatpants she loaned you, you know you’ll never be quiet like she needs you to be. She tugs at the waistband, taking your underwear with it. 

You are now butt naked on her bed. And god, the air is hitting the wetness between your legs is titillating. 

“Listen, sweets,” She whispers, palming your thighs with her tattooed hands, “I’m going to make you cum on my tongue first. Then I am going to fuck this pussy so good, you won’t know any other cock but the fake one in my side table. You hear me?”

Your stomach is in knots, but you know that this is what you really want. “Okay, Ellie. Please do whatever you think I will like.”

“You’re gonna like it all, baby girl. And if it gets a bit dodgy, you just let me know and we can stop.”

You shake your head positively as she smiles between your legs. She starts by kissing up your thighs, keeping you completely in a trance. When her mouth finds your slit, she licks a long stripe. She takes her time, working her tongue in between your pussy lips. The wet sound that happens when she shakes her head is pornographic. When she finds your clit, she encases it and starts to suck lightly. You scream out in pleasure, never feeling this sensitive before. It usually took a whole lot of Matt lazily fingering you and fucking you to illicit such a response. Ellie is building up an orgasm within you in record time. 

She uses her fingers to open up your pussy a little bit more. You instinctively want to close your legs, but her left arm has your legs locked on her bed. Her middle and index fingers curl inside you with every motion forward. 

Her eyes are closed and you are laser-focused on her expressions. She’s putting her all into making you feel good and it’s relieving to watch someone put so much care into it. 

You notice the small little freckles that scatter across her nose get lighter as they reach her cheekbones. She’s so fucking pretty. 

“Jesus, you’re doin’ so good sweetheart. You feel so good.”

“Oh my god, Ellie, please don’t stop,” Your voice is strained, begging her to continue fucking you. She chuckles and begins to pick up speed. Your mind is cluttered, unsure how you can feel this good. 

When the peripherals of your vision begin to get white, you know it’s over. She latches her lips back onto your clit, humming to drag the orgasm out of you. When it happens, your deep guttural moans get muffled by her palm.

You think your heart is going to stop beating. 

Once you begin to feel your muscles relax, Ellie is crawling on top of you, hovering over your chest, her lips kissing your collarbones.

“You did such a great job, baby girl,” She dotes, her short hair falling across her forehead, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”

Your heart swells up a thousand sizes. You never got called that before, let alone felt sexy. But Ellie had this aura to her. She made you feel sexy, desirable, wanted. 

Your hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “Please show me more.”

She nods, before she leans back on her knees. She balances on one leg before shoving her pajama shorts down. The ink travels to every part of her body and you wonder if the ones around her hips hurt. The snakes that travel up her thighs, have their heads resting right on her hip bones. 

You sit up and observe her movements, she’s fumbling with something in her drawer. She seemingly cannot find what she’s looking for and slams it shut. 

“How about this,” She says with a huff, “I want you to see what it feels like to grind that pretty little pussy on mine anyway. The strap will have to wait.”

You feel the blood drain from your face, “The strap?”

She giggles at your not-so-faux innocence. “We will try that next time.”

You aren’t ready for her to grab onto your legs and move you like a rag doll around her bed. She rests her body horizontally from yours, her lower half lining up with yours. You were not sure how this worked, but you had heard of scissoring before. The technicality was lost on you. 

You sit up waiting for instruction, but Ellie is so hypnotized by your wet slit, she doesn’t even look at you. You watch her reach out and touch your dripping center and it sends an electric shock down your limbs. You throw your head back, hissing at the action. 

“God, that cunt is so pretty.”

You finally look back at her, wanting nothing more but to fuck her like she fucked you. So in return for her toying with you, you hastily reach out and touch her pussy. You are confused by what to do, but by her reaction, you know you did something right. 

“Tell me what we are doing,” You beg, closing your legs in closer to hers. She nods, watching your fingers pull apart her pussy lips. 

“Pull your cunt against mine and ride me like you’d ride Matt’s dick.”

You halt your movements, “Ride him?”

“You’ve never ridden him before?”

Your response was your silence. You had never explored much with him, simply because he was quick to get his nut before traversing to other territories. 

She helps you sit up, hover your cunt over hers. You can not lie, the sight of her sticky wet pussy was hot. She guides you down so your mound is on hers. She bites her lip as you practically drool watching your purely untouched body against her painted figure. 

“Now move your hips back,” Her hands are gripping onto your hips, showing you the way, “And forth.”

The friction is immediately overstimulating, but it feels like an itch you’ve never scratched. So fucking delicious. 

“Shit…” You groan at the response your body is giving you.

“Practice makes perfect, baby. Keep moving those hips.” 

You have never been on top, but it’s almost freeing to be in control of the movements. You weren’t sure what you should grip onto as you rubbed your pussy against hers, so you grip onto your own shoulders. Your hips gyrate, the slickness between your legs starts trailing down to Ellie’s navy blue sheets. 

“God, this pussy is so fucking perfect,” Ellie says through gritted teeth. She holds down your hips, somehow trying to get you closer to her.

“It’s yours.” You whine, letting the lust take over your speech. You had no clue what that meant for this situation, you just knew that Ellie knew how to fuck you and it was bliss. Your hands leave your shoulders and eventually find Ellie’s tits.

“This pussy is mine? The first cunt you fuck is the cunt you fuck forever?”

You want to laugh, but the bubble in your stomach is about to burst already with how fucked out of your mind you are. “If the cunt is yours, then yes. I want this forever.”

Ellie sucks on her two fingers before she reaches down, finding the very top of your cunt, and begins to press down on that sensitive little bud. The saliva only mixes with the messiness of your liquids. You squeeze her nipples in response. 

“Never going back to my stupid fuckin’ brother, hm? This pussy belongs to me.”

“Yes, Ellie, fuck!” 

She smiles at your quickening pace. She knows you’re reaching your breaking point, and she knows that she’s close herself. 

“Come for me, baby. Come all over my fuckin’ cunt.”

You jolt forward, your hips stilling over hers. You don’t know if you’ve felt a sensation quite like it. You had tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body felt like a volcano erupting. The curses leaving Ellie’s lips as she came from your orgasm only added to the high you felt. You knew words were leaving your mouth, but they were just jumbled together strings of sentences. 

“Jesus Christ…”

“It feels so good…”

“I want this pussy forever…”

You fall over next to Ellie, your legs still intertwined with hers. She was trying to catch her breath, her body still jittery from her high. 

“That was per-”

“Babe!!”

Your stomach drops to your ass when you hear Matt’s voice.

You jump up from Ellie’s bed, finding the closest clothes you can grab at. Ellie does the same, but takes her time throwing a tank top over her bed head. His footsteps are practically running up the steps. 

You are still wobbly on your legs, practically falling over trying to put on the pants she loaned you. You just keep saying “fuck” over and over again, knowing that you two will probably be caught. You just finished putting on a shirt when he barges into the room. 

He’s drunk. 

“What are you still doing in here?” He asks you in an accusatory slurred voice. Collin is close behind him, trying to shush him.

“Chill, dude. I was just showin’ her some of my art.” Ellie defends, plopping down on her bed. She’s trying to mask the fact that her bed is wet with your cum. 

While he blabs about how Ellie sucks at art, which he is very wrong about, you notice a red blotch on his shirt collar. You zero in on it because you fucking knew. 

“Matt, what’s on your neck?” You interrupt.

He stops his rant to look down at you. His eyes are bloodshot. He’s so gone that his mind can’t make up an excuse. 

“It’s from Sophie,” He blurts out, his lips getting ahead of his brain. Ellie pauses and the entire room goes dead silent. You had no idea what to say back to that. You had no clue who Sophie was. You honestly did not care, your relationship was already done in your head. You were just kind of shell-shocked that it happened exactly how your mind doctored it.  

You glance over at Ellie who is already looking at you. Collin clears his throat. 

“I think this a conversation for the morning,” Collin says, grabbing Matt’s arm to tug him out of the room. 

You nod, “Yeah, Collin, great idea. Why don’t you take Matt to bed? Tuck him in and give him a sweet kiss like Sophie did.”

Matt’s face turns bright red, the same thing it always did when he got mad at you. Before he could lash out at you, Collin drags him out of the room and into the hall. Before shutting the door behind him, he says, “I’m sorry.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “It’s fine. It’s not the first time. But it will be the last.”

When the door clicks shut, you hear Matt whisper yelling at Collin about how big of a bitch you are. How you didn’t deserve him. Yadda-yadda-yadda. 

Ellie just gawks at you. The tone of the room changed so drastically so quickly that you felt almost disconnected from reality. 

“You okay?” She asks innocently, her hand holding onto your shoulder. 

Your legs are still weak. “Yeah, I think I’ll need more practice though.”

She is confused, you can tell by the look on her face. “Huh?”

“I’ll need more practice riding you. And, hey, you didn’t get to use that fake dick on me, remember?”

-

taglist (for those who said they wanted this haha)

@cavillscurls @satellitespinner @mourningdovee @hockeyhughes @stonerzdaze420692 @00ops1e @sunflowerwinds @holilogram @whoucallingalesbian @aurelialuna

[ravenslvt]

☆ choso kamo x f!reader ☆

cw: smut! college au! virgin choso! kinda pervy choso! unprotected sex! mutual pining!

masterlist

busy thinking about your college classmate choso who has the biggest crush on you.

the pretty girl who sits next to him in his math lecture.

when you spoke to him for the first time asking for the notes from your class, he practically scrambled to get out his notebook for you to copy off of.

and when you asked for his number with a sweet smile on your pretty face (for homework! of course!) he got so nervous, going over the number over and over in his head praying he didn’t accidentally hit the wrong digit.

his breath hitches when his phone lights up a day or two later.

‘hey!! i’m so behind in math, wondering if you’d like to help me study later :)’

he blinked a couple times, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks or if you meant to text someone else. but all his worries dispersed when another text comes through.

‘this is choso, right?’

he has no idea how he ended up in your dorm room, sitting on your cute little bed with open textbooks surrounding you two.

you sigh, leaning your back against the headboard while stretching out your arms.

you were sure your brain was fried from all this mind numbing work.

“this is boring, why don’t we do something else.” your gaze falls on the dark haired boy in front of you, his eyes meeting your own. he gulped, an eyebrow quirked.

“like what?” he asks, sitting up.

you only just met him two months ago, so you didn't know a lot about the man.

you think for a second, lips pursing together as you drum your fingers along your thigh.

“you ever kiss a girl before, choso?” you ask, head tilting to the side as you watch for his reaction.

his eyes widen at your question.

“i-“ he opens his mouth to speak, nervous under your gaze.

you patiently wait for him to gather his thoughts, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“choso?” you softly ask. he didn’t even notice the way you were sitting closer to him, your thighs brushing against eachother.

he finally looks up at you, pink dusting on his cheeks.

“i-no, i haven’t.” he sheepishly admits, emberassed you would make fun of him or even kick him out of your room.

but instead you give him a shocked look.

“really? but you’re- i mean you’re hot.” you honestly say, making him chuckle. the anxiety built up in his body instantly relieving.

he knew he wasn’t ugly by any means, but your forwardness made his heart flutter. you always made him so nervous.

sure, he was pretty inexperienced, but he wasn’t innocent by any means. he’s watched a fair amount of porn, especially in his single dorm room at night.

he just spent most of his life watching over and taking care of his younger brothers. he was never really interested in finding a girlfriend. that was until he saw you on the first day of classes.

but the way you sat next to him on that first day, introducing yourself with a cute smile. you never left his mind since.

“could i- shit, can i-“ he stutters.

you giggle at his sudden shyness.

“you wanna kiss me, cho?” he shudders when you lean up by his ear to basically whisper to him.

“fuck, yes. so badly” all his shame flies out the window when your pretty little hand rests on his thigh.

his breath hitches when you crawl atop his lap, straddling him. fuck he was hoping you couldn’t feel how he instantly got hard from it.

you start slow, not wanting to overwhelm him. gently cupping his cheek with your hand, you lean in, slowly brushing your lips against his, testing the waters.

one of his hands go to tangle themself in your hair, while his other held your waist gently. practically forcing you closer to him.

your lips move together, slowly at first, but eventually getting more and more aggressive. almost needy.

when you give his mouth an experimental lick, his tongue fighting with yours, you unconsciously roll your hips into him, making him moan into the kiss.

you pulled back, embarrassed you could barely control yourself from a make out session.

“s-sorry.”

fuck you were cute when you’re flustered.

“don’t be sorry. it’s hot.” he smiles, holding you by the back of your neck to bring you back into another kiss. your hands rest on his chest.

with all the baggy clothes he wears, it's hard to tell what a good body he has.

his hands move to your hips, grinding you against his clothed cock.

you whine when your clothed clit rubs against him just right.

“please, can i taste you. wanna eat you out.” he begs, kissing down your jaw down to your neck.

“are you sure? you really don’t have to.” you say, his kisses never ceasing.

“been dreaming of eating your pussy, baby.” he murmurs against your neck, biting down in a few spots. he reluctantly pulls back, letting you lie comfortably against your pillow.

your heart races as you peel your bottoms off, leaving you in your cute little panties. he crawls between your thighs, groaning at the sight.

“did you know this was gonna happen?” he smirks at the sight of your lacy panties. you smile. of course you did

“lucky guess.” you shrug.

he smirks, eyes drawn to your damp panties. he experiments with a lick over the wet patch, eliciting a small gasp from you.

“don’t tease” you pout down at him, making him chuckle. he pulls your panties to the side, revealing your wet cunt.

a wave of nervousness washes over you when he just stares in awe. you thought maybe he was gonna back out.

“even prettier than i imagined” he sighs, immediately delving in, making your gasp turn into a soft moan.

your mind wanders for a moment at the thought of him imagining this before. your hands finding themselves reaching under your shirt to play with your tits as he goes down on you.

he tries his hardest to do to you what he’s seen in porn. goes from flicking his tongue over your sensitive clit, to sucking on it which made your thighs tighten around his head.

he knew he found your most sensitive spot when his tongue flicked over a certain area, making you buck your hips up into him.

your hands move to grip in his messy dark hair, unconsciously tugging as he eats you out like a mad man.

you can’t see the way he slowly grinds his hips into the mattress, his cock straining almost painfully through his sweatpants.

your mind is in a frenzy, body squirming trying to escape how good it felt, but also rutting your hips up into his mouth because you really didn’t want him to stop.

not that he even would, he's in heaven right now. eating the pussy of the girl he’s jerked off too at least several times at this point.

his hands grip at the bottom of your thighs, pulling you closer to his face as he prods his tongue into your tight hole, nose brushing against your clit. you moan, tugging at his hair for more and he groans at the harsh tug. he fucking loves it.

you were sure you were so close as he fucks you with his tongue. toes curling so hard you're scared you’re gonna get a cramp.

“choso, please don’t stop” you beg, grinding up into his unrelenting mouth.

he just hums into your cunt in acknowledgement, his movements never stopping as you coat his tongue.

your heels dig into his back, hands tugging at his dark locs, the vibration of his groan making you moan out his name as you cum on his mouth.

you were sure he was lying about being inexperienced with how hard he made you cum. but the way he stared at you like you were a fucking goddess made you think otherwise.

you whine when you realize he still hasn’t stopped lapping at your sensitive pussy. your hips jolt up in overstimulation, making him come back to earth and pulling away.

“sorry” he pants, wiping off his lower face with the sleeve of his hoodie, licking his lips.

“don’t be sorry” you giggle, pulling him up so he’s hovering over you, strong arms on either side of your head. kissing you again. your essence surrounding his tongue.

he grinds his clothed erection into you, making you feel a little bad for neglecting him.

you reach your hand down to graze over him, making him groan and buck into you.

you pat his arm, signalling for him to switch places with you. he nods, sitting against the headboard.

you crawl into his lap, straddling him so you’re face to face. you smile, admiring how pretty he is.

“off?” you ask, tugging at his nice oversized hoodie. he nods, you lean back to let him pull it off of his frame, throwing the hoodie somewhere on your floor.

you made a mental note to defiantly steal that later.

it is so fucked up this man hides this monster of a body behind all those baggy clothes.

you can’t help but stare at his defined chest, running a hand down his stomach and to his hard cock. he moans when you rub him over the fabric of his pants, the heat of your hand making him go lightheaded.

your thumbs hook in his waistband, tugging down his hips, he helps you, bringing them down to his ankles.

you watch the way his thick, pale cock sits so pretty standing up against his stomach, the tip raging and pink from all the teasing.

you reach down to run your thumb over his slit, making him shiver. you felt bad teasing, but his reactions were so adorable.

you kiss and suck marks down his neck, down to his defined chest that you just wanted to bite.

his eyes go down to your throbbing pussy, his thumb innocently pulls apart your folds, rubbing at your clit generously. you mewl against him, hand gripping tighter against his cock.

if just your hand felt this good, he was imagining how amazing your cunt is gonna feel.

he was embarrassingly close, but he didn’t wanna cum like this.

“please” he pants, pushing your hand away. you lean in to kiss his cheek.

“hmm?” you look at him, curiously.

“wanna fuck you so bad, pretty. please let me fuck you, you’re so perfect i-“ he begs. you shut him up with a heated kiss, tongues clashing together as you give him mercy.

you set your knees on either side of his thighs, hovering over his cock.

“tell me if you wanna stop, ok?” you sweetly smile at him.

‘doubt it’ he thought. but he nods, promising.

you line him up with your entrance, very slowly sinking down on him, your face scrunches up a bit from the stretch of his sheer size.

you sigh when you’re finally seated on his pulsing cock, his hands gripping hard at your waist. his head against your shoulder in concentration of not cumming on the spot.

on instinct he bucks up into your heat, making you groan and squeeze around him, hips rolling.

“f-fuck, don’t do that or i’m gonna cum” he moans, hands holding you in place so you don’t squirm.

you giggle, kissing his cheek down his jaw, letting him collect himself.

after a few moments he does an experimental roll upwards, making you softly gasp. he keeps doing this. wanting more friction, you start bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

"s'big" you whine.

he moans, hands groping at your ass to help you ride him. he looks up at you, tits bouncing through your thin little top.

“so pretty” he lifts up the bottom of your shirt to uncover your tits, taking one into his mouth. you whine, leaning into him to feel him closer.

he nibbles and sucks on your tits, pulling off to stare at your fucked out face. you stare down at him, eyes half lidded and mouth slightly open.

“kiss” you mumble to him.

he leans in, giving you a messy kiss as you fuck each other with a need for more. the way his dick fit deliciously inside of your snug pussy, almost sucking him in completely.

your hands tangle in the back of his hair, tugging and making his hips sputter. you try to do it again, but he removes your hands and puts them back on his shoulders.

"next time, g-god, m'gonna fuck you for hours, baby. promise." he pants, sucking dark red purplish marks into your poor neck.

you moan at the idea of a next time. maybe he'd take you out first on a cute date, make sweet dinner or lunch plans for you two.

or maybe he'd just take you to his dorm room and fuck you into his desk like he's been dreaming of for months. marking you up so everyone can see your matching hickies in lecture, knowing how pussy whipped you have him.

either way works.

he uses his strength to flip you back under him, never pulling out of you. he knew he was gonna cum soon, he was trying to put it off for so long but you’re making it too hard.

your head lolls back into the soft pillow, moaning as the flimsy bed frame of the dorm room squeaking like crazy. if his dick wasn't hitting every good spot right now perfectly, you'd probably give a fuck if the people next door heard.

he pumps into you as your legs wrap around his hips, bringing him closer. he fucks into you at a needy pace, his head in your neck as he whines into your ear which you could barely hear over the filthy sounds of skin slapping.

“m’sorry, gonna cum, baby” he moans. your hands go back into his hair, humming.

“please cum in me, choso. need it.” you mewl, eyes threatening to roll back at the way the tip of his cock kisses your sweet spot with every harsh thrust.

you bring a hand to your neglected clit, rubbing furiously to catch up with him, legs shivering and cunt clenching.

he groans as he spills inside of you at the feeling of your walls contracting around him sending him over the edge.

“f-fuck! feels s'good choso.” you cry, cumming so hard you practically milk his cock.

you’re both panting, his body going stiff.

you push at his arm to make him get off of you since he was practically crushing you.

“sorry” he mumbles, his voice groggy. he reluctantly pulls out of you with a hiss, pulling his boxers back on and collapsing next to you.

“hand me that towel, please?” you point to the pile of clean laundry next to your nightstand, a fresh new towel sitting atop.

“yeah, shit, sorry.” he hands you the towel as you wipe down your inner thighs.

you put your now ruined panties back in place, noticing the way he's staring at you.

"what?" you smile, covering yourself with a throw blanket you keep on your bed.

he just shakes his head in a silent chuckle, plopping down onto the bed next to you. he moves a loose strand of your hair out of your face, finger running down your jaw to your kissed out lips.

your breath hitches at his gentle touch, his thumb dragging down your lower lip.

"nothing i just..." his eyes meet yours, your stomach fluttering with anticipation.

"really like you" he sheepishly admits. you smiled at how cute he is. he just came inside of you and he was still nervous around you. how sweet.

"well i'd sure hope so." you giggle, feeling the dull throb between your legs from a few minutes ago.

it wasn't like your intentions weren't completely innocent upon inviting him here. you always thought the quiet guy in your class was hot.

you thought it was so cute whenever you'd 'accidentally' brush against him and he'd either tense up or his face would turn pink.

"but if it makes you feel better..." you cuddle up next to him, head nuzzling into his shoulder as his strong arm wraps around your waist.

"i really like you too"

you also showed up to class the next day wearing his hoodie that you successfully stole. he acted annoyed, but secretly fucking loved it.

a/n: i'm alive y'all i got my wisdom teeth out so i was not in a mood to write but i'm back!! hope u enjoy! sorry if the ending got a lil cheesy i'm trying to get better at dialogue since i usually just write pure porn.

(in need of jjk prompts i want the men so bad)

[mrsfancyferrari]

More Amor

Summary: you are going out with Carlos, you can speak his language, but you don't tell him. You were hiding your abilities due to an insecurity about your ability.

Song: Friends · Chase Atlantic

Taglist: @random-bouts-of-randomness

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! Also please follow for more! 🫶

Word count: 3.5k

MASTERLIST - F1

The roar of the engines was a constant lullaby in the Formula 1 paddock, a song that vibrated through your very bones. You loved it here, the controlled chaos, the palpable energy, the feeling of being part of something larger than yourself.

