#way too far ahead from how ever many years (

[chippycore]

in my mind ive straight up made wilhelm an oc...

[thebibliosphere]

Listen, if you’re messaging me to tell me you hate how slow I am at making “content” (i.e. 120k novels) and you wish I was less sick so you can get more “content” you can just go ahead and unfollow me now.

You’re being neither kind nor supportive by telling me you hate my disabilities because they prevent you from having fun.

“so-and-so has X disability too and that doesn’t stop them—“

I’m so pleased for them, but disabilities are not a monolith. We don’t even experience the same conditions the same way. Please never ever use one disabled person’s experiences or capabilities to negate the life experiences of another.

Also, the “if you have time to write fanfic you have time to work” comment was super shitty.

I have been exceptionally open with my struggles with mental health over the last few years. Do you know how hard it’s been for me to find enjoyment in anything since 2020?

Do you know what it means to me to finally have something that’s fun and just for me again that I’m not beating myself up over because I “Should” be working?

Obviously not, or you wouldn’t send messages like that. You can just kick rocks, as far as I’m concerned.

To everyone else who sends me sweet messages telling me they love Hunger Pangs and can’t wait for more but also to work at my own pace: thank you. I don’t get to reply to as many of you as I’d like, but it means a lot to me to know you care about my health and mental wellbeing.

Have a Holly Mop watching over me. (Feat Mothman)

[c0nfessions-of-a-writing-freak]

Whispering Woods

Pairing: Hiccup 'Horrendous’ Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 1k

Summary: When the world gets too much for you, you have the tendency to 'run' away sometimes. This time you and your dragon don't get the peace and quiet that comes with it for too long as it seems you have an admirer waiting to make their presence known.

Bingo: @eclipsingbingo with the square 'Hand Kisses'

(Y/N): Your name

(D/N): Dragon's name

(D/S): Dragon species

(W/C): Weapon of choice

*Gif does not belong to me

It wasn't unusual for you to take a break from Berk every once in a while. Hopping on (D/N)'s back and flying off without a word to anyone else on the island. You knew it wasn't the smartest thing to do, not when Drago Bloodyfist or whatever Hiccup had called him recently attempted to take control of all of Berk's dragons, but you couldn't help yourself. There was nothing better the disappearing for a few hours with nothing but the wind in your hair, your (D/S) under you and the quietness that came with it.

The only repercussions for disappearing that you've ever gotten were some annoyed friends or a worried Hiccup, which you could say was one of the worse options since he tended to fret when you returned. Though anything was better than a mad Hiccup when you accidentally disappeared for three days and came back to half of Bekr looking for you since Hiccup had gotten worried enough to start a search party.

That's how you found yourself where you were now, surrounded by the quietness of a forest on some random island not too far away from Berk. The flight over had only taken twenty minutes as you and (D/N) took your time flying there.

(D/N) had slunk off not too long ago, making her own way through the forest as she explored, leaving you to your thoughts as you trailed after her, not trying very hard to keep up.

Berk had been hectic recently. Hiccup found his mum, Berk was attacked, you almost lost (D/N), and Stoick died... It was a lot to happen in the span of a few days, closer to a few hours if you don't count Hiccup's extended absence.

This island had seen worse for wear but there was still a lot of work that had to be done. Which you should be doing now but too many people were asking too much of you. You had also been avoiding meeting Hiccup's mum as the two of you had spared only a few words to one another when in the heat of battle.

It was a lot to think of all at once, so you found yourself off the island quicker than the Twins could say boar pit.

Being out here was doing wonders for your mind; calming you down and making it easier to think of nothing at all. It was all you could hope for, even if you knew you would have to head back soon unless you wanted Hiccup to deem this as another one of your escape attempts.

It was only when the forest got quieter than normal did you felt the need to come back to your senses, an actual need to be alert instead of walking around aimlessly as if you were on autopilot.

The soft thumping of (D/N)'s feet from ahead had stopped, along with the birds hidden in trees. The only noise that passed through was the rustling of leaves as a steady breeze glided through the woods. Your hand was itching down to grasp onto the small blade you had strapped to your belt, your (W/C) left on the saddle that (D/N) had run off with.

Before you had the chance to do anything though, a set of hands were slipping around your waist, tugging you back and into someone's chest softly. Years of Viking training were already kicking in as you raised an elbow, ready to dig it back with a low aim when someone caught onto your arm, stopping it in its motion.

"Hey," You struggled to get out, still trying to land a hit on the person behind you and push yourself away, attempting anything that would set you free.

"Calm down," A familiar voice laughed out, surprising you into stillness as your brain realised who it was. At your sudden stop, you were whirled around by the person who had disturbed you, being met with a bright smile and a deep set of green eyes as they bore into you. "I was wondering when you'd notice it was me."

"Hiccup," You deadpan, watching as the taller boy slowly pulled you closer, setting one of his hands on your waist without the hassle of a fight from you trying to dislodge it.

"(Y/N)," He copied, raising one of your hands with his free ones and bringing it up to his face, setting a soft brush of his lips on the back of it in the form of an extended greeting. You watched the motion with warm eyes, the annoyance that had crept up your spine dying down a bit.

"How long have you been here?" You questioned once your fingers got interlocked with his, not going to deny the soft touches as the both of your hands were brought down.

"Not long," Hiccup commented. Standing in front of you, Hiccup seemed like he didn't have a care in the world, reminding you of what you had left behind on Berk and how Hiccup himself could bring this feeling out of you. "Toothless saw you and (D/N) fly off not long ago and wanted to bring me to you so that he could play with them."

"Mm," You hummed, bringing your linked hands back up. For a short moment where your hands stayed hovering in the air, your lashes fluttering at Hiccup, you took him in, the small smile on your face expressing more words than you wanted to at the moment. Laying a kiss on the back of his hand, you murmur, "We better go find them then and make sure they don't get into too much trouble."

[blooberrries]

『consequential』 — satoru

— pairing: satoru x afab!reader — wc: 5k — content: mdni, nsfw; vampire au, college/university au, jealous/possessive satoru, blood drinking, vampire bites (chest, neck and arm), alcohol, mutual pining (a distant relative of idiots to lovers), piv sex, love bites (heh literally), standing/sex against the wall (he holds you up the entire time because he's actually insane), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming,he's a bit of a simp really idk if that was planned — notes: got possessed by the Horny Spirit, also not proofread. enjoy? also be gentle with me I haven't written smut in over a year

prompt: ["Oh, don't be cute."] + [“you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”]

While slightly spiteful, your plan had been simple and had about a 50/50 chance of succeeding, with minimal loss to you if it didn’t.

Two weeks ago Gojo Satoru had— after months of asking for it and being denied by you— finally gotten your permission to drink your blood. So he’d gone ahead and bitten you, you’d loved it and probably fell even more annoyingly head over heels for him as a result of the oddly erotic experience, and the way he had acted during the whole ordeal gave you a decent indication that he most definitely felt the same way you did.

You’d expected things to finally change between you after that, hell you’d actually been excited for it.

But instead of leaning into the shift in the dynamic between you, Satoru had instead decided to pretend you didn’t exist and proceeded to completely avoid you for the last two weeks.

(Which is actually quite the feat considering how much overlap there is between your friend groups. But you’re not impressed. You’re mad.)

To say you were upset would be an understatement. Your pride was wounded along with your ego, and you felt foolish and embarrassed and stupidly angsty. The unfortunate reality is that you’re not very good at processing those feelings, so in your time of need you turned to your most faithful, long-time friend: spite.

You know for a fact that Satoru likes the way you smell and taste– it’s one of the many things he’d let slip when sucking the blood ever so gently from the puncture he’d made in the soft flesh of your inner forearm. So you decided to wait until the prime part of your cycle, where the supernatural consensus said humans smelt their best, and you’d procured a tincture from your witch-in-training friend that would accentuate the natural appeal of your blood for certain creatures of the night (she’d assured you it was safe, but you have your own means of defending yourself anyway so you aren’t too worried.)

Then, you’d waltzed your way into a party that was being held at his shared accommodation and made it a point to have fun. The real goal of your plan, besides sticking it to him in the most subtle-not-subtle way ever, was also just to feel better about yourself. Your expectations being upended regarding how you’d hoped things would develop with Satoru had been a big blow and would take some TLC from yours truly to recover from.

You’ve had fun so far, you’re only a drink or so in and pleasantly buzzed, and you’re getting a lot of compliments on your perfume. You can’t exactly tell them you’re not wearing anything but eau de spite, but it does feel nice nonetheless. Each comment is like a balm to your poor, chafed ego. The only wrench in the works is that as expected, not long after you arrived, Satoru noticed you.

And then proceeded to continue in his efforts to avoid and ignore you. He’d disappeared into the throng of people on the other side of the house before you could even blink.

It takes a strongly mixed cocktail, courtesy of Shoko who you’re not sure isn’t trying to kill you with the alcohol content of these drinks, for you to settle your fuming. This is stupid— no, he’s stupid. Stupid sexy vampire with his stupid pretty eyes and stupid pretty face. How dare he let you make a fool of yourself by thinking there could be anything more between you! You never should have let him bite you. At least then things would still be the same and you wouldn’t be so torn between throttling him and kissing him.

Angrily, you take a hearty gulp of your drink. Despite the superficial fruity flavour it burns on the way down, unsurprisingly, and you have to breathe slowly through your nose so it doesn’t come back up. You’re no longer uncertain; you’re confident this cocktail is an attempt on your life.

It’s as you’re nursing that drink and leaning angstily against a wall in the corner of the room, that you sense someone approach you. Your eyes take a moment to adjust as you look up, surprise filtering through you once you register the figure by your side.

“Hey.”

Your brows shoot up, a small grin tugging your lips. “Oh? Long time no see, Mei Mei. What cave have you crawled out of to be here tonight?”

The snow-haired woman rolls her eyes, lips twitching. Her tongue darts to swipe over the tip of a pointed canine.

“Oh, you know, every homebody has to come out to play every once in a while.” Her nose twitches, and she leans forward slightly to inhale. Her eyes flutter wide in pleasant surprise. “Well, don’t you smell absolutely divine tonight. Special occasion?”

Kind of, but you’re not about to tell her that. Mei Mei can be a decent enough acquaintance so long as you keep her at arm’s length.

“I’m trying something new,” you answer simply. She hums, and when her body angles towards you again ever so slightly you become aware of the most odd, prickly sensation. It tickles the hairs at the back of your neck, and you fight the peculiar urge to turn and look around. All you’d see is dancing bodies and stumbling drunks, anyway.

“It suits,” Mei Mei purrs with a smile that makes you a little nervous. Music throbs against your body so strongly that for a moment you’re not sure whether the beat you’re feeling in your chest belongs to your heart or the song. “Though you ought to be careful going on campus smelling like that. You’ll lure in every bloodsucker in a five-mile radius.”

