#so I could get back to studying uninterrupted

[duhhisabell]

Not twice.

paring: vlad dracula tepes x fem!reader

────────୨ৎ────────

A/N: as Dracula’s second wife, he won’t let the same mistake he made happen twice.

IDEA FROM alucards-gf credit to them because all I did was make my own version of it which is still similar to theirs!

it was late and your fiancée was still absent from your bed, it was always cold without him so you set off to find him. You eventually came across him in his study, sat in the dim light provided by the fireplace which was seemingly always lit.

“ vlad, darling.. are you coming to bed?”

you asked, voice echoing through dracula’s study as you stood in in the doorway, your left arm barely caressing the frame.

His head perked slightly at the soft echo of your voice, his crimson eyes peering back at you before turning back to face the fire. A quiet hum left his lips before he answered your question. “ yes dear i’ll be up shortly, I just have some things to attend to first.”

You couldn’t help but frown upon his words, your eyes falling down to your feet as your hand slid up to rub your arm comfortingly. “ at this time?” You asked taking a few steps closer to Dracula so that you were stood beside his arm chair, your hand now resting atop his shoulder as your nightgown hung nicely from your frame: your body basking in the warmth of the fire roaring within the fireplace.

Vlad stayed silent for a moment, only another mere acknowledging hum leaving his lips at your second question of the night. “ it’s late my beloved we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, you should get some rest.” He said as if he didn’t hear your previous question even if you knew definitely he did.

“ you didn’t answer my question honey.” You commented, the hand that you had placed on his shoulder now rubbing small circles against it with your thumb.

Drac spared you another glance his red eyes looking through you, a thoughtful glimmer within them. A little sigh made it’s way past his lips before he rested his chin upon one of his palms. “ please go and get some rest my love?..” He asked the pleading undertone within his voice making him hard to deny. You leaned towards him before planting a sweet kiss upon his cheek your lips lingering there for a few uninterrupted seconds before you pulled away again. Within the next minute you had left his study, heading back up the spiral stairs where you had once came down to reach him.

Another frown tugged at your lips as you reached your bedroom. You quietly pushed the door open and settled yourself back down into the mattress that lay cold without your fiancée’s presence beside you. You couldn’t understand why he kept so much secret, and even when he chose to indulge you on the odd occasion you’d receive the most vague answer you thought possible. Your understanding of vampires and their common behaviours was limited, there unfortunately wasn’t a guide manual on how to perfectly understand them that you could just read to solve the current problems you were facing.

You laid in bed alone for what felt like hours, tossing and turning every few minutes while trying to put your mind at rest: but no matter how hard you seemed to try, your thoughts always subsided back to dracula. You just wanted to help him, to comfort him but you couldn’t do much if he didn’t let you. His behaviour almost mimicked that of someone who was scared, frightened of making some sort of mistake that they had before, desperate to try and do what was beneficial while also trying to hide their feelings.

You couldn’t stop the sight of that then protruded your lips as your eyes fell half lidded and heavy, no matter how much your body craved the sweet release of sleep you knew your mind wouldn’t switch of anytime soon. But..

Suddenly, your thoughts were cut short as your bedroom door reopened and you quickly closed your eyes, trying the hardest you could ever say you had to fake being asleep sleep. You heard the familiar unclipping rattle of your fiancé’s cape and the sound of it being draped over the bedside desk before you felt the covers being breifly lifted and the mattress sagging with a newly added weight.

You felt your mind slightly eased at the presence of vlad now being finally beside you, even if it took a while longer than you wanted. But no matter the fact that your fiancé’s body was now resting beside you, you still couldn’t settle, your mind was still full of questions and concerns.

‘ all I want to do is help him, if he just told me what was troubling him I could at least try to help..’

A low grunt was heard beside you before you hesitantly cracked an eyelid open to be met with Dracula’s features staring back at yours. “ You do realise that I can hear your thoughts, right love?” He asked, his tone carrying a conflicted hint which was somewhere in between mused and exhausted.

You felt your cheeks flush slightly before you reopened your eyes in defeat and frowned up at him: you had indeed forgotten that your beloved fiancé could in fact read minds. “ so you heard me then?” You asked, still curious about your prior thoughts and my your husband to-be was so eager to keep you at arms length about certain matters.

He nodded softly before turning back to look at you his crimson eyes piercing through your your soft hazel one. “ yes, I heard you.. and I can understand your frustrations with me.” Vlad told in a solemn tone that somehow soothed your mind in the usual charismatic way which he did.

He stayed silent for another few moments before sitting up and leaning himself back against the headboard of your shared bed causing the wood to groan beneath the added weight.

“ I’ve made many mistakes in my time and I don’t want to make the same ones twice.” As usual his tone somehow stayed mysterious, his words never changing from their standard poetic nature either. Each sentence that left his lips was like a brand new poem and it never failed to charm you.

Without warning he then took your hand in his, and for a split second you saw his face waver with a small amount of guilt.

“ I made the mistake of not turning my first wife, I have intended not to not make the same mistake with you.”

Your eyes widened at his confession, basking in the realisation that your fiancé wanted to turn you into a vampire which would explain his withdrawn and quiet behaviour recently. You didn’t really know what to say at first, you knew that the human’s your own kind had murdered Dracula’s last wife and you could only assume that he didn’t want the same happen thing to happen to you.

“ y-you want to turn me into a vampire?”

You asked the entirety of your voice filled with uncertainty at the matter. Vlad nodded again at your repetition of his own statement, his eyes closely watching your form as if he were stalking his prey.

“ If you want to be mine, I must, I will not make the same mistake twice.” By his tone it sounded more like he had already decided on it but you knew that he’d never do something as significant as that without asking for your consent before hand.

You looked Vlad in the eyes being met back with a cold stare that belonged not to a monster, but a man who was troubled and burdened by his past mistakes, a man that you loved deeply and would do anything for if it meant his worries would be put to rest.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you tried to come up with an answer semi quickly, not wanting to sound too reluctant due to a long pause caused from indecisive nerves.

“ you can turn me vlad.. if it’ll put your nerves to rest.” You agreed, a reassuring smile tugging at your lips as you saw a small glimmer of relief in Dracula’s eyes which was soon replaced by a smirk which sent a small shiver through your spine.

A mix of excitement and fear were now running tangent in your mind, as he drew himself slightly closer to you. “ then it’s settled, tomorrow, after the ceremony.” He clarified watching in slight amusement as he watched your emotions run wild within your mind.

At least you agreed.

[hotyanderedaddies]

The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 4:

Yandere Bully Interrupts Your "Date"

Part 0 │ Part 1 │ Part 2 │ Part 3

[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Jonathan was a nice guy, you figured.

The quarterback of the football team was always all smiles, and he seemed to never treat you differently despite being way higher up on the social ladder. Therefore, you sort of liked to tutor him. Not only did it feel like you were sometimes hanging out with a close friend, but it also made you feel good deep down that a guy was paying you some attention... even if it was just for school. But still.

And plus, you figured that he could potentially protect you from Blake.

Seriously, it was crystal clear that Jonathan lived in the gym after school, given his large muscles and athletic prowess.

Blake is muscular too, but he tends to hide his bulk underneath his leather jacket.

But still!

You tried your best to force your mind away from Blake as you and Jonathan pulled into the parking lot of a local diner. It was a small place where the two of you could be uninterrupted during your study session. It was one of the few local spots where Jonathan would treat you as payment for tutoring him, and you'd always order something sweet and tasty!

The two of you took your seats at one of the booths near the back, and your eyes stayed glued to the door. The constant fear of Blake finding you kept you on edge, and you found it hard to stay present with your brain always straying back to the bully.

You mentally berated yourself, annoyed that you kept thinking about Blake.

He'd claimed you as his, and you'd gotten three strikes.

Both of those spelt trouble in your mind, and you wanted nothing more than to avoid the guy. Therefore, you figured that being away from school with someone big who could protect you was the best course of action.

Jonathan and you placed your orders and tried to start the tutoring session, but it was close to impossible for you to get your nerves settled.

"Is something on your mind?" the jock finally asked when he'd noticed you staring nervously at the door for the millionth time.

"O-oh!" you mumbled, jerking out of your panicked daze. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little... distracted." You sheepishly smiled at the end of your statement, hoping that the jock wouldn't catch onto you inadvertently using him as protection.

Jonathan pursed his lips into a thin line, deep in thought. "So," he slowly asked, shrugging his broad shoulders, "is it Blake?"

You jerked back in your seat, shocked. "Wh-what do you mean?" you stuttered, trying your best to force an innocent smile onto your face.

Jonathan scrunched up his face in confusion. "Oh, my bad," he muttered. "I just thought that you two were having couple problems."

"'Couple problems'?" you repeated.

Jonathan shrugged again. "Well, yeah," he grunted. "I mean, by the way Blake talks about you, I thought the two of you were dating..."

"The way he talks about me?" you repeated again, feeling yourself go pale at the words you heard.

Never in your life would you have ever expected Blake to talk about you in any sort of positive manner. You always tried to avoid him like the plague, hence you'd preferred if he didn't know that you existed. But if he were to talk about you, you half-expected him to curse your name and call you the scum of the earth given how badly he's beaten people up all around you.

Thinking about it, there were several of Blake's victims you knew personally:

Kyle, the bully who's stolen your lunch money back in the sixth grade. He'd gotten his face beaten to a pulp, causing his nose to be a little crooked now.

Tristan, the guy who'd called you ugly on picture day. Blake had based his face so hard that his front teeth had been knocked out, totally ruining his picture.

Cesar, the douche who'd smashed your science project to smithereens for a YouTube prank. Well, Blake had filmed himself stomping him in the nuts, posting it to Cesar's now defunct account.

Wait...

"Wh-what has Blake said... about me?" you asked, feeling your heart fall to the floor as you thought everything over. It all had to be a coincidence, right?

The waitress delivered your food, distracting the jock for a second as he began to eat his fries. "Oh, um, he says lots of things about you," he mumbled, his mouth full of food.

That didn't really help.

"Like what?" you pressed.

The jock took a loud gulp of his soda. "Well, he says that he--"

He was cut off by the loud slamming of the front door. The both of you were altered to the booming noise, making you both flinch as you turned to see none other than Blake enter the tiny diner.

The bully's eyes scanned the area before landing on you, narrowing in your direction.

Uh-oh...

To be continued...

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

I'm sorry about the lack of tagging people! I'm forever and always appreciative of everyone's interest in this story. Unfortunately, I just can't tag everyone at the moment. I apologize and hope you all understand!

[landopoet]

somewhere in between.

pairing lando x reader, university au

synopsis in which lando falls victim to an irresistible and mysterious girl, who knows nothing about love or how to keep it around. not until it’s too late, anyway.

warnings angsty fic, no use of y/n

author’s note wrote this fic in three days, new record! hope you enjoy, and as always, thank you to @clovermoters for being my little cheerleader and bestie 5eva <3 love u millions!

₊ ⊹

You first met Lando in a cramped lecture hall during the first semester of university.

The professor was talking about something that you paid no mind to, mindlessly transcribing as much of the information as you heard. You knew you could find the full lecture online later, anyway, as this professor made it convenient for students to slack off by sending all his PowerPoints and Word documents to them.

As your fingers flickered over the keyboard, your attention became divided between what the professor was saying and the curious personality that just bursted in through the door.

He was something of a mess— damp curls stuck to his forehead as a wide grin spread across his face, below his lips were speckled hairs that looked like a sad version of a goatee. His breathless and grinning self found you in the third row from the front, and he took a seat without asking for permission.

“I hate the rain,” he whispered as he unzipped his damp jacket.

You glanced briefly at him, noticing how much more vibrant he seemed up close. He seemed like the type of person that exudes warmth just by being, like you didn’t have to go outside to get warmed up by the sun and merely sitting next to him would grow even the smallest spark into a flame.

It made you nervous.

Without saying a word, and instead choosing to hold an uncomfortable amount of eye contact, you turned back to your laptop and realised you missed about half the lecture by now.

The stranger pulled out a notepad and a pen, and scribbled down a few words before pushing the paper towards you.

What did I miss? It read, in surprisingly neat handwriting.

You had half a mind to ignore him again, to simply pay attention to the class and pretend he didn’t exist. He hadn’t existed in your orbit before and there was no reason for him to join now, so there was no reason for why you would pick that pen up and write a response.

Despite your hesitation, you picked up his pen and wrote back: Nothing important. He’ll send you the whole lecture in an e-mail later anyway.

The man watched as your fingers pushed the notebook back towards him, a small smile playing on his lips once he realised he had put a tiny crack in your shell.

There was something about you that made him curious, intrigued, despite spending barely ten minutes in your presence.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the man grin at your reply, and something in your stomach tightened.

—

Amidst the noise of the campus cafeteria, at a table in the farthest corner you could find, you found yourself nestled between a pile of books and electronics. Sure, it’d be more convenient to go to the library and study there, but you actually found the cacophonous sound of mixed conversations quite soothing to your mind.

It reminded you that you were alone in your space but not lonely, whereas a library would only discourage you from doing any work because everyone there is always quiet, there’s no distant chatter about the guys from the university football team or the professor who grades work based on handwriting.

And at the cafeteria, you could be in your own orbit, surrounded by glimmering stars that made you feel less alone. It was just you, your books and your uninterrupted study.

You continued to write down the main notes of a lecture you skipped last week due to a sick day. The flu was going around and you managed to catch a weak case of it, and today was your first day back from bedrotting in your dorm.

The discordant feeling of your studying was interrupted by a familiar voice. “Hey,” you raised your head to look at who exactly it was.

A small look of surprise flashed across your face when you realised it’s the stranger from the lecture a few weeks ago. He looked a lot less messy now and, instead of a damp jacket and dripping curls, he was dressed in a knit sweater over a button-up shirt and black dress pants with his curls in a neat bunch on his head. It’s only now you noticed that they cascaded down his neck into a mullet. You never really liked the look of them, but he seemed to suit it well.

You realise you hadn’t answered him and he was just standing there awkwardly, two paper cups in hand. When he noticed you glancing over at the items he held, he cleared his throat. “I got an extra by accident, want it?”

After a moment of hesitation you curtly nodded your head and he took that as an invitation to sit across from you as he slid the cup to your side of the table. “It’s green tea with honey and lemon. Heard it’s good for brain power or something, and I noticed you weren’t in lectures the past week so,” he explained.

“Thanks,” you brought the cup up to your lips and took a small sip, the warmth and flavour of green tea caressing your tongue. It clicks in your brain that he noticed your absence and a warmth spreads across your chest. You’re not sure if it’s from the tea anymore.

It was also then that you realised you didn’t know his name and glanced over at the cup across from yours— the one his slender fingers were holding for warmth— in hopes of catching a glimpse of who the stranger was.

It wasn’t cold enough outside for coats and scarves, but chilly enough to seek out heat in any possible place. Many couples on campus found themselves holding hands in each other’s pockets or sharing those two person gloves, but you, and the stranger across from you, found yourselves caressing paper cups full of warm liquids. You wondered what his drink of choice was and glanced at the cup for far too long, he noticed.

“Peppermint tea, it’s my favourite.” He gives you a soft smile before nudging his chin towards your stack of books. “What’re you reading?”

“Just something for class,” you explain in your usual calm and quiet voice. He found it endearing— the way you didn’t stand out or try to be known. You were quiet, focused and driven, and that was something he never knew he was attracted to until he met you.

You didn’t remember him from before the lecture he was late for, but he always observed you from across campus. The way your hair fell over your face in gentle waves and you stuck your tongue out, focused on scribbling down whatever you had in your mind.

Maybe it was the intelligence he was attracted to, or maybe it was just you.

He taunted. “You always read for class. Don’t you read books just for fun sometimes?”

“I do,” you shrug. You didn’t feel like explaining every detail of your life to him, and it maybe even bothered you a little that he expected you to be an open book that he could flip through and learn whatever he wanted to.

“Alright,” a challenging tone outlines his voice as it hits your ears. “What’s the best book you’ve read recently? Not including whatever’s in your stack right now.”

You took your bottom lip between your teeth and thought about it for a second. “The Bell Jar.”

“Pssh,” he huffed. “Bleak.”

Your eyebrows drew in closer, face riddled with confusion as you tilted your head to the side. “Some people like bleak things.”

The stranger nodded, taking a moment to glance around your set up— the laptop your fingers had so hastily typed lecture notes on was covered in various stickers; your hair was put up in a flower claw clip; your hoodie had a graphic and some words that he could figure came from a song of some sorts. He noticed you added a little blue eyeshadow to the inner corner of your eye and your eyeliner wasn’t sharp, but it was noticeable and suited you well.

He doesn’t know you well enough to draw solid conclusions, but his voice hums in your ears when he says, “yeah, but you don’t seem like the type to.”

—

You kept running into each other— at the library, in lectures, in the campus cafe. It wasn’t intentional, you two just happened to be there, but Lando— you finally learnt his name— took it as fate. He kept trying to convince you that the universe gifted him to you as a way to crack open your shell. You began to believe him.

Over time, you two became friends and you weren’t really sure how it happened. It’s just that Lando never stopped talking to you, never let you fully retreat back into yourself. He made you feel like being quiet wasn’t the same as being invisible.

“You like me,” Lando said one night, as you sat on the steps outside a party neither of you wanted to be at.

You told him that you’d most likely end up leaving early, and he teased you for it. But you went anyway, for no other reason than to spend more time with him. Lando thought it was endearing how you came to the party, despite scowling the whole time.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re tolerable.”

He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours as his eyes looked over at you trying to hide your smile. “Admit it, you like me.”

You exhale through your nose and let your lips curl up into a little smile. “Fine. You’re not awful.’

Lando smiled at you like you had handed him something precious. He looked out at the street and watched how the night slowly creeped its shadows over the peaceful scenery ahead. There was a feeling in the air that felt awkward, scary and comforting all at once. “Well, for the record, I like you, too.”

You tucked your hands into the pockets of your coat to hide how anxiety had crawled down your spine and nestled in the tremoring taps of your fingers. Lando watched as you stood up and insisted on walking you back to your dorm. As the cold of autumn air creeped down your neck, you found yourselves outside the campus dorms, on the stairs, neither of you making a move to go inside.