Your focus, however, was often drawn to a specific corner of the Ferrari garage – where Carlos Sainz, with his disarming smile and effortless charm, held court.

You and Carlos were friends for a long time. You found him incredibly easy to talk to, his enthusiasm infectious. You liked Carlos, perhaps more than you should.

But there was also a barrier, subtle but ever-present, that you yourself had erected. It was a secret you carried, one that gnawed at you with each passing day: you spoke fluent Spanish, his native tongue.

You hadn't always been this secretive. Back in school, Spanish had been your favorite subject, a fascination with the language and culture that had blossomed into fluency. There was a time when you'd have proudly displayed your linguistic prowess, but a few harsh critiques in a university language class, comments that chipped away at your confidence, had left you hesitant.

Now, you kept your Spanish a closely guarded secret, especially in the presence of Carlos. The thought of him, a native speaker, judging your accent or vocabulary was enough to send shivers of anxiety down your spine.

This particular afternoon, you were tucked away in the hospitality area, a small respite from the frenetic pace of the paddock. Charles Leclerc, Carlos’s teammate and another friend, was perched opposite you, nursing a bottle of water.

He was in a lighter mood after a good practice session and was keen for a diversion.

“So,” he said, his French accent thick, “teach me some more Spanish. The last phrase you taught me was very… useful.” He grinned mischievously, a glint in his eye.

You laughed, remembering the rather informal phrase you had taught him the previous day. “Okay, okay,” you said, pulling out your notebook. “Let’s try something a little less… provocative.”

You flipped to a fresh page. “How about ‘Es un placer conocerte’ – ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you’?”

You broke it down for him, pronunciation and all, your voice a soft murmur that was just audible above the ambient noise. He repeated the phrase several times, his brow furrowed in concentration until he finally managed something that was, while not perfect, definitely understandable.

“Magnifique!” you exclaimed, giving him an approving nod. He grinned, pleased with his progress, and began repeating the phrase to himself, practicing the rhythm and inflection.

Just as he did, a familiar voice spoke behind you. “Que estan haciendo ustedes?”

You froze, a chilling feeling spreading from the base of your neck. It was Carlos, standing in the doorway, a curious smile playing on his lips.

The Spanish he’d spoken was casual, his words rolling off his tongue as naturally as breathing. What are you guys doing?

A wave of panic washed over you. It was close, too close. He had heard you speaking Spanish, even if it was with Charles. Your secret, the one you had painstakingly guarded, was on the verge of unraveling.

Charles, completely oblivious to the tension thrumming in the air, turned to face Carlos, his face beaming. “‘Es un placer conocerte,’” he announced proudly, his accent thick but understandable.

You cringed internally. Oh no, Charles, no.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from Charles to you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Ah, I see. You're teaching Charles Spanish?"

You forced a smile, trying to appear casual. "Kind of," you said, your voice a little too high-pitched for your liking. "Just a few simple phrases for fun." You did not want to admit you'd been teaching him the basics.

Carlos crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe as he observed you and Charles. “Well, that’s good,” he said, his Spanish accent taking over his English slightly. “It’s always good to learn new languages.” He was still looking at you, a playful glint in his eyes that made your heart pound.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, absolutely.” You picked up your notebook and began flipping through it, pretending to be engrossed with your notes as if you didn’t already know every word you'd already written.

"What else have you taught him?" Carlos asked, stepping further into the room.

You tensed, your heart thumping wildly. “Oh, just basic stuff,” you said, your voice tight. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you wanted nothing more than to disappear. “You know, ‘hello,’ ‘goodbye,’ that sort of thing.” You hoped he didn’t see through your act.

Charles, bless his oblivious soul, was happily repeating the phrase he had learnt until it was as close to perfect as it could be. Carlos watched him, but his eyes were still on you.

He knew you were lying. He’d spoken to you in the past in Spanish and you had responded without so much as blinking. Why were you being like this?

“You sure?” he asked, a smirk dancing on his lips. He could see the panic in your eyes and the way your hands were clutching your notebook like a lifeline.

He looked at Charles again, and then back to you. “You speak a little Spanish?”

"No, I don't," you said quickly, a little too quickly. Your voice was far too high pitched. You hoped he didn't hear the fear that was leaking in your tone.

Carlos seemed to hesitate, his eyes scrutinizing yours for a moment longer. A subtle shift in his expression told you he knew you were lying, but he said nothing.

"Okay," he said finally, his tone still amused. "If you say so." He patted Charles on the shoulder. “Enjoy your lesson, Charles,” he said before turning and heading out of the room.

You breathed out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. It had been too close. You watched him leave, your heart still beating fast. You were acutely aware that you needed to be more careful.

One more slip up like that and your secret wouldn’t be a secret anymore. You knew you should tell him, but your fear of not being good enough held you back.

Later that evening, while you were trying to text, a message popped up on your phone. It was from Carlos.

“Hey, you okay? You seemed a little… agitated earlier.”

You stared at the message, your mind swirling. He had noticed. Of course, he had. He was observant, perceptive. You hesitated before typing a response.

“Yeah, all good. Just a bit tired.”

He replied almost instantly. “Tired? Or hiding something? Maybe a secret language?”

You felt a jolt run through you. He was teasing you, playfully pushing at the edges of your lie. You took a deep breath and decided to deflect.

“Nah, just a very complicated article on tire degradation. Don’t let me keep you, you probably have more important things to do!”

A few seconds later, Carlos responded; “I always have time for you. By the way, you should try speaking more Spanish. It suits you.” He included a winking emoji in the text, leaving you completely frozen.

How did he know? You hadn’t said a single word in Spanish to him, apart from earlier when it was directed at Charles. He was definitely onto you.

Your heart started pounding in your chest. You didn’t know what to do. You finally replied with a simple “Night, Carlos” message and put your phone down.

You knew that sooner or later, you would have to face the truth. You liked Carlos, and you didn’t want to keep secrets from him. But the thought of that vulnerability, the risk of judgment, still held you captive.

You hoped one day you’d find enough courage to reveal your secret, to let Carlos in completely. But for now, you would keep your language locked behind a wall of fear, hoping that the wall would come tumbling down one day.

But for now, you had to keep up with the charade, and try not to let him see you were lying about knowing his native language.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The leather armchair cradles you like a familiar friend. Sunlight, filtered through the lace curtains, dances across the spines of Carlos’s bookshelves, creating a warm, inviting atmosphere.

You’re in his living room, a space that feels as comfortable as your own, except for the subtle undercurrent of nervous energy that always seems to hum beneath your skin when you’re here.

Carlos, with his easy laugh and eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles, is the source of that familiar flutter in your chest.

He's gone to the market, a quick errand for the missing ingredient – ricotta cheese, if your shoddy Spanish comprehension served you correctly – needed for his legendary fluffy pancakes.

He'd called them “panqueques esponjosos” and the way his tongue rolled over the words had made your heart do a little tap dance.

You trace the rim of your teacup with your finger, the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway the only sound. You pull your phone from your pocket, a small smile playing on your lips.

A message from Sofia, a friend from Spain pops up. You haven't seen her since the end of your vacation and you miss her friendly banter. You hadn’t told her that you knew Carlos at first. She was thrilled when you had finally spoken about him and also excited the day you finally felt comfortable enough to speak Spanish to her.

You dial her number.

"Hola, mi amiga!" Sofia's voice crackles through the speaker, warm and vibrant as always.

"Hola, Sofia! Como estas?" you reply, feeling the familiar comfort of the language wash over you. The words flow easily, a melody you've secretly nurtured for months.

You and Sofia slip into a comfortable rhythm, gossiping about mutual friends, discussing the latest drama in her life, and laughing about inside jokes from class. You tell her about how you’ve been spending a lot of time with Carlos recently, describing the comfortable silence that settles between you, the way he always offers you the first cup of tea, and the lingering glances that sometimes catch you off guard.

She’s always encouraged you to take the leap with Carlos, but you've always been too afraid of ruining the comfortable friendship you had.

"¿Y qué tal, el chico que te gusta? ¿Como va con Carlos?" Sofia asks, her voice teasing. And how about the boy you like? How is it going with Carlos?

"He's...he's good," you stumble, a flush rising to your cheeks even though Sofia can't see you. "He's making pancakes later." You hope it doesn’t sound as silly as it feels.

You are so aware of your own internal dialogue.

"Ooh, panqueques! Sounds romantic," Sofia giggles. “Maybe he will be speaking Spanish to you soon” she winks, she is completely aware that he doesn’t know you can speak Spanish.

You have not told her about the pet name he has given you.

"Don't be silly," you say, though a small part of you desperately wishes she were right. "He calls me a few names, it's kinda silly,"

Sofia chuckles, “he likes names?"

"Yeah, Cariño." you say quietly. It’s a term of endearment that sits in your chest like a warm coal, always threatening to ignite a fire. you feel your cheeks burn a deeper shade of pink.

"Ay, ay, ay! Cariño! That means 'darling'! He definitely likes you," Sofia says, her voice filled with excitement.

You laugh, trying to downplay the significance. "It's just a word, Sofia." Even as you say the words you know it isn’t true.

You adore the way he says it, the way his voice softens slightly when he addresses you as ‘cariño’. It feels intimate, a secret language woven into your friendship.

"No, amiga, it's not just a word. It's a feeling," Sofia counters, her voice knowing.

You are about to reply when you hear a thud. A bag, probably groceries, hits the floor with a soft, muffled sound. You turn, your heart leaping into your throat, to see Carlos standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with surprise.

His face, usually so open and inviting, is frozen in a state of shock. A second later he looks hurt.

His gaze is focused on you and he's holding the bag of groceries precariously in his hand as if he's forgotten that it is there. There's a strange mix of bewilderment and something else – hurt, maybe? – flickering in his eyes.

He stares at you, mouth slightly ajar, and no words are coming from him, which is so unlike Carlos to be lost for words.

You freeze, phone clutched in your hand, heart hammering against your ribs. The blood rushes to your ears and you suddenly feel as though you’re unable to breathe, feeling as though he’s looking at you differently.

The Spanish words, the comfortable rhythm of your conversation with Sofia, the comfortable feeling you had all but a moment ago evaporates into the air.

“Carlos…” you whisper, your voice sounding small and weak. You feel your cheeks burn and you can only imagine how red your face is.

He sets the other abag on the floor with a soft thud, the sound echoing in the suddenly charged silence. “You…you speak Spanish?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

The playful light in his eyes was gone, the crinkles that always appeared when he smiled did not appear this time.

You nod slowly, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. You feel sick at the thought of how he must feel, you should have told him. You should have shown him the real you sooner. “I do,” you managed to say.

You sat perched on the edge of Carlos's ridiculously plush sofa. Your heart was still thrumming a little too fast, admittedly by the man himself. Carlos.

He was pacing in front of you now. He ran a hand through his already tousled dark hair, the movement highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw.

“I still can’t believe you spoke it,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

You fidgeted, picking at a loose thread on the throw pillow next to you. “It’s not that big of a deal,” you mumbled, your gaze fixed on the intricate pattern.

The idea of speaking it, of letting it flow freely in front of anyone, especially him, had always filled you with a surprising amount of anxiety.

“Not a big deal?” He stopped pacing, planting his hands on his hips, his gaze finally locking with yours, a faint amusement dancing in his brown eyes.

“You mean the fact that you’ve been listening to me struggle through English for years, when you could have corrected me all this time, is ‘not a big deal’?”

A blush crept up your neck. You avoided his eyes again, feigning interest in the small water stain on the coffee table. “I… I wasn't correcting you on purpose.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. It melted the nervous knot in your stomach a little. He dropped down beside you on the sofa, the cushions giving way with a soft sigh.

He turned, his whole attention now focused on you. “So, why didn’t you? Why did you keep that amazing Spanish tucked away?”

You took a deep breath, the words tasting like lead in your mouth. “I guess… I wasn't confident enough,” you finally admitted, the admission feeling like a weight lifting off your chest, however slightly. “I wasn't sure about my accent. Or if I even sounded… right.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his hand reached out to gently touch your arm, his fingers sending a jolt of warmth through your skin.

He’d always had a way of making even the simplest touch feel charged. “Mi amor, you are always right. Never doubt that. And your accent… it’s beautiful,”.

You finally looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of sarcasm, but finding only genuine sincerity. The term of endearment was a fresh shock, and it sent little shivers down your spine. “You really think so?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

He nodded, his thumb now tracing lazy circles on your skin. “Absolutely. It’s unique, and it's yours. It's part of what makes you, you." He leaned closer, his eyes boring into yours. "And I want to hear more of it.”

The air crackled, charged by the intensity of his gaze. You were acutely aware of the proximity between you, of the warmth emanating from his body, and the way his gaze lingered on your lips.

He'd managed to convince you to stay, the casual invitation coming after a day spent working with his team at the track. Your initial plan was always to return to your hotel, to maintain the comfortable distance that you had been living in.

But then you saw him, his hopeful expression and the puppy-dog pleading in his eyes and you found your resolve melting away. You told yourself it was the pull of shared language, the thrill of having someone that understood you; but deep down, you knew it was something far more profound and far more dangerous.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice a low, husky plea. “Speak more amor? Just a little bit.” His brown eyes, usually full of mischievousness, were now pools of earnest emotion.

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat creeping up your face again. “What… what do you want me to say?” you asked, the Spanish words a little hesitant at first.

A wide grin stretched across his face. “Anything. Tell me about your day. Tell me you think I’m the best driver on the grid,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with humor.

You laughed, the sound light and airy in the quiet space. "You're arrogant, tonto," you said, the Spanish rolling off your tongue with more ease than you expected.

His grin widened. “But you like me, arrogant and best driver?” he challenged.

"Perhaps," you replied, playfully avoiding his question. "It was a long day. I spent most of the morning working from home. Then, I had lunch with..." You trailed off, momentarily forgetting the English word for the person you had lunch with during the day.

"Your coach?" Carlos suggested, his gaze unwavering.

"Yes! My coach. We discussed the race strategy and went over some notes," you continued, the Spanish flowing much more easily now.

You felt a strange sense of liberation, of finally letting go of the fear that had been holding you back.

He listened intently, his head tilted slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. Every now and then, he would let out a small chuckle or offer a prompting question.

“And now?” he asked softly, interrupting you mid-sentence. “What are you going to do now?”

You glanced around his living room, its sleek lines and modern features a stark contrast to the cozy comfort of your small apartment.

"Now? I suppose... well, I guess I'm going to stay here." You held his gaze, each beat of your heart pounding in your chest.

He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb softly stroking your skin. "You're perfect," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "You being here... it makes everything feel perfect."

You shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. “Carlos…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

He leaned in, his gaze locked on your lips making the moment feel charged with unspoken promises. “Just… say it, amor,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You closed the distance between you and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was everything you expected and far, far more. It was a melting pot of the connection you’d so desperately tried to suppress.

It was a declaration in a language both shared and unspoken. When you finally pulled away, you were breathless, your heart pounding against your ribs.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “Tell me in Spanish,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You took a shaky breath, finally letting the words flow freely, without reservation or fear. “Te quiero, Carlos,” you whispered, the words finally escaping your lips. I love you.

His response was immediate. His lips crashed against yours in another kiss, this one deeper, more passionate, and full of a raw, unfiltered emotion.

You pulled him closer, your arms wrapping around his neck, losing yourself in the moment, in him, in the magic of finally being understood, finally being heard, finally being loved in the most perfect language possible.

The fear, the insecurity you had carried for so long, seemed to dissolve, replaced by a dizzying rush of hope. You had found a home in his arms, in his eyes, and in the shared language that had brought you together.

And in that moment, in his arms, with the city twinkling outside the window, you knew, with absolute certainty, that you were exactly where you were meant to be. . . .

[dollysilena]

IMPERFECT FOR YOU (18+)

you, doing a friend a favor, have to tutor miya osamu. but instead of learning about chemistry, he’s more interested in learning about you.

WC: 5.8k (send an ambulance)

WARNINGS: explicit drug (marijuana) usage, dubcon (sex under the influence), mentions of female anatomy and female identifying reader, use of ‘baby’ as petname, this is severely under-edited i’m so sorry

TAGS: frat/popular!osamu x nerdy/unpopular!reader, f!reader, porn with (some) plot, college au, post-timeskip, smut, hair-pulling, cunnilingus, petnames, reader has anxiety somebody pls give her a hug, if you get a magnifying glass osamu has a corruption kink

NOTE: i needed a palate cleanser so i can get back into writing so thus this was born. i intend to make this a mini-series (maybe?) or maybe just blurbs/headcanon series, who knows! let me know what you guys want <3

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon,” Your friend whines, folding her hands together in mock begging, giving you the best puppy eyes she could muster even throwing in a quivering lip for her dramatic performance. “He’s a perfectly nice guy!”

“So what you’re telling me, this guy–” You begin, dumping a sugar packet into your coffee.

“Who I’m tutoring.”

“Right. The guy you tutor, who never comes to class–”

You stir your coffee. She nervously chuckles.

“Who is on the verge of failing–”

You stab your straw into the cup. She lets out a tense ‘mhm’.

“And needs to pass this final to avoid being on academic probation–”

You raise the straw to your mouth. She nervously fiddles with her fingers.

“... Needs to be tutored by me instead?”

You take a sip of your coffee as your friend shrinks into the booth seat. 

“Well, you didn’t have to put it like that,” she grumbles through a slurp of her drink.

You should have known that when your best friend offered to take you out to your favorite cafe, on her, she was up to something. And you knew that when she bought you your favorite muffin, she was going to be asking you something ridiculous. The last time you were offered a free muffin, you ended up having to pretend to her parents that you were dying in the emergency room so that she could sneak out to her hookup’s place. 

The plan almost worked until they came to visit you out of concern, only to find you both not there. She was grounded for another two months.

You turn to her.

“And why can’t you do it?” Your friend was supposed to be the one tutoring him, so you were confused about why it suddenly had to be you instead.

“Because,” She grumbles as if it were obvious. “I’m already busy trying to pass my own exams, that stupid research paper for Professor Takeda is driving me crazy, babysitting my piece of shit brother–”

Translation: I’m in over my head.

“Besides, everyone knows you’re a genius and you’ll pass no matter what, so why not take on a charity case in your free time, huh?” 

She grins at you, not bothering to hide her obvious attempt at fluffing your ego to convince you.

“Does this guy even have a shot at passing?” You sigh, taking a sip of your latte. “I mean, if he doesn’t bother to come to class, how much effort do you think he’s gonna put–”

“He’s a smart guy, trust me! It’s just… y’know how college is.”

Right, he’s a college guy. He was probably knee-deep in parties instead of his textbooks.

“Why’s it on you to let this guy pass? I mean, it’s not your problem–”

“Well, his brother sorta said if I’d help him, I’d be invited to all the frat parties on campus this semester…” There it is.

She trails off but still stares at you with pleading eyes, and you notice her sliding her muffin towards you.

“You’re not gonna let up on this, are you?” You ask as you inspect the blueberry-crusted pastry now on your plate. 

“Nope,” she replies, popping the ‘p’ and grinning with her coffee straw dangling in her mouth. “Does it help that he’s super cute?”

You sigh again and pinch your nose bridge. She takes your lack of response as a victory.

“Great! I already told him that you’d come by tonight. I’ll send you his address and phone number–”

“You told him I was coming before you even knew I’d agree?!”

“Well, what else were you gonna do tonight? And don’t tell me you’re gonna watch that shitty soap opera again.”

Again, you don’t have an answer. Maybe because she’s already said it for you. But it’s not shitty! It’s romantic, moving, thrilling– okay, yeah, you’re starting to hear yourself. Maybe you shouldn’t stay in tonight.

“Fine, where does he live?”

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

At no point did your friend mention to you that the address she was sending you to would be a frat house.

You thought it was odd that the address was in the dead center of campus– but you figured that whoever you were tutoring happened to get an apartment with a great location. It should’ve been obvious to you that this area would be Greek life housing when you realize all the houses on the block were way too nice to be afforded by a typical college student. You have never stepped foot on this end of campus. Well, you hadn’t, until now.

You should’ve stayed home, nose-deep in the romance novel weighing down in your bag. But now, you’re standing on the front porch of one of the most popular frat’s on campus.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you sneer into the phone pressed to your ear.

“Quit your yapping! It’s not like there’s a party going on or something.” You could practically see your friend rolling her eyes through the phone.

You anxiously dart your eyes throughout the house exterior. It’s massive, obviously well-funded based on how nearly every window seems to be polished, and definitely better than the shitty dorm you lived in a few blocks away. You couldn’t help but dread imagining how many frat brothers lived inside.

“I’m gonna leave–”

“Hey brat, put that down!” She screeches to presumably her younger brother on the other end of the line. “Ugh, gotta go. Have fun!”

“Wait!--”

She already ends the call before you can say anything else, and you fume at her contact information staring back at you. Seriously, if somebody axe-murdered you here, you’d make sure to haunt your friend for the rest of her life.

You weigh your decisions– a part of you wants to bolt back to your dorm, imagining the comfortable blanket and pillow resting on your bed practically awaiting your return, or you could not chicken out and actually fulfill the promise you made to your friend.

Damnit, you knew you had to pick the latter. You’d feel really shitty if you didn’t.

Besides, you’d never hear the end of it if you ran out with your tail between your legs.

You ready yourself to knock on the door, admittedly through a few deep breaths first, and as your fist is about to meet the wood of the door, it swings open from the inside. Had you been a second quicker, you probably would have tapped your tutee in the face.

Except, now that you’re looking at him, he’s quite tall. It would be more at his chest than anything. His broad chest was covered in a tight black shirt, with strong shoulders… In fact, you couldn’t even see his face if you were simply staring forward. 

“Ya the tutor?” He states simply, breaking your train of thought.

You look at him to notice that there’s a face attached to the chest you were staring at. You look up, and dammit, your friend was right. He was super cute.

His hair is dark, with heavy gray eyes– bored and lazily staring at you, dumbfounded on his doorstep There’s a series of tattoos snaking beneath his shirt and piercings you couldn’t even begin to count– you nearly forget that you have to respond.

“Uhm– yeah, that’s me,” you reply, trying to regain your mental footing. “You’re Osamu, right?” 

“Mhm, come on in,” he says, sticking his hands into loose gray sweatpants…. You should really stop staring. Or at least pretend you have a semblance of class.