You suppose that means the tincture is doing its job. The way her eyes are appraising your pulse points keeps you feeling nervous, though. Perhaps… it wasn’t the best idea to make yourself smell so scrumptious after all. There are more than a few loose canons in the area.

It’s a little too late for regrets now, though. At this point you just gotta double down and own the decision.

“Noted,” you say, taking a hearty sip of your death-in-a-cup. The burn is now a pleasant distraction. You smile at Mei Mei and feel that prickly, hot feeling increase tenfold. What is that?!

The sensation has your heart rate elevating slightly, and it must make the aroma of your blood a little stronger because the vampire before you lets out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering shut. Almost like it’s instinct, she takes a step closer and leans her head towards the crook of your neck. Your startle is almost imperceptible, and you’re thankful that the top you opted for is one that saved the neck exposure for a well-placed boob window instead. The fabric covering half the expanse of your throat is probably the only reason you don’t freak out at her actions.

Her nose brushes your skin, dragging up the column of your throat until it flirts with the bottom of your earlobe. Your heart skips a beat before tumbling into a full gallop. It’s different to how it felt with Satoru— you don’t like this nearly as much. Your legs tense with the urge to leave.

“Really,” she says, purring your name. “You’ve got me feeling quite peckish. Won’t you let me have a little sn–“

A grip winds around your wrist like a vice, not painful but certainly unforgiving. Startled, you look up and see the person of the hour, the vampire you went to all this effort to torment in the hopes he would want you again. Wow, it doesn’t sound great when you think of it like that. The alcohol is certainly not helping your self-esteem right now.

Satoru’s pretty baby-blues are dark, pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen before, and his entire body is riddled with tension. He almost looks like the slightest pressure would have him snapping in half. His jaw is locked tightly, and he hisses through clenched teeth and descended fangs.

“Come with me. Now.”

You don’t get the chance to bid Mei Mei farewell, not that you really want to, and the last thing you see as you’re dragged out of the room is her waving a manicured hand your way, mouthing a playful ‘goodbye’. She looks far too amused for your comfort.

Right now, Satoru is nothing like the cheeky, carefree, shit-stirring bastard you’ve come to know and love. That isn’t to say you’re completely opposed to it, because the way he looks like know is a pretty big turn-on. But still – the difference is startling. You’re not sure how to navigate the situation.

Before you know it you’ve been unceremoniously relocated to his bedroom, and he is pressing you against the door the second it closes behind you with a heavy, loud THUD.

For a moment, the only sound that fills the space is that of the music beyond the wooden barrier. The bass is no longer indistinguishable with your heart beat – the stuttering rhythm that echoes against your rib cage is all you.

Satoru inhales deeply as though to calm himself down, only to let out a long, low groan immediately after. The sound affects you more than it probably should, heat winding pleasantly up your spine.

“What was that?” He demands, brows snapping together. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s most likely referring to Mei Mei being horny on main just before. His massive frame boxes you in against the door in such a way that you’re almost embarrassed by how much it makes your tummy flutter.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathe, chin tilted up as you hold his gaze. Something feral flickers through his expression.

“Oh, don’t be cute.” The words snap into the air, causing your breath to hitch. Satoru’s eyes flick to your forearm, where the slightest bruise still remains from the last time you were in close quarters like this. He swallows, piercing gaze returning to your own.

“I told you.” Satoru’s words leave in a snarl, his fingers firm against the flesh of your hips. His own body is so close to yours that you can feel the heat of it, the tingle of electricity that arcs between you. “That I would be able to smell it if another vampire so much as breathed near you. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you getting chummy with one in my own home?”

You can easily recall him saying that to you almost a fortnight ago, when he had been commenting that he could tell you hadn’t been bitten before thanks to his sharp senses and all that. You didn’t think he was lying. You are surprised that he cares, though. Something like indignation bubbles beneath your lungs, because how dare the bastard spout that shit when he just spent the last two weeks since your ‘encounter�� pretending you didn’t exist.

“Not sure why you give a shit,” you retort, squashing down a whine that begins to rise in your throat when his hips begin to press into yours. “Seemed like you were done with me after you finally got that taste you wanted so bad.”

His brows scrunch together, appearing confused for a second amongst the agitation on his features. You decide to fill the gap in the conversation on his behalf.

“I really was just a Sip ‘n’ Dip to you, huh,” you scoff, letting your head fall back against the door. His eyes snap to the column of your throat, more of which is now exposed. “At least now I know the only thing you want from me is my blood. Really saved me some grief there, Satoru.”

“Excuse me?”

When your eyes slide back to his face, he looks like you’ve physically struck him. His fingers dig into your hips almost out of habit, just shy of being painful. Anger still bubbles beneath your sternum, and you glare at him.

“By the way, as far as I’m aware, biting me once doesn’t give you any exclusive rights to my blood, so where the hell do you get off getting so shitty because someone else took a whiff–“

Satoru snaps.

“I don’t just want your blood,” he snarls, lips curling away from pin-prick sharp fangs. He has the nerve to look insulted. “I want you, you stupidly oblivious pain in my ass. All of you.”

He then leans in, erasing any foreign scents lingering on you and replacing it with something of his own, whatever pheromone bullshit vampires do. You’re too busy trying to stop your heart from having palpitations to focus on it too much because what the fuck did he just say—

“Do you have any idea how close I am to losing myself to a frenzy, like a fucking fledgling?!” His lips brush over the pulse point at your neck, and then teeth, razor-sharp and full of promise, drag over the skin of your clavicle, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You shiver, flushing with heat and desire. The threat of another bite is already enough to have your body reacting in memory of how the last one felt. You want him, god you want him so, so badly.

“I haven’t fed since then because I can’t get the taste of you out of my head, and I can’t stomach anything else. I can’t stop thinking about the noises you made when I sank my teeth into you, and the scent of absolute desire that filled the entire fucking room the second the venom kicked in for you.” Satoru’s words are punctuated by a prick just below your collarbone, the brief sting eliciting a gasp. Warmth begins to trickle thinly from the site and is quickly staunched by a press of his tongue, and he moans. You’re so painfully aroused that it nearly makes you dizzy. He groans, long and suffering. “Just like now.”

He moves lower and lower, hauling you off the floor and completely into his hold so his mouth can reach your chest without stooping. Suddenly in the air, you can’t help the way you yelp and wrap your legs tightly around his hips – which, in turn, presses the heat of your core against the very prominent bulge there. You both echo a groan.

“Coward,” you manage to pant, out of sheer spite if nothing else. “Stupid idiot. I clearly want you. I literally could not have been any more obvious, you’re so –“

His teeth sink into the exposed top of your breast, retracting once they puncture deep enough to get a good flow. Then, he latches firmly onto the flesh, sucking it into his mouth. The act startles a moan out of you, the venom from the initial bite already transmuting the pain into heady pleasure and sending heat through your veins, all while kicking your heart into an even faster beat. Perhaps one of the best perks of the venom is that after that first dose settles in, the only part of the process left for you to feel is pleasure.

Even while you’re unable to help the way your hips roll into his own, and unable to ignore the feral, sinful moans vibrating against your chest as he suckles the wound he made and drinks from you, you manage to continue insulting him.

“You’re so stupid, why the hell did you avoid me for two weeks huh?” A moan breaks up your complaint as he swipes his tongue in broad movements over the bite, his hips snapping into yours and pressing you further into the door. The wood creaks, but neither of you pay it any mind. You can barely function around the incredible sensation of his cock grinding against you through layers of clothing. “All you did was send mixed messages and piss me off and, ngh fuck–“

He pulls back enough that you can see the flush in his face, the feral gleam in his eyes and the smear of blood over swollen lips. His brows are furrowed, but he’s too besotted by the taste of you to have as much heat behind his glare as he did previously.

“There are some things you can’t take back,” he grits out, tongue coming to clean the red from his lips. Your heart stutters, pulse thudding in your ears. “Especially for my kind. If I didn’t stay away, I probably would have ended up doing one of those things.”

Your core positively throbs with need, clenching around nothing. The extent to which you want him right now has you more irritable than usual. “Satoru, I wouldn’t have let you drink from me if I wasn’t interested in everything else it would entail—“

“You don’t understand,” Satoru groans, freeing a hand to rip at the material of your shirt. Clawed fingertips slice through with ease, taking out the bra straps underneath as well. He makes quick work of the band beneath your chest and the underwear is then torn from your form and thrown somewhere in the background. The material of your top remains, and he yanks it down below your aching breasts, watching with rapt attention as they bounce free heavily. Barely allowing you time to moan, he lifts you higher in his arms and dives down to drag his teeth over the swollen globes. He nips and nibbles across the sensitive skin, eliciting all sorts of sounds from you and an unbearable amount of desire that shoots straight between your legs. You can feel slick arousal trickling from your aching cunt with each new miniscule bite Satoru delivers, but honestly at this point you’re too horny to be embarrassed.

“I already want everything you can give me, and more.” He bites the inside of your breast and the flesh gives easily beneath the razor-sharp point of his fangs. One of his hands comes to grip the other side of your chest while he laps and sucks at the blood welling in the wound. Your nipples are painfully hard and you feel like you could cry in relief when his long, nimble fingers begin to deliver them some much-needed attention. “I want every single part of you and I don’t want to share. This is the way I am built. I can’t do this with you again and let you go afterwards. I want you to be mine.”

You probably shouldn’t find that as romantic as you do, but aren’t really in a position to psycho-analyse your response right now. It’s not all that surprising, either, since you recall someone mentioning to you before how strongly vampires bond with their partner when they finally make their choice. As it happens, his confession serves to not only make your heart soar but your pussy throb. You’ve been pining for this man for years, so even amongst the haze of lust clouding your mind you don’t have to think about how to respond to it.

This is, after all, the solution you were hoping for two weeks ago.

“I don’t want you to let me go, or take anything back. Please bite me again, mark me up–” You pause to gasp, Satoru having shoved your skirt up to bunch around your hips. Your panties are gone a split-second later, likely discarded in the same manner as your bra, and the hand that was at your breast is now trailing your slit and gathering all the slick that has pooled there. His middle finger dips in, causing a stutter in your breath. You lean forward to whisper in his ear, snowy strands of hair tickling your cheeks as you do so. “And please, please fuck me, Satoru.”

Something snaps in him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

A feral snarl escapes him, a gravelly “fuck” the only warning you get before his teeth sink down just above your nipple, fangs retracting once blood wells to the surface, and he pulls both the wound and your stiffened peak into his mouth, sucking hard. There isn’t a single ounce of pain, only the white-hot pleasure that shoots to your clit and has you keening as a result, hands scrabbling for purchase along his broad shoulders. That free hand that was at your slit has made quick work of his pants and is now guiding his scalding member to slap against your clit, and then press against your entrance while you recover from the shock of pleasure.