Lando’s hands were anxiously balling into fists by his side, and then his fingers stretched out. You noticed his hands a lot. How they were always so present when he’s speaking and trying to explain topics that you didn’t understand or how he would casually touch the arm or back of someone he was speaking to. You noticed it because you noticed everything. He never did that to you.

The question left your mouth before you could stop it. “Why don’t you touch me like you do to everyone else?”

Lando blinked, genuine surprise flashing across his face as he thought of the answer. “I didn’t think you’d like that.”

“I wouldn’t,” you admitted, chin resting on your knees as your arms wrapped around your bent legs. “But still.”

Lando hesitated. He gently observed you— your scarf hid most of your face and your hands were so softly pressed against your calves. Eventually, you felt the soft caress of his knuckles against yours. It was light, barely there, but you felt it in your chest.

“Better?” His green eyes locked on yours as you turned to look at him.

You nodded and he didn’t pull away.

—

You kissed for the first time in his apartment, after an argument.

In the small kitchen of his apartment, as he leaned back against the electric stove and you leaned back on the counter across from him, Lando pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you even like me?”

You looked up at him with a glint of uncertainty in your eye that pierced him right in the chest. It was all so quick— the feather-soft touches on your waist as he walked past you; late-night study sessions at each other’s apartment or dorm, that usually ended up with the other person staying over for the night; the ‘accidental’ scooting closer to you whenever you sat next to each other during bonding events with your coursemates.

Somewhere in all of that— in the longing gaze at you from across the lecture hall, in the casual inclusion of you in the conversations with his mates, in the words spoken while drowsy with sleep— you started feeling it, too. And your first instinct wasn’t to embrace the feelings and allow your friendship to evolve into something more.

The most logical thing you could’ve thought to do was deny and pull away.

There’s no way Lando actually likes you. You spoke to your best friends, who lived on opposite sides of town, but could tell that Lando genuinely did like you. For some odd reason, you wouldn’t let yourself believe it. You had a habit of pulling away when things got too real, and Lando was a victim of it.

It was unexpected, but the flurry of unexpressed feelings and you pulling away as soon as everything got too real made Lando insecure, scared and lost.

A few weeks ago, he noticed you ignoring his texts, avoiding his eyes when you caught a glimpse of him entering the lecture hall, excusing yourself from activities he’d usually bring you to.

When he finally caught you alone in the halls of your university, he grabbed you by the elbow— gently, of course, but harsh enough to pull you away from the group of people next to you– and forced you to look at him. “You’re avoiding me,” he stated, a slight hint of anger and worry in his voice. “Why?”

“I’m not avoiding you, Lando.” You shook his hands off of your elbows. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy with what? I know your daily routine like the back of my hand, and at some point, I was part of it.” He sounded hurt, like you pushing him away and distancing yourself actually meant something to him. You thought he wouldn’t notice and that he’d let you go, and things would go back to how they were— you’d be two strangers again.

“You are,” you bit your lip and tried to come up with something to say. “I’ve just been busy, Lando. I took up extra assignments from our professor, I need my grade up.”

“And that’s really it?” Lando crosses his arms over his chest.

You sighed and slumped your shoulders. “Can we please not do this here? People are watching.”

Lando scoffed and shook his head. “Fine. Come over for dinner and then we’ll talk.”

You watched him walk away, knowing you had hurt him more than anticipated. Obviously you pushing him away would’ve upset him, you just never thought that he’d actually care enough to try and pull you back in.

And, fortunately for him, it worked, because now you’re in his tiny kitchen that seems to get smaller every second you don’t speak.

You fiddled with your entwined fingers as you looked down, feeling Lando’s gaze burning into you. Finally, you look up at him. “I do.”

“Then why don’t you act like it?” He begs, hands in the air as he steps closer to you. “Why don’t you show that you like me?”

Something inside you cracked, like a part of your soul has been revealed to him and you had no choice but to let him see it. “I… I don’t know how.”

Lando exhaled sharply before taking your face into his hands and pulling you in. His lips were gentle and softly moulded against yours, not moving until he was sure you wouldn’t pull away.

Meanwhile, you felt like the ground had disappeared beneath your feet. You kissed him back as if you were making up for the time you spent distancing yourself and pushing him away, and Lando smiled against your teeth before pulling you in closer.

—

A week later you found yourself at another party, this time accompanied not only by Lando but also your friend, Blair, who was a good friend of Lando’s as well.

You sat on the kitchen counter with Blair right next to you in her neat, maroon dress and mary janes on her feet. Lando had left you two half an hour ago to go find some of his other friends and catch up, so you weren’t worried about having to leave alone at the end of the night.

Alcohol tasted bitter on your tongue, but even more so when you finally caught a glimpse of the curly head of hair you had begun to miss. He sat snugly on the couch with a girl in his lap, Lando’s lips moving hungrily against hers— completely opposite to all the times he’s kissed you.

You watch them for a minute, then three, then five, and when your ogling reached half an hour, Blair nudged your shoulder. “You could say something, y’know?”

You shook your head. “It’s not like that.”

It’s true. You weren’t together, not really. You two never defined it, never talked about what it was. Lando kissed other people. You pretended it didn’t bother you.

Blair gave you a look. It did bother you. “But it is.”

That night, you went home early. Lando didn’t follow you.

—

You found yourself at his apartment the very next evening. He had asked you to come over and help him study for an upcoming exam, and you weren’t one to turn down someone in need, especially not Lando.

The study session was as normal as usual— Lando’s touch lingered on your arm when he finally understood what he needed to write down; he nudged your shoulder when he noticed you were spacing out; he kept saying sweet things and stealing kisses.

And, as per usual, you two lost track of time and it was too late for you to take a train back to your campus. You were sure the security guards would give you a hard time about coming back to your dorm at one in the morning.

You ended up in Lando’s bed again. Although you two were never intimate. The most that’s ever happened between you two was Lando’s hands up your shirt, before you stopped him. It got too real, you got scared and Lando let it go.

Lando was sleeping soundly beside you as you stared at the ceiling. Except he wasn’t— he watched the silhouette of your face, barely illuminated by the moon behind the curtains.

“Are you in love with me?” He asked, half-asleep beside you. Lando’s not sure what prompted the question, but something in him needed to know that your jealousy last night wasn’t just because.

You just stared at the ceiling. “No.”

It was a while before he responded. Then, in a barely-there whisper, “liar.”

You turned to face away from him, pressing your face into the pillow.

The two of you kept doing this— circling each other, never quite holding on, never quite letting go.

You mustered up the courage to turn around and face him again. He was already looking at you as if he expected it. “Why do you put up with me?”

“What do you mean?”

You exhale deeply. “I’m a difficult person to be friends with, let alone be… whatever we are. Why don’t you just let that go?”

“Because I love you, obviously.” He said it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Your throat tightened. “You don’t have to.”

Under the dim moonlight, still shadowed by thin curtains, you could see Lando’s expression soften as his hand came up to caress your cheek. “I know. But I do.”

You fell asleep before saying it back. Lando didn’t need you to.

—

When it all became too real again— when Lando told you he loved you everyday and you felt the pressure of reciprocation weighing on your shoulders— you started to pull away again. This time, he let you.

Things ended slowly, like a candle burning out and you were the wax dripping into different squiggled shapes until neither of you merged together anymore.

You told yourself that it was for the best. That you were too difficult, too closed off for someone like him. That he deserved someone who could love him, without hesitation or fear.

It’s been a few weeks now, but some nights you lay awake thinking about him. The way he could make anyone feel like they belonged by simply talking to them. The way he had told you he loved you like it wasn’t the hardest thing for you to handle and like it was the simplest truth he could ever have told.

You continued to tell yourself that you did the right thing.

You told yourself this every time you sat in lectures and glanced over at the empty seat beside you, where Lando would slide in all breathless and charming. You told yourself this as you walked past the campus cafe, ignoring how the corner booth you two had claimed as your own was now taken by a couple— one much happier than you ever were.

You told yourself this as you lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince yourself that you felt free rather than lost.

And you were beginning to believe it. Until he called.

It was late—past midnight—and you were half asleep, blurry eyes watching as Lando’s contact lit up your screen.

Your finger hovered over the screen, hesitant, before pressing accept. For a moment, all you heard was shallow breathing. Then his voice, quiet, unsure. “Hey.”

You sat up, anxiously gripping your blanket. When your silence extended past his expectation, he let out a laugh. Breathy and sad. “Fuck. I shouldn’t have called.”

“Are you drunk?” Your eyebrows furrowed, a pang in your heart so strong that it made you nauseous.

After a while, he admitted. “Yeah, but that’s not why I called.”

You closed your eyes, rubbing your temple. “Lando-“

“No. Just… Just let me say this, okay?” His voice wavered, either with a cry or due to him being drunk. “I know you don’t want this. I know you don’t want me. But, fuck, I don’t know how to stop wanting you.”

Lando heard your breath hitch.

“I keep thinking that one day I’ll wake up and it won’t hurt anymore,” Lando continued, his voice thick with something you couldn’t name. “That I’ll wake up, get dressed, see you in class and it won’t sting anymore. But it does. It always does.”

You pressed a hand to your mouth, eyes burning with unshed tears. “Lando.” Your plea goes unnoticed as he continues.

“I keep replaying it all.” He admitted, voice trembling, a little quieter. “All the times I could’ve said something different, something better. All the times we stayed up at my apartment talking, and you looked at me like I was something you couldn’t figure out.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as your back plopped down against your pillows, tears running down your cheeks and into the fabric beneath you.

“And I wonder if I had just held on a little tighter, would you have stayed? Because I would have stayed for you,” he whispered. “I would’ve chosen you every single time.”

A silence stretched out between the two of you— fragile, breaking, endless.

Finally, he let out a shaky breath. “That’s all from me.”

He expected you to say something. To ramble on and on about how he’s wrong, how you wouldn’t have stayed, or maybe how you would’ve but he just didn’t try hard enough.

Instead, you gripped your phone, knuckles white. There were so many things you could say— that you missed him, that you were sorry, that you had loved him, too— loved him so much that it terrified you.

And fear had always been the loudest in your mind. So you did what you always do, you stayed silent. Lando exhaled, a sound that broke something inside you. “Goodbye, then.”

You were left in the silence and dark of your room, only the ghost of his voice still ringing in your ear. You told yourself that this was the right thing.

—

The next time you saw him was completely unexpected. It was a week after the call.

You had avoided places where you might run into him. Your routine— the one that previously contained Lando— was now a careful and predictable thing. You had meticulously planned it out— arrive to class early, leave early, avoid people who reminded you of him. You thought that if you stayed out of his orbit— that if you were just a distant star— the space between you two could be filled with anything but regret. But that didn’t work.

It was a Tuesday, the sun starting to dip low in the sky, casting long shadows across the campus. You had just finished an afternoon seminar and were heading toward the library, your bag slung over your shoulder, mind focused on the reading you had to catch up on.

As you turned a corner, you almost collided with someone.

Lando.

His eyes widened as he stepped back, as if surprised to see you. There was an awkward beat, a brief second where you both just stood there, locked in a kind of frozen disbelief.

You didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t planned for this moment. You hadn’t expected to see him again—certainly not so soon, and certainly not with that look on his face, the kind of look that made you realize how much distance had formed between you.

“Hey,” Lando said, his voice flat, like he was unsure of what else to say.

“Hey,” you managed, heart racing.

There was a long silence. You tried to read his expression, but it was difficult—like he was hiding something. Or maybe it was just that he was different now.

“I…” Lando started, then stopped himself. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. “I’m not gonna be around much longer.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Lando ran a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “I’m leaving the university.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “You’re what?”

“Leaving,” he repeated, quieter this time. He finally looked up at you, his eyes heavy with something—something you couldn’t quite place. “I’m transferring. Going somewhere else.”

Your stomach dropped. “When?”

“A few weeks.” He shrugged, like it didn’t matter, like it wasn’t a big deal. But his voice wavered. He wasn’t as casual as he pretended to be.

You felt your chest tighten. “Why?”

Lando looked at you, then away again. “It’s just… not working here anymore. With everything. The classes, the people, the—” He exhaled, cutting himself off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need a change. I just… need something different.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You had so many questions, so many things you wanted to say. But the words felt stuck in your throat, like they couldn’t escape, like they’d been buried under the weight of too many unsaid things.

“I didn’t tell anyone yet,” Lando continued, glancing at you, then quickly looking away again. “But I thought you should know. I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.”

You shook your head slowly, trying to process the weight of his words. “So… you’re just leaving?”

He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah. I think it’s for the best.”

For the best. You felt like you had been punched in the gut. There was no anger in his voice, no bitterness—only resignation, like he had already made peace with something you couldn’t understand.

A lump formed in your throat. “I didn’t know you were unhappy here.”

“I wasn’t. Not at first,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was confessing something. “But… things changed. I changed.”

Your heart twisted. You had been too caught up in your own fears, your own decisions, to see how much he had been struggling. You had let him go without realizing how far he had already drifted.

“I just thought you should know,” Lando repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before I go.”

You nodded slowly, your thoughts spinning. There was so much you wanted to say, but you couldn’t. You didn’t know how to make him understand. How could you explain that you never meant to push him away? That it had been your own fear, your own inability to deal with what was happening between you two that had caused all this?

But you couldn’t say any of that.

Instead, you said something simpler, something that felt inadequate but necessary.

“I’m sorry.”

Lando shook his head quickly, as if brushing off your words. “Don’t apologize.”

A silence stretched out, heavy and suffocating. You felt like you were losing him all over again, but this time, it was different. This time, it wasn’t just about distance. It was about the reality of him choosing to leave.

After a long pause, Lando sighed, his voice breaking through the quiet. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not even…” He stopped, as if he couldn’t finish the sentence. Then, with a small, sad smile, he added, “I just wish things had been different.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You couldn’t find the strength to say anything more.

Lando looked at you one last time, his gaze lingering for a moment, like he was waiting for something. Then, he turned and walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading as he disappeared into the crowd.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, as the world continued to move around you.

And for the first time in a long while, you understood what it meant to truly lose someone.

[moonwalkingprincess]

Mockingbird Part 1: Meeting Hailee & Alaina

Summary: You're meeting Hailee and Alaina as Marshall's girlfriend.

Pairing: Marshall Mathers x singer reader

Words: 1185

Warnings: none

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Marshall said softly, his hand finding yours across the center console. His voice was reassuring, but your stomach was still doing flips. Easy for him to say. He wasn’t about to meet an 8-year-old who might decide the fate of your entire relationship.

“I just… I’m not used to kids,” you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

He exhaled slowly, his grip on your hand tightening a little. “It’s important to me that you two get along. She’s my whole world. If you and Hailie can’t connect… then this won’t work.”

That hit you like a truck. You gave him a look. 

“But,” he added quickly, “you know… no pressure.”

You gave him a tight smile and pulled into the driveway, heart thumping. He got out first, walking up toward the house just as the front door swung open. His ex, Kim, stepped out with 2  small suitcases in hand, her expression unreadable. You stayed in the car, gripping the steering wheel like it could anchor you.

Then you panicked. What kind of introduction was this, through a windshield? That was weird, right? You didn’t want Hailie’s first impression of you to be a hesitant wave from behind glass. So, you pushed the door open and stepped out… only to lock eyes with Kim.

Oh no. Abort mission. Abort.

You turned right back around, diving back into the car like you were in a spy movie. Marshall shot you a look and rolled his eyes, amused.

“So that’s your new girlfriend?” Kim’s voice floated across the yard, smug and sharp.

“Yeah,” Marshall replied flatly.

“She seems nice. Have you written a song about killing her yet?”

He didn’t respond, jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitch in his cheek. But then, cool as ever, he fired back.

“Have you cheated on your new boyfriend yet?”

Silence.

And then—thank God—two little figures emerged from the house. Alaina and Hailie, backpacks bouncing, hugging Kim goodbye before trotting over to the car.

You got out again, this time with purpose. No turning back.

“Hi!” a tiny voice piped up. It was Hailie, blonde hair in a ponytail, pink hoodie slightly too big for her.

“I’m Hailie!”

You smiled, kneeling slightly to her level. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

She tilted her head, studying you for a moment. “You’re really pretty.”

You blinked. Your cheeks heated up immediately. You were blushing—an 8-year-old made you blush.

“Thank you,” you said, heart softening. “But look at you guys. You’re adorable.”

Alaina giggled beside her and grabbed your hand like you’d known each other forever. Hailie climbed into the backseat next to Marshall, her eyes already focused on him.

You took them all to a burger place, hoping it would ease the tension—and it worked. Laughter filled the booth as you shared fries and chocolate milkshakes. Alaina talked your ear off, telling you about school, her favorite cartoons, and a cat she wanted. Hailie was quieter, often next to her dad, but you caught her smiling at you when you weren't looking. 

It wasn't perfect, but it was real. And it was a start. 

__

After lunch at the burger place, Marshall had one last surprise: he’d rented out the entire water park just for the four of you. It was a bold move — not only because it was expensive, but because it meant uninterrupted time with his girls… and you. Alone.

You weren't a kid anymore, but the moment you stepped inside, the smell of chlorine and the echo of splashes sparked something in you. Suddenly, you were sprinting toward water slides like it was second nature.

“Come on!” Alaina shouted, grabbing your hand.

Hailee had already climbed into Marshall’s raft. With a little help, you and Alaina settled into yours, and the race began.

The slides twisted with laughter and screams, water crashing around every turn. When you all landed at the bottom — a messy, soaking pile — the argument started.

“We were totally first,” Marshall said, trying to act serious but already grinning.

“No way! Me and Lainey had the lead,” you insisted, nudging him playfully.

“Nuh-uh.” He stepped closer and leaned in, pressing a soft, wet kiss on your lips.

“EWWWW!” Hailee and Alaina shrieked in unison.

Without warning, Marshall splashed water at them. Chaos broke loose — four people, one water war. You and Marshall teamed up, cornering the girls with sneaky splashes and laugh-filled sneak attacks.

You tried going easy on them. They were just kids. But Marshall was all in.

“If they lose, they’ll learn,” he said with a smirk.

And lose they did.

Alaina pouted. Hailee blinked hard, trying not to cry — but her bottom lip trembled.