You step inside and slip off your shoes as you briefly inspect your surroundings. The frat house is above all else, what you expected. Minus for the fact it actually seemed clean despite the typical frat stereotypes you heard– though, you’re sure their cushy funding got them cleaning services. There’s no way a bunch of college guys living together could keep a big house like this clean without some help.

However, that makes you take note that there is a lack of frat brothers in the frat house.

“Are ya just gonna stand there and stare or come inside?” Osamu remarks and your spine grows twice as stiff. You nod quickly and follow him inside and he leads you to what seems like a living room area– some couches and chairs around a TV and coffee table.

Osamu gestures for you to sit and you cautiously sit down, as if the couch had a trap door, leading you to fall into whatever scary basement sat beneath the house.

“Where’s–” You clear your throat, hoping you can keep a firm voice. “-- the rest of your brothers?”

“All of ‘em left on a trip for the weekend, somethin’ ‘bout a party at another school, but I gotta stay back and study for this damn final.”

You quickly pull out the textbooks and notebooks from your bag and place them on the table to ignore Osamu, who takes a seat beside you. He makes you unbearably nervous like you’re about to drop on a rollercoaster. But Osamu is… He’s… stoic? No, that’s not right. Maybe calm was the right word. You wouldn’t know– you’re anything but calm right now.

No, because, quite frankly Osamu looks like he was plucked straight out of one of the daydream sequences you fall asleep to. And you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest from how fast it was racing.

“So, you need help with medicinal chemistry?” You notice your voice is an octave higher than what it usually is.

“Yeah, I missed too many classes and now I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Whatever you do, do not look at the way his arms are flexing or the distinctive veins charting throughout his forearms.

“We can start–” you flipped through your textbook to avoid staring at his arms any longer, “with the chapter on structure-based relationships–”

“Yer not who I thought Yuki would send.”

“I’m sorry?” You sputter back, and you think that your glasses pivot off your face. You were taken aback, did he think you were somebody else? Was he expecting someone else or?--

“She’s one of my brother’s friends. And my brother… Well, I don’t think ya would hang out with the likes of him.”

Oh, that’s what it was.

He was disappointed that you weren’t… someone more interesting, like your friend, or the people he knew in his frat, or…

It doesn’t matter. You should’ve expected this. After all, you’re just the tutor he has to tolerate for a few lessons until he passes his final. 

But still, you feel some sort of rejection. You couldn’t blame him, his Friday night was being wasted on some nerd who couldn’t even look him properly in the eye because she wasn’t used to being near cute guys, let alone one of the most attractive guys she had seen in, well, ever.

“Don’t look like that, I think that’s a good thing.”

“I look like what?” Your hand flies to your face, instinctively going to hide it.

“Like I kicked yer puppy,” he muses. 

You look back at him, and you see that he’s almost amused by your nerves. Your cheeks burn and you feel the need to wrap the cardigan you had on tighter around you, as if the wooly cotton would act as some sort of shield. But Osamu’s still right beside you, and you feel as if he’s intercepting some sort of barrier between you. But he sits still next to you.

“I like it, ya seem chill, and better than the damn morons I’m always ‘round. Yer a nice change of pace.”

A nice change of pace? You didn’t think that anyone would find your company… enjoyable.

“Please,” you laugh. The idea of you being chill momentarily makes you forget about your nerves. If only Osamu knew half the thoughts racing through your mind. “I’m a goody-two-shoes, and definitely not chill.”

“What, ya a good girl or somethin’?” 

You falter. You glance back at him and notice that his eyes still haven’t left you.

“What?” You say, but it comes out more like a squeak. You’re not dumb, you could hear the indication ever so slightly tinged in his voice.

“Ya just interest me, I guess. Wanna know ‘bout ya.” You hear slight amusement in his tone. 

“So tell me, what makes you a goody two shoes?”

“I, uhm–” You barely are processing an answer with the way his dark-rimmed eyes bore at you. “Well, I haven’t ever smoked–”

“Weed or–?”

You shake your head. “Neither.”

“Ya drink?”

“Sometimes. Not often. I don’t go to parties or anything like that, and drinking alone is kinda depressing so–”

He snorts. You aren’t sure why you were answering his sudden questions, you were just here to tutor him in chemical structures. But something about his presence beside you is commanding and you feel the need to comply.

“Maybe we can change that sometime.”

You barely compute what he just said before he turns to the textbook in front of you.

“So what’s this ‘bout structure activity?”

Osamu’s smarter than what you expect for a student possibly facing academic probation. Honestly, you question if he had ever needed you in the first place. He’s quick to pick up on the topics you lay out, and he probably could have self-taught himself most of the material if he applied himself. 

Or showed up to class, but you keep that thought to yourself.

“That’s pretty much all of chapter five,” you say, closing the textbook in front of you.

“I honestly think if you just kept studying on your own, you don’t need me to tutor you, I can send you some videos too if you’d like, but I think that you’re fine–”

“Nah, I’d prefer if ya came over.”

He says it simply in a lazy drawl. But for you, it sends your brain into overdrive. You feel like a computer whose code has an error but keeps trying to run its system. 

“Oh– Alright– I can come around sometime next week then.” You barely maintain to keep your composure. You just needed to be on auto-pilot until you got home, where you could properly freak out in the sanctity of your own room.

“Ya okay with late nights? Stupid frat schedule keeps me busier than I’d like to be.” He asks.

You nod your head. “Mhm, I’m fine being over late.”

“That too much for ya?” And there’s a lazy smile across his lips. “Ya got a bedtime or something?”

You give him another small laugh. “No, I usually stay up late anyway.”

“Ya stay up late? Doin’ what?” 

There it is again. That sliver of amusement in his tone, as if he knows something that you don’t. But he keeps his calm demeanor, the one that makes you question if you’re just reading too much into things.

“Reading, watching shows, y’know, the normal stuff.”

Reading the stack of romance novels piled in your dorm until you see the sun peak through your blinds, watching soap operas until the screen asks ‘Are you still watching?’ because they assumed you left it open when in reality you’ve watched about five hours worth of television, dreaming, and wondering if someday you could attain even a fraction of the romance you see in fiction.

Yeah, the normal stuff.

At least for you, anyway. But hell would freeze over before you admit that. 

Especially to Osamu, who you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of a flutter in your chest for.

“That’s all ya got planned for Friday night?” He hums, fingers absentmindedly twirling a pencil in his free hand.

“Yup,” you reply, softly. Great, now he probably thinks you’re a loser just like everyone else. You should have just told him you were going to head to a party, like any other normal college student your age.

“Ya wanna do somethin’ with me, then? I’m bored as hell being in this house all alone.”

For a moment, you think that you hear him wrong. Certainly, a guy, as hot, as intimidating, and– and so many things you’re not, and certainly couldn’t match to, was offering to hang out with you. No way, this doesn’t happen. Not to girls like you.

“You wanna hang out with me? Like right now?”

“Would ya prefer a different time, then?” His tone though, doesn’t suggest that he wants to reschedule. It’s painfully sardonic. It seems like it would be now, or not at all.

“N-no. I’d…”

For once, you have a chance to not have a nose in a book. To not spend your weekend alone wondering if that was going to be the rest of your college life. You have the chance to do something for yourself. 

And something as simple as hanging out with a cute guy on a Friday night could be the start of that.

You sit up straighter and hold your head up. Something is tickling in your chest as you look back at Osamu, finally meeting back those eyes that couldn’t seem to stop studying you.

“Yeah, I’d like to.”

Something is screaming inside you. This is unfamiliar territory. This is foreign. Leave now. Abort mission. But you shove it down, you weren’t stopping while you were already ahead. New is good, you told yourself. But you still feel the urge to bolt out the door to cower under your covers.

You had put all your school supplies back into your bag and nestled yourself into the corner of the couch, making yourself as small as can be. Osamu said you two could ‘watch a movie and chill’. You could do something as simple as a movie, right? 

“Ya comfy?” He asks.

“Yeah, thank you,” you say quietly, as if speaking up would take up more space in the room.

“I can tell that yer nervous,” he comments. It was that obvious, huh?

“Yeah, I don’t…” you pause to collect yourself, “usually do this.”

“Hang out with guys only after a few hours of meeting ‘em?” He laughs, relaxing himself on the couch.

“Hang out with guys,” you mutter under your breath.

“What’d ya say?” He says, looking over at you questioningly. It seems he heard you.

“I don’t hang out with guys, at all,” you replied, tone clearer now, “much less cute ones–”

Shit, shit, shit. You didn’t mean to say the last part.

“Ya think I’m cute?”

You wondered if you sank deeper into the couch, that’d you’d disappear completely.

“I mean, yeah– you’re attractive, of course.” He has to know that, right? A guy like him definitely knows he’s attractive. “And usually… guys like you don’t hang out with… people like me, that’s all.”

You’re not sure where the sudden gust of courage comes from, considering you were so anxious moments ago– but the question spills out from your mouth before you can think twice about it.

“Why’d you want me to hang out with you?” You ask suddenly, turning to him.

“Maybe ‘cause I think yer cute,” he states simply as if it were an easy answer, leaning back and looking back at the TV.

You haven’t been paying attention to whatever movie Osamu turned on– What was this? Some slasher flick?-- Something with a girl shrieking at the top of her lungs while obviously fake blood pours out of her. It’s ridiculous and you would laugh if there wasn’t a weight weighing on your mind– the weight is also sitting right next to you.

No, you can’t notice the terrible special effects when you know Osmau is beside you– warm and taking up the majority of the space on the already small couch you’re both sitting on.

You can’t help but have your brain go into overdrive over what Osamu said. Did he just call you cute and then drop the topic? What were you supposed to do? Just watch the movie and just not address it? Is this what guys did? Is that how you flirt?-- you have a lack of answers. Mostly due to a lack of experience.

You spend the first thirty minutes of the movie wondering if you were just imagining Osamu slowly inching towards your half of the couch. By the time the first half of the movie is through and the killer is on his third victim, you decide you’re right when you realize that Osamu’s thigh is ghosting yours.

Now you really can’t deny it. 

A part of you thinks Osamu wants to be closer to you. 

But also, he could just be doing it subconsciously.

It’s probably the latter, but maybe…

“I can hear yer heartbeat from here,” Osamu practically chuckles from beside you.

“What?”

You try not to stammer it. You fail, anyway.

“I can tell that yer nervous, relax. I don’t bite.”

No, you’re certain that Osamu doesn’t bite. But you know that he’s close to you. Which could be worse. In fact, that is worse.

It’s worse because your senses are going haywire from how close he is.

You can tell he smells good. He smells better than whatever cologne sample you’ve ever smelled in a store or magazine. He smells like– what’s the term? Musky? Woody? You aren’t sure, you just know it’s slowly becoming your favorite scent.

You can feel his body heat, warm and consuming. You can hear his breaths– low and steady. You focus on all these other things to ignore the fact he’s boring his dark eyes straight into you.

“I got something for ya,” Osamu suddenly remarks. “Stay right there.”

You barely process what he says before he removes himself from the couch, and heads out of the living room.

Your brain isn’t able to overanalyze like it usually does because Osamu is back in about a minute. Your defenses are still up. What could he possibly have for you? Your mind is sprawling with questions as Osamu plops himself right back beside you.

“C’mere, this should help yer nerves,” Osamu hums, as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him.

You don’t ignore the way you feel his hands skimming over the sliver of exposed skin between your sweater and jeans, like hot coals brushing against you.

 “Ya never smoked before, right?”

“No, I’ve never…” You realize that what he was holding in between his fingers was a freshly rolled blunt.

“Would ya like to try?”

You couldn’t lie, you’ve always been curious to try, especially since your friends were always talking about how ‘amazing’ it made them feel and how it would do wonders for your nerves. 

You look at the blunt between his fingers cautiously and peek back at him.

“It’ll be okay, I got ya, nothing to worry yer pretty little head about.” 

Pretty. Did he call you pretty? He has you?-- Fuck it, you needed something to put out the fires of your nerves.

“Okay, let’s do it,” you nod meekly.

“Attagirl,” Osamu grinned lazily. You don’t even bother to think about that comment, either. If you did, you’d be dead in a minute.

You watch as Osamu digs around the coffee table for a lighter, which is conveniently laid out on the table, as if ready for this moment. You watch as he flicks a flame to the blunt. He languidly takes a hit, and the smoke that hits the air is pungent. You’re glad there’s a window cracked open so the smell doesn’t collect in the room. 

You should be studying his motions to mimic them for when it's your turn, but instead, you drink in the fact that he looks oh so fucking attractive. 

He leans back on the couch, and you watch the way he tips his head back to blow out the smoke into the air above. You study the way veins flow through his neck and the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he exhales. You feel– fuzzy, warm. Are you high already? There’s a heat creeping from your chest, and you think you feel dizzy.

Yeah, you’re high. Totally. That has to be it.

When Osamu takes a look back at you, you avert your stare to your lap– reminding yourself that you’re acting odd. Cool girls don’t gawk at a guy smoking a blunt, they would– Well, you have no idea what they would do actually because you’re not cool.

And that’s obvious from the way you look at the blunt in Osamu’s hand like he’s handing you an unpinned grenade.

Osamu clocks in on the terror painted on your face. It’s so obvious somebody ten miles away could probably sense the nerves emitting from your body. You’re hoping you aren’t giving the deer-in-headlights look you usually have.

But you definitely are.

Osamu’s face softens at you.

“Do ya still wanna try? Ya don’t have to if ya don’t wanna–”

“Nono! I wanna try it.” you nearly jump at Osamu’s words. You’re a lot of things– nervous, nerdy, probably weird if you asked the guy who sat next to you in chemistry, but maybe that’s because he’s seen you write in three separate color-coded planners before. 

“Alright,” Osamu chuckles as he watches you take the packed roll from him.

But you’re not a quitter.

There’s a sudden adrenaline rush for you, almost like you’re taking a shot of tequila. You pinch the blunt and raise it to your lips before taking a hit– your very first.

You make sure not to inhale much. You’re already on the verge of coughing from the taste alone. You pull it away, letting out a meek cough, as smoke expels from your mouth. It tastes shitty and gross, like you expected. But you feel good? 

“Not bad,” Osamu muses, and you realize he was watching you the entire time.

Osamu looks at you. He’s been looking at you a lot tonight, you realize.

But that doesn’t mean anything.

“I have no idea how you don’t cough,” you say, as you pass the blunt back to him. 

“Taste bad?” He grins lazily. His arm is still around your waist. It feels good, too.

“Horrible.” It doesn’t stop you from inhaling more of the sour smoke.

“Look at ya,” Osamu chuckles. “Like it, don’t ya?”

You’re making Osamu smile, laugh even. And it makes your head spin even faster.  It’s so good.

Good, good, good. 

Everything feels so fucking good.

Osamu makes you feel good.

“What are ya mumbling about?” Osamu asks plucking the blunt from your fingertips, and you snap out of it. Well, almost, the feeling is still pooling in your chest, head– everywhere.

“I just– I feel–”

“Feel what?”

You start giggling. Doesn’t Osamu feel it too?

But maybe he does because he’s smiling at you. It’s not the same giddy heart-melting feely smile you have plastered on, it’s more relaxed. But you almost could see… a bit of amusement.

“Figures ya would be a lightweight for yer first time– probably shouldn’t have given ya the strong shit, but’s all I had.”

“I wanna do it again,” you sleepily smile waiting for Osamu to pass you the blunt. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, Osamu pauses to look at you again. This time he seems… inquisitive. He looks at the roll between his fingers, and you can tell that he’s calculating something in his head– then he looks at you.

“Ya wanna try something?”

His voice is low and there’s that tone of interest again. 

“Try what?”

“It’s a… different way to take a hit.”

It doesn’t take much to convince you and you nod at him. You just wanted more. More of the good feeling, more of Osamu.

You expect him to pass you the blunt, maybe with some sort of instructions, but instead, he takes another hit. You’re about to ask whatever question you had before Osamu reaches for your chin and takes it firmly.

Despite your brain being foggy, your brain is working overtime. Osamu is touching you– staring at you. And now his face is ghosting yours. You’re close enough to notice the slightest freckle ghosting his left cheek. Were you always this warm? No, you’re burning. There’s a fire sweeping in your chest, your head, your face– everywhere. You’re so warm– Osamu’s so warm.

And there’s a moment where you zero in. Osamu isn’t exhaling.

You realize what he wants to do.

The smoke inside his mouth isn’t for him– it's for you.

Your lip doesn’t even quiver in the way it usually does whenever you blurt out something nervously. Instead, your lips part invitingly, and you barely even register Osamu has closed the distance until his lips are brushing against yours and there’s a wisp of smoke pooling from his mouth to yours.

Osamu still had one hand steadied on your chin and the other was caging you into the couch corner. The further the smoke spills into your mouth, the more you sink into the couch. You barely even register there’s no more smoke to inhale because your back hits the seat of the couch, and Osamu’s on top of you.

“There’s a freckle on your left ch– mmph!”

Osamu’s mashing his lips into yours in an instant. You didn’t even think there could be any more room for Osamu to close in– he was already so close to you– but you were wrong. 

The kissing– it’s sloppy, depraved, even. Your glasses press against your face painfully from how quickly Osamu pounced on you, so you pull them off your face, not even caring where you throw them. You both feverishly want more, more, more. Osamu’s grabbing at your hips, his hands big and pawing at you. Your own hands are mapping the outline of his shoulders through his shirt. Osamu’s large body dwarfs your own, his weight resting on you. Your hands feverishly grabbed at him as your lips chased after the feeling you’ve been relishing– the good feeling– the feeling is pouring straight into your lips like rushing water and you’re drinking it in. It marries itself with the dizzy euphoric feeling clouding in your mind. So, so good.

He’s everywhere– you feel him everywhere. Your head is spinning. Osamu’s lips– coated in saliva mixing with your chapstick, pull you in even further. You don’t even know how you’re breathing, you haven’t gone for air in what feels like years.

But Osamu, selfishly, wants more. And so do you. So you don’t protest when you feel him rut his hips directly into yours– the throbbing bulge in his pants hitting that sweet spot you weren’t even aware was wanting for more. You moan feverishly against Osamu’s lips, the sound barely spilling out against him.

Osamu pulls himself off your lips, burying his face into the crook of your neck so you can feel every rugged heavy breath against your skin.

“Fuck, baby.” He’s panting, his hips grinding deeper into yours. The sweatpants he’s wearing, the jeans you have on, it’s too many layers. You’re unashamedly pawing at Osamu’s pants, begging for him to take them off so you can feel more.

“‘Samu, please,” you whine. You don’t even think of the nervous, shy, girl who walked into the apartment a few hours ago. She had been replaced with someone more desperate, unashamed in being so greedy for more.

Osamu doesn’t need to ask what you’re asking for, before shrugging off his pants and kicking them off somewhere on the floor. And in a moment, he’s unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off you like it’s burning you. Osamu’s already dark eyes– grow even darker at the sight of the wet spot growing on your panties and your sweater riding up your stomach.

“Please, please,” you cry with moans of his name in the absence of movement.

“Tell me what ya want,” Osamu pants.

“Wanna feel good.”

“Fuck,” he groans, before lowering his face to meet your stomach. He trails wet, firm kisses along your stomach, trailing down until his face is centered with your dripping cunt– clearly begging for more the way it clenches when you feel his hot breath ghosting the outside of your panties.

You absentmindedly grab at his hair, pushing him further to your aching cunt, encouraging him to continue– practically pleading the way you attempt to grind your pussy into him.

Osamu yanks off whatever panties you had on, and you swear you hear fabric ripping. But you couldn’t care less when you feel Osamu’s tongue languidly lick a stripe against your slit before beginning to circle your clit.

Your back arches off the couch and your wanton moans fill the empty air. You hope that Osamu’s didn’t have thin walls. But when Osamu suddenly slips a finger into your– it’s suddenly the least of your worries. 

The combination of Osamu’s tongue suckling at your clit and his now two fingers pumping in and out of you sends you into ecstasy. Every nerve in your body was vibrating as your head clouded between the weed running through your system and Osamu buried in his pussy eating you out like his life depended on it. Fuck what you smoked, Osamu was the real drug.

There’s a moment where your nerves pinch together– and everything in your chest collects, all those funny feelings turning hot and heavy in your lower stomach, before you cum. And you cum, hard.

You grab Osamu’s hair at the roots with a moan– no, scream, almost reflective of the horror movie actress you were making fun of earlier, as you coated Osamu’s face with slick. You don’t even realize how much it was until Osamu raises his head and his mouth reflects glossily.

You’re swimming in the hazy cloud of pleasure for a while, until your breathing steadies and you’re settling into the couch with heavy pants.

“Not bad for yer first time, right?” Osamu chuckles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What?” H-how did he know–

“Yer first time smoking?” Osamu smirks as he pulls himself up so he can sit on the couch.

“Oh, y-yeah,” you mumble, pulling your sweater down so you can cover your lower half.

You avert your gaze from Osamu, embarrassed by the lack of clothes you had on. You felt a tinge more sober now– enough to realize that it was way past the time you thought you’d stay. The movie credits weren’t even playing anymore– the TV had just gone into sleep mode. Osamu notices this too when he takes a glance out the window.

You think about what he said. Your first time was good. And maybe… Maybe you should try having more firsts.

“It’s late, ya shouldn’t be walkin’ home at this hour–” So that’s why…

“Ya wanna just crash here?”

You let Osamu take another first.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

LIKES, REBLOGS, COMMENTS, & TAGS ARE APPRECIATED + HELP ENCOURAGE YOUR LOCAL WRITER (ME)! ♡

[ellies1luvr]

dealer!ellie x reader

(head cannons)

based on the song daddy issues by the neighborhood

A/n: Im writing this on my notes app, have never written before but i fear if i don’t write this it will never be written😅 currently going though a situation ship and im very touched starved so that is wear this is coming from‼️

Idc if minors read

please give me feedback even if its not the nicest it is really appreciated!!

TW: erm lesbians, reader having daddy issues, casual by chappell roan mentioned, crying, panic attacks, anxiety, reader sits on ellies lap, weed, lmk if i missed anything!! no use of y/n‼️

Dealer Ellie who met you at a party having panic attack

Dealer Ellie who brought you back to a random couch at the frat party and gave you free weed to calm you down while having a meaningful conversations

Dealer ellie who drove you home and got your phone number

Now anytime you have a panic attack or anything close to one, you call ellie and she comes over with free weed/ holds your hand and comforts you the whole time

“hey pretty girl” “there you go pretty”

when you smoke to much shes there to ground you

“its okay baby i got you, your safe with me”

Soon after you both catch feelings, not telling each other because you don’t want to ruin whats going on.