You expected him to be well-endowed, and you’re not at all disappointed. Satoru’s cock is fat and long, and with one roll of his hips it spears right into you. There is no resistance, you’re far too aroused and wet for there to be any, but the feeling of being split open by such a monster quite literally knocks the breath out of you. You hardly recognise the noise that escapes you as one of your own, hands gripping the vampire’s hair and shoulder so tightly you’d be worried about hurting him if he was human. He isn’t, though, and without even noticing your grip continues drinking from you while latched to your breast, tongue pressing and rolling your aching nipple all the while.

A second is all you get to adjust to the foreign length inside you before Satoru rolls his hips back with a moan, the fat head of his cock dragging against your walls as he does so, and then slams it back in. He builds a rhythm immediately that is almost animalistic in its desperation and fervour, each thrust firm and hitting so deep inside that you honest to god think it has you seeing stars. Whines and moans tumble from your mouth, no longer able to be held back when the only thing your brain can comprehend is the sheer pleasure and ecstasy that burns and sparks along your limbs. He begins to hit a certain spot when he fucks up into your heat that has you clenching around him, slick gushing forth.

“FUCK.” He rips away from your chest to tilt his head back in a rough, stilted moan, his hands gripping and digging into the meat of your thighs where they melt into your ass. In the absence of his mouth, blood begins to dribble down the swell of your breast. His crystalline eyes are hazy and blown out in lust, brows drawn together and expression twisted in pleasure, his breath coming in pants. He is visibly barely holding it together, completely drunk on the taste and feel of you– and it simultaneously is the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “Yes, fuck, squeeze me just like that.”

You oblige, relishing in the full-body shiver that tears through him in response. He bites your name out amidst a tortured groan, hands shifting to your hips. His mouth returns to clean up the mess he left on your breast, lips latching around your nipple to suck and pull once more, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the way he suddenly begins to lift you by the hips and drop you back down on his cock in time with his thrusts. Almost. You have to bite back a scream at how fucking good it feels, the pressure and pace and just how full you feel. You can feel yourself rapidly beginning to come undone.

With the combination of his venom’s aphrodisiac effects and the sheer amount of time you’ve spent longing for this, you don’t imagine you’re going to last much longer. If the unforgiving pace of Satoru’s hips is anything to go by, you estimate the same to be the case for him.

He groans into your chest, releasing your breast to bounce in time with his thrusts, the action accompanied by an almost audible pop, and shifts his hold to free a hand. The pressure of two fingers against your clit has you crying out, body jerking at the sudden rush of pleasure – your head whips down to find him already looking at you, gaze swinging from the juncture of your thighs to your eyes. Evidently pleased by the expression he finds on your face, he continues his circling of your clit and leans his head down to trail kisses from your already-healing chest, up the column of your throat, across the line of your jaw, until he finally arrives at your lips.

“Mine,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours in a feather-light caress. His baby-blue eyes are lidded heavily and almost dazed, coherent thought lost to the throes of pleasure and his most simple instincts. He nicks your lip at the same time as he angles a particularly wonderful thrust, the head of his cock hitting against that spot that makes you see stars and release a loud, wanton cry. “You’re all mine.”

You pull back to nod rapidly, unable to form words when all you can think – all you can feel – is the throbbing pleasure of his cock splitting you open with each heavy thrust. His head follows, lips seeking your own once more. The kiss is hot, and needy, and his oversized canines scrape your bottom lip more than once, and yet all you can do is return the fervour in between moans and whines. His hand is still at work between your legs, and you feel in your bones that you’re really not going to last much longer at this rate.

Satoru releases your mouth with a final nip, and moves his head to nestle it in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He groans, low and long, and the vibration turns to a shiver as it travels over your skin. His lips begin to move.

“Say it.”

You struggle to think let alone figure out what he wants, lost in the current of your rapidly approaching orgasm. His fingers pick up speed, aided by the generous amount of arousal still gushing from your pussy in between thrusts. It takes everything you have not to scream, your hips bucking.

“Say it,” he says again, an oddly uncertain note infiltrating his rumbling gasp. He utters your name while nosing at your throat and you feel yourself melt. “Please, say it.”

Realisation as to what he is looking for hits you at the same time as your orgasm. “Fuck! I’m– I’m yours, all yours! God, fuck—“

Satoru’s pace stutters, undone by your pussy clenching and throbbing around him in a fight to keep him inside, and it takes him a moment to recover before he begins to fuck into you again in earnest, movements growing sloppy and frantic but no less punishing. It all serves to prolong the wave of absolute bliss you’re riding in the wake of what has to be the strongest orgasm of your life. Those vampiric toxins are no joke.

You wind your arms around his neck, clutching him close and trying not to lose your mind as he fucks up into you, the drag of his cock against your walls somehow even more delicious than before. He mouths at your neck, hips beginning to stutter once more. You clench around him, and he breaks. There is barely enough time for a curse to escape his mouth before its clamping on your neck, teeth digging in deep— deeper than he’s ever bitten you before— and tingling heat spreading out from the puncture sites. He gives one, two, three final, dragging thrusts, body trembling and muscles taut, before his cock throbs and he buries it inside you, spilling into you with a deep, rumbling groan against your throat.

Soft, panting moans escape you as his hips continue to roll into you softly, riding out his orgasm, and you bite back a wanton groan as you feel his cum beginning to trickle out around his softening member. As soon as he comes back to his senses to a degree, he has the presence of mind to navigate the two of you to the bed before he loses strength in his legs, his mouth slipping from your neck after he laves his tongue over the wound to seal it. Unceremoniously, he drops the two of you against the mattress, but surprisingly keeps you snugly in his hold and his length still buried inside you. Ignoring how hot that is, you decide to view the action from a purely romantic light and nearly melt into the mattress.

Vaguely, you register the thumping club beats still booming beyond the confines of the room. Evidently the party was still ongoing.

“This wasn’t how I planned for today to go,” he admits, after a few beats of contented silence. He nuzzles his face to your chest, dragging his nose across your collarbone. “I was going to talk to you tomorrow morning.”

You snort; that’s likely.

“… This is how I planned for today to go, though.”

He huffs a laugh before pressing his lips together, clearly trying not to enable you further. He allows for another few moments to pass, and in that time you let your own eyes flutter closed.

“You can’t change your mind, by the way,” he says suddenly, tone odd. You open your eyes and turn to see his crystalline gaze directed to your neck, where the latest of his bite marks sits proudly. “I may have done one of those things I can’t take back.”

You’re not sure how to tell him it’s not as bad of a thing as he thinks it to be.

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 lmk what you think!

[cailinsblog]

Yours to keep: A Jersey of the Heart- Quinn hughes

Quinn hughes x reader

Masterlist

Warnings; Mild Jealousy:

Otherwise, the story is sweet, light-hearted, and focused on romance.

The air in the Rogers Arena buzzed with anticipation as the New Jersey Devils faced off against the Vancouver Canucks. The crowd was a sea of blue and green, but Y/N stood out in her black and red Devils jersey. The name "Hughes" was stitched proudly across the back—but it wasn’t Quinn’s. Instead, it was his brother, Jack’s, and Quinn couldn’t take his eyes off it.

Sitting in the box with a few other friends, Y/N had no idea that Jack's request had caused such a storm inside Quinn. Jack had asked her, as a joke—or maybe not—to wear his jersey to the game. Quinn knew Jack had always been a little cheeky, especially when it came to teasing his older brother, but this? This was too far.

Quinn had always known he had feelings for Y/N. She was his best friend, but she was more than that. They’d grown up together, shared so many memories, and no one made him feel as alive as she did. But neither of them had ever crossed that line, both too scared of what might happen to their friendship.

Jack, of course, had figured it out months ago. The younger Hughes brother was always one step ahead when it came to reading people, and lately, Jack had been pushing Quinn to confess his feelings. But Quinn wasn’t ready—or at least, he thought he wasn’t. Until tonight.

Seeing Y/N in Jack’s jersey ignited something inside him. He was suddenly filled with jealousy that he couldn’t shake. His brother knew how much Y/N meant to him, and yet Jack had asked her to wear his number. It was driving Quinn crazy.

The buzzer sounded, signaling the break between the first and second periods. Quinn skated off the ice, his mind not on the game but on Y/N, on how much he wanted her to be wearing his name, not Jack’s. He couldn’t wait any longer.

As soon as he got into the locker room, Quinn grabbed his phone and texted Y/N.

Quinn: "Come down to the locker room. Now."

Y/N felt her phone buzz and saw the message. A little confused, she glanced around at the other fans, then at Jack on the ice. Maybe Quinn needed something? Without thinking much of it, she made her way down to where the Canucks’ locker room was located.

As soon as Y/N entered the hallway, Quinn was waiting, still in half of his gear, breathing a little faster than usual—not from exertion, but from nerves.

“Hey, everything okay?” Y/N asked, tilting her head in concern.

Quinn didn’t say anything at first. He just stared at the jersey she was wearing, Jack’s jersey, and the jealousy flared up again. Without a word, he reached out and tugged her into the locker room, the door shutting behind them.

“Quinn, what are you—” Y/N started, but Quinn had already moved to his stall and grabbed an extra Canucks jersey with his number on it.

“Here,” he said, handing it to her. “Put this on.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, looking between the jersey in his hand and his serious expression. “What? Why?”

“Because I can’t stand seeing you in Jack’s jersey,” Quinn muttered, his eyes softening as he finally confessed what had been eating away at him all night. “You should be wearing mine.”

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. She looked down at the jersey she was wearing, and suddenly, it all made sense. Quinn wasn’t just upset that she was wearing Jack’s jersey; this was about something more. Something that had been brewing between them for years.

“Quinn…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “Are you jealous?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah. I am. I’ve been jealous for a while now, but seeing you in Jack’s jersey tonight…” He paused, then sighed, meeting her eyes again, vulnerability shining in his. “I like you, Y/N. A lot. And it’s been driving me crazy because I didn’t know if you felt the same. But I can’t just sit back anymore and watch.”

Y/N's heart raced, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as relief and warmth washed over her. “Quinn, I like you too. I always have. I was just scared to ruin what we have.”

Quinn took a step closer, his voice low and sincere. “You won’t ruin anything. I promise.”

He reached out, gently taking Jack’s jersey off her shoulders and tossing it somewhere in the corner of the locker room. Then, with a small, hopeful smile, he held out his own Canucks jersey.

“Wear mine,” he said softly.

Y/N’s heart fluttered as she took the jersey from him, slipping it on. It was a little big on her, but it felt right—like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

“There,” Quinn said, his smile growing. “Now you look perfect.”

Y/N couldn’t help but grin. “I always thought I looked perfect,” she teased, and Quinn chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah, you did,” he admitted, taking a step closer, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. “But now you look even better.”

Before she could say anything else, Quinn leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a soft, tender kiss. It was everything Y/N had ever imagined and more. The kiss was sweet, a culmination of all the years of friendship and unspoken feelings.