“You guys… you’re not gonna win everything,” Marshall said, drying his face.

Still, you couldn’t help it. Your heart ached at their disappointment. So you caved.

“Ice cream time,” you said with a smile, already headed for the snack stand.

Hailee wrapped her arms around your waist out of nowhere. “Thanks,” she whispered, sticky fingers pressing against your swim shirt. That hug — warm, honest — told you everything. She liked you. Or, at least, she was starting to.

The ride home was filled with sleepy yawns, wet hair, and giggles. Marshall made it his mission to keep them awake — rapping silly, off-beat rhymes that made them burst out laughing. You watched him from the passenger seat, one elbow resting out the window. He was so soft with them.

When you got back, the girls crashed on the couch, towels wrapped like cocoons. You threw on a cartoon and headed to the kitchen. Dinner needed cooking, and you offered to handle it — but Marshall wouldn’t let you do it alone. Instead, he danced between the cabinets, singing along to the playlist you’d put on.

At one point, he twirled you by the hand, dipping you dramatically. You burst into laughter, and he kissed your forehead.

From the couch, Alaina watched the whole thing.

“I hope they get married,” she said dreamily, a half-eaten carrot stuck in hand.

Hailee crossed her arms. “She’s not better than Mom, though,” she said. But it sounded less like a declaration… and more like a reminder to herself.

She bit her lip.

She remembered how Mom never gave her ice cream when she cried. Mom usually yelled, or stormed off. Y/N hadn’t yelled once. She listened. She hugged. She smiled even when Hailee gave her attitude.

And worse?

Alaina loved her.

She wanted to sit next to Y/N at dinner. She braided Y/N’s hair when no one asked. She laughed at everything she said.

Hailee could see it happening — this slow shift, like gravity pulling everyone toward Y/N.

And then there was her dad.

She saw the way he looked at her too. The softness in his eyes. The way he held her waist, or leaned in when she spoke.Hailee was only eight, but she wasn’t stupid.

Y/N wasn’t just some girl. She was someone really special to him. Hailee wasn’t ready for that.

Should I make this like a series?

part 2

[cottonlemonade]

Brushing Your Stress Away

word count: 1321 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: University AU!Tsukishima x chubby!Reader

genre: spice with fluff

warnings: mdni

request: Hello!! can me and my dear Tsukki get an 11 and 23 for lunch before i procrastinate? || fluffy-spicy, dealing with exam stress + studying together with boyfriend Tsukishima

Tsukishima didn’t even flinch when the pen zoomed past his head, bounced off the wall, and landed perfectly in his hamper. Without looking up from his notes, he asked, “Tough chapter?”

You groaned and let yourself fall on your back, arms and legs outspread like a starfish, “I wanted to study art because I love painting, not because I love remembering dates! This is impossible!”

You dramatically flung an arm over your eyes to drive your point home that you were done with studying.

“Come on, only 32 more minutes on the timer.”, your boyfriend said, turning a page and pushing your art history book closer to you.

“No.”, you pouted, wiggling a foot in defiance, “Don’t wanna.”

“So, you plan on working in a museum as… what? A barista?”

Letting your arm fall off your face, you turned your head to look at him, “You could come visit me during your breaks.”

“Not likely. Coffee is disgusting.”

“Not the point, Kei.”

“Resign to your fate or study for another 31 minutes. Either way, stop whining. Some of us want to focus.”

You sat back up, squinting indignantly at your boyfriend, who skillfully ignored you as his eyes skimmed the pages.

Letting out a small huff of boredom, you looked around his bedroom. When he invited you to come spend the break with him in Miyagi you were excited, even more so when on the drive here he casually mentioned that you’d be alone because his older brother was staying at uni with his friends and his mother was away on some conference. But four days of your precious week had already passed without so much as a roaming hand.

On a whim, you reached for your pencil case to take out a cheap replica of an old artist’s brush - a small gift from the souvenir shop Kei had gotten you the last time you visited a museum together. Turning it in your fingers to have something to do, you stared at the page of your book, admiring the pictures at least.

Kei meanwhile, chewed the inside of his cheek, throwing a quick glance over his glasses at you. He knew he wasn’t doing a particularly great job as a boyfriend right now.

To not make it too obvious what he was looking forward to the most during this week together - uninterrupted alone time with no nosy roommate to worry about or forgetting his key and having to spend the rest of his night on a bench in front of his building - he had put together quite the itinerary under the guise of how much you’ve nagged him to show you his hometown (you asked once). Somehow, being in his childhood home after the months away at university made him almost shy. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he felt guilty for bringing you here without telling his mother. However, if his shower thoughts were any indication, he wanted nothing more than to make use of the empty house with you - not seeming too eager, of course. He flipped a page without having read the previous one. Unless he finally acted on his impulses, you would return to academic life without even a good solid make-out session at this point.

A soft caressing sensation on his arm made him snap out of his thoughts. He found you running your brush along a faint vein on his wrist.

“What are you doing?”, he asked unnecessarily but didn’t pull away.

“Nothing.”

The smooth bristles followed his long fingers now one by one.

Without any conviction, he said instinctively, “Stop that.”, whilst really hoping you wouldn’t.

Luckily, you never listened to him, so instead you brought the brush up to his neck and tickled the sensitive spot under his ear. He shuddered and you laughed.

“You think this is funny?”, he asked.

“Hilarious, actually.”, you said.

He got to his knees and all too easily made you tumble backward, making sure to catch your head in his hand before towering over you. With a superior sneer, he took the brush from you.

“Let’s see how ticklish you are.”

Trapped between his long legs, you giggled and squirmed when he ran the brush under your chin, and you ducked your head between your shoulders to defend yourself. So he brought it to your ear.

“Stop!”

Your hand shot up to cover one side, but he just took this to mean he could attack the other. He sat back on his heels and in an attempt to hide the outline in his sweats, pursed his lips in fake pondering.

“Hmm… looks like you leave me no choice.”, he shrugged with a heavy sigh and unceremoniously lifted the hem of your shirt, making extra sure his palm, rough from the years of playing volleyball, dragged gently over your pillowy tummy as he did. You became very still, waiting for his next move. He felt you pressing your thighs together between his legs and scoffed while painting invisible lines on your skin as if he were sketching the outline of your bra.

“This is very much in the way.”, he said more to himself than to you and pulled a cup down from your breast. He leaned forward now, his free hand holding him up next to your head and with precise little teasing strokes he flicked the brush over your perked nipple. You made a small noise, one he loved to hear so much, so he did it again, and again.

“Pretty sure the other one is just as sensitive.”, he murmured and without warning, he pulled down the second cup, tucking it safely under your breast, then got the brush into position. You bucked your hips under him when he twirled the bristles this time.

“You’re right, this is fun.”, he noted and kissed you, not letting up on the teasing with the brush. You ground against him, making him gasp into the kiss.

“Will you finally focus on your studies if I give you what you want?” He had trouble catching his breath, was met with a very enthusiastic nod, and kissed you again.

Kei moved back, slowly dragging your sweats down with him, and had to suppress a dreamy groan. You were nothing short of perfection. With the pudgy tummy, the generous love handles, and full thighs you had always reminded him of beauty depicted in Renaissance paintings.

He shifted to lay on his stomach, propped up on his forearms, spinning the brush in his long fingers. A little spring of pride bloomed in him when he noticed a wet patch on your panties already.

The more he dragged the brush over the soaked fabric the more he noticed a definite gleam on the bristles. With the very tip of it, he focused on the pronounced little nub of your clit and was rewarded with a high moan. He was curious if he’d be able to make you cum just with a simple little painter’s brush when the door to his room slid open.

“WOAH!”

Akiteru spun around to look away.

“Sorry! I just heard a noise and - don’t mind me.”

“Why aren’t you in Tokyo?!”, Kei yelled in frustration, scrambling to his feet. A low rustling behind him told him you followed his example.

“Needed some fresh air?” His brother shrugged awkwardly, still with his back to him. “I’ll uhm… I’ll head to the convenience store. Should take me maybe 20 minutes. Do with that information what you will.”

He grabbed around behind him to find the handle before pulling the door closed again, then called from the hallway, “I’ll bring you some snacks!”

Kei exhaled, rubbing his eyes under his glasses, “I’m sorry… y/n, I- mfpg”, he was interrupted by you turning his head and yanking him down to you by the collar of his shirt to kiss him.

“You heard him, 20 minutes. Let’s go.”

a/n: reader was on mission! Thank you to the anon who requested this prompt! I hope you enjoyed it 🌟

[sapphire-writes]

Season’s Greetings

summary: You call Aemond to cheer him up during finals.

pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader

can also be read as an Our Last Summer universe oneshot

warnings: 18+/NSFW/MDNI - smut, dirty talk, phone sex shenanagins, sort of exhibitionism, masturbation, mutual masturbation, language

word count: 1.7k

note: oh CUM all ye faithful for I have written another smutty little fic! appreciate all of you who stuck around despite my writer's block! happy holidays and a slutty new year!!!

link to other stories from me!

To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on 💙

divider credit @/strangergraphics

Citedal University is uncharacteristically quiet this late at night as half the campus has returned home for the holiday break. The last few students who were unlucky enough to have a final scheduled at the end of the week remain hunched over their textbooks; scattered throughout the library and other rooms throughout campus.

Aemond Targaryen currently sits in a secluded corner of the library, a steaming cup of tea next to the stack of textbooks he’s been pondering for the past few hours. He’s one of the only students left at this hour, if not the only student—tucked away in the back corner of the second floor where he's unlikely to be bothered. 

He removes the blue light glasses that rest on his nose, rubbing his temples trying to relieve the dull throbbing that had begun behind his eyes. The sound of soft jazz reverberates through his airpods as he closes his eyes. He needs to stop soon or the pain will get worse. But Aemond has never been one to back down from anything just because of a little pain. 

He’d kept his phone on do not disturb for the majority of his study session, but took the chance now to glance at any missed text messages. Though it’s been months of dating, he still feels a warmth spread through his chest seeing who has texted him.

There’s no message in response. Aemond watches as three dots pop up then disappear. Pursing his lips he waits. A moment later a picture appears instead. 

It's his girlfriend.

Not just his girlfriend. His girlfriend in his bedroom in King’s Landing. In bed.

In his bed. 

Aemond sits up straighter, a shiver rolling down his spine right to the base of his cock. It’s been almost two months since he’s seen her, not since the end of October had they been able to connect in person. A mix of classes, internships, and other obligations had simply gotten in the way. The anticipation of an uninterrupted Christmas holiday had been all Aemond could focus on.

Aemond pauses his music, calling her. She answers after the first ring as though she’d been waiting in anticipation for his call.

“Hello?”

“Baby.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

Aemond’s mouth goes dry at the flirtatious tone, the soft feigned confusion at his call.

“I am, yeah,” he agrees, sitting back in his chair, the wood groaning as he does so, “Till someone distracted me.”

“Oh no,” she says, and Aemond closes his eyes, picturing the perfect pout that’s undoubtedly on her face, “How very rude. Distracting Aemond Targaryen from his studies.”

“A paper, actually,” he playfully corrects, “On the relationship between faith and reason during the wars of conquest.”

She moans at that, long and exaggerated. 

“Gods I love it when you talk nerdy,” she teases, voice rough, “It’s very sexy.”

Aemond bites his lip, shaking his head slightly and glancing around him. The library is silent apart from when he speaks, he hasn’t seen another student in a few hours. 

“Are you alone?” he asks.

“Mhmm,” she confirms, “Everyone’s gone to bed. It’s very late, after all.”

“I’m surprised you’re still up.”

“I was missing you.”

“I miss you too baby,” he says, closing his laptop and removing his blue light glasses, resting them on top, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah?” She says, “It’s been so long. Too long really.”

“I agree.”

“It’s been painful, without you,” she says with a sigh, “I ache for you, Aem.”

His heartbeat speeds up at that. He lowers his voice even more before continuing to speak.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” she murmurs, “Right now especially. Gods I wish you were here next to me. In bed.”

Aemond takes another glance around him, wetting his lips. No one’s here, he’s sure of it. 

“What would you want me to do?” he asks, swallowing hard.

“Well first, I’d like you to kiss me,” she begins, the smirk evident in her voice, “I miss that mouth of yours. In more ways than one.”

“Cheeky,” he comments, and is rewarded with a giggle.

“I’d want you to kiss me,” she continues, her voice low, “Kiss me everywhere. My neck, my breasts.”

“Fuck me,” Aemond curses, long fingers tapping on the table. 

“I could if only you were here. I’m so wet Aem,” she purrs into the receiver, “I’m wearing that set you bought me. You remember?” He’s so hard he can’t stand it; paper forgotten he starts to palm himself through his jeans to relieve some of the immense pressure. “The red bralette…the matching panties.”

“Fucking hell,” he stifles a moan.

“Helaena put me in the guest room,” she continues, “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. So I came in here instead, I hope you don’t mind.” Her tone is teasing, he can practically hear her smile. 

Aemond squeezes his eyes shut as her breathy voice continues,  “Remember our first time?” she hums, recalling the memory. “You ate my pussy so well Aem. So slow, and soft. Just the way you know I like it. Gods, that tongue of yours,” her words turn into a groan, “No one has ever made me feel like you do.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, “You’re fucking driving me crazy.”

“I just miss you. I miss your hands, baby. Your fingers especially.”

“Yeah?”

 “Mhmm. The way you hold me…squeeze me. How they feel inside of me.”

“Fuck.”

“Gods…..mine don’t feel as good.”

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Mhmm.”

“Fucking hells. Listen to me.”

A soft giggle emits from the other line. “Okay.”

“Are you fingering yourself, baby?”

“Mhmm.”

“How many?”

“Just two.”

“Oh, baby. You need to add another finger for me.”

“It’s too much.”

“Touch that pretty little clit for me, and add another finger. Gotta get you ready for me baby.”

He waits for her to do so, listening to every pant and moan she exhales. Palming himself through his jeans is no longer enough. Aemond reaches for his zipper and slowly, agonizingly slow, he pulls it down to free his cock. 

He moves quickly, releasing himself from his boxer briefs and fisting his cock firmly in his hand. His underwear is wet with precum as he tugs himself hurriedly. They’ll have to be quick. There’s no way in hells he can get caught like this. 

“Fuck. I’m so full.”

“That’s my good girl. How’s that feel?” he keeps his voice low as he asks, keeping his hand moving at a steady pace. 

“It’s so good. Not as good as you.”

His cock is pulsating in his grip, twitching at the sound of her words.

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Please hurry,” she whines, “I need you so badly.”

“Oh, baby. When I get there you have no idea how much trouble you’re in.”

The line goes silent for a moment and Aemond can’t help the smirk that appears on his face. He can picture the scene on the other end of the phone so perfectly; her so close to the edge, pretty face scrunched up in pleasure. Eyes widening with surprise as he takes control. 

“What?”

“You think you can call me, distract me during finals, touch yourself in my bed, and go unpunished?” he clicks his tongue, “You’ve been a very naughty girl.”

“Aemond…”

“I can’t have a naughty girlfriend, now can I?” he asks, keeping his tone light; the underlying threat of what’s to come when he gets home all he needs. 

“No.”

“And you respond so well when you’re taught a lesson, don’t you?”

He hears her inhale a shaky breath and his cock twitches in his hand. Tightening his fist he strokes himself faster.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” she practically purrs.

Aemond muffles a groan, the familiar tightening at the base of his spine growing stronger as he jerks himself off. 

“You close baby? I know that pretty little pussy must be desperate to cum right now. Gods I wish it were your perfect cunt wrapped around my cock right now. Or that pretty mouth of yours.”

He hears her whine, can picture her spread out on his bed—his bed, while he’s so far away.

“Gods Aem, I’m so close.”

“Yeah? Me too baby, me too. Go on and come pretty girl, I wanna hear it. Let me hear my perfect girl fall apart.”

He can tell when she does, her breathing more labored, those pretty moans elongating into a desperate cry. He can picture it perfectly, her falling apart because of him as she had done hundreds of times. His girl, all his. 

“Oh that’s it, baby, just like that, that’s a good girl,” he praises her through it, almost unable to stop himself. It’s only a moment later he’s spilling himself on his hand, struggling to muffle the moan that escapes him.

The line is silent for a moment before he hears the rustle of movement, followed by a giggle.

“Seven hells woman,” Aemond says, reaching for the box of tissues that are thankfully placed on the table, undoubtedly meant for tearful students. 

“You enjoy yourself?”

“You’ll be the death of me,” Aemond grumbles, quickly cleaning himself up and zipping his jeans.

“And in the library of all places,” she says, followed by a soft tutting sound, “You’re a bad bad boy, Aemond Targareyn.”

Aemond smirks, slightly shaking his head at that. 

“I miss you,” he admits, feeling a familiar ache in his chest.

“I miss you too baby,” she tells him, voice full with emotion, “So hurry back to me.”

Aemond closes his textbooks and laptop, preparing to leave.

“Just one more,” he assures her, “And then I’m all yours.”

She happily hums at that, “You’re always mine.”

“Very true,” he agrees, grabbing his bag, “It’s late, I should let you go. I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“I’ll be waiting,” she assures him, “Right here, in this position if you’d like.”

“I’d say just how I’d like you but I’m in public.”

“What’s stopping you? You just jerked off in a library.”

Aemond barks out a laugh as he continues to leave, making his way out of the warmth of the library and into the cold. It’s begun to snow, a soft dusting illuminated by the lamps that light up campus. 

“I love you,” he tells her. 

“I love you too. Good luck on your final.”

One more final. And then he’s home. And then he’s with her. How it has been since last summer, and how it always should be. 

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected

[koenigami]

COLD HANDS, WARM HEART.

wriothesley x fem!reader summary : spending your night far away from everything and everyone with your lover in a cabin on a cold night, you finally uttered your deepest wish to him. wc : 3k tags : +18, smut, fluff, established relationship, talks about children, marking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, wrio about to unleash his breeding kink

The fire casted shadows along the walls as it danced in the fireplace, the warmth and crackling of burning wood creating a cosy ambience that could have made you fall asleep right then and there on the floor. Cold winters in Fontaine weren’t unusual yet you could not remember the last time you had seen thick layers of snow like the ones that currently covered the meadows and mountains of your homeland like large fluffy clouds. 