You call ellie one afternoon asking if she can come over, shes really busy but you dont need to know that and comes over.

you both end up confessing your feelings and make out on the couch, soon you both fall asleep in each others arms

by the end of that night you and ellie are bound by the hip (i think thats how the saying goes?? idk) ellie always with you in someway or some form.

Ellie soon finds out about your attachment issues and fear shes gonna leave you in some way, (hints daddy issues😅) but that fear is soon subsided by ellie and her always with and doting on you

at the beginning of you and ellies relationship, you tried not to get too comfortable but as soon as you do, you are clinging to ellie all the time.

(deals, in classes, restaurants, idk but always touching ellie and ellie always with or touching you in some way)

Getting with ellie didnt stop all your panic attacks or anxiety, when bad panic attacks would happen you would sit on ellies lap with a tv show playing in the background, ellie lighting a blunt, lightly placing it between your lips watching you inhale and exhale

Dealer ellie making that collage dealer bank, would take you shopping all the time.

no matter what your style, hyperfem, on the masculine side, or neither she would spoil the hell out of you.

You and ellie dont have sex untill about a month into the relationship, deciding to take it slow

You and ellie rarely ever got in fights, (you being sensitive also hints daddy issues😅) would cry when ellie raised her voice at you, not trying to be manipulative in the way that anytime you two get in disagreements you cry, but when she would yell, yes.

“ellie that girl was flirting with you i saw it”

“babe no she wasnt”

“ellie please just stop dealing to her”

“babe its my fucking job to deal what do you expect for a dealer in a collage campus not to get hit on?!”

when she heard sniffles her heart immediately dropped realizing that she yelled.

safe to say that girl never got another ounce of weed from ellie again.

i feel like all of ellies past relationships were just “casual” but with you it was very different!

Red wine supernova by chappell roan is definitely her favorite song on rise and fall of a midwest princess (but she relates to casual 😅 the most)

The first time she took you to meet joel you cried bc your dad cut you off once he found out you were gay , and especially not a dad like joel

one time when you amd ellie once woke up early enough to make breakfast before classes, you started a playlist on you phone

Naked in manhattan by chappell roan started playing, you started dancing and ellie soon followed hugging you from behind kissing your neck

Suggestive

at party’s when ellies dealing, you would always be perched on her lap, facing ellie, counting her freckles

Ellie being ellie is horny when shes high, you being you are emotional when high but that doesnt stop yall from having heated moments when both of yall are high.

i feel like ellie would have Lunch by billie eilish playing when shes high and that always leads to a long (fun) night

thanks for reading dykes‼️

[queers-gambit]

Lost and Found

prompt: ( requested ) you're just friends, but on your first night at Saltburn, you get lost in the vast halls and accidentally walk in on lover boy after a bath. he wants you to stay.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 3.6k+

note: this SHOULD'VE gotten slutty, but it DIDN'T because i'm back in the hospital and the LAST thing i need is a nurse walking in on me writing fucking smut - oh, my God, can you imagine? new fear unlocked!

warnings: RIP Queen Lizzie, cursing, sexual tension, emotions are hard, Lord's name in vain, depiction of mental illness (anxiety), author throws in a little personal detail cause writing is therapy.

"Honestly, who lives in a place like this? The bloody Queen, that's who. Her and all her fucking rooms! Jesus!" You grumbled, dipping down another winding hallway. "All right, this looks familiar, that's... Encouraging, right?" You frowned, glass of water in hand after venturing to the kitchen to fetch it - but now, you couldn't navigate your way back to your room. "Of course," you growled quietly, opening a door and finding a linen closet.

How silly, in a place like this! A fucking linen closet!

You huffed and shut the door, feeling incredibly awkward and terribly misplaced. You mind screamed that didn't belong here, you never should've set foot in a place like this! How fucking foolish you felt, like a silly little girl who was just excited her crush spoke to her, let alone invited you home with him for the summer holiday.

But it was Felix fucking Catton - certified enigma. He was all man with a boyish charm who smiled at you on move-in day at Oxford and sealed your fate. He was ridiculously nice, so very sweet, borderline annoying with his giving nature and kindness. He was loyal to a fault, intuitive, observant, admirably carefree, and so very happy to give his love to anyone who needed it. For a few weeks, you felt almost offended by his attention, wondering what kind of broken soul he thought you were; knowing he had an affinity for "damaged" or "broken" things.

At least, that's what his cousin, Oxford's registered and certified catty bitch, Farleigh Start, teased you about relentlessly when he noted the way Felix hung around you. Felix invited you out with friends, offered to study together, walked you to and from classes - even if his were in the literal opposite direction. You had no honest idea how the two were related, given Farleigh's constant attitude and Felix's overwhelming kindness, but that wasn't for you to understand. You just relished the attention Felix bestowed in-between your skepticism.

And here you are, your first night in his home, Saltburn, completely lost and totally turned-around! You didn't need water all that bad, did you? Granted, you had a several tablets to take that evening to maintain your health, but you could've used the fucking sink in the adjoining bathroom! You grew frustrated the more doors you opened, finding empty rooms or closets or another fucking library or studies or whatever! As if this home wasn't big enough, there were multiple levels and all you knew was that you and Felix were both located on the same floor with his parents above you and his sister and Farleigh beneath.

So, that helped.

But you still felt so fucking silly.

Seriously, who got LOST in someone else's home!? Fools, that's who!

Okay, okay, okay, you didn't need to be so hard on yourself, but you grew nervous and fearful for a reason you didn't understand. Your anxiety was planted in your stomach, festering, growing, taking over you to the point that you had tears in your eyes when you found yet ANOTHER fucking study!

"Oh, even the bloody fucking Queen doesn't have this many useless rooms, and she's a much bigger family, Jesus fucking Christ," you sneered to yourself - ready to give up and just sleep in one of the empty rooms. But you didn't want Duncan finding you in the morning, asking questions, forcing you to admit you were lost - you felt humiliated enough as it was! And that was without anyone witnessing this absolute mess you had made!

Well, not technically a mess - but you felt like a mess the more you crept around. And now, you felt fucking creepy - like some stalker, sneaking around the halls, trying to spy on this very nice family. You knew you weren't, but the feeling was still there - fucking anxiety would honestly be the death of you.

However, you came upon a familiar (enough) door that had a gentle light emitting from under it. With a sigh of relief, you suddenly remembered leaving a light on for yourself to return to; reaching for the doorknob, twisting it, and darting into the room while swiftly swinging the door close - but halting it to shut quietly as to not disturb anyone in the empty halls.

Yeah, anxiety was a bitch.

"Ohh-ho, evenin', love," a voice greeted, making you gasp, jump, and twist around. "Miss me that much? Heard the drain on the tub, didn't yah, had to come sneak a peek?"

Felix fucking Catton stood at the end of a messy bed in all his glory, running a towel through his wet curls. Nothing obscuring your sight, nothing hiding his manhood, nothing - literally nothing on his body except a shit-eating grin.

"Jesus, Fi! Fuck, I-I-I'm so - um," you gulped, trying not to ogle him, but failing (miserably) when beads of water rolled between the contours of his impossibly impressively sculpted muscles. "I just - you know, this place is so bloody big - um, I'm sorry - I just... Yeah..."

He smirked, nodding sarcastically, "Uh-huh. And you just happened to stumble into my room? Pretty good timing, too, wasn't it?"

You squeaked, "I didn't mean to! I swear - Felix, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to, um, yeah, you know - uh..."

"Like what you see, sweetheart? Why don't you come in closer, get a better look?"

You adverted your eyes out of respect and fumbled messily for the door handle. "Oh, sweet Jesus. Bloody house is just too bloody big, I got all turned around - just needed some water and I just - fuck, I'm sorry - "

"Hey, hey," Felix chuckled, wrapping his towel loosely around his hips so his V-line was still on raunchy display, "I'm only teasin', love. I know this place can get confusin' t'newcomers. I actually meant to grab you some water, know you gotta take your tablets."

You swallowed your embarrassment, sighing, "I'll just - yeah - no - I'll, um, just go - I'm so sorry, again."

"You know where you're goin' all of a sudden?"

You faced the door, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, shaking your head gently, "Well, no, but I'll figure it out - I left a, um, I left a light on, you know, to help - I don't know - uh, guide me?"

"You've not stuttered this much since we first met," he laughed, tugging a pair of boxers on for your sanity (and to your dismay). "I'm dressed, doll, you can look at me now. C'mon, bit weird talkin' to your back."

"We're not talking, Felix, I'm going to bed."

"Then why haven't you left yet?"

You blinked at the intricately carved door, realizing your hand was still on the knob, but it hadn't turned. "I didn't want to be so rude as to just walk out, mid-sentence!"

"Hey, hey, you're all right, darlin', I'm only teasin'," he grinned, hearing his bare feet pad over the ground before his warm hand wrapped around your elbow. "C'mon, love, hang with me a bit - 's not that late, is it?"

"Oh, so, Duncan can walk in? Make his assumptions?" You whispered, slowly facing him and leaning back on the door with a pout. His big, brown, doe-eyes stared directly into yours, making you feel under his spotlight - something akin to a privilege, since Felix Catton didn't bestow his attention on everyone. "I just needed water, I didn't mean t'get, you know, lost like this. Seriously, this place looks totally different at night."

"Surprised you even got this far, huh?"

"I looked in any room with an open door," you admitted with a small wince. "I felt so creepy, but I was all turned around - and you know, you shouldn't leave other lights on in rooms not being used. Terrible waste of energy."

"Awh, my sweet, environmentally-conscious girl," he cooed, hand raising to gently pinch your jaw. There was a serene moment, the pair of you just staring at one another, becoming acutely aware that he was still practically naked. "C'mon, don't leave yet, we can play cards if you like?"

"I've medicine t'take - "

"Right, right, right," he nodded, letting his hand drift to hold your neck in a gentle grasp. "Tell you what, you stay here, I'll grab your meds, and bring them back? You keep 'em in that li'l pink bag, yeah?"

"I don't know how to feel that you know which is my med bag," you narrowed your eyes playfully.

"Just shows I pay attention, don't it?"

"Maybe shows we spend too much time together?"

He kissed his teeth, grinning at you, "There's no such thing - in fact! I reckon we could double our time together and it still wouldn't feel like enough."

"Well, how's that help me later? I still don't know where my room is - oh, don't laugh!" You groaned, Felix snickering louder. "Fi, c'mon, it's not funny - this place is huge! Like, illegally huge!"

He cooed, "Oh, doll, 'M not laughing at you, promise. Just... You're not the first person t'get lost here, yeah?"

You scoffed with severe discomfort, "I really don't want t'hear 'bout all the other girls you've brought home - "

"Hey, now," he cut you off swiftly, "don't do that." He shrugged meekly, "There's been no others, just friends. Mine, Farleigh's, Venetia's... They've all gotten lost once or twice... Or that time we had to actually draw Reggie a map, poor lad got lost around every bend."

You rolled your eyes, "Truly expect me to believe that, do you?" Then you let your eyes widen a fraction, teasing, "Oh, wow, you really believe it! You really believe you haven't brought home other girls who you're interested in or who are into you?"

He crowded you into the door, shifting the room's energy to something sultry, making you hold your breath as his hand slid into your hair. "You know you're the only one, right?"

"You know that's absolute bullshite, right? Like, what a fucking line!"

He tisked, "C'mon, doll."

"Be honest, Felix."

His head cocked, "Want the truth?"

"That'd be a nice change of pace."

He scoffed lightly, "I don't give a single fuck if any of our previous guests cared for me - only you. Hear me?" He took the last step so he was stood with his feet slotted between yours. "I didn't bring them here for any other reason than friendly entertainment. You've seen the place, as big as it is, can get a bit lonely without anyone to hang with. But I asked you here... For different reasons..." He whispered, eyes jutting down to your lips as he kept a firm hold on you.

"And what reasons are those, Fi?"

He smirked, "Obviously... To kick your arse at cards."

You were flooded with pure disappointment. Raw, unfiltered disappointment that deflated your shoulders. "Yeah, right, like that would ever happen," you covered, nudging him a single step away from you. "Wanna be a gentleman and direct me to my room now?"

"Nope," he grinned, snatching your hand and yanking you away from the door. "You're gonna sit your pretty self right here," he nudged you to the edge of his bed, turning for his desk, then turning back to you to slap a deck of cards to your hand, "you're gonna shuffle these, and mentally prepare to get your arse handed to you at your own game."

You chuckled slightly, "Thought you hated 51 Rummy?"

"Only when sober," he smirked, leaning down to peck your forehead sweetly. "Sit tight, doll, I'll be a moment, yeah?"

You sighed and watched him exit the room, reaching to set your glass of water down and observe the room. In a moment of weakness, you pet over his sheets as if tempted to snuggle into them - and you were! You were cold from the lack of robe you meant to shrug on, and wondering the halls of Saltburn took much longer than you anticipated - now wanting to dive into the warmth you knew was left, the same warmth that Felix left on everything.

You jumped when the door opened again, Felix slipping inside with your little pink bag. His brows pinched, "All right, love?"

"Hmm? Yeah - "

"Your feet are nearly blue," he shook his head, handing you your bag before turning for his wardrobe. "Socks or sweats?"

"Huh?"

He turned, holding up a pair of sweatpants and socks, repeating, "Socks or sweats? Figured you're a bit cold in that." The left side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk, eyeing you in your sleep shorts and loose teeshirt that had the collar ripped out, showing a hint of cleavage.

"Oh, uh, socks, please."

He tossed you the socks, dropped the sweats, and joined you on the bed as you pulled the oversized garment onto your feet. "C'mere, get close, get comfortable," he chuckled, pushing his blankets down to sit in the sheets, waiting until you turned in the bed to yank the blankets up over both your legs. "Didn't shuffle? My naughty girl," he joked, reaching for the deck of cards and opening it. He offered a much softer smile, eyes darting to your medicine bag, and then focusing on the cards - as if to give you privacy to take your meds.

You did so quickly, insecure about the rattling bottles and the amount of tablets in your cupped hand, but never once had Felix made you feel bad about your needs. After swallowing them, you cleared your throat and turned to face Felix as he divided the cards for the game, nodding to his side table, "Paper's over there, doll, for the score."

"Sure you want me to keep score?" You asked softly, reaching for the pad of paper and spare pen. "Last time we played, you lost so very miserably, I was embarrassed for you. We can save your pride a li'l, not keep score."

"It's only polite to let the pretty lady win."

"Oh, tryin' to butter me up, are you?"

"Is it working?"

"I'll let you know."

Felix chuckled, leaning back to the headboard. Then, he asked softly, "You feelin' all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, all good."

"Sure?"

"Why?"

"Hands are shakin' a bit."

You eyed him for a moment, changing the subject by asking, "How're you not freezing? Seriously, 's like the floors are air conditioned."

"Nah, just not cold."

"Your nipples say otherwise."

"Lookin' at my nipples, are you?" He grinned. "Now you're a very naughty girl, knew you didn't stumble into my room on accident!"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself!" You pushed his shoulder, but he leaned closer. "Felix - "

"You could just stay here," he offered softly.

"You got me for a game - "

"No, I mean, uh..." He chuckled to himself, shaking his head and readjusting so he was supported on one elbow, facing you. "Nah, nevermind, all right, so, back to the game - "

"No, wait, say what you're thinking," you encouraged softly. "Know I hate you doin' that."

"Yeah, you get all anxious," he nodded. "I don't want t'be too forward, all right? But... You know, we sleep together at Oxford. I-In the dorms, you know?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Just thought, maybe you'd wanna stay here? With me? If you want, won't make yah, sweetheart, just thought... You know, in a house this big, you wouldn't get so lost stayin' here... Maybe?"

"Oh, aren't you my hero?"

"I know, I know, I'm just tryna look out for you, my li'l lost love. And, you know, prevent you from finding our secret dungeon," he gasped comically.

"That's not even a joke 'cause I'd believe it in a place like this. Is it a dungeon for torture or sex?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Maybe I'd like to see it. Hm," you considered, "maybe I should stay here, you know - so you can show me around and go get me water when I need it. Save my toes from freezing off, wonderin' 'round here."

He grinned, "Yeah?"

"If it's not too scandalous?"

"'S not like anyone would care... Except me, you know? I'd... I'd like you to stay here. Like havin' you close, sweetheart."

"Well, maybe you could put some clothes on? You're terribly fucking distracting! I'm here to win a card game, and I'll be damned if you win 'cause your abs are... You know, staring right at me, you cheater," you grinned, turning to face him fully with your legs crossed, the space in the sheets open for your cards.

"I think you like me naked," he grinned. "I mean, you stared long enough."

"I was just caught off guard!"

"Oh, I'm sure," his grin turned wicked. "You're still staring, doll."

"Well, it's not as if you're quick to cover yourself!"

"You're not too quick t'look away, either!"

"I was - "

"Caught off guard, yeah, you've said," he chuckled, staring at you with those moony brown eyes that made you feel as if you were the only girl he's ever seen. "Maybe I liked you lookin'."

"Is that so?"

He nodded slightly, "Yeah, not such a bad thing. You're kinda the only one I want lookin' at me like that, anyway."

"You absolute cheesehead!" Your laughter was quiet, trying not to tip Duncan off to your antics.

"You know, they're not just for lookin'," he perked his pierced brow at you. "Feel free to touch whenever you want, too."

"Hm, always knew you were a slut."

He gasped dramatically. "Is that anyway to talk to your host? Especially after giving you refuge from the big, scary, confusing halls?" Your eyes rolled and reached out to pushed his forehead, making him rock back into the pillows and headboard - but he was quick to snatch your wrist as he fell. You were yanked across the slim space, pulled so you were directly resting onto his chest; forearms bracing against his pectorals. He grinned, caressing the back of your head, teasing, "'Ello, love."

"You're a fucking fiend."

"And you're so fucking beautiful."

"I'm already stayin' here, Fi, you don't have to lay it on so thick."

He hummed, "You know... If you were mine, you'd get this treatment all the time. I can't stop - you're just so easy to compliment."

Feeling bold, perhaps from being so close and him being nearly naked, you whispered, "Then maybe you should stop shuffling your feet, grow a pair, and ask me already."

He paused, the moment turning soft as you relax against his body; stretched out the length of him, but still remaining propped on his chest to look down at his sweet face.

"Was a bit afraid to, actually, love."

"Why?"

"Haven't felt like this with anyone," he admitted, "'s just so fuckin' easy with you. Organic, authentic, safe... I was afraid to ruin that, destroy the rapport and friendship we've established. I care about you so much, I just wanted you in my life - no matter what variation that was. Being just my friend, being my girl, just want you with me. Didn't want to jeopardize anything."

"Hm," you considered, nodding slowly, "I get that. Think I felt something similar..."

"So, what do we do?"

"I think we be adults about this," you offered. "If you just want to be friends, we'll stay friends, Fi, but we don't blur lines like we have been. And if you want to give this - us - a try, I think we could. 'Cause you're you, and I'm me, and if things don't work out, we can just go back. Right? Adults do that sorta thing, don't they?"

"Not entirely sure, don't feel like an adult most days," he breathed, petting his fingertips down your cheek. "But I know I want this, with you. I swear, since you came into my life, I've felt - " He paused, shaking his head with a growing smile, "Free? Elated? Light as air?"

"Mhm, I know the feeling," you repeated.

"We doin' this?"

"That's up to you."

"I think it's up to us, actually - "

"I mean, you've gotta ask, Fi, not just assume."

"If you reject me in my own house, in my own bed, doll, I'm gonna be fucking crushed!"

"Oh, my God, just ask me! You fucking knobhead!" You laughed, leaning your head on his chest. His other arm moved behind his head to keep it propped up, looking at you with so much adoration, it knotted your stomach. The hand that had been in your hair drifted down to keep a secure hold on your waist; fingers scratching in soothing motions.

"Wanna be my girl?"

"Hmm, I think you could phrase it better."

He grinned brightly, "Would you be my girlfriend?"

"Oh, that's a little too formal. Maybe try - "

"Oh, c'mere, you," he growled, swiftly using both arms to seize under your arms and literally drag you up his body. "C'mon, baby," he whispered, lips ghosting yours, "be my baby."

"Fuck, no, that's way too cheesy!"

"I thought you liked me cheesy?" He gaped, your hand petting his cheek now; shoulders straining to keep you upright, over him.

"Correction, I love you cheesy," you whispered, lowering your head to press a quick kiss to his lips. He hummed in relief, but you pulled back to promise, "I'd love to be your girl, Fi. Only took you the whole bloody school year, didn't it?"

"Hey, good things to those who wait, right?"

"Don't quote Professor Mercy at me when we're in bed with barely anything on, Jesus fucking Christ," you grumbled, unable to restrain your grin when he pulled you in for another kiss - but this time, stealing the breath right out of your lungs.

Maybe getting lost in Saltburn was more beneficial than you originally thought, and maybe Professor Mercy and ages of philosophy was right because this felt like the absolute best thing, and you'd wait a hundred lifetimes if it meant having Felix in your arms - like he was now, kissing you like it was his lifeline.

How extraordinarily warm, you felt, to be lost in this world, in this extraordinary home, and found, by Felix fucking Catton.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[venmondiese]

Anxiety Relieving Purposes

✧ part 1: stress relieving purposes ✧

Summary: Exam week has arrived so you have a another brilliant idea for you and Aemond. Seeing him full of dread and anxiety, you think of the best way of calming him.

✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, free use, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), no protection, creampie, slight breeding kink, slight (not so slight) size kink, fingering, aemond being a tease. ✧Word Count: 6.7k ✧Note: so..... aemond's exam is fully here!! and all the things he studied are things that I AM studying at the moment so yeah #studying and writing. I have weeks FULL of things, and may seems (at the moment) very empty, so I will try to work on my wips there!!

The day of the famous exam, Aemond was outside the classroom, as he waited for his name to be called. His turn was near at 16:15 pm, so he came with anticipation, as the professor asked for them to wait in case a space was available for whatever reason. 

14:01, his expensive watch said. It was his grandfather’s, and he asked his father to give it to him, ignoring the fact that he conveniently asked when his father was high on medications, but that was another thing. He even wore that seven pointed star necklace his mum gave to him, so the Gods may be with him. 

This class was brutal, and he knew it. He knew very well when he enrolled with this particular professor. It was hard, but you learnt everything. And he, the pretentious ambitious little shit that he was, did it willingly. 