When they finally pulled back, Quinn rested his forehead against hers, both of them smiling.

“I guess Jack’s going to kill me for stealing you away,” Quinn joked, though he didn’t sound too concerned.

Y/N laughed, her arms wrapping around his neck. “Jack will survive. Besides, I think he knew this was going to happen before we did.”

Quinn smiled, pulling her into another kiss, this one deeper, filled with all the emotions they had held back for so long. In that moment, it was just the two of them, the noise of the arena fading into the background.

From then on, Y/N was proudly wearing Quinn's name, not just on her back, but in her heart. And that was exactly how it was always meant to be

Please do send in request and reblog

[haveagarbageday]

Defeated \\ Charles Leclerc, Oscar Piastri, Jenson Button

summary: Charles and Oscar both fall in love with you, and they do their best to impress you. But you're not interested, and eventually they find out why.

additional info: Mercedes!driver!reader. Jenson won the vote, so here we are. No happy ending for Charles and Oscar. Anyway, I'm like a dog with a bone, I'm not letting that Webber idea go. So expect a story where Oscar loves reader, but he finds out she's with Mark.

warnings: age gap

After the whole adoption joke, the friendship of Charles and Oscar reached a new stage. Sure, they had been friends before, but this shifted the dynamic in the direction of something better, something based on mutual respect. They helped each other, they kept in touch outside race weekends too–to the point Oscar was often invited to family dinners since everyone took that joke far too seriously–and everything was great in general.

That’s until the beginning of the 2025 season. Mercedes announced your arrival the year before, but you were just another rookie, someone they didn’t know that well. But then you scored some precious points on your first race, and you kept up this exceptional performance, eventually challenging your teammate for higher positions. This caught their interest, although they weren’t alone. Many drivers looked at your twenty-two years old self as a little sister, someone they wanted to protect from the sport’s toxic environment.

But these two didn’t see you as a sister, far from that. They had a soft spot for you after getting to know you better, and without ever discussing it, they both started to flirt with you in their own ways. Oscar decided to befriend you first, giving himself the chance to talk to you even when you weren’t in the paddock together, he invited you to hang out with him, and he always made sure to sneak a few sentences that hinted at his intention into your conversations. Charles was more straightforward with his compliments, whether it was related to your driving or the way you looked that day, and he even brought you small gifts, always saying he just happened to think of you when he saw them.

They both noticed what the other was doing, which led to a cold war between the two of them, slowly poisoning their relationship, although they didn’t let it show. They kept talking on the race weekends, they didn’t unfollow each other on social media, but the tone of their conversations became a lot colder. But one day they decided to talk about this, and even though neither of them said it out loud that this was the reason for their meeting, deep down they both knew they had to discuss what they should do.

As they were sitting in the secluded corner of a café back home in Monaco, just a day before they were supposed to head to their next race weekend, Oscar let out a long sigh and took a sip of his coffee and looked over at the door when someone walked in. He wanted to figure out how to bring you up, how to shift the conversation about the upcoming race to you, about the situation they found themselves in.

But Charles seemed to be a step ahead of him, because he cleared his throat to get his attention, then went, “You like her, don’t you?”

The Aussie nodded, a small smile unintentionally creeping on his face at the thought of you. “I believe you feel the same,” he said after a short break.

“What’s not to like?” the fellow driver asked, and the younger man across from him nodded once again in agreement, muttering true under his breath. Charles unexpectedly let out a troubled sigh and leaned back in his chair, a hand now resting on the back of his neck. “I don’t know about you, but she keeps me at arm’s length. It’s like I’ve been friend zoned.”

Oscar’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You too? I thought she was acting like this because she chose you,” he admitted.

His friend watched him with narrowed eyes, his brain in overdrive as he thought about the possible reasons. Did you have someone? Were you focusing on your job instead of looking for a relationship? It must be the latter, after all you had once told him you wanted to survive your first year without any kind of drama. You also said you were using Oscar as a reference point, because he managed to exist in this world with his private life mostly kept private.

“I wouldn’t be here if she chose me. I would spend every free moment with her, but she’s just not interested. What do we do now? I don’t want to forget her, I don’t know if I could,” he said.

The McLaren driver licked his lips and looked down at the cup in front of him. “Me neither. But what if we have no choice? We can’t force her to choose between us,” he began, stopping for a moment while he thought. “What if our attempts are futile and she wouldn’t pick either of us in the end? Maybe it’s time to admit we have no chance.”

Charles let out a laugh as he shook his head. “You can give up if you want, but I’ll keep trying.”

Despite their little competition being perfectly fine until now, Oscar felt the need to set some rules, just so their chances were even. He suggested the other man to tone it down a bit, to stop trying to buy your love with gifts, because those meant a lot to you, you had told him that yourself before. It’s not that he wasn’t ready to shower you with things your heart desired, he just didn’t think it was fair to manipulate you like this. But the Monegasque only laughed at this and said maybe it wasn't him who had to tone it down, maybe it was Oscar who had to step up his game.

Either way, you still didn’t show any interest in them, not romantically at least.

On one race weekend Jenson Button showed up, being there for Williams, but spending some time with Sky Sports too, doing interviews with a few of the drivers. Oscar was waiting for his turn not far from them, watching as you answered the questions with that big smile on your face, and he couldn’t help but smile himself, because it made him fall in love with you again.

Then he heard Jenson go, “I heard you felt a little sick this morning. Do you think it could affect your weekend?”

Your eyes widened, clearly surprised by the question, but it only lasted for a second, because you were quick to respond as calmly as you could. “I’m fine, maybe it’s just some dehydration, I’ll drink more, and I’ll be good as new,” you said with a small smile forced on your face.

After a few more questions it was a wrap for you, and you began to walk away, but Jenson excused himself and went after you, probably to apologize for bringing up your health problem when you hadn’t talked about it yet. As you said, it wasn’t serious, maybe there was no reason to mention it. Now, Oscar didn’t want to eavesdrop, he usually respected other people’s privacy, but neither of you noticed he was nearby, and you began to talk in a normal voice that made it impossible for him not to hear it without walking away.

“What the fuck was that? We agreed, everything that happens behind closed doors stays there,” you hissed angrily.

The Aussie had his suspicions, but maybe he was wrong, maybe it was just his imagination running wild. But when Jenson let out a sigh and raised his hands in defense, he knew his first instinct was right. “I thought we agreed that you would go to the medical center to figure out what this is. You said you didn’t, what was I supposed to do?” he asked.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “So what, pressuring me on air was the best you could come up with? I’m fine, I already told you, let’s just drop this.”

Jenson took a step closer to you, his hand slowly reaching out to touch you, but he changed his mind last minute. “All right, you’re right, it wasn’t fair. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you tonight. How does that sound?” You watched him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Good, we’ll discuss the details later. Be a good girl until then.”

After you waved him goodbye and left, he returned to his place in front of the camera, and Oscar was finally told it was his turn. But after seeing this? There was no way he could keep his cool while talking to him, or at least it would take a lot more effort than usual. Now he knew why you weren’t interested in either him nor Charles, and this broke his heart. From all the people around them, you seriously had to pick someone so much older than you? Someone you couldn’t openly date?

In the afternoon, he sent a text to Charles, asking for an emergency meeting in the evening, and so now the two of them were sitting in his hotel room with a bottle of booze and two glasses in front of them. Oscar told his friend everything he had heard and seen that day, and they both became absolutely depressed, hitting the rock bottom by the end of the story. They tried to figure out what to do now, but they agreed that exposing your relationship would have been a terrible move, and they didn’t even feel like intervening.

“Do you think she loves him?” Charles asked with a sigh as he looked up at the ceiling.

Oscar shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, she was smiling so brightly, especially when she was talking to him. And Jenson brought up her sickness because he was worried about her, so maybe it’s a mutual feeling.”

Silence fell between them as it became obvious that they had no chance, not before either you or Jenson got bored of the other and broke up. Once they emptied the bottle, Charles stood up and said goodnight, deciding to go back to his own hotel room to get some proper sleep so he could focus the next day. “My heart is already broken, I don’t want my car to be broken too,” he told Oscar before leaving. It was painful, yes, but maybe they would have a chance to fight for you. Maybe one day you would realize that being in a relationship you could openly talk about was much better.

[empty-fantasies]

Lament

In which Capitano realizes that he is simply a fool in love

Character(s) Included: Capitano

Knight AU, Knight!Capitano and Royal!Reader, slight fluff to angst, possible one-sided love/unrequited love, hurt and only slight comfort (if you squint really closely)

Regal, elegant, refined. It is almost comical to the knight who has witnessed all your clumsy moments behind closed doors.

Gone were the times of youthful adventures and endless mischief. From sneaking into the nearby village and avoiding supplementary lessons to facing the reprimanding of exasperated tutors, Capitano and you were inseparable since the day the king assigned the former as your personal guard.

To be honest, it was quite the feat to have Capitano even entertaining the idea of skirting duties. A young boy then, temptation was easier when you spun a tale of needing to run errands and that it was more training to prepare him for the many dangers you’ll both face in your later years. Yes, that’s how it would always go. You, with a cunning tongue, taking advantage of that growing need to uphold justice and to become the epitome of a true knight was a rather common sight then. Something that also turned into a small prickly thorn as Capitano and you matured. And, the only memories in which Capitano knew more than to be disciplined and how to simply be nothing more than a young boy indulging in childish curiosities.

Fleeting days of joy have ended for both you and Capitano have grown into your respective roles upon coming of age. A poised royal diligent in their studies, committing to their promise for prosperity and wielding their intellect for sake of security. And Capitano, an honorable and just man who became your most trusted knight—unyielding against the daring few who swore to harm the crown and the astute voice you needed when guidance of others was nothing more than false reverence. That is what you and Capitano were. A royal and a knight—bound by the strings of fate and duty to your roles.

Still, Capitano was but a man. And a man he was, coming to the realization that his heart too can yearn for another.

It’s in the way that the feather quill swiftly glides across the parchment in front of you that day. Jet black ink sealing away your future that had long been decided before either of you could comprehend it as a possibility. For duty and for honor, he would have said in moments of doubt and hesitation. It is but a necessary move to protect all those that you cherish ever so much.

And yet, it’s the almost inaudible sigh that has him second guessing himself. Then again, perhaps it is no longer impossible to pretend that he isn’t a fool for believing that fate would give him one small chance. How could he do such a thing when his throat was constricting? Every objection to this arrangement died like a candle reaching the end of its wick. Every letter received and sent was another dagger to his armored heart. Fury, frustration, guilt; a well of emotions dragged him down to the depths below.