A cold breeze rushed inside the little wooden cabin and made you shiver when Wriothesley slipped inside, nudging the door shut with his foot while carrying piled up pieces of wood in his arms. You smiled at the sight of his reddened nose and cheeks, flakes of snow sprinkled all over his hair and slowly melting away, leaving back a trace of slightly damp curls. 

“Hope this will be enough for the night.” He sighed, neatly stacking the wood in the little basket beside the fireplace before he joined you on the woven carpet. “Good thing you stayed inside. It’s so damn cold.” 

“‘Course, otherwise I would have turned into an icicle.” You smirked, remembering how Wriothesley earlier had threatened to tie you to the bed because you had begged him to let you accompany him outside to get the wood. Apparently, wanting to watch your handsome boyfriend use his astonishing strength to chop wood had been too much to ask for. However, the shriek that you let out when his bare hands touched your neck was proof enough that staying inside had not been such a bad idea. 

“Shared sorrow is half the sorrow.” You grabbed his wrists, liberating yourself from the frosty feeling on your skin, and instead tried to gently envelop his hands in your smaller and especially warmer ones. Wriothesley studied you with curious eyes as your thumbs traced tender circles along the back of his hands while warming them up with your warm breath. 

“You don’t need to do that.” Your movements halted, and you looked up at him befuddled. He went out by himself in that freezing cold, the least you could do was make sure that he was warm and- “Share my sorrows.”

Bearing others burdens on his own shoulders was a piece of cake for Wriothesley, because somehow he always managed to take care of them very easily. Yet the melancholic smile that he would shoot you every time you stated the desire to help him was a clear sign of a deeply rooted self-destructive habit. And despite knowing that it was only a way to keep you away from any further unnecessary trouble, in some situations it felt more like a brick wall that he cemented between the both of you. 

“You’re right.” You stated matter-of-factly, leaning over to ruffle his hair and ridding him of the residue snowflakes. “But I want to. And the next time you threaten to tie me to a piece of furniture, I’ll simply handcuff you to the bed.” 

“Threatening me with a good time, huh? Sweetheart, you should really work on your bargaining strategies.” His smug smirk turned into a lighthearted chuckle when he saw you scoff and turn your head away from him in annoyance. Though your body did not resist even an ounce when one of his arms encircled your waist and pulled you closer against him into a tight embrace. You instinctively snuggled into his side, the knitted pullover that he was wearing making him look tamer and more cuddlesome than his usual dress shirt and tie.  

Coming here was a good idea. Far away from Wriothesley’s duties as well as your own work, no court cases or due dates for your reports; you were grateful for some uninterrupted shared time with him even if only for a few days. It’s what you both were in need of. Especially since there were matters that had somehow been lingering on your mind and soul for a while now-

Soft tender touches were shared as the snowfall outside the window slowly started to get heavier. His hands along your hips and waist, sliding underneath your pullover to caress and feel the heat of your skin, your lips on his jaw and cheeks, feeling the light stubble on his face. Slow and teasing movements that made your skin tingle and heart do somersaults, the awareness of how happy this man’s presence was making you, bringing a genuine smile to your lips. 

“Want me to make some tea?” You eventually asked when you detached yourselves from each other for a moment. Tilting your head slightly, you looked at him. The fire casted an orangish light over the side of his face, the flame reflecting and swirling in the deep blue of his eyes and risking hypnotising you if you wouldn’t stop staring right into them.

“Nah, maybe later.” 

“Did you just deny an offer of tea? Are you sick?” You giggled and watched his own lips form into a wolfish grin. In the blink of an eye, you were tackled and pinned to the carpet while Wriothesley’s body now loomed over yours and caged you between his arms. “I see so now it’s sex over tea?”

With nothing but the fire illuminating the cosy bedroom, you looked so ethereal. Your hair was sprawled around your head like a halo, and your skin felt so soft and warm as he glided his fingertips along your cheek and further down to your neck where he started littering light fleeting kisses. “Of course not, my love. It’s you over tea.” He spoke between each kiss. “You over everything.” 

A gasp escaped you when the sweet kisses turned into teasing bites, heat already pooling between your legs at the way he sucked on your skin, finishing his markings with light traces of his tongue. Your legs instinctively spread, letting him slot himself between them as he kept assaulting your neck, tasting you, inhaling you in such a fervent way that he made it seem like you have been separated from each other for months. And in some kind of way, it truly felt so. One tiring day after another had led to the both of you being so exhausted and depleted of energy that your shared bed had solely served as a way to recharge your batteries before the next same draining day would arrive with the same taxing work and tasks to be completed. 

His breath hitched when your hands slid into his hair, and with the tight grip you had on his strands, you noticed him lower his body, his hips grinding against yours and letting you feel the prominent growing bulge in his pants. 

“Mr. Wriothesley.” You suppressed a wince once you noticed that your attempted comment did not sound as teasing as you had hoped it would when you were so out of breath and desperate for him. “Don’t tell me we’re about to have sex on the floor when there’s a king size bed right next to us.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Blindly reaching to his side, Wriothesley tore the soft blanket off the bed, the both of you spreading it properly before you hurriedly settled on top of it. “There, better now?”

Though in all honesty, you could not care less about whether the ground beneath you was cushioned or not, whether you did it on the floor or in a thousands of mora expensive bed, as long as it was him that your hands got to touch, as long as it was him that got under your skin and never let go of you. His patience was slowly crumbling to the ground and disappearing into nothingness as much as yours was. His touches became more eager, with rough hands groping your chest, and lips nearly devouring you, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue- It was so easy for him to make a mess out of you. 

The fabric of your jumper was soon bunched up, and your bra pulled further down to let the fat of your tits spill out of it. The warmth of his lips wrapped around your nipples as he started sucking on one while his thumb and forefinger played with the other, the corners of his mouth turning upwards when he noticed you arching your back. “Fuck, missed these tits so much.” He rasped, drunk on your body and the way it felt beneath his hands. His tongue slid around your areolas, sucking and biting at the plump flesh of your breasts until they glistened with his saliva. 

Once you two finally pulled back to completely rid yourselves of the clothes and fabrics that created a barrier between you, you were almost astonished at the light shake in your hands and breath, adrenaline and hormones having riled you up like a desperate teenager. Breathless chuckles and giggles echoed through the dimly lit room while you hopelessly struggled to undo buttons here, unclasp a bra there, and unzip and tear off legs of pants. Wriothesley hissed in pain when you harshly tugged the thick woollen pullover over his head, his helix getting caught in the fabric before you yanked it off him a little too harshly.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing over the apex of his ears to soothe the sting, and settled back between your legs which you deliberately wrapped around his waist. Digging your heels into his lower back, you pulled him almost impossibly closer as if any space left between your bodies would physically hurt you. With a hushed sorry, you trailed your mouth along the shell of his pierced ear, hearing and feeling his laboured exhales brush across your face when the pads of his fingers finally stroked along your already soaked folds. He played with you. Smearing your arousal over your clit, the circles he drew on the erected little bud made you let out the sweetest noises, his cock twitching in anticipation while he could barely wait any longer to hear you moan once he was inside you. 

Wriothesley carefully drove his thick middle finger inside you, so painfully slow that you keened needily, tightly gripping the blanket underneath you in your clenched fists, knuckles white. Though his exterior seemed far more composed than you were, the hard cock that you caught a glimpse of as it hung heavily between his legs with the irritated and glistening tip, the weight of it brushing against your thigh; your pussy unconsciously clenched around nothing, the empty and aching feeling inside you only getting stronger.

“Oh my god-” You nodded mindlessly with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, pouty lips slightly open in a silent moan when he finally added a second finger, filling you further up. Though you were far away from satisfied, and at the way your fluttering and pulsing walls gripped his fingers he too could tell that you needed more. The indecent squelching sound of his palm slapping against your wet pussy with each thrust was so loud, he couldn’t help but groan knowing that you were in such a desperate need for him, that you needed him to fill you up to the brim and satisfy you over and over again. 

“Let me see that pretty tongue.” You felt something in your stomach flutter at the sight of his satisfied smile once you obediently stretched your tongue out, letting him brush his soaked fingers on the pink muscle before dipping them into your mouth. With swirling movements, you made sure to lick them clean, the light suction of your lips making his breath hitch undeniably as he relished the sight in front of him, your pretty doe eyes glistening with moisture as the flame of the fire flickered inside them. “My gorgeous girl, always so good for me.” 

“Wriothesley.” You croaked when he retracted his hand, a dribble of saliva running down the side of your mouth while the taste of your own arousal still lingered on your tongue. As you reached down between your bodies to take his cock in your palm, brushing it along your folds to cover him in your juices, you involuntarily sunk your teeth into your lip, gnawing at the raw kissed flesh. No matter how many times you took him, he always made sure you were nice and ready for him, wanting to make this as pleasurable for you as possible. Yet something about the brief burn when your walls stretched around him, the way it sent shivers down your spine and made your toes curl until your body accommodated to his size; you could never get enough of it. “Just fuck me already.” 

“Alright, alright. Don’t hurt yourself.” His chest vibrated with a deep airy chuckle when he witnessed your eagerness, his big hand taking a hold of yours to place it beside your head, fingers weaving through yours and giving it a tight squeeze when his free hand guided his leaking tip to your entrance. “Going to fuck my darling real’ good, yeah?” 

“Yeah, oh-” The warm mushroom tip entered you, as Wriothesley slowly started fucking himself deeper into you. Inch after inch, he sank deeper, stretching you further before pulling back out, and leaving you a whimpering mess. The hand he had placed on top of your stomach to keep you in place, involuntarily grounded you and you wondered whether he could feel himself in your guts. Because with each thrust that he sank deeper into your dripping wet hole, you swore you could feel him in your throat. “Baby-” 

“I know, I know.” He breathed heavily against your ear when he eventually buried himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your skin, and tight walls gripping him like a vice, constantly clenching and unclenching. “Taking me so well. Always so… fuck-” 

Wriothesley’s voice died down when he felt you fuck yourself against him as if you were in heat, moaning and gasping every time you lifted your hips off the floor. Your legs were shaking by the time he moved his hand to your sex, thumb quickly brushing back and forth over your clit and making you topper over the edge. Your entire body turned rigid when you came, the intensity of your orgasm would have scared you if it weren’t for Wriothesley’s roaming hands, caressing and reassuring you. You had not even realised the tears running down your temples until he kissed them away, letting you taste the salty liquid when he slotted his lips against yours. “That’s it, I’ve got you, love. Ha, squeezing me so fucking tight.” He mumbled against your mouth. “Don’t think I’ll last much longer like this.” 

“Then don’t.” Regaining some control over your body, you were finally able to speak up though with a hoarse voice, and weak legs which you desperately tried to wrap back around his waist. Clasping his neck with your arms and holding onto him as if he was your life line, you moved your hips against his with a frail push, wanting to spur him on. “Wanna see you cum too. Want you to fill me up.”

“W-what?” His own thrusts stuttered when he caught your last sentence, letting your words sink in like honey on a burning wound. 

“Want you to cum inside me.” By the expression on his face and slowed movements, you could clearly tell that Wriothesley probably thought that your words were stemming from a spur-of-the-moment decision. Brain fried by pleasure and oxytocin, all words that left your mouth should be taken by a grain of salt, though right now in this moment, there was not a single thing that you were more sure of than the thought and wish that had been occupying your mind for weeks. A small being incorporating the love that you and Wriothesley held for each other. Crawling and toddling around your house, filling it with sweet laughter and cries, while looking just like him. His eyes, his nose, his kind heart.. “Y/n, we can’t just-”

“Been meaning to tell you this for a while now.” The pads of your fingers brushed against his flushed cheeks as you cupped his face in the softness of your palms. His deep blue eyes had taken on a darker shade, staring right into your soul, and you swore that if there was a way to drown into that ocean of blue, you would do it instantly. “Wriothesley, I love you so much. I-I can’t imagine a life without you.” 

Another stream of tears followed that made his eyebrows furrow before he gently wiped them away. Of course he had already had similar thoughts. How could he not when you were everything he had ever wanted in his life. Images of a little girl with the same sweet smile as yours, same hair, same attitude-

“Wanna give you a baby.” 

“Are you sure about that?” His gaze zeroed in on you, looking for something, just anything that could tell him that you were not being serious, that all of this was nothing but an awful joke, some terrible dirty talk. Though all he could find while gazing into your eyes was nothing but pure love and warmth as you nodded at him. Warmth that seeped into the deepest parts of his body, spreading and filling his heart to the brim with affection for a woman he would always be ready to do anything for. “Sweetheart, you’re-” 

You choked with wide blown eyes when his hips all of a sudden snapped against yours, his cock diving into your deepest parts and about to make you fall apart again. “You’re going to be the death of me, ya know that?” His voice quivered the slightest bit as he buried his face in your neck, and with his chest flush against yours, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart as it pounded only for you. 

The fire had dimmed by now, the dark red flame covered by ash and residue parts of scorched wood fighting for its last ounce of oxygen, while the heavy snowfall outside had calmed. However, when you let your nails scrape down Wriothesley’s back, leaving red marks beside the already residing scars along his skin, while his body eventually tensed up, fingers digging into the fat of your hips and cock pulsing, coating the walls of your insides in white- You knew that your night had barely even started yet. 

“Shit- Can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my kid inside you, darling.”

[buckys-loverman]

Teacher’s Pet- Jeremiah Fisher

What would you do for a higher grade?

warnings: smut, finger banging, 18+ appropriate, slight degrading kink, vulgar language

pairing: fem!reader x jeremiah fisher

A/N: i am back baby!! sorry for taking forever to upload, was having issues with uploading on tumblr but im so happy to be back writing for you guys. i will be uploading a conrad story within the next couple days so stay tuned!

“Mr. Fisher please!” You trailed behind your physics TA, begging for his assistance on the upcoming exam.

“I told you to call me Jeremiah.” He sighed, pushing his hair back as he continued to pace down the hallway, leaving you to jog behind him in order to catch up.

You reached out to touch his arm, “Jeremiah then-” He turned around suddenly almost causing you to crash into his chest, “30 minutes is all I need with you to help me with the review.”

He looked around for other students as he lowered his voice, “This is the third time you’ve been late to office hours, and I can’t keep giving you special treatment for being tardy. Don’t do it again.”

Before you could respond, he turned back around in a quick motion and continued down the hallway, calling your name to follow him to the library.

A burst of excitement spiked through your body as you gladly followed behind him, not complaining as you got extra tutoring time with him.

Jeremiah wasn’t aware that you had been purposely late to office hours in order to get his undivided and uninterrupted attention. You always made the excuse that office hours “overlapped” with your other classes in order for him to feel some form of pity for you.

For who would turn down such a good student?

The study room in the corner of the library was always empty as it was the only one without a white board, but instead a window overlooking the campus. Because of that, Jeremiah was forced to always write down his practice problems in your notebook directly next to you.

You scribbled down your responses to the force & gravity unit questions in your textbook when you notice Jeremiah scanning your body over your answers. In a quick motion, you push back on your chair as you reach for your backpack on the ground, arching your back as you stretch forward with your back to him.

Jeremiah clears his throat as he shifts in his chair, moving his gaze away from you as he returns back to your textbook, seeing what you had previously written down.

“You’ve been doing great this past semester, it doesn’t seem like you need my help?” He states, leaning back into his chair as he scans between your eyes.

You slightly smile as you began to pull your hair back, “I do-” You respond with a naive tone, “I’ve been struggling with force.” Your button up shirt stretched tight against your chest as you put your hair in a ponytail, causing Jeremiah’s eyes to drop for a split second before quickly returning to your face.

You lean forward in your chair, slightly exposing the top of your white mesh bra as you stare with purposeful doe eyes, “I don’t think I’ve had enough examples.” You pout.

Jeremiah’s body tenses up for a second but quickly disappears as his eyes darken. He leans forward, placing a hand on your chair as he analyzes your face; “Are you playing dumb with me?”

A slight smirk tempted to slip from your mouth, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say Mr. Fisher-” you begin to say when a warm hand grips at the bottom of your face, a small gasp escaping from your mouth.

“I told you not to call me that.” His voice was lower than before as he stood tall above you, his eyes sweeping your body without shame. “What are you willing to do for a good grade?” Jeremiah taunts, his fingers trailing down to your neck.

“Anything.” You whisper, maintaining eye contact as his fingers slowly begin to wrap around your neck, mimicking the same firm hold he had on your face just moments before.

Jeremiah lifts your body up, shoving it against the table you were once working on. In a swift motion he grabs the back of your head as the two of your lips combine, rhythmically moving against each other with a newfound force.

Your fingers tangle in his curls, slightly tugging at the ends as a small moan escapes his mouth, giving him more motivation as he makes his way down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind.

“Students like you learn best through examples- ”His fingers unbutton your top, exposing the rest of your bra that you teased earlier, “So I’ll make sure to teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

Jeremiah yanks at your wrist as he pulls you towards the window, slamming your chest to the glass. Your nipples hardened against the cool glass, a sense of panic overwhelmed your body as you see an array of students down below, walking to class or talking amongst their peers.

“What if someone sees?” You question as your mouth felt dry and your head felt dizzy as his fingers trail from the strap of your bra, down to curve of your stomach up until his fingers move their way below your skirt.

“Then everyone will know what a dirty little slut you are for the TA.” Jeremiah whispers in your ear, as his fingers begin to rub slow and sensual circles on top of your clit, the fabric of your underwear beginning to feel suffocating.

The shame you once felt before washed away as moans left your mouth, your head tossing back onto his shoulder as his warm body pressed into yours from behind. The cold from the glass and the heat from his fingers was the perfect combination, your body felt electric between the two.

His fingers moved slowly down your underwear, “God you’re so fucking wet-” Another moan escaped from your mouth as he slowly and painfully moved along your clit, “And here I thought you were a good girl.” You could hear the cockiness drip from his tongue.

“I am.” You whined, your back arching in an attempt to get more friction, only to be met with the feeling of his erection, and did it feel big.

You felt a slap on your clit as you yelped, “Don’t speak out of turn. You got that, princess?” His harsh tone sent butterflies through your stomach as you simply nodded, letting him return his attention back to you.