He should have listened to you. Your exam? To start, it wasn’t even oral like this one, and you could take your notes to the exams, because it was mostly rational and analytical thinking. Have you learned much? No, but you were passing.

And it wasn’t like he got bad grades, in fact he was one of the brilliant few people in the class. The thing is that this particular exam was valued at 40% whereas the rest of papers and exams were barely over 15%. If someone failed this one it was the end. 

He took a drag of his cigarette, leaning over the open window of the hallway, so the smell of cigarette wasn’t so evident. He wanted to do this oral exam as quickly as possible, so he was waiting like a vulture around the classroom.

When a single hand covers his only functioning eye, he sighs as he smokes, rolling his eye under your hand.

“Guess who!” It is your animated voice, and even without saying anything, he’d know it was you.

“You little shit” He says, taking your hand off. “You really just covered one of my eyes?”

As he turns, he sees you holding a bucket of fried chicken, and he has to smirk. 

“Well, I had to hold your lunch with the other hand, duh.” You say smugly, almost proud of this little surprise for him. “You know that five cigarettes do not count as lunch?”

“It does when you are anxious. And about to throw up” He adds, as he looks a bit at the closed door of the auditory, and he sighs. 

Your smug smile softens, and you leave the bucket of food on the near table, and you wrap your arms around him, as he decides to kill his cigarette on the ashtray, to wrap his arms around you as well.

“You’ll do fine” You whisper, assuring him of it. “And the professor will be so surprised that he’ll stand up and do a public ovation for you” You add teasingly. 

“That’s so…” He says giggling at the idea, his tight stomach feels more at ease at your silly jokes. “Stupid”

“It is in the future.” You say, convinced “And he’ll immediately give you a doctorate, and then you’ll work and maintain me, of course.” 

He chuckles amused, rubbing you back as he looks where your chin rests against his chest, looking up to him. “And I’ll do that willingly? Oh gods, maybe I’ll fail the exam, then”

You laugh as you hit the side of his left rib, and he tightens his embrace slightly.

“I’ll pay you well” You say nodding.

“How so?”

“I’ll clean the house, and I’ll be your pretty maid which from occasion to occasion sucks your dick”

“I think I'll be better if you become my personal sex slave” he whispers with a smug smirk, and he feels your hand slapping the side of his rib again. “Because you are already my slut, no?”

“Imbecile. And look at me, buying you lunch. Fried chicken, the spicy one that you like.” You add the last thing, separating from his hug as you cross your arms. “Men are disgusting, they want only one thing” You dramatise as he laughs at your words.

“Fine, fine… we’ll eat the fried chicken. You’ll feed me yourself?”

“You are insane if you think…” Your voice trails off as you see how his smile fades and he tilts his head to watch the students leaving the auditory.

You turn to watch the scene, a girl clearly crying as she makes her way to the bathroom. Baela comes out of the classroom, slightly defeated, with another student. One of the assistants of the professor closes the door, so they discuss the answers immediately. 

Aemond walks hushedly next to Baela, as you grab the bucket to follow him. You can see how his body is tense, walking hushedly and full of anxiety.

“How did it go?” Aemond joins the conversation as Baela is the first of the group to get out, and you see Cregan and Jace get close too, along with other fellow students.

“It fucked me” Baela admits shaking her head.

You can feel the anxiety along the group, and you stand next to Aemond, looking at him as he places a hand on his mouth as if to think what the hell and how the fuck he will get over this.

“What did they ask you?” You dare to ask.

“ How biopower by Foucault could relationate with Deleuze and Guattari’s… notion of desiring-production, how the concepts contribute to the understanding of modern forms of governance and subjectivity as seen in class.” She says and everyone looked extremely horrified by the question itself. 

“Holy fuck” Jace mutters.

“And Moeria? What about her? She left crying..” Cregan says as he looks at Baela.

 “ How Foucault’s disciplinary power intersects with Judith Butler’s performativity? With examples from each perspective and respective works… and how they work together, something like that”

“That was easy!” Aemond says, frustrated, because he wasn’t the one to get that question. You see how his own hand starts picking on his cuticles, and breaking his nails in anxiousness.

“Fucking Foucault…” Jace murmurs as he sighs horrified. 

You can see how Aemond’s hand trembled slightly, he was as well horrified. He’d told you, there were only 40 questions, randomly selected. He had to study hard, read like five books just to get asked one question. And when the easiest left, only the hard ones left for the ones at the very end.

“Let’s eat” You say, taking his hand, and he looks at you, with uncertainty in his eyes, as he nods slightly. He was anxious, you could see. “Destroying your hands won’t leave you at ease… Food might” You add with a gentle smile.

He nodded, sighing as he was tired. You exchanged slight awkward looks with Cregan as he waved his hand to you and you smiled politely, before walking away with Aemond. 

“I could have answered that one…” He whines as you two walk downstairs to eat. “It was far too easy. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” You ask just to leave him let all out. 

“If you add Foucault's insights into disciplinary power with Butler's theory of performativity, you get this more… full understanding of how social control operates through the regulation of bodies and identities! Together you can see the…the complex interplay that there is always is between power, discourse, and subjectivity in… shaping the understanding of self and society.” He says frustrated, as he follows you.

“Well, do not worry. Maybe you’ll get Foucault as you so adore him.”

“I swear that if someone else gets something about the panopticon… I will kill myself” 

“You won’t kill yourself over that”

“I’ll get the easiest top mark ever” He says very seriously about it. “It’s so easy I learned it when I was like two years old”

“You are over exaggerating, Aemond” You say as you both walk to the outside of the building, as you find a bench for you two to sit. “Relax”

“It is not in my nature”

“Believe me when I say that I know that” You say as you pat your side for him to sit. “That’s why I brought the best fried chicken ever.” As you open the bucket, he leans slightly as he puts some alcohol gel on his hands, ready to eat. He was starving, between the ball of anxiousness stuck on his stomach. “It is not as warm, but…”

“It could be cold, but I’d love it anyway because you brought them for me.” He says looking at you “You don’t even have classes today”

“No, I do not. That’s the thing when you are just the best student in class, you tend to approve earlier than the rest…”

“Oh, shush” He says as he grabs one and he makes a delighted moan as he eats it. “It’s so good. I needed this”

“The food or me?”

He rolls his eye, but lowkey, he knows that the answer is you. 

You two enjoy the food together, as you try to lighten up his mood. He is still very tense, his shoulders do not seem slightly as ease, and he was still trying to destroy his cuticles.

You look at his face. He looks slightly off. Aemond, who was very much perfectionist on his appearance, seems not to have cared enough these days. It felt like that, you knew. Studying hard so that you pass the appropriate time to bath, eat or sleep. 

The thing with Aemond is that he is utterly obsessive. A perfectionist at heart, and he likes things to do as he planned. Gives him security and confidence, and he always gave his whole soul to something so important for him. You sigh with a smile, as you feel bad for him as he seems so unease.

You lean to kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to look at you, getting out of his dissociated state. “Huh?”

Your eyebrows go up as if to ask him what he meant, as you smile. 

“What was that for?”

“I think you needed it” You say as he rolls his eye amused, leaving the empty bucket away. He looks at you, the university mostly empty, since most of the people already passed their classes and did not attend further, like you. He surely was lucky to have you, if it weren’t for you he’d surely still miss Alys. He does miss her sometimes, but after a long talk with you, he realises that she is not that worth it. But feelings don’t go away that easily, but it is clearly not love 

“Huh. What I need is a divine illumination right now” He says looking at his clock. 14:37.

“You need to calm your anxiety” You state, taking his hand on yours, and smiling at him. “Look at me.” He sighs, rolling his eyes, but he turns his body a bit to face you properly. “You know this. You read the whole books, and you knew all of it. You will nail this. There is no one here who knows the answer as you do.”

“You are far too kind” He says, his lips slightly curving. “And too good for my ego” he adds.

“Idiot. You see, you’ll end up like the assistants of the professor.”

“ I wish” he says dramatically. “The blonde one passed the exam with a hundred. Maybe she was asked about the panopticon. I swear it is so easy, I made an essay about 1984 and the whole theory of it.” he murmurs, still grumpy as he crosses his arms. “You know, there is a theory that she fucked the professor for it.”

You love good gossip, and you raise your eyebrows as your smirk is very much amused.

“Oh, is that so?”

“I mean, probably comes from envy and misogyny” he adds, rolling his eyes. “But If you get asked the easiest question…”

“Maybe you should fuck the professor as well.” you tease as he laughs a bit, less tense as his whole body moves at the amusement. 

You look at him for a brief moment, as the thought lingers in your mind for a moment. You look at him, and a very bad idea forms in your mind. Bad, but… fruitful.

You look at him, he was still tense, but less than before. His right left bounced slightly, and you looked at how huge his thigh looked against yours, even sitting on the same bench. 

You knew Aemond went to the gym almost daily, and he was very much into it, it was just his (other) way to relieve stress. He always talked about it, and you remember the occasion at Jacaerys’ sevenmas party when he and Jason Lannister had the brilliant idea to compete about who could do more pull ups without dying.

You have to press your thighs together at the memory of it. He was sweaty, and you remembered him gruting, and exhaling profoundly as he kept going. Because if Aemond was one thing, it was competitive. 

And he was more than willing to keep going with anyone who dared to challenge him. He went round after round, and you were like his personal spotter as he tried to win everyone. Sure, after going on several rounds with different people he had to back away.

You remember you and him laying on the couch as he expressed his body and arms burning from the sting. Back then, it wasn’t as arousing as it is now.

“I have just the right idea to help you” you say looking at him, as you already feel aroused. God, he was unaware of the lustful feelings he provoked in you.

“Oh gods.” Aemond says, turning to look at you. “How long will this bad idea take? I have like hour and a half”

 “It depends. Not much, I think. Well, this time, at least” You say with a giggle, and he looks at you puzzled. And you lean slightly closer. “I think you’ll like it”

Aemond blinks, as he is not sure what this idea entails.

“you have such bad ideas” he groans and you slap his arm as you chuckle.

“Hey! I have great ideas” 

“The last idea you had to help me was… were two actually. The first one being setting me up with Floris Baratheon and you with Cregan to use sex to destress”

“And? Did it go wrong??” You say.

“Your idea, yes. My idea, no. Which I remind you, was us sleeping together. Because it was my idea and I want the credit” he says smirking smugly. 

“But it was thanks to my idea”

“And the second one” he ignores your weak attempt to recover credit. “Were you cockwarming me as I read Foucault” he states amused. 

“Foucault would have loved that idea.” You say crossing your arms.

“it was a bad idea, admit it” he says amused looking at you. 

“Oh, so you aren’t in for cockwarming?” 

“No, I didn't say that” he says amused at how you turn the table on him. “I meant studying while you look so delightful, and your pussy warms my cock” he whispers slowly to you with a smirk “and you expect me to be okay with that and just read Foucault?” 

“Okay. But this one is good” you say smiling “Hear me out” 

Aemond rolls his eyes amused, but he sits back as he hears you, with an endearing smile as he does so. 

“You and I could… you know, we could relieve stress again” 

Aemond blinks slightly put off, and he looks at you.

“Like right now?”

“When else you’d be this stressed?” You ask as if he was stupid.

“Well, apologies for being rational and full of moments of stress” Aemond says “Besides, there are no places…”

“The bathroom, an empty class-”

“No places” He insists again, as if turning away your proposal. “And they’ll kick us out. And reading those books will be worthless.”

“They practically sucked your family dick for you to get in, Aemond. They won’t kick you out. Aegon probably did it…”

“Don’t compare us to Aegon-” 

“And he is still here, after changing like three times his career and failing all the classes.” you add nodding.

“I am not the one who won’t enter anywhere else”

“HEY!” you say slapping his arm as he laughs, and he passes an arm in your waist to scoop you closer as you cross your arms and look away in pride. “and the fool just wants to help you”

Aemond chuckles, as his face kisses your cheek, but you still look away, stubbornly. 

“I am joking, love” Aemond says softly, and he leans to kiss you neck softly. “We could do that”

“No, now I don’t want to” 

“You are being a brat…” he says mockingly, still smiling, and his arm around you keeps you pressed against him, as his hand rubs slightly your waist. “Come on. Don’t you wanna help me destress? Don’t you want my cock in your pretty pussy?” He whispers in your ear, placing his left hand on your thigh.

Sincerely, fuck him, because you immediately turn to look at him, and he knows how to push your buttons. He looks at you with the corners of his lips slightly turned up, as he nods softly. 

He is a little shit, persuading you to follow him to the bathroom. It was merely an idea, you knew he’d make fun from it, but not after that, he would take it to heart. 

You walk across the campus, almost empty from people that simply finished their courses or they were in class right now. And he holds your hand firmly as you head to the bathroom.

On campus, there were multiple bathrooms, but only one gender neutral bathroom. You two used to joke that this is were one came to fuck or get high. And no one really used them, as weird as it was. They weren’t always functional, and the doors tend to get stuck. But the mayor plus, is that they weren’t really dirty, nor people would come in.

Aemond leaves his backpack on the hanger inside the cubicle and you frown slightly. He didn’t bring his usual leather bag, and you point it out.

“I will go to the gym after this. I have my towel and my clothes” He explains softly, closing the door behind you and you hand your little purse too. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t as luxurious to have a bed.

“Okay. How do we…” you move your hands trying to see how the fuck you’ll do it. “I mean, I didn’t think how…”

“I don’t think anyone thinks before having sex, darling.” He says looking at the clean bathroom, it was better than anything. The floor was clean, and Aemond could see their reflections on the black shiny tiles. “Hm.” Aemond says, looking at you. “I have a few ideas…”

“You are still tense” you say looking at how his shoulder tense up. You move your hands to caress his shoulders, and look at him “Don’t be”

“It’s like telling a sad person just not to be”

You roll your eyes, and shake your head with annoyance. “Shut up.” 

You two remain silent, as if thinking how. You had a toilet, a sink and lots of hope. 

“It feels like… too dirty” you look up to him.

“Yes.” He agrees, as you two look at eachother. “We certainly don’t have to. I’ll be fine, you know. I appreciate…”

“No” you cut him immediately. “I’ll do it.” You insist, shaking your head at his proposals. “You look… honestly, terrible”

“Ah, thanks for the support” he says rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms. 

“It’s hot” you insist, as you grab his forehand to uncross his arms. You move his arms to place them around your waist, as you walk closer to him, looking up to him. “Seeing you all stressed and tense…” 

Aemond arches his left eyebrow, as his hand finds its way to your waist, holding you. He had no idea how you could lust him as you spoke how emaciated he was, but it was working.  

He smelled like coffee and cigarettes, and you smiled at him. Your hands caressed his chest, his pectorals were something else, as he looked at you, intrigued.

“I have to do something about it” you insist, looking up to him, your hands caressing his abdomen softly. “So… tell me what to do”

Aemond looks at you. His cock was already stirring, he could feel how he was growing on his pants, hard and needy. It is a slow torture, to be sure.

“Surprise me..” he says without really thinking. 

“No..” you shake your head. “You are very stressed, and it is a very important moment for you. You need to… relieve that stress. And I… allow you to use my body how you see fit. However you see fit. ” 

Aemond blinks, a bit baffled by such a proposal. Sure, the bathrooms weren't the ideal place for this, but his cock didn't think the same now, not when you were willing to please his tastes completely, and let him use your body to his liking. 

You move your hands to unbelt his pants, slowly as his hand loosen its grip on your waist, and look at your face as you seem so eager to see once again his cock.  

“Are you hard?” You ask softly, a rhetorical question as you feel his cock against his underwear, and you look up to him as you palm him a bit.

“Yeah” he murmurs, his voice like a grunt. 

“Want me to suck your dick?” 

Aemond takes a deep breath, as the corners of his mouth seem to go slightly up. He is getting annoyed at your teasing, but not the bad type of annoyed. The type of annoyed when you “behave like a brat” as he puts it, and he enjoys keeping you in line.

Whenever you insist on skipping class, he has to keep a close eye on you. If you insist on trying to get with someone which is no good for you, he has to keep you by his side. When you want to do something reckless, he stops you, a hand steady on your waist. 

“You know the answer” he says softly.

“Yes” your smile is cheeky as you move your shoulders “so?” 

Aemond sighs, his hands rubbing your arms and shoulder. “Yes. I want you to suck my dick” he says simply, and you smile a bit. “But I am sure you want to have my cock as well. Badly” he adds. 

You smile at him, and nod, feigning innocence.

“Then kneel”

“Floor is dirty” you remind him with a smirk. “Not the best-”

“Kneel on my feet.” he does not hesitate. “Won’t be dirty at all. You like being at my feet, don’t you?”

Your cheeks slightly burn from the remark. You look at him, and he looks nothing but smug.  You sometimes really hate him.

His boots are perfectly clean, you can picture him cleaning every little detail of his outfit so he looks presentable and even more perfect for his exam. It is both endearing and hot.

Your knees go to rest on his shoes. A bit uncomfortable, a bit too close. Forced proximity to his crotch, as he pulled his boxers down. 

You look up to him as your mouth salivates at the sight, his cock fat, big and swollen, getting harder by the second. It hits his own abdomen, tall and proud. 

You accommodate a bit your knees on his shoes, making sure it doesn’t hurt him for you to place your weight on his feet. Yet he doesn’t seem even fazed by that.

“Go on” he murmurs, moving some hairs out of your face, as he leans for his back to rest against the cold ceramic wall. He looks at you, his arousal growing as you press your lips to the base of his cock to kiss it, and you basically are taking your time for it, his face pressed against his cock as you leave little kisses on his base, going all up to his tip.

The weight of your knees on his feet is slightly uncomfortable, but he is too aroused, that it only fuels his lust for you. 

“We don’t have all the time” he murmurs, taking your hair to guide you.

“You don’t rush art-”

“Come on” he grunts as his fist is more tight to your hair. “You said I could use you as I wish. So shut up and take it” 

God damn you if it didn’t turn you on.

His grip on your hair was firm, as his other hand went to rest at the top of your neck, holding your jaw. You are forced to have his dick on your mouth and the plus was that you could see his face perfectly.

At first, he lets you accommodate his cock on your mouth. He holds you, as if guiding you to it. You don’t have to do anything but be pretty, and open your mouth. And of course, taking his massive cock on your throat. 

You look at him with glossy eyes as he has his way in your throat, gently, holding you softly and soothing you, making you more receptive to all. 

“Shhhh, there, you are doing so good” His soothing voice comes in a low voice, as he has that pleased expression on his face, biting his lower lip as you swallow more and more of his cock. “So pretty”

It comes as a praise, as his hand gently caresses softly your throat as you take him well , making you maintain your head tilted up so his cock can slide perfectly down your throat, little by little, forcing you to keep it wide and open all for him.  

He lets a low groan, his grip hesitates, between becoming more firm or looser. He guides your  movements as you take him deeper. His cheeks are slightly red, his own mouth is open, panting to suppress the moans and grunts; his brows furrowed in pleasure as his eye is transfixed by the sight of you; his cock disappearing into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his mouth. 

“Fuck…” He barely can form the sentence, more like a pant, and he still tries to be quiet, his hips start thrusting in your mouth, keeping your head still for him to use however he pleases. However he wants. Utterly at his mercy.

Once his cock hits the back of your throat, he starts bucking his hips up roughly. He holds your head, a tight and firm grip as he pumps his dick in and out. 

“So hot” He breathes out, “Taking my dick like this” He says, as if the mere thought aroused him more. 

You gurgle on his cock, the head of it hitting your throat, and you try to remain quiet. The gagging sounds are nothing but obscene, and they resonate in the bathroom halls. 

You look up to him, and you let him use you. Even if you can’t breathe, even if your throat will be sore- gods, even if they catch you. Why? Easy.

Aemond seems more relaxed. He seems at ease, as his chest rises and falls as he pants, his face in a contorned expression full of pleasure, as his hand presses against your throat; the other still on your hair. He grips slightly your throat and can even feel the small bulge his cock makes on its way down. 

And you’d give anything to always see him this at ease. He is not relaxed; by nature. He tends to obsess, he tends to think and rethink things. He is hardly a person who goes by hedonistic ways, that enjoys leisure. 

But this? You might always be on your knees, fully open and available for him. And you have the faintest impression that you both know it. 

“Fuck” He pants again, trying to keep his voice no louder than a mer murmur. “You feel me here? I’m all the way down, baby” He says, his hand gripping at the end of your jaw and beginning of your throat. He stops his thrust, and you swallow a bit, squeezing him. He moans, shamelessly. 

You look up to him, and nod softly; as you can do so. He smirks and nods, his lips open as the hand on your hair moves to move some hairs out of your forehead.

“It does… It does help” He says, grinning a bit, out of breath. “I don’t want to… cum, but neither to pull away.”

Your hands move to his thighs, and you look up to him. He loves the sight of you. You begged for him to use you, and that thought drives him feral insane. 

“I’ll fuck you” He says as he pulls out, and he leans to take you by your armpits to keep you on foot. He moves your long skirt all the way up, and his smirk lets you know that he has no plans of stopping. 

“Yeah, yeah” You say without breath.

“I was not asking” he says as he grabs you, and he presses your back against the door, moving his hips closer, so you don’t have another option but to wrap your legs around his waist.

As his hands move to try to move your panties to the side, you look at him, and almost in a moment of clarity you murmur. 

“Against the door is a bad idea, it will creak” You complain, but Aemond roll his eye at annoyance.

“Shut up” he murmurs “You say that I could use you, so you don’t get a say in this. If I want to fuck you like this, you’ll take it”

You blink, and he looks up to face you. He is so enjoying this, his grin is smug, and his eyebrows are slightly frowning as if asking you to defy him.

“Yes, sir” You murmur, slightly playfully, and slightly not playfully.

He hums, and nods. He is pleased with your answer. 

“Soaked wet” he smirks as his fingers trace your panties. “It could be freezing cold, and you’ll still use these damn skirts, hm?”

“Always in hopes you’ll bend me over” You say softly, and he chuckles a bit. He moves to kiss your lips, as his fingers move your panties to the side, and moves his fingers slowly inside. 

His scent is driving you more feral, cigarettes and coffee, he is pested on it. Maybe he had like three coffees to keep himself up, and cigarettes to calm himself down. His perfume is strong, and you knew he liked to have those masculine scents, but the ones who smelt good, and you loved his perfume. 

He pushes his fingers in and out, and you gasp on his mouth, your hips trying to move as he keeps you pressed against the door. It is utterly naughty, you know it.