The fateful day eventually reared its ugly head around the corner. All preparations were finished ahead of time and it was Capitano who was selected to escort you to be received by the neighboring kingdom so that the ceremony can finally commence. It made perfect sense for why Capitano was chosen. Having been there through thick and thin, growing into the fine knight that he is as you an empathetic and respected ruler, encouraging you that what you are doing is only right despite his clenched fists. Constantly reassuring you that you are more than prepared even though he was not ready to accept a cruel reality.

It made perfect sense. To everyone but Capitano as he stood at the gate, silently toying with the idea of asking you to run away with him. With each step forward, the regret became more suffocating. So much so that all Capitano could focus on was the increasing distance between you and him. Armor too heavy, throat too parched, mind far too distracted. How long would he have to endure this?

“This is Capitano. Knight Commander and my most trusted guard,” your voiced echoed.

Capitano remained silent, regarding the soon-to-be-king with respect that was expected of him. The man was loyal through and through to the sword wedged in his heart he so readily handed over and all he could do was peer up at the wielder at the end—you—who he swore to when he bent the knee that fateful day.

He could only nod in the end, bowing his head and biting his tongue to save the remnants of his heart. He was but a sword at the end of the day. Hardened and shaped to cast aside what distracts him. Merely a knight commander who so happened to have grown up alongside you and has been the shoulder you weeped on in times of need. An extension of the crown and soon-to-be the other man who would stand by your side once the marriage takes place. It was selfish of him to think that he’d escape his role so easily with just a few words. He knew it from the day he walked into that long corridor alongside the former commander, all but naive to the image he had to uphold. He was a knight commander. A swordsman who so happened to have the right tact to earn his spot and acknowledgement from the crown.

Nothing more, nothing less.

[amakumos]

MEET ME IN MONTE CARLO. — jake sim. (teaser)

SYNOPSIS. As a Formula 1 driver, being competitive is just in Ferrari driver Jake Sim's blood. Perhaps Jake cares about winning too much though, because during his conquest for the world title, he loses you. It isn't until 2 years later when you show up at the Monaco Grand Prix with his main rival, Red Bull driver Park Sunghoon, when Jake finds himself determined to not only fight for the championship, but also to fight for you.

GENRE. fluff, angst, exes to enemies (one-sided ish) to lovers

PAIRING. formula 1 driver! jake x fem! reader

WARNINGS. none in the teaser. in the fic, cursing, mentions of car crashes and accidents

ESTIMATED RELEASE DATE. late march, early april

WORD COUNT. 20k ish, teaser is 883 words

AUTHOR'S NOTE. well... this will be my second to last fic for the meantime! i'm excited to drop this one. i've been working on it for quite a while now. here's a formula 1 fic starring our very own jake sim :) i hope you enjoy this little teaser, and the taglist is open so just pop in an ask if you'd like to be tagged when i post this <3

TAGLIST IS OPEN, send in an ask if you’d like to be added!

You were the first person that Jake Sim ever loved. You were there at his first Formula 1 race, you were there at his first race win, and you were there for his first world title win. A series of firsts. 

But, Jake Sim has first breakup on the list as well. 

He always regrets how things ended between you two – it was messy, it was awful, and it left him crying at 3 in the morning in his apartment. 

Jake isn’t certain about many things in his life. But what Jake is 100% certain of, is that the breakup was all his fault.

You had screamed at him, and he knew that he deserved it. You were slowly slipping away from his grasp, and Jake allowed that to happen as he chased another world title so desperately. So desperately to the point that he would end up neglecting you. 

Forgotten dates, forgotten anniversaries, and forgotten birthdays. Text messages would be left unread for days when he was in some other unfamiliar city, as you walked to your lectures with a heavy heart and the stream of his race playing in the back of your phone as you waited for a response. You wore red every time he had a race, for Ferrari, for him, even as your relationship was crumbling. 

“I’m sorry,” he had choked out. “It is difficult.” 

You looked at him with bloodshot eyes and shaking fists. “It is. And you’re chasing your dreams, but… I can’t be with you if it’s like this. The past few months have been like we weren’t even dating in the first place.” 

Jake gulps. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

“I want to try,” you had said with an exasperated sigh, and Jake knows that you’re tired. He’s going at maximum speed, and you’re left trailing behind him. He’s so far ahead, and you know you’ve lost all hope of catching up. But you say those words anyway. “Please tell me you’ll try.” 

Jake doesn’t say a word. Because he knows that he won’t be able to. He wants to say yes, so badly. He wants to hug you, he wants to kiss you, and he wants to commit. Just as he commits to his races, to the championship, to Ferrari. 

But he can’t. Not a single word leaves his lips, and his silence is enough of an answer for you. “Oh,” you say, and Jake doesn’t miss the way your voice quivers, and your lower lip trembles. You’re dressed in red, Ferrari’s colour – his colour. “Okay.” 

“I’m sorry.” he told you. 

“It’s important to you.” you pressed your lips together in a thin line. “I understand.”

You say that, but Jake knows that you don’t. He knows nobody would ever be able to understand choosing to win over choosing someone you love. But Jake is committed to racing. He is committed to win. 

Yet, he’s not committed to you. The one who’s been with him through thick and thin, the one who’d catch red-eye flights to find him in some unfamiliar city to watch him win, the one who’d go through hell and back for him if it meant that he’d be happy. 

He can’t do the same for you, and he hates that. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, and you simply shook your head. You don’t have anything more to say to him, so you quietly pack your things. “I’m sorry.” 

Before you opened the door to leave, you took one last look at Jake. “I hope you figure out whatever’s going on in your life.” You don’t say anything more, and that is the last time Jake Sim ever sees you again. 

He doesn’t know what you’re doing either, because you’d deleted your Instagram account, starting a new one where none of his fans could keep up to date with you. The only way he knows how you’re doing is updates from Heeseung's girlfriend Yoona, who goes on trips with you often. He sees his fans constantly wondering if you’re doing well, and Jake finds it funny how he’s got the same exact question.

He drowns himself further in training, in racing, in wanting to become the best after the split. He wins, he wins, and he wins again – and that feeling of euphoria when he stands on the podium never leaves. It fills him with a joy like no other, and it reminds Jake why he does this. He wants to win. He wants to be the best – no, he is the best. 

Winning means the world to Jake Sim. Racing is in his blood – he does it to hear the crowds scream his name, he does it to lift that trophy on the top step of the podium, and he does it to feel the overwhelming pride in his chest when he crosses that chequered flag first. 

But he’s been so focused on winning, and he’s lost his everything. 

His everything is the girl who went to his first race. His everything is the girl who would tire herself by studying during the day, and catching long flights to the cities where he’d race in to support him. 

And his everything had left him 2 years ago in his apartment in Monte Carlo, Monaco, with teary eyes and a red dress. 

[asrielinfected]

1,2,3 Action!

Paring: Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: Your an actor playing in a movie(Miller’s Girl). You’re really proud that you were able to get a role in the movie. But there is a con to that. Jenna Marie Ortega.

Warning: Profanity, Jealousy & Toxic behavior

Authors Note: This is like rivals to lovers, type of relationship between Reader and Jenna..I have no idea if I worded that right.

“This cannot possibly be happening to me right now,” You say to yourself as you saw the email on your phone, announcing who you would be working with.

After weeks of waiting, you finally landed yourself a role in an upcoming movie called, “Miller’s Girl.”

You’ve been acting ever since you were a kid so playing in a show or a movie was no big deal for you. There was just one thing getting in your way, well person.

Jenna Ortega.

Ever since your first acting job on “Stuck in the Middle”, you’ve been jealous of her. Even though you were a side character in the show you envied her so much.

You just couldn’t let go of that feeling. She was perfect in your eyes, and that pissed you off as a kid. Even as an adult it still does.

But hell, she probably doesn’t even remember you.

So now learning that you’re going to be working together again is very hard to comprehend. You already booked your flight to where the movie was being filmed. Which your flight is in a couple weeks, and it is way too late to turn this job down.

You get off your bed and go to the bathroom to get your day started. You took a deep breath in and exhaled.

“It’s alright, Y/N. It’s been years who even cares about it anymore!?” You said out loud, as you grabbed your toothpaste and toothbrush. That was mostly you trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t a big deal to you.

“I mean it’s not like I spent my first acting job as a kid obsessing over her.”

As you kept on talking assuring yourself, It was pretty obvious to see that you were absolutely in denial.

Eventually you stopped brushing your teeth and overthinking.

There’s going to be cons and pros of being an actor. I mean after all you did choose this job.

You shouldn’t be stressing over someone who doesn’t even remember you, but yet you still did. You went ahead and carried on with the rest of your day like usual.

Some weeks pass by, quickly, and unfortunately for you, your flight is tomorrow.

Your things are packed, and your set to go to sleep. You can’t really describe how you feel right at the moment, but you knew you had to get over it, and just do your job.

Currently all you know about the role you’re playing is that you’re supposedly friends with a character named, “Winnie Black”. You have no complaints about it since it was played by your coworker you haven’t met before.

Hopefully you can get along with all the people you’re working with. Expect one. You wouldn’t bother trying to befriend her.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The day of your flight, you were already driving to the airport. If it wasn’t for your alarm you most definitely would’ve still been sleeping. Luckily the airport wasn’t so far from your home, so you were able to get there early with many spare time.

So of course you get some food and some souvenirs. Good thing that you’re not that popular as other actors you’ve seen. While you got done collecting you waited for your flight. Although you got to the airport early, it wasn’t long until it came.

It was about an 6 hour plane ride to where the movie was going to be filmed. After the 6 hours plane the plane landed. You ordered and Uber to take you to your hotel you’ll be staying at before you do anything else.

When you got to your hotel you contacted your manager before heading out again.

when arriving to the building, where the movie was going to take place. You weren’t the first of the cast members to get there but certainly not the last one too.

You could already see Jenna socializing along side with your other coworker, Gideon Adlon(Whinnie Black). Jenna looked way different from the last time you saw her in person

The older actors, Bashir Salahuddin(Coach Fillmore), Martin Freeman(Jonathan miller), Dagmara Dominczyk(Beatrice Miller), were also talking, which was expected.

Before going up to any of the cast you met up with Jade Barret,(the writer and director of millers girl) and then the producers.

After you met with them you saw Jenna and Gideon walking up to you. You saw the slight smile on Jenna’s face while she came up to you, and thought she was absolutely trying to get on your nerves.

“Hi, It’s nice to finally meet you! You must be Y/N, right?” Jenna spoke. Her voice sounded entirely different. Predictable, considering she was 12 when you first met with her in person.

“Yep. Also, save your introduction. I already know who you are,” You said so straight forwardly. That may had came out in a rude manner, but you weren’t so worried about that.

There was some awkward silence between you two before your coworker, Gideon spoke up.

“Well I’m pretty sure you don’t know me. I’m Gideon.”

“Nice to meet you, Gideon. Also sorry, I gotta cut this conversation short, because I have to call someone I’ll be right back.”