Jeremiah moved your underwear to the side as he slid one finger inside of you. Another loud moan escaped your mouth as you felt just how long his finger really is, and how well he knew how to use it.

The finger began twisting inside of you, pumping in and out as sloppy sounds echoed throughout the room, your body beginning to overheat as you spread your legs wider.

“Good girl.” He purred, placing a second finger inside of you. The new found sensation overtaking your balance as you pushed yourself deeper into the glass, your nipples peaking through the mesh bra and on display for anybody who simply looked up.

Everything seemed to begin to blur, the pleasure spreading throughout your body as you begin approaching your high. Jeremiah yanks your hair back as his lips meet your ear; beginning to lick and suck as he finds all your sweet spots.

He’s consistent, both of his fingers continue to pump in and out of you in a fast motion, his thumb reaching to draw circles on your clit, “Jere.” Is all you can manage to say as his teeth tug at the bottom of ear.

“Cum for me, darling.”

His words work as a command as your body cannot handle anymore of the pleasure, your legs start to shake beyond control as the heat in your stomach burns stronger than before, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head as you experience the strongest high of your life.

Your vision blurs as the sensation overtakes your body, causing you to cum hard on his fingers, giving him the satisfaction he knew he would get from you.

As you begin to adjust back to normal you turn around to see Jeremiah leaning against the table, your textbook untouched behind him, as he intensely licks his fingers where your cum visibly stained.

“Wether you pass the exam or not, I expect to see you back here next week.” He smirks, “For I still have much to teach you.”

—————————————————————————

YALL jere is a slut and no one can tell me otherwise!! this last episode got me giggling & kicking my feet now that i have inspiration for some new stories… ;)

[justwinginglife]

Can I req a hoshina x reader, but school au and they're academic rivals? Leikk, they're in the same class and debates every now and then who's correct. Fights aren't uncommon between them especially when they both ran for council

But what's surprising is that they actually study together outside school?

(I'm sorry if this is to much 😔, I love your fanfics. Theyre my oxygen, ty for keeping us hoshina fans well fed 🫶)

You absolutely do not need to apologize! I am totally happy to do this for you. Thank you so much for your support, and of course, I'm always happy to encourage the Hoshina hyperfixation.

The Best Plans

You had so many ideas about how you thought your college life would go; you'd be top of every class, give a rousing speech at graduation, rock your first internship, and score a killer first job. You didn't anticipate anyone having the smarts to fuck up your masterplan. But Soshiro Hoshina was a whole different beast, something you couldn't have anticipated.

Your whole life, you'd been smarter than everyone around you even without trying. It was just a given that you were better. So you never could've predicted that you'd have to break a sweat just to keep up with him. For the first time in your life, you were pulling all nighters, just raw dogging tests with no sleep, no sanity. You were frequenting the library so much, studying at all hours of the day and the night, that you had become good friends with the librarian. Her name was Himiko. She had two cats and loved Italian food. She was a sweetheart.

But even through all this struggling, you persevered. You got 100% on almost everything (with the occasional 99% that Hoshina would tease you about relentlessly until your next 100%). You were not about to let some scrawny, short-ass, bowl-cut wearing, squinty-eyed, nerd disrupt your whole plan.

You hated the way he laughed at you. It was loud and unhinged. And it was uninterrupted, nothing could stop him once he'd started. And the way that he smirked was so smug and unapologetic, you thought you might just hit him with your encyclopedia.

Your favorite class was debate, because then you could argue with him to no end and even win participation points for it. Of course, you'd argue with him for free, but it was significantly more fun to destroy him for a good grade. It was like a nice little treat to yourself, compensation for having to endure his cocky personality.

And you endured a lot. You had the unfortunate luck of knowing him better than you had ever wanted to, better than anyone else ever could know him or ever would know him. You knew what arguments he was going to use before he used them, you knew what energy drink he felt was more effective for his late night study sessions (you'd run into him so frequently at the library), you knew his poker face, his stressed face (you were surprised to discover that he actually got stressed, and you teased him incessantly about not being so superhuman after all), you knew which subjects were his favorite, which subjects were his least favorite, which classmates he liked and disliked. And you had always thought you were on the "dislike" list until one day you both ended up on the student council together.

It was the first time in this school's entire history that they'd ever had two student body presidents. Your grades were so even that it was hard to assign the role to just one person. Though, Hoshina would constantly introduce you as his vice president anyway. You'd get him back by telling people he hadn't even qualified for vice president, so he was stuck with the position of treasurer. No one knew who to believe, but everyone knew the two of you had an intense rivalry.

It was so intense, you almost thought you wouldn't be able to handle being in even closer proximity to him than you already were, but you refused to step down from the council and let him be the president, and of course, he wasn't stepping down anytime soon either. So the two of you spent even later nights together, poring over the school budget, planning out events, discussing new policies.

And eventually, to your shock, he admitted that he actually enjoyed spending so much time with you. He enjoyed the banter, he enjoyed your perspective, he enjoyed hearing your opinions even if he teased you that they were wrong, and he especially enjoyed the way you'd walk by a vending machine and think of him, then buy him a snack but -not wanting to let on that you cared- you'd chuck the bag of chips in his face, saying if the hunger didn't kill him first, you would.

And when he admitted these things to you, you were shocked to realize you felt the same. You liked the way he absentmindedly ran his hands through his hair when he was deep in thought. You liked the way his eyes settled on you when he was listening intently to your plans. You liked the way he always made your plans into a reality, shrugging and saying that it was no big deal and it was half his plan anyway.

You spent so much time together in school, that eventually it spilled over into your personal life, and suddenly he was visiting you at home. He'd bow to your mom, shake your dad's hand, wave to your little sister, and then run upstairs and collapse on your bed beside you. You'd stare up at the ceiling and talk for hours, until he'd decided to tickle you, to which you responded by shoving him off the bed.

And then you'd eat dinner together, study together, and just keep living life together.

It was hard to believe that just a couple months ago, you were butting heads, clawing at each other's throats. But it was even harder to think about living without him anymore.

And suddenly, all those plans you had for your college life, all those goals and lofty ideas, none of them mattered as much anymore. Your only plan at this moment was to enjoy your time with him, and pray it never stopped.

[copperbadge]

Lately, it's felt like every time I've started to work on writing, I'll just be getting into the rhythm of it when I get interrupted, either by work or the cats or because the time I'd booked in the library study room is up (you can only do two hours at a time, and only four hours a week total). It was getting to the point where I kept re-reading the same chapter or so of previous work but never managing to add to it.

So I tried an experiment this past weekend -- I found a really cheap rate on a local hotel room, and on Friday I took an overnight bag and a very old laptop with limited processing power and checked into a room about a mile from home for a quasi "staycation". I unpacked and had a quiet night on Friday, as prelude to working Saturday-Sunday. The idea was to write uninterrupted by other people, pets, the presence of all my Stuff around me at home, et cetera.

I had snacks but I also bought meals out, which was nice; I don't often order in or buy out when I'm at home. The way I set up was that I would do fifty minutes of writing with do-not-disturb engaged on my phone and then ten minutes of checking email, texts, etc. since often what pulls me out of writing is a text or an email that needs answering, or the anxiety that I'm missing one that would. If I set it so that every hour I check, well, nobody's going to die if something doesn't get answered in an hour, so the anxiety isn't there, and neither is the distraction. (I found a nice app for this, review later depending on how functional it continues to be for me, but it's a like $4 app called Forest.)

It worked pretty well -- writing for an uninterrupted hour, as long as I know what I'm working on, is very functional for me. I average about two thousand words, that way, though there is a limit to the number of hours I can put in. I ended up doing two hours in the morning and one hour in the afternoon, then switched from fiction writing to clearing out my tumblr drafts and some correspondence for the fourth hour. So it went something like

Go out and get breakfast, bring back and eat in room

Change into lounging clothes and do two one-hour sessions

Go out and get lunch, eat lunch out

Bit of a rest break back in the room

Two one-hour sessions, one of writing; when tired, switch to something that requires less creativity

Go out and get dinner, bring back and eat in room

And then in the evening the plan was to watch movies or catch up on reading, but I ended up being mentally weary, so instead I did some simple tarot reading. It was less divination or even meditation than just messing around, keeping the creativity stimulated; I did a couple of Creative Writing spreads, some very brief divination spreads (I nicked a nice three-card spread here that I mentally call He To Hecuba, and just used it in general rather than for a specific question) and then invented a spread when I was starting to get irritated that the same like, five cards kept coming up, more on this in its own post.

Sunday I did one more writing session but it was less successful, I think partly because what I was writing required a lot of research and partly because the previous day I'd dumped eight thousand words into the file. (Research took longer because I brought the most garbage laptop known to man, and the browsers crash if you try to open Google Maps, but in other ways it was ideal since there wasn't much I could do on it other than write.) But I had a good breakfast, got some rest, packed up easily enough, and headed home just ahead of the rain storm.

I don't think it's something I'll be able to do in that format especially often, since the deal I got on the hotel was an anomaly and Chicago lodging, even just AirBNB stuff, is stupid expensive. But in addition to helping get some work done it was a nice break, so I'm going to look into ways I could swing it on a perhaps monthly basis, or some other way to cheaply spend an entire day alone with decent access to a bathroom/snacks and a way to come and go easily. I've looked into coworking spaces before but they tend to be prohibitively expensive and don't really have the setup I'd prefer; there's a hostel on the north side with private rooms that I might try out but it doesn't seem significantly cheaper than a hotel. I might just have to pick one weekend a month and watch last-minute hotel price cuts where they simply want to fill a room for a day or two.

Anyway, functionally I wrote almost a fifth of a novel this weekend, and one that I wasn't feeling super on fire about; I'm feeling much better about it now that I've got some established plot going and I feel like I "know" the newer characters a bit better. (Also I'm enjoying writing Simon as someone who is absolutely entranced by his love interest and clueless that what he's feeling isn't mild antipathy because they met while fighting over ricotta.) So it was a big help, although if I were to put a budget line item in the Extribulum Press ledger for "writing staycation" it would wipe out my royalties surplus very quickly.

[sequinsmile-x]

High on You

“Emily,” he says, realising only much later that it was the first time he’d ever said her name out loud, “Are you…high?” 

Her eyes go wide, almost comically so, and she shushes him, the sound louder than his question had been as she looks around the still empty library before her eyes meet his again. She presses her lips together and stares him out, her eyes narrowing, and he thinks she’s trying to figure out if he’s judging her or not. 

“Maybe a little."

My 420th fic, in which I have done exactly what you think I've done.

A Young Hotchniss AU.

-x-

Hi besties,

This is silly. I know it's silly, you know it's silly, but here we are.

You all know I love to mark milestones - and writing high Emily whilst hitting my 420th fic just felt right. Shout out to eyesontheskyline who went into brain rot mode about this one with me <3

Anyway, enjoy the silliness and let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: Drug Use

Words: 3.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron had always preferred studying at night. 

When he was in high school, it used to drive his parents crazy. His father, in particular, would take issue with it, would burst into his room and claim he could hear Aaron moving around even though he hadn’t got up from his desk in hours. He’d claim Aaron was making it so he couldn’t sleep, would tell him it was his fault he’d have a bad day at work - and they’d both pretend the smell of whiskey flowing off of him wasn’t potent enough to linger in Aaron’s bedroom afterwards. It would mix in with the anger he left behind, a cruel cocktail that had been both Aaron’s poison as he grew up and the antidote he needed to get out, to leave that life behind and do better for himself. 

As soon as he started college, he studied in the library instead. Even though he was hours away from home, it felt better to do it there, to have a space where he could largely be uninterrupted. An unintentional hangover from his teenage years that had followed him through to his postgrad - books regarding criminal case law spread out over his favourite table in the library even though his apartment was empty. The apartment had been quiet, almost too quiet, since his ex-girlfriend had moved out a few months ago, and he couldn’t focus. The library was just the right amount of busy, only occupied by people similar to him, other students haunting the stacks like ghosts, each one of them looking for something and passing through each other as if they were alone. 

He looks from his books, his gaze drifting from the notes he’s making, when he hears a crash. The sound of someone walking into one of the shelves echoing around the library, loud and reverberating as it draws his attention. A woman he’s seen before holds her hands up as she apologises silently, as if her whispering that she was sorry would somehow be more distracting than the noise she’d made as she slammed into the metal shelf. He watches as she disappears between the stacks, clearly looking for something specific, as she throws him a smile over her shoulder. 

He recognised her. Not only was she here almost every night he was, but she lived in his building. He knew that she lived several floors above him, in one of the apartments that was nicer than his. He knew she could speak at least two languages other than English - French and Russian - because he’d seen her check out and return books with titles he couldn’t read written on the spines. He knew she was beautiful, something about her smile always drawing him in, and he knew that he wasn’t the only person in the library to have noticed. 

He knew all these things about her - but he didn’t know her name. 

He shakes his head at himself, trying to free himself of the distraction of the girl in the library who he had an unquestionable crush on, and looks back down at his books, desperate to try and memorise at least some case law before his upcoming midterms. He gets another half a page down when he jumps as a book is dropped on the table he’s sitting at, and he looks up to find her standing over him, her smile soft as their eyes meet. 

“Hi,” she says, her smile a little wider as he swallows thickly, “Can I sit here?” 

He looks at all the other empty tables around them and then back to the seat next to him that she’s already pulled out, and finds himself nodding before he can really think about it, “Yes.” 

She sits down, one of her legs hooked under her as she rests her elbow on the table and stares at him, “You’re here a lot.” 

“Yeah,” he replies, unsure how she’d managed to turn him into someone who can only respond in monosyllabic answers with nothing more than a smile and a hint of her perfume. He clears his throat and tries again, “Midterms and law school will do that do you.” 

“Oh, law school,” she says, sitting back in her chair, but not before she reaches over him to grab one of the cookies he’d brought himself for a midnight snack, “That makes sense,” she says, breaking a bit of the cookie off and narrowing her eyes thoughtfully as she waves her hand in his direction, “Goes with the whole serious thing you’ve got going on,” she smiles when he furrows his brow, but before he can respond she’s talking again, “I’m Emily by the way.” 

Emily. It suits her. He can’t explain it, but it does. Goes with the air of sophistication that followed her around, even when she was wearing leggings and a hooded sweater several times too big for her, and it somehow makes her even more beautiful. Like her name is a siren song made just for him. 

“Aaron.” He replies, and she smiles at that too, and he wonders what about his name could be so amusing. 

“Aaron,” she says, as if she’s testing it out, feeling the weight of it on her tongue, “It suits you. More than ‘hot serious library guy’ anyway,’” she says, reaching over him to take another one of his cookies, “It’s less wordy.”  It takes a moment for him to realise that it’s a nickname she’s given him, something she’s used to refer to him as to herself or others before, but she’s talking again before he can respond, “Can I ask you something, Aaron?” 

He nods, dog-earing the corner of his book because he has a feeling he won’t get much more studying done whilst she’s sat here talking to him, “Of course.” 

“You know the alphabet?” She asks earnestly, a far away look in her eyes that he recognises but can’t quite place. 

He smirks, “I’m aware of its work.” 

“Well, the letter J was added to it centuries after it was created, right?” She asks, and he nods, even though he hadn’t known that, entirely unsure where she was going with her train of thought, “Then why is J tenth? Why didn’t they put it at the start or the end?” 

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, entirely unsure how to respond, and as she reaches over him for a third cookie, everything slips into place. The increasingly glazed over look in her eyes. Her chatting to him as if they knew each other.  Her being chatty at all was something he would never have thought she would be after watching her politely shrug off men and women alike who tried to talk to her. Her seemingly never-ending hunger for his snacks. All of that mixed together, and topped off with the strangest question he’d ever been asked in his life, makes him realise exactly what is going on. 

“Emily,” he says, realising only much later that it was the first time he’d ever said her name out loud, “Are you…high?” 

Her eyes go wide, almost comically so, and she shushes him, the sound louder than his question had been as she looks around the still empty library before her eyes meet his again. She presses her lips together and stares him out, her eyes narrowing, and he thinks she’s trying to figure out if he’s judging her or not. 

“Maybe a little.” She says eventually, the dazed look on her face now more obvious than ever, and she holds up her hand and holds her thumb and forefinger as far apart as they’ll go, “A little bit.” 

He raises an eyebrow at her, “A little?” 

She shrugs, “I took an edible, and I didn’t feel anything. So I took a second and…I think they both hit at once.” 

He nods, and closes his book, completely giving up on studying for now, instead making sure she has all of his attention. He couldn’t just let her wander off, not when she was clearly so incapacitated, and he didn’t know who any of her friends were to call them to come check on her. Aaron couldn’t lie to himself and say he wasn’t glad to be talking to her, that he wasn’t strangely grateful for whatever weed-laced gummy she’d eaten because it was likely what had led her to come over and talk to him. 

“Want me to walk you home?” He asks, and her eyebrows shoot up her face as she leans back from him for the first time since she’d sat down. He realises how creepy it must sound, and he quickly follows up, speaking so fast his words trip over each other on their way out, “We live in the same building. I’ve seen you in the elevator before.” 

He’s chastising himself for not sounding any less creepy, but she nods, relaxing as she rests her elbow on the table again, “You helped that grumpy guy get his pet bird back into his apartment that one time.” 

He smiles, “Yes. Jason.” 

She hums, “I don’t know if I want to go home yet. It’s too quiet there.”

It’s a feeling he’s familiar with, so he nods, “We can stay here for a little while,” he offers, pushing the packet of cookies closer to her, “I could try and study, and you could carry on eating my snacks.” 

She beams at him. There’s no other way to describe the smile that spreads across her face, her already evident beauty almost radiant as she nods and grabs the cookies.

“Deal.” She says, and he smiles and opens up his book again, but he’s barely back where he was when she first walked over when she interrupts him, “Aaron?”

He smiles, because he can’t help himself, something about her drawing him in to the point where he didn’t care if he never passed another law exam in his life. “Yes, Emily?” 

“Do you think a hotdog is a sandwich, or is it closer to a taco?” 

___

When she wakes up, she has a headache. 