“You ruined me” he murmurs against your neck, placing kisses there. “When I’ll be answering that question, that I studied so hard for… I’ll be imagining you sucking my dick.”

You whimper slightly, feeling full of him. Being full of him, of his fingers. He fucks you, preparing you for his cock.

“I missed this pretty pussy, this tiny hole of yours.” He says, his other hand wrapping around your waist to keep you still, and helping you not fall. “So wet for me. Are you always wet when you are around me? Wearing your most provocative outfits for me?”

“Yes” You admit as you blush a bit. He reads you like an open book.

“Fool of me to ask that. In my eyes, all your outfits are provocative. All your outfits make me wanna stuff you on my cock, and have you crying of pleasure” He murmurs against your neck, and he decides that a hickey will decorate your neck just fine. 

You whimper, squeezing his fingers as his hot mouth sucks against the skin of your neck, and you squirm slightly on his arms. You drive him insane, and after a while he is satisfied, moving away to inspect his art.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard” He says, breathless as his thumb move over then hickey. 

His promises are never empty, as you feel his cock entering your cunt in a swift motion. It is not your first time taking him, but every time feels better than the last. 

You squirm trying to get in a better position against the door, but he keeps you still in the position he wants. You wrap an arm around his neck for better stability, as his hips start to buck against you, using his grip on your waist to move you up and down on his cock. 

Gods, he is so strong, you know it. He is holding all your weight as he fucks you, each thrust, your back hits the door, making it creak and grate, every thrust hitting it softly. It is so obscene, yet it arouses you more. His strong arms around you, his muscles against your body. It arouses you more than it should, feeling your body against his firm chest, as he fucks you.

His head moves back to your neck, to the other side, barely over your clavicle to make another hickey. He is full hands-on, hitting your ass softly as he uses you, as his cock pounds your cunt over and over. 

“You like when I use you? When I fuck you how I want?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I love it…” You whimper as you feel the little kiss he leaves over your hickey. 

“You love it, I know, baby” He says, his other arm going to your waist, now wrapped up and holding you close against his chest, moving you up and down on his cock.

You mewl at the change of position, you don’t care how much your shoulders accidentally hit the door, you just want for him to…

It hits you like a cold bucket of water.

“We are not using a condom” you murmur, and his thrusts stop a bit, his head looking up to face you. He didn’t realise the fact either.

You two blink at each other, and he waits for you to continue. 

“You should cum inside and we’ll try our luck” you say softly, and his hands grip on your waist tighter.

“Fuck yes…” He breathes out, the thought drives insane, and by how he is fucking you harder, you know it.

You lean softly, your breasts against his neck as you lean your head closer to his ear. “You’ll give that exam while I am leaking your cum” 

Up and down, he moves you, the filthy sound of your ass against his flesh, and he moans, more desperate to cum. Your cunt squeezes a bit, his cock is sliding against your walls in a delicious way, and you are becoming too overwhelmed by the size of him too, how the head manages to grind your sweet spot and how he is grunting against your ear.

His thumb rubs back and forth against your clit. Your jaw drops, as you feel yourself cumming from how much he is doing to you, how he magically knows all secrets to make you melt on his cock. It is almost as magical as you know his secrets too.

You milking his cock has to be one of his favourite newfound discoveries. Maybe his new favourite hobby. Your cunt squeezing his cock, as if making sure his balls go empty, releasing himself in you with such determination, that maybe it’ll get you pregnant. And that thought, to his horny head, does not bother him. 

He holds you still, impaled on his cock as he cums inside you, nuzzling his head on the curve of your neck to drunk himself on your scent. It calms him, to be sure. And he loves it. Familiar, sweet and cosy. As if it was home for him.

You two share lazy kisses, as he has no problem holding you still. You smile, your hands resting against his strong shoulders, and he eventually pulls out and leaves you safely on your foot again. 

“I have another idea” You say smiling to him.

“Gotta give it to you, this idea wasn’t bad. So I am hearing you out” He says as he takes a small towel from his bag, wiping some of the sweat on his neck and you smirk mischievously.

Your hand goes to your panties, taking them out and presenting them to him. They are still soaked wet, and you smile proudly at your idea.

“What?” He asks frowning, but slightly amused.

“Like a lucky charm” 

He looks at you in disbelief before he starts laughing a bit. 

“What?” It is your turn to ask him.

“That is such a… silly idea” 

“Think about it! You can keep it with you when you answer the questions.”

“Darling, that is… Your bad ideas made a comeback, eh?” He teases you, saving the towel on his bag and you take the opportunity to hit his chest again.

“Fine.” You say “Don’t take them”

“I didn’t say I was not gonna take them as my lucky charm. I just said it was silly” he says, taking your panties from your hands, and putting them in his pocket. 

“Pervert” you murmur amused, turning around to unlock the door of the bathroom, which he totally uses to slap your ass, in which you whine “Aemond!”

You two get out as quickly as you can, no one seems at sight. You look at yourself in the mirror and scrunch your face at seeing your state.

“Look at what you-” you start but you both turn to look at the person who just walked in.

As they move to take some of the toilet paper, with a stuffy nose, Aemond moves closer to you, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly as you feel them side-eye you both. No words were spoken, but it was awkward. 

Once they go away, you and Aemond share a look.

“Pff, that was close” You try to break the tension.

“It wasn’t close. You look absolutely fucked.” His hand moves to comb your hair, as some crazy locks were out of place. He? Looked divine and perfect as always. “And the hickeys don’t help your case”

“How am I supposed to go out with those things in my neck? Gods” you say, a hand rubbing the hickey as if they would disappear with that. “And I have to buy the pill-”

“Yeah” he says, pressing his lips together as he tries to suppress a smile. “Well, to be fair it was your idea.”

“I totally forced you to it” You roll your eyes as you two walk out of the bathroom and back to the waiting hall.

“Hm” He says amused. “I am innocent”

You both wait seated, with other of his classmates around. He does not engage, he is obviously tense and anxious, but at the same time, it is not eating him alive as before. 

You feel proud of that. He was an anxious mess, and thanks to you he was well fed and got to release all his worries on you, and your cunt. And for that, you smile. 

You can see Cregan wandering around with Jace, and you don’t care about him anymore. Sure, he was still hot as hell, but with Aemond near, you just lean your head on his shoulder and he rubs his nervous hand on your waist.

“Aemond Targaryen” His name is called out, and you stand along with him, taking his hand along yours. 

Before he goes in, with his other two classmates, you stop him, to kiss him sweetly. Your hands cup his face, and you have to be on your tiptoes to reach his lips properly. 

“They’ll ask you about Foucault” You murmur on his lips, as he looks at you, nervous but dumbfounded. “And you’ll nail this” 

That reassurance makes him smile, leaving a small peck on your lips before going in. Being asked about the Panopticon, being the top of his class and being assistant seem second hand worries as he knows that you’ll be waiting for him once he comes out from the exam. You’ll always be his lucky charm. 

[karajaynetoday]

and i'd give up forever to touch you, cause i know that you'd feel me somehow | jack hughes

Thank you for all the love on hey now, you're an all-star - i am honestly blown away by those notes!! here is a part two. let me know what you think, and what your predictions or desires are for a potential part three! xo

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings:  nothing major. uni stress again, jack being a bit of a dick. angst. all of the angst.

(This is a fem reader insert) read part one here read the part three here

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

Waking up was always slightly disorienting for you, and the next morning was no different.

Your dreams could be quite vivid, or you couldn’t remember them at all once you awoke; but the first thing you could sense on this particular morning was the strong scent of coffee wafting through the room. As your eyes adjusted to the morning light streaming in the windows, you became suddenly and painfully aware that you were alone on the couch. A blanket had been draped over you at some stage of your slumber, but Jack was nowhere to be seen.

You sat up slowly, rubbing your face, trying to ignore the anxiety that was building in your chest. You could hear a shower running, somewhere in the hotel suite, and hastily threw the blanket off your body as you scanned the room for your belongings.

Shoes. Where were your shoes? And phone? Keys? Did you bring a bag with you? What time was it? What time did your class start? Would you be able to get an Uber to Campus in time? Wait, was your class online or on campus this morning?

Your brain was churning out a thousand thoughts a minute, and your heart rate was starting to match it. You felt like a deer in headlights. Or a cat under a rocking chair. Or… just… lost. You were so lost.

Someone cleared their throat behind you and you jolted, whipping around to face Quinn, who was decked out in a brown leather jacket and grey pants, holding two steaming coffee mugs in his hands.

You must have looked distressed, because Quinn offered you a gentle smile and one of the mugs which you cautiously accepted.

“Thanks, Q. I really should get going soon, though. Get out of your hair before the big draft day circus arrives.” Your voice was still slightly groggy with sleep.

“Take as long as you need, sugarplum. Our call time isn’t for another two hours. Jack’s in the shower, and he’d hate it if you left without saying goodbye.” Quinn raised his eyebrows at you as you both took a sip of coffee.

“Watching Jack try and untangle himself from you on the couch did provide me with my morning entertainment though. Surprised he didn’t end up with another injury given how clumsy he usually is.” You felt your cheeks get warm at Quinn’s comment and the smirk on his face.

“He could’ve just woken me up…” You offered weakly, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance.

“No offence, but that was a risk that neither of us are willing to take. Not after last summer.” Quinn bit back a laugh as you narrowed your eyes at him.

Last summer at the lake house, you’d stayed up all night trying to finish the latest novel in your favourite fiction series. Jack had come into your room to wake you for the boat day you’d discussed the day before, but instead of a gentle approach to waking you up, he’d literally jumped onto your bed. Which caused you to sit bolt upright and “accidentally” punch him in the face. At least he thought the black eye made him look tough for a couple of weeks.

“Nice jacket, by the way.” You tried to change the subject.

Quinn stood up straight and puffed out his chest.

“You think so? Jack and I got to go down to Hermés and pick out our outfits yesterday. I felt suuuuper out of my league to be honest.”

Your eyes widened at the brand name Quinn just dropped, slightly choking on your coffee.

“Hermés? That’s proper designer, Q. Like, tens of thousands of dollars of jacket, right?”

Quinn didn’t answer you, but he didn’t have to. The look on his face told you that the jacket he was wearing was worth more than six months of your rent. Maybe more.

“Well, we have to do this red carpet thing, and I figured we should probably try a bit harder than team merch.” Quinn reached over and tugged playfully on the sleeve of your hoodie.

Well, Jack’s hoodie. That you happened to be wearing. Which was previously super comfortable, but now felt like your skin was on fire underneath it.

“What time is it, anyway?” There you go again, changing the subject.

“Like, 9.15?” Quinn offered, pulling his phone out of his pocket and showing you the time on his home screen.

9.15? Why was that important to you? What was at 9.15?

The test. In your economics class. Worth a decent chunk of your grade. It was at 9.30am. But was it online or on campus?

You downed the rest of your coffee in one gulp, ignoring how it burned your throat, and thrust your mug back at Quinn before tugging the hoodie over your head and throwing it on the floor. You turned around, searching wildly for your phone and spotting it on the couch where you’d been sleeping, not that long ago. You lunged for it, frantically unlocked and trying to find your university schedule in the calendar app.

“Oh thank god. It’s online. Holy fuck.” You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself down.

“Sugar? You okay?” Jack’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you looked up from your phone to see him standing in the doorway to his room.

Clad in black jeans, with a towel around his shoulders and his hair still damp from the shower. Shirtless. Of course he was shirtless. You squeezed your eyes shut out of instinct, and also to stop yourself from blatantly checking him out. When you opened them, Jack was striding towards you, his face etched in concern.

“What do you need?” Jack spoke quietly, but firmly, reaching out to rub your arms reassuringly. His touch sent a zap of electricity through you, which seemed to kick your brain back into gear.

“I need… Do you have a laptop I can borrow? I have an online test in 15 minutes that I forgot about, for a subject I’m almost failing, and if I miss the test then I don’t know that I’ll be able to recover my grade.” You half-whispered, almost wishing that Jack and Quinn couldn’t hear your confession out loud.

You were supposed to be the smart one. That’s what everyone said, when you were growing up. You were the brains, Jack was the beauty. You were the bookish one, he was the brutally athletic one. Talking about failing university out loud was suddenly terrifying, even though you’d known it was a possibility for a few weeks or more.

“Hey… hey.” Jack squeezed your arms, trying to centre you, and dropped his head down to your eye level. “It’s okay. I’ve got a laptop you can use, and you can stay here for as long as you need.”

All you could muster was a nod in response, and Jack leaned in to kiss your forehead before disappearing back into his room, presumably to find his laptop. You sat back down on the couch, suddenly unsure of what to do with yourself.

Quinn had briefly left to place your coffee mug in the kitchenette, but he was back and leaned over the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder.

“You’ll smash it, kiddo. Make sure you ask Jack what his laptop password is though, I’d hate for you to get locked out during your test.” Quinn said quietly, before his phone rang and he stepped into his room to answer it.

“Here you go, sunshine. Fully charged, but the charger is in my room if you need it.” Jack was back in the living room, handing his laptop to you, already logged in and a web browser open for you.

You stood up from the couch and moved towards the dining table, setting the laptop down and pulling out a chair. It only took a minute to log into your university portal and navigate to the subject page you needed for the online test. You were about to click the start button, when Quinn’s comment flashed in your mind.

“Jack?” You squeaked, turning to face the couch where Jack had flopped down moments before. Still clad in black jeans, still fucking shirtless, absolutely ignorant of the effect he was having on your ability to breathe calming, mindlessly scrolling on his phone.

“What’s up?”

“What’s… what’s your password? In case I get locked out and you’re not here? Could you write it down for me please?”    You reached for the hotel notepad and complimentary pen that was on the table you were sitting at, waving them in Jack’s direction.

Jack rolled his bottom lip under his teeth as he stood up and took the notepad from you and began scribbling on it.

“I have to go downstairs and meet Bratter for some team social media stuff, but I’ll see you later, okay? Text me when you finish your test.” You’d never seen Jack move so quickly as he handed the notepad back to you, retrieved a shirt and jacket from his bedroom and disappeared out the hotel room door, all within a minute or two. 

You were confused, to say the least. You glanced down at the notepad Jack had thrust into your hands, and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped when you saw what he scrawled on it.

Password - SugarpluM2001Jh!

–

Quinn had headed out not long after Jack did, leaving you to complete your test in silence. Despite the disorienting start to your morning, and all of your revision notes being on your desk at home, you managed to scrape through with a 75% result which would supplement your final grade significantly. 

The waves of relief washed over you, as you clicked out of web page you were on. You reached for your phone and typed a quick message to Jack as promised, and you were confused when the laptop chimed with a notification noise. 

Oh. Oh. Jack’s laptop was linked to his phone, and his messages were suddenly popping up on the laptop screen in front of you. 

You shouldn’t pry. You knew that. Your logical brain was telling you to close the laptop screen and get going. But your anxiety brain was telling you that you should take a peek. Just a little one. 

Before your logical brain and anxiety brain could battle it out properly, the laptop notification chimed again, and a girl’s name that was not your own flashed up on the screen. 

What happened last night? I thought you were coming to my room after your dinner?? Xx

You felt your jaw drop, as you started to realise what was happening in this conversation you shouldn’t have been privy to. You froze, as the little bubble popped up in the chat, showing you that Jack was typing a reply.

Sorry babe i got caught up with some boring family bullshit, you know how it is. Would’ve rather have been with you obvs but i just couldn’t get away. Then today is crazy with media stuff anyway. I’ll see u at the drew house event tonight though? Go back to yours after that? Xo

Sounds great. I’ll be wearing this for you, J. *image attached*

You slammed the laptop shut when the image loaded, showing someone wearing a red and black lingerie set. 

You felt bad for snooping, but you felt worse knowing that Jack considered last night as “boring family bullshit”. Is that all it was? Were you stupid for thinking it was more? That it could ever be more between the two of you?

Or was that all you could ever hope to be? Like family. Forever intertwined, always floating in each other’s orbit, but never more than friends. Platonic soulmates at best, childhood acquaintances at worst. 

You were spiralling, yet again, and your phone buzzing with a notification provided a brief reprieve. Until you saw that it was a text from Jack.

Well done on your test, champ!! Knew u could do it. See you at the draft tonight? There’s two passes in your email for you and your dad to come visit. Might even get to meet bublé, if that’s your vibe lmao

Suddenly, there was a bitter taste in your mouth. Why was he pretending like he wanted to spend time with you? When surely all he actually wanted to do was sneak off with the girl he was texting just moments ago?

You swiped into check your email app, and there were the passes as promised. You quickly scanned the email to see if they were assigned to any particular name, and all you could see was “guest of Jack Hughes” rather than you or your dad specifically. You quickly hit the “forward” button, and sent them on to your dad and your cousin Tom, who had met Jack and Quinn a handful of times over the years, and was a massive hockey fan like your dad. You knew Tom would love to go, and your dad would be happy enough to have Tom join him.

You sent through a quick message to Tom saying you weren’t feeling well and that he’d be doing you a favour by taking your pass, to which he immediately replied with lots of exclamation points and thanks. 

Next, you typed a message back to Jack.

Thanks again for the laptop and for the passes. Something’s come up so i can’t come but dad will be there with tom, hope that is ok? Didn’t want the passes to go to waste. Good luck for the draft, don’t let quinn bully you too much lol

You were hoping that Jack wouldn’t question you, or pick up on the shift in tone. Well, maybe you wanted him to sense the tone a little bit. Jack’s typing bubble popped up in the text conversation, then disappeared, then popped up again, then suddenly your phone was vibrating with a call and Jack’s name was flashing across the top of your screen. Your fingers hovered over the answer/decline buttons, before you abandoned both and dropped your phone back onto the table, letting the call go to voicemail. 

You stood up from the table and began to gather your belongings. The bitter taste was still in your mouth, but otherwise you felt nothing. Just numb. You barely realised what you were doing when your body moved towards the hotel suite door, into the elevator, through the lobby and out onto the street. You waited a few minutes for your Uber, before slipping away through the streets of downtown, and as far away from Jack as you felt you needed to be. 

By the time you got home, Jack had called you twice, and sent you about ten text messages of various question marks and confusion, and a fair amount of concern. You plugged your phone into the charger on your bedside table before heading into your bathroom for a much-needed shower.

Your shower felt like it took about 3 hours, when in reality it was probably more like 20 minutes at most. You washed your hair, and spent some time sitting down on the shower floor staring into space, pondering the events of the last 24 hours. When you finally emerged, putting on your favourite sweatpants and an old Canucks hoodie you found on your bedroom floor, you realise your phone was flashing with more notifications.

You settled down in bed before picking up your phone and scrolling through the home screen. Jack had resorted to sending you photos of sad baby pandas to elicit a response, your dad had texted you to say thank you for the passes and to feel better soon, but it was a message from Quinn that caught your eye. 

Q: What did he do? He’s freaking out. Are you okay? I can beat him up if you want me to. Or give him a hug. Just let me know which is more appropriate based on whatever the fuck he did 

You hesitated, contemplating whether to tell Quinn the truth or not. But then you remembered that Quinn had literally known you since you were four. He could tell if you were lying in a heartbeat, even over text message. 

You: Maybe just remind Jack that his text messages pop up on his laptop. See if that helps him to figure it out lmao sorry to miss tonight quinny, hope you draft all the canucks you want xo

Q: He now looks like he’s going to throw up?? Still unsure if hugging or punching is required tbh

New message - Jack Hughes -

You sighed and rolled your eyes, before clicking on Jack’s message notification. 

I am an idiot. I’m so sorry, sugar. I swear i am.

Sorry for categorising me as “boring family bullshit” or sorry that you got caught trying to get your dick wet? Or sorry for pretending to be my friend when you apparently just tolerate me to be polite?

We have press for two more hours then i can call you. You’re my best friend, sugar. I love you.

You felt tears start to prick in your eyes as you read Jack’s message. Sure, he loved you. But not in the same way that you loved him. And right now, you felt like that would never change. 

You clicked out of your message thread with Jack without replying, and opened up your conversation with Quinn instead. 

I’ll come to the all-star game on saturday, but nothing else, if that’s okay with you? I just need some space for a bit, sorry x 

Whatever you need, kiddo. I’ll give the game passes to your dad tonight. I still don’t know what jack did, but i think not seeing you will be punishment enough for whatever it was??

You didn’t reply to Quinn’s message. You didn’t reply to any more calls or messages for the next day or so, switching between trying to catch up on study and catching up on some Netflix episodes. You were typing notes on your laptop on Saturday morning, when a New Jersey Devils Twitter alert popped up on the screen and caught your attention.

#NEWS: Jack went home to Jersey last night after participating in Thursday’s draft and Friday’s media hits. He was extremely honoured to be a part of All-Star Weekend, especially sharing it with his brother. He’s really close to returning and wanted to get back so he could continue to focus on the rest of the Devils season. 

The bitter taste you thought you’d gotten rid of suddenly returned with a vengeance. 

Jack went home to Jersey last night. You had no idea when you’d see him again. And to be completely honest, you weren’t even sure that you wanted to. Your laptop dinged again, this time with an email notification. You were confused to say the least when the new email appeared to be from an airline, with a voucher attached.

Your phone buzzed with a new text message.

I couldn’t stand being there knowing you’re mad at me, but i also don’t want to force you to talk to me when you’re not ready to talk yet either. Use the voucher to come to jersey whenever you want. I’m sorry. 

You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, torn between accepting Jack’s offer and wanting to be stubborn and not let go of being mad at him just yet. You hated what Jack had done, but you also hated yourself for cutting short your time with him that was already in short supply as it was.

I’ll let you know. Might be a flight to Jersey, might be a flight to Michigan. We’ll see. Good luck getting back out there!

You knew the Michigan comment was a cheap shot, but Jack had hurt you, so you wanted to be childish and hurt him back. The idea of not seeing him for almost four months until the summer break, where you’d all gather at the Hughes lake house as you did every year, made you feel slightly ill. 

Whatever you want, sugar. Mac n cheese in michigan on me. Love you. 

The mac and cheese comment made you smile, and the love you comment made you want to cry. 