What a lie. You knew you didn’t have to call someone. So you stood outside the room pretending to call a person just so you can get away from them.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Meanwhile with Jenna and Gideon, Jenna was still in quite an interesting state after you talked to her like that.

“I didn’t say or do anything wrong to her. Well at least I think I didn’t? I just don’t understand why she talked to me in that way.”

“Dont overthink it, Jen. She’s probably having a bad day or not in the mood. After all most of us are tired.”

Jenna couldn’t shake off the feeling that you had something against her, but for the sake of her peace, she let it go.

You came back into the room and when you did you were all given a script of lines you should memorize before they start shooting.

So, you playing as Whinnie Black’s best friend obviously means you have to communicate with her. So you and her went on set, and did your parts.

Of course the both of you did amazing, so Jade barret concluded that to you two. When she did slight smile appeared on your face, a little bit proud of yourself.

That smile immediately went away when you heard Jenna call your name.

“Y/N you did great,” The Ortega said only trying to ease the tension between you both.

Seeing her trying to befriend you, ticked you off.

“Why can’t you just leave me the hell alone.” You didn’t say that out loud, but you definitely wish you did.

“I’m aware. I didn’t really need your input.” You avoided eye contact with her as you headed off the set.

Okay, perhaps you were being an asshole. You definitely had the right to be annoyed at her, but in the end, she didn’t do anything to you. It’s only a matter of time until you notice.

Okay so Jenna now knew that you absolutely had a problem with her, and made it quite obvious to notice.

Besides Jenna Ortega, Gideon was the only one who heard you. As any friend would do in this situation, she came up to her.

“So maybe she isn’t having a bad day, and really is just an asshole.”

Jenna sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head for a second.

“I’m not really focused on what beef she has with me, G. I’m just worried this might affect work. As long as we get this movie done with no problems I’m fine with whatever.”

Gideon wasn’t entirely sure if Jenna was lying just to not seem hurt by your words, but in the end she was right. You guys didn’t come here to build friendships.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Moments later the rest of the cast got done practicing their lines. You guys still weren’t able to leave yet, because the director is still discussing things. You werent paying attention. You were about to fall asleep while leaning against a wall.

Jenna was sitting on a chair intently listening to the director, but in the corner of her eye she saw you struggling to keep your eyes open. She knew that she shouldn’t be fixating on you, but her curiosity took over her. Her full attention turned around to you, and by the looks of it, you were completely out of it.

You were on the edge of falling into a slumber, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched by someone. And it turns out your feelings were correct. It didn’t take long to spot the person looking at you, and of course it had to be Jenna.

So when you fixed your posture and looked directly at her she turned her head around quickly.

“I saw you staring. You have a mouth for a reason. Go ahead and use it.” You leaned off the wall and walked towards to Jenna.

Jenna Ortega stood up from her chair, and looked up at you. You and Jenna’s eyes never left each other

“I’m sorry, but is there some type of explanation why you’re acting like this towards me or are you just a complete dick for no reason at all.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes a little at the Ortega’s words.

“I don’t know what you’re talking ab—” Jenna spent no time to cut you off.

“Bullshit. Sorry, but this is my first impression of you, and I’m not really worried if you like me or not. If this is going to be a problem while filming then spit it out already.” She said, as your coworkers attention left the director and went straight to you both. Since you guys were talking quite loudly.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you. You just have to face the fact that some people in your career are going to dislike you. And I so happen to be one of those people. I think this conversation is done here.”

You left the room once again, and took a quick breather, while sitting on the floor outside the room. You left Jenna and everyone else in the room in shock and confusion.

You certainly do wish you never had said that. You made a big deal out of nothing, but hey. Anyone else would do the same thing if they were in your shoes, right?

Instead of procrastinating you looked at the time on your phone. It was close to being midnight. You decided it would be a good idea to go back to your hotel and rest. And that’s exactly what you did.

You grabbed your things and went to the parking lot. The sun was already setting down and you just want to get back to your hotel before it turns dark. When you got in your car you wasted no time to drive off.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

After minutes of countless driving you reached where you would be staying at. You checked into your room, and didn’t even bother to change. You flopped onto your bed with your things on the floor.

You groaned into your pillow as your eyelids were already heavy, and you soon fell asleep seconds later. Little did you know, tomorrow you would be facing a lot of backlash for what happened between you and Jenna. But that’s a concern for later. Right now all you need is a goodnight rest.

[celestie0]

hi friends, i won’t be posting or updating any of my works for an indefinite period n will be on hiatus from this blog as well.

i’ve unlisted kickoff & ihm on ao3 (haven’t deleted, they’ve just been made private) and i’ve unpinned my masterlist here on tumblr (again nothing’s been deleted so you could probably find the chapters if you searched my tags)

but the reason i did that is because i don’t want any new readers finding my works during my hiatus because i don’t want to potentially upset more people in the event that, during this hiatus, i decide that i would no longer like to write my fics

that would be an insanely sad decision to make. i put so much thought into my stories not because i am trying to make them entertaining, but it’s because they genuinely mean so much to me and are cathartic in ways i can’t describe. i have spent a great majority of my life self negating for the sake of others, and so writing was just a form of expression where i could talk about all the things i’ve suppressed over the years - anxiety, career stress, financial stress, avoidance, depression, loss, coming of age, navigating love, etc

but lately, and i do think it’s been a build up of just some careless words from a handful of people over the months, i find myself steering towards a practice of writing that is no longer asking the question “how can i put as much of myself in this piece as possible?” but rather “how can i make sure people won’t criticize this…i feel awful that it doesn’t have what they want it to have…other creators are doing xyz, should i be doing that too?…i’m just scared to share this”

not exactly sure when that shift in headspace began, but as of right now, it’s as strong as ever. and i understand that those questions may seem irrational, and i just have to try to not focus on the feeling, n i wish i was someone that could compartmentalize those thoughts better, but here’s the thing — the whole reason i started expressing myself through writing in the first place was because i’ve spent my whole life compartmentalizing. it would feel so ironic & untrue to the lessons i’ve learned in this journey if i just chose to “suck this up” and continue pushing forward until i reach a point of burnout simply because i don’t want to upset anyone

i’m really sorry i couldn’t focus on the positive. especially with all the insane n incredible amount of love n support i’ve received for my works. i’ve said this time n time again but when i started posting kickoff to ao3 back in january of this year, i had NO idea it would be this loved by so many people…i was like ok can’t wait to interact w these four readers for the rest of the year…and then BAM, i find myself fully sobbing after each chapter update because i was so touched by all the sweet n kind words. i don’t want this decision to come off in a way that makes it seems like i don’t love u guys sm or that i’m ungrateful — i’ve always taken pride in respecting my audience. even for a simple hobby, i try to put effort into my works. i proofread, i plan out, i edit in length, all because i am, well, for one, i’m a bit of a perfectionist LOL but also i think there’s a great deal of honor in respecting an audience that gives you their time n attention

but i already am struggling in my life to focus on the positive. medicine has been such an incredibly daunting career to pursue, i’m honestly only doing slightly better now because i’m just filled with relief that i got into med school to begin with lol it’s still surreal to me, so the stress has been kinda manageable so far on that sense of optimism, but dear god the shit i went through to get here…and the shit i know i still face ahead of me. i spend all of my serotonin on trying to stay positive in the face of my responsibilities. so all of this time i’ve spent trying to stay positive for the sake of my stories too has just left me with so much exhaustion — i just don’t see why posting my works should be anything less than fun and endlessly exciting when it’s a hobby that’s supposed to help me thru the actual brunt of life.

anyways, i’m getting a little carried away here. all this to say, i just need to take time away from posting my works so i can see writing as something for myself n not for others again. i don’t want the thoughts swimming in my head to be thoughts of anxiety over people potentially criticizing me n my creative decisions. i want the thoughts in my head to once again be positive, excited, and nurturing towards my stories. i don’t see how i can accomplish that at this point unless i start writing for myself once more, and not for others

i still have a great deal of passion to write, which is why i haven’t formally taken down my works. i anticipate that i may be able to come back in the future to share my writing again. but as of right now, i just want to heal the relationship that i have with this hobby, and i feel like that’s gotta happen in private (lmfao it sounds like im tryna freak my writing)

i’m sorry that i turned off my asks n my replies, i know so many of u care about me n want to support me n i just am beyond thankful. i don’t anticipate this is a forever goodbye, but i do just need some time rn away from all of this.

hope u all have a happy time!! and take care of yourselves :) much love

- ellie

[amywritesthings]

seven days. | part one.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: armin arlert x gn!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.9k Summary: Armin gets bamboozled into joining the annual Yeager family beach vacation — and accidentally meets you.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), beach house, summer vacation, eventual romance, alcohol, partying, Armin deserves a romcom, Eren & Zeke have zero braincells Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part two. | masterlist

“Zeke, you Point Break bitch, did you steal my boogie board?!”

Ah, yes. 

If he was looking for a week of tranquility and peace, then Armin Arlert should have declined the invitation to join the Yeager family for their annual summer vacation.

Time and time again, Eren has begged his best friend to tag along.

As far as he's aware, this has been a family tradition ever since his best friend was a toddler.

One week, the same week, every single year.

Not to mention it's the same beach house merely two blocks away from the boardwalk and sandy shores.

Home away from home.

It’ll be amazing!

(Eren likes to claim.) 

There is so much sick shit we can do!

(His words, not Armin’s.)

You’re gonna sit on your ass and read anyway, so why not do it by a beach?

(...okay, maybe that sold him.)

Then again, nothing is more humbling than standing with your duffle bag in one hand, filled to the brim with ‘maybe’ shirts and ‘just in case’ medicines, and your pillow in another while the Yeager family chaotically dissolves into a panicked army of four battling to even get to said beach in one piece.

Chaos.

It’s their collective middle name.

“Armin, sweetie, do you want any snacks for the road?”

Carla Yeager — doting mother figure and matriarch of the family.

She’s the reason they’re taking two cars this year, too afraid she may forget something important at home.

From fresh tangerines to a plethora of board games, she’s thought of it all.

Shuffling his bag to give his hands some equal soreness — ouch, that's freaking heavy — Armin offers an apologetic smile.

“No, Mrs. Yeager, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“How many times do I need to tell you to call me Carla?” 

Every time, actually.

Although Zeke very easily calls his stepmother by her first name, Armin can't bring himself to do it.

Blah, blah, raised a certain way by his ever-traditional grandfather, blah.

The awkward blonde merely nods once and watches as Carla shuffles by to throw another box of napkins into the trunk.

“Here,” she gestures, waving her arms while she’s in front of the hatchback, “that looks bulky.” 

It is, but he’s a kindred spirit in the name of overpacking.

“I can find a spot for it,” he promises, but relents when the woman gives him that mom look that straightens out her son and stepson. “I— Thank you, Mrs. — Carla.”

Close enough.