She groans as she rolls over in bed, feeling disorientated as she sits up, scrubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands as she tries to remember what happened last night. 

She remembers going for dinner with her mother. She remembers sitting down, biting her tongue and clenching her fists under the table to get through it with as few injuries as possible. She’d learnt from experience that the crescents in her palms left behind by her own nails had less of a sting to them than her mother’s words. Despite her best attempts not to bite, she still walked away with her feelings hurt. Her mother knew how to push her buttons because she had sewn them on, and Emily remembered digging through her jacket pocket and finding the small pack of edibles Penelope had given her a couple of days ago. She’d winked at her and pressed them into her hand and told her they were a pick-me-up if she needed one after seeing her mother. 

Emily remembered taking one and then cursing whoever Penelope had got them from because it hadn’t worked. She had vague memories of taking the second one, but it was all a little hazy after that. She thinks she might have gone to the library, she usually did at night because she enjoyed the solitude she got there that didn’t come hand in hand with the loneliness she felt in her apartment, but the memory wasn’t clear. It’s hazy, as if she’s looking back at it through thick fog, and she groans to herself as she gets out of bed. 

She rubs her eyes again as she walks out into the living room, and she stretches, yawning loudly into her quiet, empty apartment. She’s thinking about ordering in breakfast when she spots a book on her kitchen counter. She frowns when she walks over and picks it up, her confusion only getting worse as she reads the title. 

“The Story of the Alphabet,” she says outloud to herself, opening it up to see the slip on the inside, her own library number and yesterday's date printed on it, and she shakes her head at herself, “What the hell did I do last night?” 

She puts the book down, but a note card flutters out of it and hits the kitchen floor. She leans down to pick it up and turns it over, unfamiliar handwriting neat and within the small lines. 

I hope you’re feeling okay this morning. I’ll leave the rest of my cookies on the kitchen counter for you - you seemed to enjoy them more than I did. 

Aaron (hot serious library guy), apartment 4B

“Oh god,” she exclaims outloud, covering her eyes with her hand, her cheeks warm with embarrassment beneath her fingers, “For fuck sake, Emily.” 

She’d seen him around. Of course, she’d seen him around. At the library, in their apartment building, or occasionally walking to class. He was handsome and serious, and even though she’d never spoken to him, she found his presence in the library a comfort. A rare constant in her life that she could rely on. He would always sit at the same table, he’d always arrange his books and snacks around him in the same way. She felt a strange desire to mess with him, to ruffle him up a little and see how he’d react, if he’d smile at her the way she’d caught him doing a few times when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Apparently, the edibles she’d taken the night before had removed any attempt to not give in to that desire. 

She considers ignoring the note, briefly thinks about throwing it away and just avoiding eye contact with him the next time she sees him, but she stops herself. Her foot on the pedal of the bin, and the note in hand as she looks at the, mostly empty, pack of cookies on her counter and the book she has no memory of checking out. Something tells her not to ignore it, to settle into the embarrassment and seek him out.

She didn’t want the only conversation she had with him to be one she didn’t remember. She heads out of her apartment before she can talk herself out of it, the note shoved into the pocket of her hoodie and her keys in hand. She takes the stairs down to his floor, grateful for a bit of extra time to figure out what to say to him, but she still finds herself unable to come up with anything to say when she stands by his front door. She blows out a slow breath and knocks, twisting her hands in front of her as she hears him inside his apartment. 

When the door opens, he smiles at her like she’s an old friend, and it makes her wonder what the hell she’d said last night. 

“Hi,” she says, clearing her throat as she presses her lips together. “I…” she drifts off, her embarrassment almost overwhelming now she was here, but his smile gets wider as he takes pity on her, and he steps back to give her room to walk past him. 

“Come in, Emily.” 

She nods, her hands shoved into her pockets as she walks past him, casting a glance around his apartment before she turns to look at him, “I think I owe you an apology.” 

He shakes his head and walks over to the couch, nodding towards the other end of it as he encourages her to join him. “You have nothing to apologise for, Emily.” 

She hums disbelievingly, the warmth of her embarrassment burning her from the inside out, sure that her cheeks and chest must be bright red with it.

“That’s nice of you to say. But…” she drifts off, because she isn’t sure what she is apologising for. She can pull flashes of the night before out, can vaguely remember sitting with him whilst he was trying to study, “Did I just…sit with you?” 

He nods, his lips pressed together as he tries to suppress a smile, “Yes. And you ate most of my snacks,” he says, his smile soft enough that she knows he isn’t mad, “I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this - but when you’re high you’re a terrible study partner. You kept asking me random questions.” 

She laughs at that and scratches at her neck, wondering if he can see the heat climbing up it, “Yeah…speaking of random questions, do you happen to know why I have a book about the history of the alphabet on my kitchen counter?” 

He laughs, and she realises she’s never heard him laugh before. It’s disarming. Loud and slightly goofy, and entirely at odds with every assumption she’d made of him based on the little information she’d gathered. It’s endearing, and it makes her want to know more about him. To gather facts about him and store them away for later. 

“You came over to the table with it,” he says, “And asked me if I knew why the letter J is where it is in the alphabet.” 

She laughs and screws her nose up at her own stoned ramblings, her embarrassment only soothed when he laughs again because she knows he isn’t laughing at her, but with her. And she didn’t remember the last time someone had done that. 

“Thanks for putting up with me, I guess,” she says, biting her lower lip when she looks up to meet his eyes. “And I’m assuming you walked me home?” 

He nods, “Eventually. We hung out at the library for a while, and after I promised you we’d go home via that pizza place on campus, we walked back here.” 

She furrows her brows, the lack of a pizza box in her kitchen that morning confusing her. “Did I…did I even get pizza?” 

“No, you ordered a single soda and then left.” 

“Jesus,” she grumbles. She pinches the bridge of her nose, and looks back up at him, “Well, thank you.” Even though she’s said what she wants to say, she doesn’t want this to end, doesn’t want to make an excuse and head back to her place, “I was about to get breakfast, maybe we could go together? My treat, of course. Since I ruined your studying time and ate all your snacks.” 

It feels strangely brave, something in itself that feels ridiculous. She’d never felt nervous like this when it came to asking someone out. Usually, she was fearless, aware of the beauty that people had mentioned to her since she tipped over from being a kid into a teenager. But it feels different as she sits on his couch in her sweats, feeling oddly exposed even though she’d said god knows what to this man the night before. 

It’s the longest moment of her life before he nods, his smile just as shy as she’s sure hers is, “Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

She nods and she stands up, “There’s this great place just a couple of blocks away.” 

“The place with the bright pink interior?” He says, and she nods again, ignoring the roll in her belly that tells her it’s just another thing that had been slowly pulling them together. Invisible strings wrapped around both of them, tugging them towards each other until they were bound to meet somewhere, “They do amazing pancakes.” 

She smiles as he gathers his keys, and she knocks her shoulder against his, smiling at him, her lips pressed together as she desperately tries to not give too much away, “And, for the record, when I’m not stoned, I’m a great study buddy.” 

 “I’ll keep that in mind.” His smile gets wider, his dimples carved out so deep in his cheeks that she wants to press her thumbs against them. He locks his front door behind them and turns to her. “So, breakfast?” 

She nods, “Breakfast.” 

Breakfast turns into lunch, lunch turns into dinner, and dinner turns into a gentle kiss on the doorstep of her apartment. She barely thinks about how much a small pack of weed gummy bears will play in their story when she pulls him in for another kiss, her hand buried in his hair as she tugs him into her apartment. 

Years later, she blushes every time he tells their friends the story of the first time she’d ever spoken to him. She shakes her head and buries her face in his shoulder, playfully claiming he’s exaggerating, even though she knows he isn’t, as she gently twists his wedding ring back and forth on his finger. 

[hotchstead]

Distraction - Matt Casey | 18+

requested: yes

word count: 2,204

warnings: smut [unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk, lowkey think some of it counts as a breeding kink? I don't actually know???]

a/n: ... jesus christ

Masterlist

[“You’re the worst type of distraction, you know?” ]

Matt was probably the most supportive boyfriend you had ever had. He’s had your back since your first day at 51. He wasn’t a lieutenant yet but he still had enough pull at the house that he was able to get some asshole off your back in the first hour.

And since then he’s been at your side. You were a paramedic, so it wasn’t like the crush that had grown between you two was against the rules. And you didn’t even get together for… a while. For lack of a better word. But once you guys were, it was the strongest bond anyone had seen.

Nothing but loyalty, trust and support. Especially now. You’d had enough of being a paramedic. Not knowing what happened to patients after you brought them in. Not being able to use the copious amount of medical knowledge you had in the field. All of it was so frustrating.

So you decided to go to actual medical school. Which was going well. No you weren’t the top of your class but you were pretty high in the ranks. Half of the younger students ignored the embarrassment they put on themselves to ask for your help, knowing that as a paramedic you must have known a fair amount of stuff.

Which you did. But that wasn’t without the excessive cramming you did in between shifts. Like right now. Matt had been asleep for a few hours by now, expecting you to join him by the time it hit midnight.

It was 2:30 in the morning now.

And even though you knew you should go to bed, you couldn’t. Not when you still didn’t know what the hell to look for on an MRI. “Baby, why are you still awake?” Matt’s groggy voice was followed by the scuffle of his feet across the floor, making their way down the hallway.

You glanced over at him, a pen tucked behind your ear and hair tied up loosely. It was neat before but strands were slowly falling out of it the more you tilted and turned your head. His voice made you jump slightly, eyes too focused on some highlighted words in your textbook.

“Huh?” He sat on the couch behind you, gesturing to the skewed papers. “Oh, studying. Go back to sleep,” You gave him a soft smile, feeling his arms go around your shoulders, pulling you towards him.

Matt placed a kiss to the top of your head, “Come to bed with me,” He muttered, his hands sliding down your arms to push a different pen from your hand, grabbing it in his. You laughed softly, feeling him kiss from your cheek to your jaw.

Lightly you hummed, giving way to him, “You are the worst type of distraction you know that?” You muttered, twisting your hand to hold his. Matt nodded faintly, leaning more to kiss your shoulder.

“I know, so let me distract you more, in bed, and you can pick this back up tomorrow. When you’re more rested, and relaxed,” He slid his other hand over your shoulder, squeezing softly. It was damn near impossible to say no to him. Actually, completely impossible.

Matt was addicting. His touch, his words. Everything. He always has been. The first kiss you ever had sparked something deep inside you and since then it was like you were insatiable when it came to him.

Being at work was hard enough to control yourself, and his office only went uninterrupted for so long before someone knocked on his door so quickies were nearly off the table. Nearly. But at home, and when he was lazily kissing at your neck like he was now?

How could you even imagine declining his sweet offer?

You shifted onto your knees, turning to face him, pressing your lips to his. Matt’s hands abandoned yours, instead swooping around your waist, gently holding onto you. “That a yes?” He questioned smugly, already knowing the answer. He was well aware of the pull he had over you.

It was balanced perfectly, your presence having the same effect on the lieutenant as he on you. You hummed softly, pushing yourself up and off the floor, not without leaning forward to give him another firm kiss.

Moments like this made you thankful he was the type to only sleep in pajama pants, his chest bare for you to run your hands over. “Mhm,” Now impatient, you grabbed his hand, pulling him up, feeling him bump into your back as he followed you back into your bedroom, textbook and studies at the back of your mind.

You turned back to him the second you heard the door click behind you, hands finding the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. Any sleepiness that was in his body when he woke up was now gone, completely replaced with you, your lips and your body.

“You can’t just,” You firmly kissed him, “Come out there,” Another kiss. “And distract me.” And another. Slipping words in between them. Matt’s hands on your hips pulling you closer.

He reciprocated each kiss, his tongue fighting to slip into your mouth each time, slowly he pulled away, not caring about the line of spit that connected your mouths. “Seems I can though, doesn’t it?” His cocky words driven by the horniness that was clouding his mind, the ever growing bulge in his pants pushing the sarcastic side out of him.

Usually you were able to wrangle him in, get things done but when he started talking back? That’s when you knew to just let him do his thing. Cause damn was he good at it. “Is that so Lieutenant Casey?” You ticked an eyebrow up, overly softly gazing up at the blonde man.

Matt nodded, your tone catching his breath, “Mhm,” He nudged you back, slowly getting you to the end of the bed. “Cause look where you are,” His lips pressed to the bottom of your neck, “With,” Matt nipped right below your ear, “Me.” His breath sent a chill down your spine.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head to the side, letting the man kiss back down your neck. His hands slid up your sides, under your shirt and pulled it off. Matt turned you, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap.

Slowly your hands went over his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist. His arms wrapped around you, leaning up to catch your lips again, pulling you into a deep kiss. It was slow but heated, all of the lust and passion wrapped into each twist of your lips together.

Each brush of your tongue against his made him grow more and more, grinding his hips up into yours. “You can take my clothes off you know,” You muttered into the break he took to catch his breath. Matt’s eyes found yours, loosening the grip on you to lean back onto his palms.

“Or you can do it for me,” He mumbled, eyes dragging across your bare chest and the pajama pants you had put on hours ago. Your cheeks burned as you lifted from his lap, making a show of pushing them off, going to return to your spot when he held his hand out in expectancy.

You tilted your head slightly, Matt raising his eyebrows at the floral underwear you still wore. Oh. With a slight smirk you pulled them off, tossing them to the side, accepting Matt’s grasp as he brought you back towards him.

“That’s my baby girl,” He muttered, his hand going to your hair while his other gripped your hip, rocking up against you. Lightly you moaned, head leaning back as he did it again. His bulge rubbed right against your clit, making you pull your lip between your teeth.

Matt wanted you to beg. You knew that and you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of it. So instead, you leaned forward, kissing along his collarbone. Aka his hot spot that always, always did the job in getting you what you want.

And it did. As you sucked a mark into the spot just above his collarbone he stood, his arms tightly around you before he gently placed you on the bed, standing back up to pull the rest of his clothes off. In seconds he was back over you, his hand on your cheek.

“You want me to get you ready or do you think you can handle it?” Matt asked softly, his other palm pressing over your chest sensibly, just lightly running his thumb over your nipple as he spoke. You couldn’t wait any longer than you already were so, even though you weren’t sure you could, you nodded.

“I can handle it,” You put a hand on the side of his neck, holding onto him as he nodded, slotting himself between your legs.

Even when you’d done this million times, the warmth of Matt’s skin always made you twist and turn, the anticipation of feeling him grew like a hot air balloon in your stomach. “Okay, tell me to stop if it hurts too much.” Even in his lust filled mindset his first thought was always you.

No matter what, Matt did what he could to make sure you were having as good of a time as he was. So his eyes trained on your face as he pushed in, soothingly running his thumb across your cheek as your face screwed up.

Matt wasn’t big by most means but he was big enough to stretch you out, sending a burning sensation through your thighs every time he entered you. The pain never lasted long, usually subsiding within the first few seconds. But that was also after he’d already fingered you.

This was probably the first time he went in without the foreplay and honestly, you might have regretted it a smidge but the second the pain subsided the doubt went out the window and a moan left your lips.

“You alright?” He asked softly, yet to move his hips.

“Mhm,” As soon as you nodded Matt pulled back, slowly rolling his hips back into you. Your eyes were still squeezed shut but as your body loosened, he continued to move. With Matt it was always, well, at least usually, sensual. He liked taking his time.

Liked moving that one way that had your toes curling as you tightened your legs around him. And this was no different. Strategically he thrust into you. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling them as close as he could get as he leaned down to kiss you.

His lips always felt amazing, even more so when he was deep in you and hitting every spot perfectly. It was like his kisses could coax an orgasm out of you the same way his tongue around your clit could.

Something about Matthew Casey was just so perfect that he molded perfectly to you every time, every night. Your hands grasping his face tightly pushed his movements to grow faster, losing himself in the heat of your body, wet skin slapping together roughly as each moan went right to where you two were connected.

“God I love you,” He muttered roughly into your ear before biting at your lobe, his eyes fluttering shut. Matt was trying his hardest not to cum yet, making sure you were first was also something he always did. Very gentlemanly, of course.

Your head went back as he spoke, your eyes darting across his blissed out face. “I love you,” All of your emotions managed to come out when you were together, and this was no different. The serotonin or dopamine or whatever it was that spilled into your brain was always met with Matt’s touch and love.

Matt’s hand slid between your legs, slowly rubbing at your clit the opposite of his thrusts, relishing in the way his name slid off your tongue at the newly added sensation. “I love you so much. My girl,” He spoke, knowing his loving words and tone always made your stomach pull into knots. “Gonna be with me forever, hm? Always with me. Gonna get married,” His fingers sped up slightly as you gazed up at him, eyes locking.

“Gonna have my babies. Have a family. Always going to be mine, huh princess?” His last couple of thrusts sent you overboard, eyes failing to stay on his as they squeezed shut, backing lifting off the bed as you saw stars.

Matt took the opportunity to wrap his other arm around you, fingers slowing until they stopped, allowing himself to focus on working you through your own high and finally releasing inside of you. His chest rose and fell quickly, gently pulling himself out and off of you as your hand trailed up his arm and to his face.

“You better make good on those promises.” You muttered, stroking a thumb across his face. Matt tilted his head slightly, mind clouded by his orgasm, all he could think about was you.

Softly he hummed and you smiled softly, keeping your eyes on him. “Marrying me.” He leaned down, catching your lips in his once more, slowly moving against them.

"I plan to."

Wanna join Matt's tag list?

tags: @winchesterszvonecek

[bunnyluvx]

spring is my favorite season.

featuring: niran pruksamanee (lifeweaver) x m!reader.

summary: you learn new things about yourself after a late-night study session with your best friend.

warnings: n/a.

tags: vishkar student niran and reader | best friends who should definitely kiss | serious pining from niran | oblivious reader | domestic fluff

a/n: HEYYYY GUYS!! i didn't realize that july was the last time i posted eyfubino i am so sorry. i struggled with finding an idea for a new fanfic but i finally got one!!!! im honestly really happy with how this turned out, i have been wanting to get into overwatch for a really long time and i finally have it on my switch so i have been going CRAZY. everything may not be completely accurate with this so please forgive me if i missed something with the story. as far as i know, ow lore is really screwy so everyone has kind of made their own story and this is a brief look into my interpretation of things before niran joined overwatch. hope you guys enjoy!!!!!!!

date started: 8:01PM, september 7th, 2024.

date finished: 8:27PM, september 11th, 2024.

wc: 2.9k

ao3

Quiet swarms throughout the hallways of the building. Vishkar's dorms are surprisingly relatively peaceful. Though they don't come without their commotion, it brings enough solace to its residents so that they can go about their business uninterrupted. You disturb the silence when you exit your room, the door clicking closed at your side and your key sliding into the lock to secure it. Once finished, you walk three doors down and knock. You carry an armful of books and papers, resting the stack on your hip while you wait for the door to open. You barely have to practice your patience, for the door swiftly clears your path and your vision is greeted with a new sight.