Love you too, J. Maybe too much. I don’t know. I need time. x

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 158 }

penpal.

academy arc

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

were you going crazy?

what was up with those shadows surrounding your classmate?

settled off to the left side of the classroom, you watch sung jinwoo from your periphery, seeing what looked liked dark wisps surrounding the entirety of his form. the boy was simply reading the pages of his textbook, yet something about him terrified you.

you weren't sure just how long you had been staring at him, your gaze following the tiny wisps of shadow as it seemed to dance around him-

before stiffening when your gaze met with his cool, grey eyes.

becoming paralyzed, you found that you couldn't look away from him, with jinwoo gently flashing you a kind smile. he opens his mouth, ready to greet you when four rowdy classmates interrupts him, surrounding his desk as low chuckles echo throughout the area.

you wanted to call out to them, to somehow warn them-

but no words could come out.

"wow, you're a big shot, aren't you? wearing that glove and all."

"why are you only wearing it on one hand, though? is there a black flame dragon in it or something?"

"ughhhh, my hand!! the black flame cow in my right hand is roaring-!!"

the four males began to laugh incessantly, making your anxiety shoot through the roof. you trail your gaze over to his gloved hand...

"hey, look. take off your glove. let me try it on." one of the boys demanded, further making you anxious at what was to come.

jinwoo remains silent, completely unfazed by these goons who were trying so hard to intimidate him. you had to fight back a grin, feeling the tiniest bit of admiration despite the anxieties you held for him.

"bastard, are your ears stuffed or something? why aren't you replying when we asked you to take off your glove?"

"what is it? do you have a tattoo on your left hand or something?"

jinwoo lets out a huff in response before taking off his glove, revealing a severely burned hand. your throat was felt clenching up in response once more when you caught a glimpse of his scars-

scars that appeared like deadly spiderwebs against his pale skin-

scars that were certainly not normal.

"what? never seen a burn wound before?" jinwoo's voice retained its tranquil quality, causing a wave of discomfort to be seen across the four rowdy students as they each clicked their tongues in utter disgust and disdain.

"we were just joking around, why get all serious?"

"just wear that glove again, i'm scared i'll get nightmares about it."

"FUCKING DISGUSTING."

you watch as the four boys proceed to exit the classroom, only to see a flash of purple from your periphery as an invisible force made them freeze before tripping over the doorway, landing headfirst into the floor (the sudden impact causing the students who were currently out in the hallway to laugh at them).

your heart was racing, nearly stifling you with its anxious beats when you look back at jinwoo to see him smiling at you. he calmly meets your gaze for a brief moment before giving you a wink (acting like he had shared some inside joke with you), catching you completely off guard.

he turns his attention back to his textbook and continues to read, sometimes sneaking glances at you while keeping that knowing smile on his handsome features, making you purse your lips in response.

looking away from him, you pretend to look down at your own handwritten notes, yet the sensation of his eyes being on you never seemed to cease.

{ ... }

the discomfort and anxiety you felt each time you sat next to jinwoo became too much to bear when you asked to switch seats with another girl from your class.

of course, she hadn't the slightest clue about the general offness seen with jinwoo. you knew that all she saw when it came to jinwoo was a cute boy that was top of the class.

but no one ever did notice the strange way his eyes seemed to glow-

how his mannerisms and style of speaking were a tad bit too mature for a mere teenager-

or how there were an almost constant presence of shadows surrounding him.

admittedly, sung jinwoo freaked you out.

even now, when you were literally three desks away from him, you swore that you could feel his piercing gaze against your back.

and you didn't know what you could have possibly done to have warranted such attention from him.

only when class had ended were you finally able to breathe, knowing that jinwoo had track for the next couple of hours. he had already left the classroom when you slowly began to pack your belongings together. adjusting the blouse of your uniform, you brush back your hair and begin making your way to the library to find a few good books to read before heading home.

the moment you stepped into the room filled with books, you let out a happy sigh. breathing in the fresh scent of pages, you eagerly step into the library and head to your favorite aisles.

fantasy... romance... mystery... gahhhh there's so many good books to read! it's a shame we can only check out 4 books at a time...

you think bitterly to yourself, taking a few books off the shelf when a flash of purple catches your attention. with a tilt of your head, you look out the window to see jinwoo settled directly below you. he was taking casual sips of his water all while sneaking glances at you from his periphery.

you pout, resting your free hand against the glass, gaze narrowing down at him. jinwoo realizes that he had caught your attention, fully facing you now as he lifted up his hands to give you a tiny wave. the suddenly soft and sweet action was enough to make the heat grow against your cheeks, with you unable to ignore the gesture as you wave back at him.

his smile was enough to distract you from the lengthening of your shadow made in response to the setting sun, distracting you from seeing the several, glowing purple eyes that remained hidden from within its dark depths.

{ ... }

the morning you came into your school, you saw something fall out of your locker, making you question how such a note could have gotten into the metal compartment.

for starters, it had a lock on it-

a lock that only you had the key to.

so just how did this folded note even reach you?

you shake your head and ignored all logic when it came to how you had gotten this note, proceeding to unfold the piece of paper as it read:

your eyes and smile are really beautiful. tell me, are you seeing anyone right now? ( s. monarch )

your throat turns dry upon reading the note, making your heart race in response.

was this person... actually flirting with you through a note?

and just what kind of nickname was s. monarch?

was this guy just really cocky or something?

yet, even knowing that this note was kind of cheesy, why did it succeed in making you smile?

you look down at the page to see that it had plenty of space for you to write your reply. trying to hide back your grin, you take out your favorite pen and decide to write:

thank you for your compliment. i am not seeing anyone at the moment, but i'm curious- who are you?

you sign off the note with your full name before placing it back within the confines of your locker, somehow knowing that your face was completely flustered right now.

your good mood had dramatically increased, and you found yourself looking forward to talking to this new penpal of yours.

{ ... }

your eyes and smile are really beautiful. tell me, are you seeing anyone right now?

thank you for your compliment. i am not seeing anyone at the moment, but i'm curious- who are you?

ah, i'm sorry, i can't say. it would ruin the mystery :)

mystery?? why would you wish to keep your identity a secret, monarch?

i have my reasons. besides... i want to use this chance to get to know you better.

may i ask how you're able to read and place new notes within my locker?

nope, sorry. it's still a secret ;)

ugh, you're kind of annoying, monarch -_-

i've been called much worse. :)

{ ... }

you spend the next couple of weeks exchanging notes with monarch, giggling each time he asked questions about you, like wanting to know your favorite color-

favorite books-

favorite foods-

just, anything and everything that made you who you are.

while you answered each of his questions, you would read his own responses pertaining to his own personal interests.

you could say purple and black are my favorite colors.

i wasn't much of a big reader before, but i'm enjoying a lot of murder mystery books. maybe you can recommend me some other good novels to read?

my favorite foods are pretty much anything that my mom makes, haha, but kimchi stew and bulgogi beef are my personal favorites.

altogether, he seemed like your typical, teenaged boy. the conversations you had with him remained light-hearted and fun.

but that all changed when you received today's note within your locker during your lunch break:

what do you think of sung jinwoo? i notice you tend to avoid him a lot.

your eyebrows furrow in response to his question, wondering why monarch would even care about how you felt when it came to jinwoo. however, you were always honest with him before, so you saw no reason to lie to him now.

you truly want an honest answer? well, to put it bluntly, jinwoo terrifies me. there's just this... really strange and dark aura about him? yet no one seems to notice it but me. sure, he's plenty polite on the surface, but... i feel like there's more to him than meets the eye. it's almost like... he has some secret, one that no one can understand, but keeps well hidden? ah, sorry, i am well aware that i am not making any sense, but it's how i really feel. jinwoo makes me feel anxious.

after finishing your note, you place it back within your locker before walking back to your classroom.

somehow, you couldn't ignore the sensation that you were missing something vital...

that there was some connection you just weren't seeing when it came to monarch and sung jinwoo...

{ ... }

your heart was racing when class ended for the day, and you wondered if monarch had already sent you a reply. with a noticeable bounce in your step, you go to your locker and unlock it, seeing a brand new note settled atop your various notebooks.

meet me at the library after school.

a painful clench was felt at the base of your throat, with you picking up the single note, your hands trembling as you fought to calm down. letting out a deep breath, you close your locker and brush back your hair, holding monarch's latest note close to your chest.

were you getting nervous?

why did your legs feel stiff and heavy all of a sudden?

with each step you take, getting oh so much closer to the library, you swore that your heart was going to choke you with its rapid palpitations-

praying that you wouldn't suddenly die of a heart attack, you open the door to the library-

only to see a lone figure standing in front of the window. the setting sun shining directly in your eyes made it difficult for you to see who it was, giving you no choice but to come closer to the person.

wiping away the tears from your eyes, you stepped closer and finally saw just who monarch truly was-

letting out a gasp when sung jinwoo himself was looking at you with those same, glowing eyes.

"you... you're monarch?!" that was all that you could manage, the anxiety immediately becoming worse as your heart continued to beat faster within the confines of your chest.

a rich chuckle escapes from his lips, "indeed, i am." he confirms your suspicions before taking a step closer to you.

jinwoo seemed unaware (or perhaps he just didn't care?) about your mounting discomfort and anxieties, still coming closer to you as you continued to take several steps away from him.

only when your back met with one of the sides of the bookshelves did you finally stop, with jinwoo smiling down at you. he places his gloved hand against the shelf, trapping you against him.

with his free hand, he gently traces at your bottom lip, making your breath hitch in response. despite how much of a nervous wreck he made you, you couldn't ignore the sudden warmth you felt spreading across your veins at the look of adoration he gives you.

"you have plenty of good reasons to fear me, i'll admit, but... is it really just fear and anxiety that you feel for me...?"

his whisper was almost seductive, trailing his fingertips down your features before gently grabbing a hold of your chin.

"or have you mistaken your anxieties with feelings of love for me, too?"

your breathing comes out in uneven breaths, and you could feel your cheeks further heating up in response as your heart skipped several beats-

"wait, you said too, did you just hint that- that you feel love for me?"

jinwoo's glowing purple eyes became alight with amusement as he gives you an eager nod. "obviously, these feelings of mine have only grown since the moment i saw you again..."

you became speechless then, watching with bated breath when jinwoo inches closer and closer to you, "despite how long it's been for me, you have not changed... not even a little bit, sarang."

your knees immediately become weaker when jinwoo calls you by that sweet term of endearment, and you nearly fell to your knees when he finally kisses you. his arms were kept locked around your waist, kissing you with a fervor that made you feel oddly nostalgic-

perhaps you had no reason to fear sung jinwoo after all; especially with how addicting his kisses had quickly become to you.

a.n. - and we are so back with the fluff i have always loved writing about! i am so happy, passing a really difficult final exam as i look forward to the rest of my academic year 😭 so i decided to write another jinwoo story!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[pretty-blkgirl]

Say Yes [Part Two]

//fem!reader x Ot8!Skz//

Synopsis: You get slipped a note from your favorite idol to meet him at his hotel room, but he's not the only one there

Genre: smut/suggestive, crack, fluff

Warnings: sexual situations, reader uses she/her pronouns

A/N: thank you @seoyeonleexoxo for the requestttt ❤️ I initially didn’t want this to be three parts but this part ended up so lengthy 😭 Third part is gonna be the conclusion 💗

~~~~|~~~~

“Okay y/n, breathe” You chant to yourself as the elevator rises quickly to the second floor. Admittedly, you get out and pace around the hallway a little, catching the eye of some curious staff members walking between the rooms.

“Excuse me,” One woman says, coming up to you. You know she’s staff, especially since her employee badge is still hanging around her neck.

“This floor is reserved,” She says politely, “Are you supposed to be up here?”

You dig in your pocket to fish out the envelope you had gotten. A little panicked, you give it to her. Wordlessly, she looks at the picture and the (signed) NDA.

A tight-lipped smile graces her face, “Follow me.”

She gives you the envelope back and practically jogs down the hall. You walk quickly to keep up, and you two end up in front of room B6.

“Please remember the stipulations of the NDA,” She says, “The rest of the document should be in the room. Read over it when you receive it”

The envelope in your pocket feels heavy as she bows at you and walks off.

You stand there for another 5 minutes before knocking four straight times. Your heart beats out of your chest as you hear a hushed voice on the other side of the door.

It opens soon enough, and you come face-to-face with Bang Chan himself.

“There you are” He smiles, the gorgeous dimples in his cheeks making you feel at ease. He moved aside to let you in, and you go in with a little less hesitation than you should have.

“I didn’t get your name,” Chan says, “I’m Chris”

This makes you giggle, of course, you know who he is. But he’s just being polite, which makes you a little more relaxed.

“I’m y/n” You say

He nods and takes you further into the rather large room. The lights are dimmed, but you can make out the other two silhouettes lying across the king-sized bed.

You jump a little as Han Jisung sits up and confidently walks over to you. His cool nature spikes your already high anxiety levels.

“Hello,” He says, “I’m Han”

He points over to a bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne sticking out

“Want a drink?”

You can’t even answer before Changbin gets up and walks to the three of you. He’s wearing a tight, black tank top, making you a little dizzy as you get a full view of his muscles.

“You can’t just ask her that, Han,” He says, flicking the younger’s forehead and giving you a nice smile, “I’m Changbin”

“I’m being polite” Han defends

Changbin rolls his eyes, “She’s gonna think we wanna get her drunk or something- We dont by the way”

The two start to argue in Korean, making Chan laugh from behind you.

“Please excuse them, how about we take a seat?”

You nod and follow him over to a small table with two chairs. Everything seems to be going in slow motion. How in the hell are you in a hotel room with 3racha? THEE 3RACHA?

Once you two sit, Chan immediately starts to ask you about yourself. You reveal you just graduated college, and the concert earlier was a little treat for yourself after managing to save money while still paying your tuition and other expenses. You talk about your hometown, your favorite shows, your favorite songs, and how you got into Skz

“In my sophomore year of college, I had a professor who loved to play music at the start of class. She usually played louder music to wake everyone up since the class was so early, one day she played Gods Menu- I Shazammed the song and the rest was history”

Chan laughs hysterically at this, even more so that you added the fact that your teacher was a 70-something-year-old lady.

“That’s so cute” He smiles, “So you’ve been a fan for a couple of years”

“Yep. My friends have been fans for much longer though, one of them since pre-debut”

“That’s sweet” He grins, “We love our Stays, especially ones that are so beautiful”

He takes his hand and caresses your face, making your heart start to beat concerningly fast. You hear the other two men stop arguing, looking over to see them watching you and Chan with twin looks of lust.

“We saw you in the venue,” Chan says, bringing your attention back to him, “I’m sorry if all of this is overwhelming, please tell us if you feel uncomfortable”

“It’s okay,” You say quickly, “I’m okay”

Changbin and Han come and stand by the table, Han giving you a shy smile and Changbin’s smirk making you bite your lip.

“The other members saw you too,” Han says

“Where are they?” You question

“In their rooms. We figured we may scare you off if you saw all eight of us. Don’t want you to feel cornered” Chan explains

A strong sense of boldness and pure disbelief fill you as you utter a quiet, “They can come in here”

And with that, Changbin leaves the room and comes back minutes later with the other five members.

“Hi” Felix’s deep voice and bright smile greet you, “Glad to see you”

“Thought you wouldn’t come,” Seungmin says, “This is a little strange, isn’t it?”

The boys all sit in various spots in the room. You and Chan remain at the small table, him giving you reassuring looks as you contemplate the situation in front of you

“Why did you guys invite me here?” You ask

“We wanna fuck you,” Seungmin says bluntly

A chorus of scoldings comes his way as he laughs

“It’s true!” He exclaims, “It’s not fair to keep her guessing. We saw you and thought you were so gorgeous that we thought it’d be worth a shot to ask you here”

“Of course, you don’t have to do anything,” Felix says, “You can leave right now, no problem”

You contemplate for a moment. How is this real life? How in the fuck did you find yourself surrounded by eight of the most beautiful men on Earth, all wanting to fuck you?

If this is a dream, you don’t want to wake up -so with that in mind- you say;

“I wanna stay”

Hyunjin is shocked at your acceptance of the offer, “Are you sure?” He asks

“Yes,” You say with an odd sense of confidence, “Give me the NDA”

Han goes to one of the nightstands and pulls out a stack of paper from the drawer.

“You have the last page of it, this is the rest.” He says, handing it to you

“Do you guys just have NDAs on standby?” You joke, but Chan looks at you with a look of seriousness

“Our team does in case any of us choose to have a random hook up” He admits, “This one is more lengthy though”

You start to look through the papers, all the men patiently waiting for you to read through everything.

There’s a “hook up” clause, essentially saying that you can’t reveal anything about the one night you and any member have had.

There’s a “Causal” clause, one stating that if you and any member(s) were to have causal interactions, you are not to say or allude to anything.

However, there’s a “Connection” clause, this one revealing that you are allowed to spend time with any member(s) [If you and he choose to stay in contact in a serious matter] with help from JYP staff. You are allowed to attend any Skz events of your choosing, be at their residence, and go out with them on dates while swearing to not say anything about the arrangement and allow the staff to keep a close eye on you.

“Interesting” Is all you say by the time you finish the paperwork. I.N. had silently given you a pen to write your signature on a couple of dotted lines.

“There are three arrangements” Felix reiterates, “Do any of them sound good to you?”

“I’d prefer the connection arrangement,” You say truthfully, “I’ve had casual sex here and there but I’d like to build some kind of relationship with you all”

Heat rises to your face as you look back at a smiley Chan.

“I understand I’m only a fan but I would hate to just fuck you all and then leave. Especially if I’m offered free concerts and shit”

Chan and Felix burst out in laughter, making you even more comfortable than you were before

“No, I understand” Chan nods, “We’d love to get to know you as well.”

“Great, I’m glad we’re in agreeance”

As much as you wish you could have just hugged all of them and started the process of getting to know the members, you caught sight of how good they looked right at that moment.

And well, you have needs.

You look around the room and your eyes stop at a shy-looking I.N, whose face turns red at the way you were looking at him.

“Do you guys have condoms?”

~~~~|~~~~

Taglist: @anxiousskylar @openthevale @kaiyaba @blackbluerose666 @angelhyunjinnie @hyun-hwanj @shuporangporangilinos @jisungsbammey @yumiblogs @sillyhal @chrizztopher97

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: you can't stop me from giving a tiny reader to these two and I will not listen to anything ever.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You can't focus on one thing. Your eyes flit around. Shining tables, floating screens, metal tools and gadgets, cabinets with glass doors house endless supplies, Stark-branded emblems from wall to wall...

The lab is extraordinary, well above the shared spaces at the university. A dream come true for any but especially for a student used to ramen and a used single mattress. 

"You... you really get to come here whenever you want?" You rasp as your throat tickles. 

"Yup!" Peter answers at twice your volume. You wince. You tend to mumble and you're just not good with loud noises. He pauses to measure his voice, "uh, yeah, so I figured we could do our project here, study buddy." 

"Oh, mhmm," you hum as you fold your hands over your chest and sway. As awesome as it will be, that usual dread comes over you. What if you break something? What if you get in the way? 

"Pretty cool, right? Mr. Stark is so awesome." 

"Mr. Stark? Yeah, yeah..." you cough and lower your hands over stomach. "Thought it was a rumour..." 

"Yeah, he helped me out in high school after I won a robotics tournament. He's chill." 

You nod, almost frantically, as your eyes skitter around without focus. Your chest starts to tighten and you blink big. Peter shifts away from you. 

"Hey, you need a minute?" He asks. 

You look at him and keep nodding. It's why your happy you got him as your partner. He checks in. Not to mention, he's never annoyed by you. 

"I'll be here, wanna take a breath in the hall?"  

You squeak but don't quite get out a yes please. You spin and scurry to the door. You flinch and jump back as it slides open on it's own. Peter laughs and a small smile curves your lips but you're too nervous to laugh. 

The hall is empty. You bask in the solace, calming yourself against the wall. You just get a little worked up in new places. Or loud places. Or crowded places. Then it makes it so you can't breathe and then... 

You pull out your reliever inhaler and take a careful puff. You close your eyes and lean your head back as you wait for your heart to slow. In, out, in, out. 

You grip your inhaler as you stay unmoving against the wall. Your ears prick, listening for any sign of life, as you retreat behind your eyelids. Another breath and you'll be okay. 

"Um, miss?" A rocky voice jars you away from the wall and your eyes snap open. You nearly collide with the man before you. How did you not hear him coming? "Are you alright?" 

You bat your lashes and reach to play with plastic bow clip in your hair. He watches the motion as you nod, "yes, sir. Sorry. I..." Your mouth is sticky and parched, your surprise balls on your tongue. You clear away the lump, "you're... the Winter Soldier." 

His brow twitches, "Bucky." 

"Sorry, sorry, er... Buck...y," you trail off. You swing back and forth, "sorry... again, I..." 

You're embarrassed and lost. You give a sheepish look and turn away. You hurry back to the door and hit the keypad. It blares back at you in rejection. You don't know the code and you don't think your fingerprint will work. You stare at it helplessly. 

"Here," Bucky approaches and presses his thumb to the pad. "You new here?" 

You shake your head. Your chest wracks. You bring your puffer up and suck without thinking.  

The door slides open and you flit through. Peter leans on a table over his phone. He looks over as you enter and stands straight, tapping his fingers on the metal. 

"Hey, you found Bucky!" He grins. 

"Kid," the man follows you inside. Wait, why? Is he going to tell Peter on you? You didn't mean to call him that. You didn't know he wouldn't like it. 

"We're just having a look around," Peter explains, "we're both in engineering. Classmates." He introduces you by name, "Mr. Stark won't care too much if I'm doing homework." 

"Mm," Bucky grumbles as he goes to a far table. 

Peter shrugs and faces you again. "He can be a bit grumpy. We can get outta here." 

He comes forward as you hear metal tinking behind him. You glance over as Bucky works on his metal forearm with a thin tool. His vibranium fingers seems to work on their own as he wiggles the tip in a groove.  

"Grumpy and has super hearing," Bucky snipes as he keeps his attention on his arm. 

Peter's brows pop up and he rolls his eyes, "come on, let's get outta here before he gets his arm calibrated." 

You turn and go back through to the hallway. The door shuts behind Peter and he sighs. He points you down the hall as you shuffle aimlessly. 

"This place is sweet but you know, some of the regulars can be a bit much," he jokes. "You'll get used to Buck. He's never in a good mood. Better when Sam's around but... well, he's grown. Shouldn't need a chaperone, right?" 

You tilt your head but don't say anything. You don't know much about them. You learned about Captain America and The Winter Soldier in history back in high school. Your knowledge of the Avengers and their current roster is extremely lacking. Other than the Spidery one. Everyone on campus talks about him. 