He hands her his duffle bag, careful to spot the bottom of it in a sneaky attempt to help her ease his luggage into the first car.

Boom.

The front door bursts open to reveal Zeke and Eren, shoulder to shoulder, frantically fighting to see who can walk out first.

Grunting, Zeke tries to push ahead with his neon-green boogie board against his torso, but Eren manages to dip at the hip and rush down the steps. 

The momentum nearly knocks Zeke’s oval glasses off the bridge of his nose.

“Could you be normal for two seconds?” the blonde groans.

Eren merely answers by sticking his tongue out and holds up a hand, wiggling his thumb and pinkie back and forth. “Fucking loser.”

Carla immediately glares. “Eren, language.”

“Forking, sorry, forking,” Eren corrects with little remorse.

“Seriously?” Zeke laments as he walks by, squinting at his brother. “What are you, ten?”

“Zeke,” a voice chastises softly from the garage. "Be nice to your brother."

Grisha Yeager, father of the year, rolls out a large cooler to bring it towards the second yet-to-be-filled car.

He’s wearing a Margaritavilla button-down, his long hair tied similar to Eren’s. On his forehead is a tie-dye headband.

“We'll be within close quarters of one another for seven whole days," Grisha reminds in that airy tone of his. "We should hold off on the in-fighting until day four at the very least.”

"I'll give it until day three," Zeke mumbles under his breath as he passes by, shoving his boogie board into the first car and smushing Armin's duffle bag down to half its size.

Yeah.

This is what it’s like to vacation with the Yeagers.

Except when your grandfather gets a new girlfriend, and they go to Key West for the summer, you’re stuck without being able to say no to your best friend’s family.

Seven days.

He can handle the Yeagers for seven days.

.

.

— —

.

.

  It took less than three hours for Armin's pale skin to burn like an overcooked egg.

“It’s really not that bad,” chimes in Eren, mouth occupied by the hair tie between his teeth.

Invading his pessimistic mirror space, the taller brunette dips to look at himself while fixing his staple half-up bun hairdo.

The shorter blonde frowns even further as he checks out his tomato-red shoulders, standing shirtless and shoeless in front of him.

“It looks pretty bad, Eren.”

“Nah. Just slap some aloe on it, alright?”

Ruffling sounds behind him.

Glancing over his shoulder in the reflection of the mirror, a bag of potato chips flies into view as Eren carelessly rips it from the cardboard variety pack — courtesy of the emergency snack stash in the corner of the room.

(The emergency snacks are, quote: So that bitch-ass Zeke doesn't steal the goods.)

The sun-kissed boy walks barefoot to the edge of the twin bed and flops down.

Right.

He forgot to mention he’s sharing a room with Eren, which only makes matters forty times worse.

Two twin beds with doily-esque blankets and flat pillows.

Thank god Armin had the sense to pack his own.

“Besides, the alcohol will make it feel better," Eren adds, chewing on a potato chip.

With a noise of defiance, Armin turns from the mirror to stare at his best friend.

“You do realize alcohol dehydrates a person, right?”

“So?”

“So—” Armin protests tightly, “—it’ll make it worse.”

Eren pops another chip in his mouth, shaking his head. 

“Nah.”

Eloquent as always.

Groaning, he slowly — agonizingly — pulls his pastel blue polo over his aching shoulders and breathes out through his nose.

That SPF 50 was supposed to work, but he must have lost track of time binge-reading his first book of the trip.

A spy thriller, actually, that fell flat right around chapter three and nosedived bad just at the cusp of act three.

The wildly out-of-left-field twist made him so mad that he missed his alarm to reapply another coat of sunscreen, and—

Well.

As a result, human lobster is now on the menu tonight.

Regardless, he promised to go out.

It isn't ideal, but a promise is a promise.

About ten or so blocks away from the beach house is the coveted spot known as The Point.

From what he could gather from Google, The Point is a tiki bar boasting high-top bar tables nestled in sand, recreational volleyball courts, and live music all week long.

It’s about the only lively place in this rather family-friendly beach town.

While not technically a dry town, bars are few and far between and there are approximately a whopping zero nighttime entertainment venues, so The Point was about as wild as any college kid stuck on vacation was going to get.

Earlier, Eren spent most of the car ride to the house hyping it up.

Zeke, in surprising fashion, seemed to hold the same sentiment.

(It’s probably the only thing the brothers could agree upon.)

Plus, Zeke apparently had some surfer friends he’d met online that were going on the first night of vacation, so that solidified the night’s plans.

After showering, dressing, and having family dinner with the parents, it's go time.

A little past nine at night, the three boys walk on the sidewalk in a triangle unit, with Armin trailing behind.

Ever a wallflower he keeps quiet, observing carefully as the two brothers figure out their game plan.

Zeke is anti-shots.

Eren wants shots or nothing at all.

“We’re on vacation, why the fuck wouldn’t you do shots?”

“Because,” Zeke explains, “if you start with shots, then you’re setting yourself up for failure.”

“Yeah, if you can’t hold your liquor.”

“Eren, you just turned twenty-one.”

Eren’s nostrils flare. “So?! I had plenty of practice at university!”

“Is he a lightweight, Arlert?”

Wait.

What?

Oh, shit, they’re including him.

“Be honest,” Zeke adds over his shoulder.

Like a deer in headlights, Armin blinks between the brothers. “Uh… sometimes?”

“What?!”

The yell out of his best friend is piercing.

“You goddamn turncoat!”

“You’re not exactly somebody with an iron stomach, Eren,” the blonde reminds softly as if calming a petulant child, only to wince when he's met with a look of pure anger. “But that isn't to say you can't hold a shot down.”

“Or five,” Eren challenges.

“Three at best,” Armin relents.

“Three and a half.”

Armin squints as they turn the corner leading towards the entrance of the bar.

“In what world does half a shot cou—”

“Wait!”

Eren yelps, holding out an arm to stop Zeke in his tracks.

Armin subsequently also stops — as does his wearing patience.

“I have a solution.”

Zeke pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “And what’s that?”

“Look at me, dude.”

The boy with the man bun demands attention, using his pointer and middle finger to gesture between him and his half-brother. 

“You know what I’m thinking. Give it nine seconds.”

Right.

Not ten, because Eren’s favorite number is arbitrarily nine.

Zeke squints with about as much confusion as Armin’s feeling, but Armin knows by now how this is going to go.

Although they’re born with two different mothers, they’re eerily in sync with one another when they want to be extra annoying. 

Some kind of Yeager sixth sense tying them together; they fall silent, staring—

Then the thought strikes.

Like two brain cells clicking together, they simultaneously grin at one another.

“Jagerbombs.”

Great.

So even worse than a shot or a beer.

That’s all it takes for the two to become best buds as they stroll into the tiki bar like they own the place.

The blonde and brunette zero in on an open spot at one of the several pop-up bar locations at this venue—

—leaving Armin in the dust to fumble out his I.D. to the bouncer.

It's nothing new.

Cover charge? Paid.

Hand stamp? Accomplished.

Careful not to get any sand in his sneakers, Armin treads carefully across the uneven landscape towards the same lively bar as his best friend.

Music thumps right into his ribcage. 

Flashing lights threaten to blind him if he so much as looks over his shoulder to the west.

It’s more than he’s used to.

More than he wants, really.

(What happened to the leisure part of vacation again?)

“We got you one!”

Eren.

Blinking back into his body, Armin glances at the shot glass filled to the brim of Jagermeister waggled in his face. Immediately responding with a grimace, he steps back.

“No, I’ll just grab myself a drink, alright? You two enjoy — that.”

“What?” Eren’s frown is immediate. “Seriously? How else are you gonna get wasted with us?”

I’m not, is what he’d like to argue, but he knows Eren by now.

“What do you mean us?” Arnin shouts over the music. “I don’t see Zeke!”

“He got a text from one of his dumbass surfer bros and ditched,” Eren answers, “but to be perfectly honest, I’m thinking of playing the field tonight.”

“The what?”

“The field!”

“Eren, it’s really hard to hear you when they won’t stop mixing Pitbull with ABBA!”

“What?!”

Oh, this is impossible.

He raises his hands to gently push the shot glass towards his best friend’s chest. 

“You take it and show Zeke you can handle it!” Armin calls back at the top of his lungs, his shaggy blonde hair waving in the wind as he nods with encouragement.

That: giving Eren a challenge.

(Works like a charm.)

Determination spreads across his face. Eren nods, hyping himself up for a double-fisted success story. 

Armin simply nods, too, using the chameleon effect to build up Eren’s trust.

(Maybe he shouldn’t be using his psychology notes against his best friend, but desperate times call for desperate measures.)

“Yeah!”

Eren shouts while dropping the shot into the energy drink left perspiring on the bar top.

“I’m gonna!”

“Okay!”

“And then I’m gonna talk to a girl! Or a guy! Or someone!”

Armin’s eyes shoot wide with surprise, but he chooses not to rain on his best friend’s parade because Eren is already chugging the drink, spilling a little of the Jagerbomb down his oversized black tee.

(Good call, wearing dark colors, unlike Armin’s poorly planned pastel.)

Slamming it down on the bar top with a howl of victory, he pats Armin on the arm and trudges forward to the dance floor to do…

Well, that’s between the power of Charli xcx and God.

“Oh, Eren,” Armin mumbles, watching the little man bun bounce in time with the beat of the music until it’s consumed by dancing bodies.

Turning back to the bartenders, the blonde debates.

Agonizes, really.

He doesn’t drink very often.

It’s not really his thing.

But… when on vacation, right?

(Alone, apparently, since Zeke isn’t coming back anytime soon and he’s going to need to deal with dragging Eren’s drunk ass home in the next two hours.)

“Vodka soda, please,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

The bartender behind the counter nods his way before pulling out a plastic cup. 

Within a few seconds the simple alcoholic beverage is concocted, and he leaves a reluctant ten-dollar bill on the sliver of the bar that isn’t covered in condensation or sloshed liquor.

He reaches—

Oh.

That’s not a cup.

Freezing in his place, his blue eyes zero in on a pair of fingers entwined with his, nestled on the very same cup.

He can feel them tense under his own slender digits.

Dread. Pure, existential dread.

Apologize, apologize—

“Shit—”

“I’m so—”

“Sorry!”

A stranger’s voice yelps with his in unison.

Before he can move, their hand rips away from his, leaving his fingers to meet with the cold plastic.

His neck cranes to his left and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

You.

Blinking several times to get his wits about him, he can feel his mouth growing dry.

The way the blinking lights illuminate off of your face completely force his train of thought off the damn tracks.

Flickers of blues, greens, pinks — they compliment your face so nicely as each shade seems to highlight another feature that he hadn’t noticed a second before.

He shouldn’t stare, but he can’t help it: you’re drop dead gorgeous.

“It’s okay,” Armin breathes out after holding his breath for some time. “That was my bad. I didn’t see you.”