On the other side is a tall young man with tan skin, long white hair tied up into a bun on the back of his head. Wearing a loose, white button-up shirt, black pants and a smile stands Niran Pruksamanee, your best friend. You met in one of the school's labs when you were working on your respective projects, and he was curious about yours, so he asked you about it. You discussed your works, exchanged contact information and the rest is history. The friendship that you have developed with Niran is one that you have needed all of your life. Throughout your years, you have wondered if anybody was going to care for you as much as you did for them, to match your energy in all things. You have not wondered that since you found Niran. He is your person, through thick and thin, and you could not want anyone else.

"You're here! It's about time." The man greets you, stepping aside while keeping the door ajar. "I thought that I was going to have to start without you."

You roll your eyes playfully, a crooked grin on your face as you walk in. "Yeah, yeah, relax, drama queen. Your gracious king has arrived."

The door closes behind you as you kick off your shoes, replacing them with a pair of blue slippers that Niran bought just for you. When you turn around, Niran's hands rest over his heart, his eyes turned up away from you. "Oh, my dearest, I have missed you so! I could have withered away from the ache alone! Wherever have you been?"

You decide to play into the charade, a little smirk playing on your lips as you take one of Niran's hands and pull him closer to you. "So sorry to keep you waiting, darling, I was asleep in the royal chambers. Could you ever forgive my tardiness?"

Eyes slightly widen and the smile falters from his lips in surprise for only a moment before his face relaxes and the smile returns. "Perhaps. But only if you prepare our feast tonight."

You break your character with a chuckle and release his hand, letting yours drop to the side. "Fine. Let's go."

With that, you both walk to Niran's room. You bump the door open with your hip, Niran heading to the door opposite to his room to grab a chair for you to sit on. You move to the desk and carefully set your stack of belongings onto the desk that sits directly across from the entrance, turning around to meet your best friend's eyes to ask, "Where's Satya?"

When you turn around, the white-haired man has already entered the room with your seat, rolling it behind you and taking a seat in the chair that already stood in front of the desk. "She is in the labs. She won't be back for awhile."

You glance at the seat that Niran pulled up for you, eyes looking back to him. "You're sure it's okay if I use her chair?"

Niran waves off your concern, leaning back. "Of course it is! Satya won't mind as long as we put it back when we're done with it."

You nod before turning to look at Niran's desk. It's littered with papers, stationary items messily placed into organizers and two lights resting near the corners of his desk on the edge. Your dearest friend has never been very put-together when it comes to his study spaces. You can tell when he has been working on something for days at a time without sleep when his room looks like a tornado went through it. Luckily for him, you are always there to remind him to take breaks to take care of himself.

While he does that, you clean and organize his desk, slipping papers into folders and setting them aside. You always make sure to label them too, so that when he returns to his work, Niran will know where everything is. You also cook for him, run him baths, do his laundry, anything that needs to be taken care of is a task that you are willing to take on. He always tells you how grateful he is when you're done too, and despite you telling him not to, he manages to somehow return the favor.

"Let's clear all of this up first, then we can get started." You instruct, moving to slide some of the papers towards you to pick up.

Niran salutes to your command and responds with, "Yes Sir!"

This makes you laugh, and together, you remove all of the unneeded materials from the desk to make room for both of your things. Working together makes it go much faster, and you're both able to start working before you know it. In between the focused silences, you converse and laugh over the latest gossip that you've overheard from other students. How it is that being around Niran makes your ability to focus so much better and so much worse at the same time is beyond you, but spending time with him like this is something that you always welcome.

Almost two and a half hours pass before you check the time, reading seven-thirty PM. You figure that you both could use a break, plus you need to fix dinner up. You practically have to drag Niran away from his task, but once you did and got him onto the couch, he didn't put up a fuss. You decided to make Tom Yum soup, something for the both of you to enjoy and that will leave you content for a few hours. The scent catches NIran's attention, moving his head up from his phone to you in the kitchen. "Is that Tom Yum?" He asks curiously, a smile gracing his lips.

"Yup. Figured it will motivate us." You confirm, stirring the large pot that brews before you.

A few brief moments of silence follow with your reply, which you find odd, until you feel strong arm come around your waist from behind. Your study buddy's chin rests on your shoulder and his eyes close, his voice rumbling a hum from low in his throat. "You know me so well."

Displays like this aren't exactly uncommon in your relationship. Holding hands while walking, draping arms around shoulders or waists, sitting in each other's lap, cuddling and napping, name it, you've probably done it together. Most of the time, you don't think about it too much, as you do not have shame when it comes to the way that you love your friends and how you express it. But there are times with Niran, that it feels different. Keeping you close to his side around strangers, or holding you tightly when you lay on top of him are examples that come to mind. Not to mention the fact that both of you refer to each other as soulmates, and gush for hours about each other to your friends. You would never tell Niran this, of course, but he seems to have no problem letting you know how much he adores you.

You know that your best friend is pansexual, but never once have you thought that he could have any feelings for you. If he had romantic feelings for you, then he would have told you by now. Your communication with each other is very open and straightforward, so if he had something to tell you, then he would. You yourself have always been straight, as far as you are concerned, so there is definitely nothing going on between the two of you. But if that's the truth, then why does your heart feel like it's about to leave your body??

You are frozen where you stand, your cheeks becoming brightly colored as the familiar sensation of the man's arms encases you in a protective warmth. Your eyes are blown wide, and your lips press together tightly. You've noticed recently that whenever he hugs you, your heart thrums a little faster in your chest. You brushed it aside, thinking that it was just excitement from the dearest person in your life showing you affection, but this is an entirely new level. You feel like you're in middle school, holding hands with your girlfriend in the halls for the first time. Everything in your body is screaming things that you can't understand, and your brain feels foggy. You have never reacted so extremely to his hugs before, so why is it now that you feel like you are about to combust where you stand??

Niran takes notice of the tension in your body quickly, lifting his chin from your shoulder to look at your face and ask, "Are you alright?"

You blink free from your daze, and glance at the man behind you. "I-I'm fine!"

A small frown tugs on his lips as he sees that you are very clearly not fine. "Are you uncomfortable? I can stop if you do not want me to do this."

Your cheeks only become brighter as you turn to him, his arms momentarily sliding off of your waist when you scramble to answer, "N-No! Nononononnononnnonnono, I am not uncomfortable at all! It's fine, Niran, really."

The man tilts his head, frown still curled in a pout on his face. "You're sure?"

You nod to him, a wobbly smile twitching on your lips. "Y-Yes! Yes, everything is fine, I promise."

Deciding to trust your words, NIran nods. "Alright, but you are more than free to tell me to get off if you want me to, okay?" He reminds you, wanting to ensure your comfort with him.

You nod again. "I know. I will, I promise." You reassure him, only then does he become content with your answer and step forward to return your back against his chest and his arms around your waist. His chin props itself onto your shoulder, and you quietly return to the pot in front of you.

The silence lasted long enough for the blush on your cheeks to dissipate, tension mostly leaving your muscles. The butterflies in your stomach persistently flutter around, but you try to play it cool. Niran does not make this easy for you, a smirk curling onto his lips as he lifts his chin from its resting spot a little as his eyes meet yours from the side. "Don't tell me that you're falling for me."

A cruel soul your friend is, for the butterflies in your stomach spread throughout the rest of your body. Your shoulders rise from the tension, and your body whips around to face his. "Niran!!" You exclaim, the heat rising in your face drastically.

Your reaction makes him laugh, arms hovering over his stomach before one moves so that his hand rests on his hip. The other rises to his chin, metal fingers gently stroking it as he looks away to pretend to be pondering. "Hmm, well..it was only a matter of time, I suppose. Everybody falls for me eventually. I'm not surprised."

You laugh at his confidence and gently push him backwards before turning back to your shared dinner. An open-mouthed smile stretches its way onto his lips as he watches you, an amused huff passing through his nose before he folds his hands behind his back and steps forward. "So? Are you?" He questions further, a mischievous grin on his face that says that he's trying to pull more reactions out of you.

Instead of answering his question, you turn off the stove and grab two bowls from the cabinets next to you. You pour out two servings and hold one out to him. "Here, eat." You redirect him, the tan man letting out an elongated sigh before taking the bowl you offer to him and stomping to the couch.

You chat throughout the meal, and you swear that a conversation with Niran is never a conversation without laughter. He always knows the punchlines to make and just how to make them so that you'll remember it for weeks afterwards. Not a day goes by where he does not make you giggle at least once, and every time he is able to draw one from you, he feels accomplished. If making you laugh is the only thing that he will ever do right in this world, then he's okay with that.

After finishing dinner, you both return to studying. You worked relentlessly for hours, only taking one break to grab a snack and water without counting bathroom breaks. What happened while you were preparing dinner remained in the back of your mind the entire time that you worked. If you could have stayed in his arms like that forever, you would have without hesitation. His embrace brings a comfort that you long for every moment that you are not in it, and you believe that nothing can compare to it. It is warm, loving and everything you could ever want. None of this means that you're falling in love with him, though, right? His teasing rings around in your brain ruthlessly, a question that you're sure wasn't meant to be taken seriously, but now, it has seeped well past your physical body and latched onto your conscious.

Your head spins non-stop the closer all of these thoughts were to the front of your mind, so you decided to work even harder to try to ignore it. When Niran noticed that you were starting to get sleepy and almost nodding off to sleep, he told you to sleep in his bed. You insisted that you were fine, that you didn't need to sleep, and as much as he wanted to pick you up and throw you onto the bed to make you sleep, he resisted and decided to let you meet the consequences of your actions when you would wake up tomorrow with a sore neck and back. You eventually did pass out over the desk, head tucked in your arms snuggly.

Niran didn't notice that you had passed out until almost an hour after, his eyes drifting up from the book in his hands to check on you. Seeing you all tuckered out over his desk brings a smile to his face. You have always pushed yourself far past your limits, much like him. Maybe that's why the two of you are so good for each other, and why he likes you so much. You are one in the same, and you always take care of one another. When he needs someone to ramble to, you are his person, and when you are feeling down, he is the one that picks you up. More than anything, he loves you, and knowing that you are in it for the long haul brings him more joy than he could ever express to you.

He has been in love with you for a very long time. The teasing, the "jokes", the attention and affection that he gives you are very real, and he has been waiting for you to realize his feelings for a very long time. He hasn't told you yet for that reason, not to mention how funny he finds your obliviousness. The man sets his book onto the desk and stands from his seat, grabbing a big, fluffy blanket from his bed and returning to his seat. He slides right next to you and wraps the blanket around both of your shoulders comfortably. His arms rest crossed on the desk and adjusts the blanket on his shoulders a little before tucking his head against them closely, brown eyes taking the time to admire your sleeping face. Nothing could wipe away the lovesick smile on Niran's face as he is blessed with this moment, where he gets to cherish the peace that is designated for just the two of you. Curse the heaviness that weighs into his eyes as they slow to a close, for he wanted to look at you just a little bit longer before falling asleep.

You do not expect what you see when you awaken the next morning. Your eyes peel open to a familiar face, fast asleep directly in front of yours. It takes you a few seconds to realize how close Niran is to you, your spatial awareness clouded by sleepiness. But oh, once you recognize that there is no space between your faces, your cheeks are set ablaze. You are wide awake now, eyes blown completely open and body still as stone. Your instincts tell you to back up, but you are far too flustered to bring yourself to move. There's also part of you that doesn't really want to move. You have been in close proximity to Niran when you have cuddled before, but now, you can take the time to gaze at him uninterrupted. His sleeping face is relaxed and his hair falls into a pool of angel wing white behind his head. Compared to the smug persona that he dresses himself with on a daily basis, he looks serene in this moment. Oh, how you wish that you had the ability to stop time, because if you could, you would pause everything just so that you could look at him more.

…Fuck.

@BUNNYLUVX ,, all rights reserved. do not copy/plagiarize any of my works or submit it into ai. any and all support is appreciated! <3

[yoongissweetdream]

500 FOLLOWERS = 500 WORDS EVENT

Surprise, Surprise | Jongho

-> Pairing: Choi Jongho x gf!Reader

-> Requested by: anon

-> Prompt: 23 - "What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

-> Warnings: hints at Non-Idol AU. Engagement (don't ask me how it turned into an engagement fic. It just did). Mentions of a surprise party (which it was originally supposed to be).

-> Word Count: 633

-> Taglist: Open. You can fill out the Tag List Form (events are included in general tag list) or send an ask/message.

500 followers Event M.List | Jongho Masterlist | ATEEZ Masterlist

Y/N and Jongho walk along the river, their hands joined together as they make their way home. They've just spent the last few hours, having lunch, shopping, and enjoying each other's company. Despite living together, life had a way of getting busy so it's been a while since they've had a day like today. And to make it even better, it's Jongho's birthday and it was a much-needed escape from their routine. They took it as a chance to reconnect and enjoy being together again, just the two of them. Jongho insisted from the moment they woke up that he didn’t need anything more than uninterrupted time together, but Y/N couldn't stop herself from buying him a few more gifts.  

Now, they’re on their way back to their apartment for a final surprise that Jongho knows nothing about. This surprise was Wooyoung and Hongjoong's idea. They wanted to do something extra special for the maknae of their friend group for his birthday. When they told Y/N what they wanted to do, she knew right away she could use their birthday pact as a distraction. A year into their relationship, they had made an agreement to take their birthdays off and celebrate the day together. She had entrusted her key to Seonghwa, knowing he would keep it safe, so they could access the apartment after the couple had left. 

Y/N glances at Jongho and notices a thoughtful expression on his face. For a brief moment, she worries he might have found out about the surprise party. She wouldn’t put it past Yeosang, San and Mingi to accidentally let it slip. "What’s going on inside that head of yours?” she asks. 

Jongho looks at her, his eyes meeting hers with a soft smile playing on his lips. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” he replies, his voice light and teasing.  

Y/N feels her cheeks grow warm as her heart flutters at his words. “You’re lucky?” she teases back, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. “I think I’m the lucky one.”  

“Seriously though,” Jongho continues, his tone shifting to something more contemplative, “I’ve been thinking about how this is my third birthday we’ve spent together and how quickly those years have gone. Those birthdays will always be special, but this one… it’s going to be extra special.” 

“Really?” she asks, a hint of confusion in her voice as he gently stops her and turns her to face him. For a moment, her heart races with worry, fearing he might have figured out the surprise. “What makes you say that?” 

Jongho’s gaze softens as he studies her, his brow slightly furrowed in thought. “I don't know," he shrugs as he reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a ring box. "Maybe it has something to do with this?"  

Y/N's worry completely disappears as her breath catches in her throat. She stares at the small velvet box in Jongho's hand, with wide eyes. “Jongho…” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. 

He kneels down, gaining the attention of a few people that are sitting around the area. "When I said that our time together is the only birthday gift I want, I truly meant it. I can’t envision my life without you. You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me," he says, looking up at her with his big, warm brown eyes, brimming with all the unconditional love he has for her. "I want to celebrate every birthday with you for the rest of our lives. So please, make my birthday wish come true and say you'll marry me."  

Y/N feels a smile break across her face, as tears of joy stream down her cheeks. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!” she exclaims as she rushes forward to wrap her arms around him. 

© 2024 yoongisssweetdream - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead.

@staytiny2000 - @katzline - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @rainydayteacups

@green-agent - @tinyelfperson – @hollxe1 – @deltamoon666 - @skz1-4-3

@everythingboutkpop - @oddracha - @http-gyu - @skittyneos - @pinkpunkdynamite

@keshivibes - @katsukis1wife - @jjoongstar - @arki-sha - @forever-atiny

@lixisoul99 - @do-you-remember-summer-127 - @catzachvsvt - @ateez-atiny380

[wileys-russo]

Thinking about golden retriever girlfriend lessi and how she would forever attack your neck from behind when you’re trying to study because she’s bored and needy and can’t sit still

book worm II a.russo

you exhaled heavily as your fingers mashed furiously against your keyboard, eyes trained with laser focus to the laptop screen in front of you, though struggling to stay open as your unfinished thesis glared back mockingly at you.

"baby, are you nearly done?" your gaze flickered upwards to the blonde looking down at you, toned arms folded over her chest and a slight pout on her lips as she stood in front of you with a frown, the sleeves of her training top rolled up having had to train in a harsh summer heat.

you forced your eyes away, knowing if you focused too much on her exposed muscles she would catch on and you'd shortly pay for it.

"no less i'm not, i told you this already...when you asked me five minutes ago." you couldn't help but roll your eyes at your girlfriends impatience, not having gotten more than ten minutes of uninterrupted silence since she'd returned from afternoon training, blowing off her team mates plans and making a beeline straight for your room.

you'd tried your best to convince the taller girl to return to her own dorm for even a few hours so you could concentrate, but with a false promise that she would use the time to work on her own papers, and a very convincing argument that you'd hardly know she was here, here she was....doing the complete opposite.

you loved her very very dearly, but she had the attention span of a fly and sometimes you felt more like her babysitter than her girlfriend, forever dragged away from whatever you were doing with requests that she needed you to entertain her.

which most of the time simply meant making out for hours on end, which was probably the only activity she could do for so long without growing restless and needing to move onto something else, her hands always occupied and roaming every inch of your skin she could pinch or bite at.

"but i'm bored!" the striker whined, collapsing backwards onto your bed with a dramatic groan. "then go hang out with your friends! i told you i needed to study, i have until the end of the week to finish this thesis." you sighed, not missing how the blonde perked up at your words, quick to sit up and give you a grin.