"Mmhmm." You drone. 

"Gee, sorry, I know it's a lot, huh? Didn't mean to overload you!" He chimes. 

You shake your head, "I'm okay." 

"I know, I know. Kinda nice having someone quiet around. Ned is a chatterbox and the worst project partner. He just wants to talk about girls or lego." 

You dip your head to show you're listening. You glance at your inhaler and yuck is away in your crossbody bag. You drop your arms straight and continue next to Peter to the elevator. 

"Wanna get a slice? I'm starving," he says. "My treat." 

"Oh... you don't..." 

"Nah, don't worry about it. I just want pizza without May telling me not too," he chuckles. "Trust, I know a great place." 

You purse your lips and push your shoulders up again. You give a silent surrender with a tilt of your head. Even if you feel a bit guilty, you won't say no to free food. 

[witheringwidgetwrites]

MC has a secret admirer!

Request goes; They're already dating but it's new so most of the lesser demons don't know about it. MC then starts getting love letters from an anonymous person and the Dateables/Brothers get the need to show off that MC is theirs?

I'm gonna do the brothers first! Hope that's cool! If yall wanna see more pls request it! (Also pretend that this is near the beginning of yalls relationship)

INTRO

"Wow, look babe, I got a love letter! Guess I'm more popular than I thought, you might have some competition." You chuckle, kissing his cheek. It was a very flattering letter, laying out all your strengths, compliments sprinkled generously throughout the writing. It was... surprising to say the least. But you were excited to tell him about it!

LUCIFER

If he's already on edge, he might just yank it and rip it in half. Today, however, he's in a good mood.

"Let me read it." You hand him the paper, watching him closely as he grimaces and scoffs. He's not nervous, but he is baffled that someone had the nerve to send you such a... bold letter.

A little prideful, in the sense that he has something that no one else can. He know's you wont leave him for some lower demon, but he can't help but feel slightly threatened.

Walks a litter closer to you around town and RAD. He'll hold your hand when the hallways start to filter out and there's less students around.

Puts in the effort to take you on more public dates, Restorante Six, most likely. kissing your hand and giving you roses at the table. He's not flashy, but it's enough for rumors to spread quickly.

MAMMON

He rips it from your hand, immediately turning his back so he can read it. "Is this the kinda lame sappy stuff you're into? Even I'd do better than this! It don't even mention ya eyes!"

He hands it back to you, mumbling something about, "i'll show 'em" before he stomps off, shaking his head.

He struts the RAD halls with his arm around you, glaring unnecessary at anyone who walks by. He's certainly on edge for the first couple days after. He starts passing you small silly notes during class, little drawings and pickup lines. You watch him as he turns away, hand trying to cover his flushed cheeks.

Also takes you out more. Carnivals, amusement parks, more casual things! Posts 1 post, with a few photos of you together, captioned 'almost as good as grimm.' If you get another letter, you might end up having your first kiss in front of the school!

LEVIATHAN

"Wha? Who?" He can feel his heart beating faster, anxiety rising in his chest. "Just kidding Levi, you're the only demon for me!" You giggle at him. "Could I read it?" You hand it to him, watching him plop down in his gaming chair. He gets very expressive while he reads. Before long, his tail is swishing behind him, "they don't even know you! There's no mention o-of any of your favorite videos games in here! You love games." He frowns, throwing his hands up dramatically. "I know Levi, I don't even know who sent it. Don't worry, they don't know me as well as you do." He pretends to lose control of his tail, that pulls you into him for a hug.

He sulks for a few days, but after some reassurance, he has a plan. You're going to the aquarium and he'll hold your hand! That'll really show 'em. Might even go to physical school a few days more than usual to walk with you.

He writes you a little in-game dialog sappy note, telling you a few things he loves about you. Might make a singular Devilgram post with you, hugging his Ruri-chan body pillow, captioned ''my #1 and my #2'

ASMODEUS

"Ohh! Of course you're popular MC! Everyone loves you, and me of course. We're the top power couple! Now let me take a look." He smiles at you, smile faltering slightly as he reads the letter. Eyes blinking a little stiffly, he hands it back to you. "That's so superficial, you're much better off with me." And with that, he walks away.

He shows the world exactly who's you are immediately. You're tagged in maybe 10 posts in a row. Pictures of you and him, some of just you, all captioned things like, 'my love' and 'my number one always' and 'remembering the moment I fell for you' and it's unmistakable.

Becomes even more affectionate in the RAD hallways, snuggling up to you, sitting in your lap/having you sit in his during lunch.

SATAN

He frowns, putting his hand out for the paper. He glances over it, brow furrowing as he reads. "This is amateur writing. You deserve much better." He hands it back to you, walking past you quickly with a scowl on this face. He turns back halfway down the hall, "be ready at 6:30." You decide to leave him be.

First order of business, he writes you a beautiful letter. It's long winded, many poetry references, and references to stories you've read together. Even compares you to a cat, somehow. He does not give it to you yet.

He dresses nice for your date, electing to take you to dinner, and then a stroll through the royal gardens. As you approach the doors to the House of Lamentation, he turns to you, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a wax sealed letter, your name written neatly on the other side.

Sits a little closer to you at lunch time, and in the library. Hoping someones will see and rumors will spread.

BEELZEBUB

He doesn't read the letter. He's a little jealous, but he thinks reading it will upset him, so he stays away.

He makes the small effort to hold your hand more. He's not normally one for PDA, but for you, he can make a small exception. You can see how flushed his face is when you look up at him.

On game days, he lets you wear his jersey until he needs it. Might post a picture on his Devilgram of you in it. Captioned, '#1 fan'

After one of his games, he sees you talking to a lower demon, they seem to be standing awfully close. He sees them throw their arm around you, and so he calls for you, pretending he didn't see them. He waves at you, jogging over and cupping your face with his hands before placing his lips on yours.

BELPHEGOR

He's half asleep when you tell him. Isn't really bothered until you make the comment about competition. Now he's awake, and looking around like there's a present threat. Yanks the letter from you, holding it close to his face while he scowls. He scans the paper, before rolling his eyes and rolling back over onto his side, taking the letter with him.

Pretends he's not bothered. Asmo brings it up at the dinner table, Belphie calls it a "stupid letter" and crosses his arms, slouching.

Doesn't bring it up again, but you notice he's a little more cuddly in public than he was before. One day after class, he finds you in the library studying, he saunters over, kissing you brashly, tongue tracing the edge of your bottom lip,and loudly, before wiping his lip with his thumb, and sitting next to you, "what're you studying today, MC?"

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[msbigredmachine]

You Again - Flashback

A/N: A snippet of Evelyn and Joe in high school. I'm still completing Part 2 which hopefully should be up soon.

Warning: Themes of bullying

Word Count: 1.1k

READ PART 1 HERE

Escambia High School, October 2000

“Hey Evie!”

She is so startled she collides with her locker door, her books nearly flying out of her hands. It takes a couple of seconds to regain her bearings and realize who is standing in front of her, and it’s not anyone she’s expecting, certainly not the captain of the cheer team.

“Ayesha,” Evie straightens, awkwardly shoving her books back inside her locker and adjusting her skewed glasses. “Umm, did you…did you want something?” she asks, her arms crossed protectively over herself. They’re not friends - Ayesha has never hesitated to remind her of this - so she wonders why she is here, flashing a megawatt smile that one could mistake to be amiable. 

“So…don’t trip,” Ayesha begins, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “but I found your note in History class.”

For a second she’s confused, and then it hits her. Oh no. Oh god. She tries to play dumb, fighting the urge to look into her History textbook where she’d thought she’d tucked her little, ill-advised daydream away in one of its pages, safe from the prying eyes of the queen of the mean girls. “W-What? What note?” 

“The note you wrote, silly. I think you dropped it on the floor, you really need to be more careful, girl,” Ayesha giggles.

It’s a lie and they both know it. Evie wouldn’t be so stupid as to expose such damning evidence, let alone discard it haphazardly in class of all places. Her brain is working frantically, trying to figure out how on earth Ayesha got hold of it to begin with. Each student had to present their History paper in front of the entire class, and she suspects Ayesha swiped the note from her desk when it was her turn. It’s not hard to imagine the malicious glee in her eyes as she read the contents, not too different from the one she is trying and failing to hide right this moment:

Dear Joe, Would you like to go to the Fall Ball with me? YES   NO

“Okay,” Evie starts tentatively, treading lightly. “So can I have the note back? Please?”

Ayesha’s eyes widen dramatically. “Oh! I gave it to Joe. I saw his name on it. The note was for him, right?”

Evie feels her heart sink to Titanic depths, her insides heavy from the weight of this shattering news. The magnitude of the trouble she's put herself in brings tears to her eyes but she quickly blinks them away before Ayesha adds it to her ammunition. “Oh…I, uh…it wasn’t for…You’re mistaken, the note was for another Joe-” she starts to backtrack.

“Oh girl, there’s only one Joe in this school who matters and we all know who he is,” Ayesha dismisses flippantly. “Why you so worried anyway? I come bearing good news. He asked me to give you this.” She extends her hand, a piece of paper that looked torn out of a legal pad tucked between her fingers. Eyeing her skeptically, Evie takes it, her anxiety rising as she unfolds it and reads the familiar scribble:

Dear Evie,

Meet me under the bleachers at lunch.

Joe.

Against her better judgment, her heart flutters at his invitation, excitement bubbling inside her just knowing he responded to her. But common sense swoops in, and she stammers, shaking her head, “Look, I don’t…this isn’t necessary at all…Please, let’s just forget that any of this happened-”

“Girl, are you seriously chickening out on Joe Anoa’i?” Ayesha counters. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you and you’re turning it down?”

Evie makes one last throw of the dice, desperate to get out of this predicament. "But why are you doing this? Isn't he your boyfriend?"

"It's...complicated," Ayesha answers easily, placing a hand on Evie's shoulder. “Sweetie, any girl would kill to be in your shoes right now. Who knows, he might say yes. Are you really gonna throw that away because you’re scared?”

Terrified, actually. Not much good comes out of interacting with Joe Anoa’i when you’re not a member of his precious clique. But Ayesha is right. A private meeting with the most popular boy in school is too enticing to pass up, if only this once. So Evie forces herself to wait through the agonizing hour and a half before lunchtime, embroiled in thoughts of how their conversation will go. 

It turns out she should have trusted her gut, because the minute she steps onto the field, something feels off. 

Joe is not here. Outside is eerily quiet save for the muted bustling inside the cafeteria a few feet away. Chalking it up to him standing her up, Evie permits herself to exhale a huge sigh of relief and spins back towards the building, eager to forget all about the mess she almost made.

Then, it happens. Out of the shadows, they step out, seemingly from every corner of the stands. Jon. Josh. Ayesha and her lackeys, Kelli and Chichi. All of them emerging one by one until she is surrounded by his entire posse.

And last but not least, Joe appears like some kind of video game final boss. He steps between the twins, both of whom stare her down with the same demeanor as vultures circling over a carcass. He twirls her letter between his long fingers, his handsome face wearing a sugary sweet smile and a spiteful glint in his eye that strikes terror in Evie.

“So, Evie…I read your little message to me. It was…sweet. Real cute,” he says, coming closer to her, humored by the way she tenses as he towers over her. “I just have one question…” 

He gently trails the corner of the note along her cheek. The gesture would be considered as intimate if his eyes didn't harbor so much malevolence. “Did you really think my answer would be yes?”

The group bursts into laughter, the sounds cruel and taunting. Joe circles around her, regarding her with the same countenance as a piece of gum stuck underneath his Air Max sneakers. “What makes you think I’d ever wanna go to the dance with a nobody like you? Huh?” He throws an arm around Ayesha and kisses her cheek. "Babe, didn't you tell her you were going with me?"

Ayesha crosses her arms and shrugs with fake nonchalance, an even faker smile on her pretty face. "I wanted to...but it was much more fun fuckin' with her head."

She should have known better. Better than to write that shit in the first place. Known that Ayesha was setting her up from the start; known that standing her up or simply ignoring her was too merciful, too tame for Joe and his coven.

It’s beyond humiliating, and all Evie wants is for the ground to swallow her whole.

Ayesha steps up to her, angling her head low enough to catch Evie’s teary-eyed expression. “Awww, are you gonna cry? You gon’ cry bitch? You thirsty-ass pathetic loser?”

Ayesha's arms shoot out, shoving Evie so hard that she falls over, crying out as her knees collide painfully with the ground. Her glasses slip off her face and onto the cold dewy grass and dirt. Her tears splash onto the cracked lenses as they all step past her fallen frame, their cackles echoing in her ears long after they are gone.

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

Fun fact: A version of this incident happened to me in high school in real life. Only difference is I wasn't pushed. 😭😭😭

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[soobnny]

classmate au | kim sunoo

❝ no one is allowed to borrow my art materials except for (name) ❞

heeseung | jay | jake | sunghoon | SUNOO | jungwon | ni-ki

kim sunoo

sweet, sunshine, best friend kim sunoo

it was kind of SO obvious he wanted to be friends

like he wants to be close to you soooo bad and maybe it’s bc he saw u playfully bullying riki

it was love at first sight and an instant best friendship the moment you finally met

your seats were assigned so u were sat next to each other

THANK GOD U WERE

you two are basically inseparable now

sunoo strikes me as the type to just walk into the classroom and walk straight towards where you’re seated

at school events, he’d leave his backpack on the seat next to him to reserve you a seat

then he’d go “(name)!” while waving from his seat it’s actually kind of embarrassing

there is never anxiety of being seated next to a stranger bc sunoo has your back

he’d grab an extra mini fan from his bag to give to U bc these school events r always so scorching hot

sunoo does that “leaning against your locker while you get things” thing

he is so unaware of how HANDSOME he looks

oh and btw if you don’t attend class, he probably won’t in solidarity

in the chances that he does attend class, he usually sends you photos of his notes and everything you need to know

he’d be like i’m soooooo bored 2 minutes into the class without you like it hasn’t even STARTED

just prepare for his spam messages

after class, you’d buy street food and just gossip over it

you’d stare at what he bought and he’d roll his eyes before pushing the stick towards you so you can bite off it

YES feeding each other … normal best friend things

anyways moving on

another thing in my vision is that he’s the provider of art materials

the teacher suddenly lets you make a poster????

you know you’re secured bc sunoo is ur bff and will let only YOU borrow his supplies

“sunoo, let me borrow your colored markers”

“ok, which colors do you want” ☺️☺️☺️☺️

flat out will say no to everyone else tho

he’s kind of intimidating honestly despite having the sweetest smile

LIKE he’s friends with everyone but not friends friends

do you guys get what i mean

he is just a completely different person with you bc he trusts u the most and he just becomes CRAZY

like yall let him keep his crazy too much .. thank god you’re there for him to unleash it to

he’s one of the people who plays volleyball with riki and friends

but he’s absolutely horrible please save him

altho … why does he look so handsome playing even tho he can’t receive the ball? 🤨

he’d just laugh and crumble in embarrassment and you’d be the number one person cheering for him

(update after ella’s rb,, full credits to her) u would def put the blame on his teammates

“RIKI DO BETTER” even if it was 100% sunoo’s fault like so real

weird specific love language? buying each other water

he’s playing volleyball? you have a bottle of water for him in case he wants to sit out the game and watch with you

you’re finished with your physical education practical exam? he’s waiting for you with his big ass water jug

BUT LIKEEEE why is there a change in the air suddenly 😩😩😩

why is your best friend so boyfriend material actually

he holds your hand… holds it so firmly

sunoo gives the best hugs too

he makes you laugh and he’s so thoughtful with his stupid water and his art materials

even carries your things for you sometimes

AND yall take good photos of each other

“does my hair look fine?”

he’d reach out to fix it … tuck it behind your ear or look at you so intensely before going back to smiling n saying yup all good!

during the sports festival, yall are off joining some type of singing jingle cheer competition which is usually the first event

so you guys just joke around for the rest of the week, watch some events, and take LOTS of photos

you would laugh at your classmates

maybe even cheer for some of your friends

just as long as you’re next to each other

you probably bad mouth the opposite team BUT TO YOURSELVES .. not out loud

would clap so hard when your team wins a point !!!

also back to the taking photos detail

he’d just be dragging you everywhere to take photos bc when is the best time but NOW

ofc u do take his photos .. u ltrly take the Best

“sunoo, look, you’re so handsome here!”

and then you look up at him to see his reaction and he’s already looking at you

uh oh.

your faces are so close to each other like SO close

let’s step back and check the label 😂

BEST FRIENDS !!!!!

tho he does save u out of ur misery by asking you out a week later

bc apparently the sudden shift in air also happened to HIM

he brings it up as a joke first bc he’s testing the waters and he’s not trynna get rejected

“imagine if we were dating…..” and a long lingering pause in the air afterward

if you joked back with like a “LOL”, he’d know u don’t feel the same

but you ltrly go 😮 and so speechless bc why is he suddenly bringing this up when you’ve spent the last few nights thinking about him

did those tiktok manifestations work

did that tiktok audio actually get sunoo to like u back

“um… well! well, you see…”

“i like you”

“THANK GOD”

you guys are like waaaaay more inseparable now that you’re dating

your friends will fake vomit around u .. but don’t worry it’s just bc they’re bitchless

while u and ur bf sunoo are happily in love

btw he gets jealous easily TEARSSSSSS

he gets all pouty but don’t worry, you just have to Hug him and give him a kiss and he’s all smiles again

oh, and i feel the need to inform you that hugs are his favorite thing in the world

and CHEEK kisses like specifically cheek kisses.. he loves them

his ideal dates r just when you’re at each other’s house

you can order takeout and do your skincare together … watch the latest movies

his family loves you too

so much that they include your favorite snacks when they go grocery shopping

“sunoo, get those chips that (name) rly likes. u dont know when she might come over next!”

like they are ANTICIPATING you

enjoy dating i love sunoo

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Handle It, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Blackmailing, Being Sick, Threatening to Kill Someone, Mentions of An Affair

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K

Summary: Y/N stresses about not being able to take a test after missing it because she is sick, but good thing Rafe is here to help.

Masterlist

He can hear tiny sniffles coming from inside of his room. He opens the door to see the wet globs coming from her eyes and the tiny shrivel of her nose confirms his assumption that she is crying. Her hand tugs at the opposite sleeve of his oversized hoodie that she wears. As soon as their eyes lock, he rushes to sit on the bed and pulls her onto his lap. “What’s wrong, my sweet angel?” he coos, unsticking her hair from the wet trail on her face it attached itself to so that he can look into her eyes. She takes a second to steady her breathing, “Y-you kn-know how I had that test today, but I’ve been puking all week so I couldn’t go?” He nods his head for her to continue. “Well, I emailed my professor at the beginning of the week asking if I could do it another day. He said that I would need to show him a doctor's note before the end of the day for that to happen. I tried telling him that I tried everything all week to get one, but my doctor doesn’t have a free appointment, the clinic can’t give me one because they aren’t my regular doctor and the hospital won’t even see me. So, now, I’m going to lose 20% of my mark because I was sick.” 

Rafe listens carefully to her little rant, growing angry at each hoop his sick girlfriend had to go through just to get something as trivial as a redo test. She had been studying every chance she could get, even through her sickness. Rafe knows how serious Y/N is about her grades and school. After all, she needs some great grades to get into grad school. He would never think twice about losing 20% of his grade because all he wants to do is pass the class, which is perfectly doable without that. However, Y/N, especially with her anxiety, needs every percent she can get and Rafe wasn’t going to let some old shit with a stick up his ass stop her from doing so. “It’s going to be okay. Let me handle it, angel,” he assures, kissing her temple. 

——

The line to the professor’s office is three people deep. All of them are waiting to enter for his office hours, but Rafe is not going to take the chance of not talking to him. He stares down the first guy in line and walks to the front of the line. From the guy’s smell, he must be an engineering major. No one says anything about Rafe’s actions because he has a well-known reputation on campus. The door opens to the office and Rafe doesn’t wait for the student inside to walk out. The wrinkles on the professor’s forehead crate a v, a frown falling onto his face. “I don’t believe you are in any of my classes,” he states, trying to pinpoint if he has seen Rafe in any of his lectures. Rafe shakes his head in a low chuckle, “No, I am not, Professor Smith. But my girlfriend is. You may remember her from the email you sent her, Y/N Y/L/N.” “Ah, yes. I do remember her. Unless you have the doctor's notes or are a doctor, then I am afraid I can’t do anything. It’s not my fault she didn’t plan accordingly,” Smith comments, not looking up from his laptop. 

Rafe closes the teacher’s laptop. This causes the man to look at him and he gives him a threatening smile. “I’m sorry to say that I don’t have any notes. But my angel won’t be needing one,” he sings, running his finger along the desk. The elder’s head tilts, “Really? And why would that be?” Rafe’s grin turns almost psychotic.

“Because I know a little secret about where you like to spend your Sunday nights. I have a lot of photographic evidence that I’m sure the university and your wife would love.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Let’s not play this game. My frat brother also likes to visit the little lady you like to have a dalliance with and he told me everything she told him. If that doesn’t convince you, then maybe the piece in my nightstand drawer will.”

The bob of the professor’s Adam’s apple is very evident, “Are you trying to blackmail me?” 

“Nice to see you finally caught up on what is going on. Now, are you going to do what I asked?”

Smith looks at Rafe with wide eyes and the points of his lips stretch. He can see the seriousness on Rafe’s face. His head gives a small nod, “Y-yes. I think I can do something for Ms. Y/L/N.” “That’s great. Let’s type her a nice apologetic email. And if you even think about telling anyone about this, then you might just find yourself six feet under,” Rafe intimidates, reopening the laptop for the professor. 

——

Wind passes through her hair as she makes her way towards Rafe. Her smile rivals the sun and she jumps into his arms. Her legs wrap around his waist. He grips the back of her thighs to keep her up. “What has you so happy, my angel? Only I’m allowed to do that,” Rafe complains, peppering kisses all over her face. She giggles at the assault of his lips, “Professor Smith let me redo the test without a doctor’s note. I got a 100%.” Rafe lets out a cheer, spinning her around. “That’s so great! You work so hard. I’m so proud of you, angel,” he praises. She gives her his thanks as she tells him in detail about her test, talking about how she figured out a question she got a little stuck on. He nods and listens, spotting the professor out of the corner of his eye. Professor Smith becomes frightened and he quickly looks away from Rafe. He smirks at the professor’s reaction, returning his full gaze to his girl.