"alessia, no." you warned firmly, unsure what she would do next but knowing the cheeky twinkle in her eyes well enough to know it would not be to leave you alone in peace to do your work.

"so really then since you have another....four days. you don't have to do your work right now?" your girlfriend smiled teasingly, standing up from the bed and slowly making her way over to where you sat at your desk.

"no, that is not what i meant!" you huffed defensively, attempting to shake her off as her arms wrapped around you from behind. "but...it's true, no?" her hand darted around to shut the screen of your laptop as your head thumped down onto the desk with a long sigh.

"lessi-" you started, ready to practically beg for her to just leave you alone for an hour so your stress could ease. "mm?" the striker hummed, her lips pressing feather light kisses to your neck as your eyes fluttered close.

though as you felt her quickly bite at her favorite spot of your tanned skin, running her tongue over the red mark before placing a gentle kiss over the fast forming hickey, hands wandering a little lower, your brain began to go foggy.

"no! less you always do this." you snapped out of it, pushing your chair back slightly as the blonde stumbled away.

"do what exactly?" alessia accused with a frown as you spun around in your chair to face her properly. "kiss my neck and get all handsy when i'm trying to study and you want attention, it's not fair because you know i have a sensative neck." you glared at her as an amused smirk tugged at her lips.

"you're insufferable russo!" you groaned, spinning back around and thumping your head down against the desk again with a deep sigh.

"excuse me moody, your loving adoring girlfriend is trying to kiss you here if you don't mind?" alessia sung out in your ear, body pressed against your back and poking and prodding at your sides as you shoved her away and stood up quickly from your chair.

"and where are you going?" alessia crossed her arms and puffed out her chest, standing toe to toe with you as you stared her down.

"to the library, where i can study in peace!" "may i ask you a question before you leave?" "fine." "do you just not love me?"

"oh not this again!" you groaned loudly, throwing your head back. "because if you loved me, you wouldn't leave me right now when i'm simply bored and wanting to spend time with my girlfriend. just trying to be a good partner and make her feel good, just simply doing my best to love her as she deserves!" alessia threw her hands up with an overdramatic sigh, and you struggled not to break out into a smile at her antics.

"has anyone ever told you that you're a child?" "just this super attractive but really mean girl i'm seeing." "you should listen to her, she sounds smart." "she tries, really she's just a massive teachers pet with a big mouth."

the blonde grinned at the obvious offence on your face, quick to grab you by the hips and tackle you down onto your bed, crawling on top of you.

"now shut up and kiss me, book worm."

[avacoleman]

all i wanted (was you) || a firstprince fic

summary: It’s been nearly a decade since exes Henry and Alex have last seen or heard from each other. After one unexpected night of reuniting thanks to the meddling of their mutual friend, the pair find that neither time nor circumstance can stop their flame from rekindling. With the complications of Henry’s marriage to another man and his scheduled return to London looming, the two must navigate life’s difficulties as they grapple with what a possible future could mean for them.

chapter 7/9 || rated e || read on ao3

“Okay, if that’s everything, I hereby release you all back into the wild,” Pez says, striking his pen against the conference room table like a gavel, calling an end to the directors’ meeting.

It comes as a relief; Henry’s mind has been elsewhere during this morning’s meeting and he’s glad for the dismissal. What he wants more than anything is to be left alone right now, to have at least ten minutes to himself where he can recenter and attempt to get his head on straight.

He rises from his seat as his colleagues do, packing his laptop and pocketing his phone. He’s been moving on autopilot ever since returning home after a weekend spent with Alex. It had been an incredible few days. With Daniel out on Long Island, too distracted by his friends or whoever else, Henry was free to spend uninterrupted hours with Alex, to the point where Henry walked away from Alex’s place feeling completely spoiled by it. 

Now, coming back to everyday life, it’s almost like experiencing withdrawal. What’s worse, Henry thinks, is the fact that all of this is set to come to an end soon. For as glad as he is that the Okonjo Foundation has succeeded in their dealings, it means he’s almost run out the clock on his time in New York.

He hasn’t missed London or his life back there. The thought of returning to it, of being secluded from Alex and Pez again makes him immeasurably sad.

This past month in New York has been nothing short of restorative. 

Henry avoids post-meeting small talk and beelines for his office. The second the door closes, Henry feels as if he takes his first real breath of the day.

He crosses the room to sit at his desk, blindly placing his laptop on the surface. There are emails to respond to and calls to make, but all Henry can see in his mind’s eye is Alex.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and for a moment, he thinks of calling Alex just to hear his voice. Instead, he goes to his photos, smiling a little to himself as he studies one of the candid pictures of Alex he’d taken this weekend. 

Henry had been given the easy task of cutting fruit while Alex did the heavier lifting for breakfast, his culinary skills far more trusted than Henry’s.

“I love you, but you can’t cook for shit,” Alex had said, by far the most endearing insult Henry has ever received. 

He’d been all too happy to follow Alex’s instruction.

It allowed him to sneak in a few pictures of Alex as he set about making French toast, as he scrambled eggs shirtless and beautiful in his sun soaked kitchen the morning after Henry vowed he’d always choose Alex.  

He’d kissed Alex long and hard in thanks, reveling in the sweet taste of strawberries and syrup on the man’s lips after they finished their meal.

Henry had been struck tenfold with the same thought repeatedly. A life like this could so easily be theirs. Lazy mornings with them in the kitchen, Alex making breakfast as Henry does his best to play sous chef. He could see it so clearly in his head. It left him feeling sick with want, like an aching in a hungry belly. He was simply starved for it.

He and Alex were made for each other, there’s no doubt in his mind. He knows he’s lucky in a way most people aren’t, for his first love to be his one true love. 

He looks at his phone again, reflecting on the sheer bliss that was this past weekend. It’d felt like they were existing on their own plane of reality, within a safe bubble that was just theirs to keep.

He and Alex had sat around for hours just talking, listening to each other vent about everything from stresses at work to lighter things like random hypotheticals. With Alex, Henry found life was always just easy, effortless even. He could be vulnerable and honest and silly and every other version of himself in between without judgment.

He’d taken Alex right there in the kitchen, making a mess of a different kind after they’d eaten and cleaned up. Henry had been so overcome with the way Alex looked standing there, golden and perfect in the light of early morning. He’d bent Alex over the counter, much to the other man’s delight.

Henry can practically still feel Alex’s fingers in his hair as he’d reached a hand back, gripping tight as Henry worked himself in steadily. Henry’s ears still swim with the sound of Alex’s needy whimpers and shaky breaths. 

It’d been torture leaving last night. Henry left as late as he could, desperate to spend as much time in Alex’s company as possible. He longs to return. Alex’s brownstone has felt more like home in these last few weeks than the condo Henry owns with Daniel. That within itself tells Henry all he needs to know. 

It’d even felt strange this morning waking up alone. For a fleeting moment, he’d anticipated the sight of Alex beside him. To find an empty place and cold sheets instead had been disorienting. 

Any time spent away from Alex was simply no good.

Henry shifts his focus and looks out at the city streets below.

It feels like so much of the world is still moving and yet, in his mind, he’s stuck. Perhaps physically too, he reconsiders as he looks down at the gold band on his finger.

Henry fiddles with it, feeling nothing more than detachment brewing inside. Maybe even resentment.

“You’ve perfected the art of brooding, my friend.”

Henry jumps a little at the sound of Pez’s voice breaking him from his thoughts. He looks away from the window, swiveling to face his office at large to see Pez standing in the doorway. Henry hadn’t even heard the door open in the first place.

“I wanted to check in on you. You’ve been lost in your own world since you came in this morning. Looks like that mood is still going strong,” Pez notes, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. 

Henry smiles softly at him, appreciative of the fact that he has a friend as good as Pez. 

Pez struts across the room and drops himself into one of the chairs opposite Henry.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“Surely they’re worth more than that.”

“Judging by how distracted you’ve been, I’d wager you’re correct. But as your best mate, I should be getting them free of charge.”

Henry snorts lightly and nods in agreement.

“Compelling argument.”

He pulls in a deep breath and lets it out in a huff. His fingers once more find their way to his wedding ring like a nervous tick. Pez’s eyes catch on, though he opts not to say anything.

“I’ve been having an honest conversation with myself about my marriage,” Henry starts slowly. 

Pez’s eyes widen but he remains quiet. Knowing Pez, Henry is sure it’s taking all of his friend’s willpower not to scream or interrupt. Henry inhales deeply before he continues.

“I’m finally coming to terms fully with the fact that I’ve made a mistake and I’m accepting that I deserve better. I wish I would have had the courage to say something before, but this past month or so has made it undeniable and impossible to ignore any longer.”

He sighs and lays his hands flat on the table.

“I need to end it with Daniel. I have to. And not just because of Alex, though I can’t deny that plays a part in it. In all honesty, I miss being happy. Being here, it’s reminded me of just how much my life has been lacking in that regard.”

Pez places a hand over his briefly and gives it a comforting squeeze. Henry smiles a little at him, fortified by his best friend’s support.

“I’ve gone my whole life knowing what I’ve wanted a partnership to be and I don’t have that with Daniel. I’m not sure I ever truly did. I tried so hard to force it, to shape myself to fit some kind of mold. I’ve put up with a lot of stuff I shouldn’t have, all to keep the peace and make everyone else happy.”

Henry shakes his head, his heart racing but his mind is clear.

“Somewhere along the way, I lost myself. I miss the person I used to be but I’ve been getting him back. Being here has restored something inside me. It might be selfish, but I don’t want to part with this feeling.”

“It’s all yours. You shouldn’t have to go without it. Never again, my darling.” Pez sighs and smiles brightly. “I’m so proud of you, Hazza.”

Henry smiles back, a surprised laugh bubbling from his lips.

“Thank you. I think I’m proud of myself too.”

“You bloody well should be. This is major.”

Pez gives his hand one last squeeze and sits back in his seat.

“When are you going to break it to Daniel?”

Henry pulls in a breath. It’s a daunting thought, the prospect of sitting Daniel down and having this talk he’s been putting off for two years, but he knows it needs to be done.

“As soon as possible.” Henry shakes his head and sits up straighter. “No. Tonight, actually. I’ve waited long enough. I can’t keep putting this off for another day. Mentally and physically, I can’t take it anymore. He flies back to London on Wednesday. I need to take advantage of the time we have here together. Whatever he might have going on, I’m going to get his attention and have this out.”

Pez smiles, his head tilting to the side a bit. He squints one eye as he looks at Henry.

“What is it?” Henry asks, his own brows furrowing. Pez merely grins.

“Nothing. You look lighter already. I love that for you. Looks good.”

Henry smiles a little.

“I’m still scared and dreading this completely.”

“That’s to be expected. I’d think you mad if you weren’t nervous about a big talk such as this. But I also know you’re going to be all the better for it in the end. I’m sure he’s been skating around this too. It might be an easier discussion than you’re thinking it’ll be.”

Henry certainly hopes so. In an ideal scenario, he’d present Daniel with how he’s feeling and his husband won’t champion for them to be together. With luck, Daniel will stop Henry before he even has a chance to get his entire spiel out and reveal he’s of the same mind too.

“You don’t think I’m a failure for calling it quits?”

“Absolutely not, are you kidding me? It’s brave, Hazza. I think you need to change the lens you’re seeing this through. Good Lord, finding yourself again is the ultimate success. Own it, darling. This is your time now.”

Henry huffs out a laugh.

“I didn’t take the most conventional path to get here.”

Pez scoffs and waves him off, puffing up his chest with a smirk.

“Where’s the fun in conventional? Besides, what matters is that you took the journey and made it through. That’s worth celebrating. Hell, I have half the mind to throw you a party. God knows you’ve earned it.”

“I’d settle for a drink. I think I’m going to need that a bit more.”

“That I can do. You and me as soon as it hits five. We can work on what you’ll say to Daniel or we can just drink our faces off and not utter another word about him. Whatever you’d like.”

Henry sighs.

“Thanks for always being there, Pez. Not to put too fine a pony mint on it but, I do appreciate you enduring this all alongside me over the last few years. I should have listened to you from the start. I wouldn’t be in this situation now if I had. You saw through him from day one.”

“Every experience is a lesson learned. It might have been difficult but, babes, look at you now. You don’t have to dim your light any more. You get to shine brighter than ever before. And the world is better for it.”

~*~

Henry’s post-work happy hour regroup with Pez had done wonders for his state of mind in the moment. But now that Henry finds himself alone journeying back to his condo, he can practically feel his confidence draining like a tank inching closer to empty. He hates the way he’s allowed Daniel to make him feel so small and insignificant. After tonight though, Henry hopes he can do away with that once and for all.

He makes his way to his condo, looking up at the building with mild trepidation. He can see the lights are on. Henry squares his shoulders and stands up straighter. He has Pez’s voice in his head and Alex’s face in his mind’s eye. Armed with those two things, Henry knows he can get through anything– even something as daunting as this.

He lets himself in, toeing off his shoes at the front door.

“Daniel?” Henry calls out, setting his keys and work bag down.

The silence of the condo unnerves him, but Henry can see Daniel’s keys in the dish here in the entryway. He knows he’s not alone. Henry winds further into the house and hears a light rustling of sound coming from the kitchen.

Henry’s stomach knots at the sight of Daniel standing there in the center of the room. He’s nursing a glass of amber colored liquid, most likely bourbon— his preferred drink of choice. Henry’s own stomach roils with the drinks he had earlier.

Daniel doesn’t rush to greet him, he barely manages to offer Henry a glance. The awkwardness sets Henry’s teeth on edge. Daniel takes a slow slip of his drink before speaking.

“Good day at the office?” he asks simply.

“Yes, thanks. And you?” 

Daniel makes a noncommittal sound and takes another sip. 

“Can we talk?” Henry says, coming further into the room and sitting atop a stool.

Daniel’s brow lifts condescendingly.

“I was under the impression that’s what we were currently doing.”

Daniel chuckles at his own words, but Henry feels a flash of anger pulse through him.

“I don’t like it when you talk to me like that.”

Daniel scoffs. “Honestly, you’re so sensitive sometimes, Henry. It was merely a joke.”

“I didn’t find it funny.”

Daniel holds up both his hands. 

“Noted. I’ll take ‘harmless teasing’ off the list of things I’m allowed to do in my own home.”

Henry takes a deep breath, holds it in for three seconds and lets it out.

“This actually coincides with what I wanted to talk about. There’s no easy way to say this but, Daniel, I think we need to end this. Something has been broken for a long time between us and I’ve tried my best to push through, but it’s not working. I can’t…I can’t keep going like this.”

Henry feels every drop of the liquor he’s had tonight; he feels sick to his stomach. He takes another breath and looks at Daniel.

“I want a divorce.”

The words are spoken quietly but the severity of their weight hangs heavy in the room. Daniel’s eyes squint marginally as if trying to see something more closely in Henry.

“A divorce? That’s rather drastic.”

“Is it? We’re beyond a tentative separation. There isn’t anything to reconcile.”

Daniel shakes his head.

“I didn’t realize you were that miserable with me.”

“And that right there is the problem,” Henry lobs back. “I haven’t been myself in so long, I almost didn’t realize how far gone I was. Do you have any idea what it’s like to lose yourself that greatly? To become a ghost in your own life?”

Daniel doesn’t comment. He merely polishes off the rest of his drink, shaking his head to himself.

“What do you even love about me?” Henry asks. “Aside from my family name?”

“You’re being hysterical.”

Henry clenches his jaw, frustration pumping through his veins.

“You can’t even answer the question. Can’t you admit it? Even now? I’m not what you want. I don’t think I ever truly was.”

Daniel grits his teeth, his nostrils flaring.

“You’ve been seeing him since you’ve been here, haven’t you? The ex boyfriend. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?”

This catches Henry off guard for several reasons but his spine turns to steel as he sits up straighter at the callout. His instinct to protect Alex gives him a renewed fire.

“Alex. The love of my life. Yes, I have.”

Daniel stiffens at the sentiment. It’s minute, but Henry catches it anyway and feels vindicated in being able to find a crack in Daniel’s armor.

“So, that’s it then? He got into your head and poisoned you against me.”

“Pois- what? This isn’t even about Alex, not entirely. It's about what I deserve and I know that I deserve better than whatever this is. We both do,” Henry says. “If you were actually happy, you wouldn’t jump at any and every chance to be away from me. We hardly even talk to each other. That’s the bare minimum and we can’t even achieve that more often than not.”

Daniel searches his eyes and shakes his head.

“Have I seriously made you so unhappy that you’d throw all of this away?”

“You have to be joking me. Daniel, this isn’t worth holding onto. This isn’t a marriage. This isn’t real.”

“And your month-long tryst with the American is?”

“I’ve loved Alex since the day I met him. That’s real. That can’t be undone. This is so far beyond a few weeks of reuniting. He and I never should have ended things in the first place,” Henry snaps.

Daniel’s eyes grow cold, his jaw locking. Henry glares back at him as the line is drawn in the sand. 

“You haven’t seen this man in years and suddenly a month or so in his company is enough to make you give up on your marriage? Do you realize how mad that is?”

“He loves me in ways you never could. He actually sees me. You don’t get to stand there in judgement of me. Don’t you dare,” Henry spits. “You haven’t been a saint and you know it, Daniel. You gave up on us first. I’ve tried for so long to stick it out, to wait for things to get better. To make you see me. He’s never needed any prompting. I’ve never had to jump through hoops or prove my worth with him.”

The words pour out of Henry. The dam had broken entirely.

“You’ve kept me on a hook for two years, dangling above a hope that we could make this work. Just let me go.”

“If you don’t want to be here, I’m not going to force or beg you to stay. You’ve clearly made up your mind already.”

There’s freedom in that but also a profound, sobering sadness to hear so plainly that he’s not worth some sort of fight. Henry sits with it for a moment. The kitchen is so quiet, his ears practically ring with it.

Henry stands and Daniel begins to cross the room toward him, pausing mid stride to look Henry right in the eyes.

“For your sake, you’d better hope he’s worth it.”

Henry stares back defiantly, no fear or hesitation. No second guessing as he tips his chin up, his shoulders squaring.

“That’s the one thing in my life I’ve never had to doubt.”