Your eyes are just as wide as his. “No! No, it was my fault. I thought that was my drink.”

“What did you order?”

“Uh, a hard seltzer? I think?” you answer, scrunching your nose as you respond.

Mayday.

That’s a type of adorable he is not equipped to handle in his sunburnt state.

“You think?” he repeats with a small chuckle.

You move your head side to side, tilting with an uncommitted air about it.

“It’s bubbling, right? Means I’m on the right carbonated track.”

“Yeah, but don’t hard seltzers usually come in cans?”

“Not always at this place,” you correct, before pushing the cup towards him. “I also kind of panicked when I ordered, so sorry for almost being a drink stealer.”

“Trust me, I know a thing or two about panic ordering,” Armin admits with a huff, taking the cup into his hands.

“Yeah?”

You give a carefree laugh that causes his stomach to give an Olympian-grade somersault.

“Is that why you got a vodka soda?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“We’ve all been there,” you empathize, briefly pouting your lower lip. “I won’t judge.”

He’s not nearly drunk enough to deal with this (see: at all) but that doesn’t mean Armin is going to waste his opportunity.

He may be a wallflower, but he’s equal parts an opportunist.

“So you’ve been here before?” he tries instead, hoping you don’t suddenly snatch your seltzer can and walk away.

You do get your seltzer from the same bartender — a slender aluminum can, nothing fancy — but you don’t walk away.

The opposite: you angle towards him.

Shit, okay.

He can do this.

“My friends love this place,” you tell him over the music. He finds himself leaning closer, angling his chin down, so he can hear you better. “So I just tagged along to make sure no one got black-out drunk or made out with anyone weird.”

“A noble effort,” Armin teases, and your eyes sparkle with amusement. “My friends dragged me here, too.”

“Dragged?” you catch with a growing smirk as you take a sip. “I said I tagged, not dragged.”

“Oh.”

Idiot.

Recover.

“I mean, it wasn't — yeah, no, I was definitely dragged here,” Armin confesses, sipping his vodka soda for some liquid courage.

No use in lying to seem cool.

That facade would crumble like a house of cards.

“Partying at The Point not your scene?” you ask without judgment laced in your tone.

Armin nods. “I could be sitting on the balcony reading right now.”

Your brows slide high with intrigue. "Reading?"

Yeah, he should have expected a reaction like that.

The blonde shuffles, shrugging his shoulders.

"I know, lame."

"I don't think it's lame at all," you answer instantly.

His eyes widen. "I— no?"

"Uh, no," you snort. "If I had a choice, I'd probably be doing the same thing."

Oh, shit.

Oh... shit.

So he's not lame, and he found a possible fellow bookworm.

Armin sips his drink so fast that a little dribbles out the corner of his mouth.

Liquid courage; he needs it, badly.

"If you could be home right now instead of here, what would you be reading?" he decides to ask, knowing it's the most unsexy question he could offer.

You scrunch your nose again, seriously contemplating the question while bobbing your head to the music.

"I brought maybe two books? I should have brought more."

He nods eagerly, his blue eyes round with interest.

"I have a romance that takes place in the summer — I know. Very on the nose," you relent with a small huff. "And, uh, this thriller? But I'm not crazy about it, so I'm mostly reading the romance book on the beach."

"I brought a thriller, too," he admits. "Bounty Run."

"Shut up, you too?"

"Huh?"

You laugh, and it's a melody that makes the music at this venue pale in comparison.

"I literally bought Bounty Run last month and never got around to it until now! It's so bad!"

To whatever deity is smiling upon him today, Armin has to thank them.

Not only has he met someone who likes reading, but they think Bounty Run sucks.

Maybe he's hallucinating from the burn screaming through his polo right now.

"It's really bad," he agrees breathlessly with a chuckle.

"Like dogshit terrible!"

"I know. What the hell was Tracy thinking in chapter six?"

"Oh my god, when she decided to call the hostage guy?"

"Yes!"

"Like, I'm pretty sure that's not how those situations work."

"Not even close."

You both laugh, and all Armin Arlert wants is to know every miniscule thought of yours.

What other books you may have read.

If you have any recommendations.

If you're single.

Nope.

No.

He's not Eren Yeager.

He is not his best friend— 

"Are you from here?" you ask over the music, breaking his panicked train of thought.

Armin swallows more alcohol, shaking his head. "No, we're not locals. We're just vacationing."

"So are we!"

"With your friends?"

"My friend's family," you correct, leaning closer to stop shouting so loudly.

He can feel his blood pressure spike exponentially.

"I'm with my friend's family, too," Armin tells you. "Our shore house for the week is something like ten blocks from here."

“For the week? Which way’s your house?” you ask, before holding up your free hand. “Not in, like, a mega-stalker way.”

“Oh, I didn’t take it that way,” he promises, earnest intent pouring from his mouth. “It’s, uh… wait where are we — oh! That way.”

He swivels and points, like somehow that’ll triangulate where the beach starts.

Your chin turns, noting the direction. “So near the… beach? No fucking way, our house is that way, too, but more like a seven-block walk from here.”

Oh.

No fucking way, indeed.

"Seriously?" Armin asks, voice cracking just a tad.

"Yeah! Do you guys camp out on the beach by third street, too?"

He nods almost too eagerly. "We were just there this afternoon."

"So were we," you confess with a light laugh. "Small world! We were both being subjected to that god-awful book and could've warned each other to pick a less shitty book."

"Well, I brought about a dozen books if you want one to borrow."

Way to go, mouth.

Armin tenses instantly as the words pour from his mouth.

"I... you know, just in case the romance book doesn't work out! Or if you're a fast reader! Or if you—"

"Promise?"

Your question cuts through like a knife.

He is in awe.

Enamored.

He'll give you all of his goddamn books if it means you'll talk to him after tonight.

Suddenly your chin drops, and your free hand fishes for your phone in the back pocket of your jean shorts.

A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, causing the blonde to simply wait.

Stare.

Don't go.

Don't go, don't go, don't— 

"Shit, mayday with my friend."

You sigh as if you were expecting a disaster.

Hell, he's expecting one, too, but he's selfishly forgotten about saving Eren or finding Zeke.

"Are they alright?"

"Yeah, just..." You trail off, typing back a response. "They pre-gamed before we came here to save money. I told them not to, but... best laid plans, right?"

"I could give you my number?" he blurts, and your attention leaves your phone.

Your eyes round with surprise, and he feels immense shame in even offering.

Yet—

"For the books," he adds hastily. Shakily. "To borrow. O-Or if you ever want to just... talk about them."

"For the books," you agree, biting your lip between your teeth. "Yeah, sure, give me your phone."

His cup is empty, but he almost drops it trying to yank his phone out of his pocket.

Armin holds it out to you, unlocking the screen. He watches as you pocket your own phone and take his, typing your number into a new text chat window.

This is happening.

This is seriously, actually happening.

"Here," you offer, handing his phone back. "I put my name in."

He glances down, memorizing your name with newfound vigor.

"Okay, perfect. Oh — my name. My name is Armin."

"Armin?" You repeat. He nods. "I like that name."

Suddenly, he likes it, too.

"See you around?" he asks hopefully.

With a parting smile, you take a slow step backwards.

"...yeah, Armin. See you around."

You look just as sheepish as he feels when you turn on a heel, disappearing into the crowd.

For a moment he stands there, dumbfounded — phone in hand, slack jawed —

Hopeful.

Maybe...

Maybe Armin Arlert won't hate spending seven days at the Yeager shore house after all.

.

author's note:

Thank you SO much for reading part one of my little summer story! I've been dying to write a proper Armin fic for a while now, and a casual, warm vacation setting felt perfect for him. This is meant to be a cozy read, so I hope you enjoy my love letter to my favorite boy. xo

How are we feeling after part one? Let me know in the replies! (And thank you for any reblogs, likes, engagement, etc. Every comment gives this writer wings.)

[goldenwilliamson]

please smut about this fit😩 easy access?

new year's kiss | leah williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

a/n: you're so real for this ask... this dress is absolutely insane on her. so hot.

summary: reader and leah are spending new years together and reader can not keep her cool around leah when she looks that good in her dress. cunnilingus. just some plotless smut for you, happy new year!

word count: 1.8k

It was New Year's Eve, a night you traditionally dreaded. You always felt as though there was far too much expectation to have a good time. But this year you were spending it with Leah and that meant you were actually excited about what lays ahead. She made you feel like you had something to celebrate, and you were going to take any opportunity to see her dressed up and having fun. 

You had become accustomed to seeing Leah in her best outfits at the many events she’s been attending lately, but nothing prepared you for how good she looked in her dress that she picked for the night. 

The two of you were soaking up your alone time before the night ahead, laying down on the couch for a cuddle. 

“I need to figure out what I’m wearing tonight,” you sighed into Leah’s chest. 

She kissed you softly on your head, “Why don’t you wear your little black skirt with that corset top.”

You pulled back to look at your girlfriend, “You like that top don’t you?”

Every time you had worn it Leah could not stop going on about how good you looked. And every time you complained about having nothing to wear she pulled it out of your drawers, insisting that you wear it. 

“It suits you,” she says playfully.

“It makes my boobs look unreal is what it does,” you say and she laughs. 

“It’s not a crime for me to appreciate when my girlfriend looks fit,” Leah says. 

“If it was, we’d both be in trouble,” you say. 

You settle into silence for a moment before you realise you don’t know what Leah’s wearing tonight. When you ask her, she tells you that it’s a surprise. 

“Another suit?” You say excitedly, loving the way a suit makes her look and behave. It’s always like captain Leah comes out for the night when she’s in a suit, ready for business. 

“Maybe. You’ll have to just wait and see,” she said, making you feel even more impatient than you already were. 

When it was time for you both to finally head out for your New Year’s party with all of your closest friends, you were ready, sat on the bed while Leah had locked herself behind the bathroom door. 

“Come on, Lee, you’re killing me!” You groaned, wanting nothing more than to see her in her outfit. 

“Good things take time,” Leah said as she opened the door, revealing herself in the tiniest, hottest, dress you'd ever seen her in.

“Oh my god,” you said, mouth agape. 

“Sorry to disappoint, no suit tonight,” she shrugs, letting her hands fall on her hips with the knowledge that the sight before you is the furthest thing from a disappointment. 

Suddenly you find yourself filled with desire, and all you want is to show Leah how good she looks. You push yourself off the bed and walk over to her, letting your arms snake around her waist against the white fabric. As you lean in to kiss her, her hands get lost in your hair, pulling you closer. 

“You like it, then?” Leah says as you move your lips slowly down her neck towards her exposed collarbone. 

“Yes,” you say simply, before resuming your kisses against her skin, wanting to have her in every way possible immediately. 

“Well as much as I would love to let you show me how much you like it, we’re late,” Leah says trying her best to hide how flustered she is and steer you back on course. 

“Mean,” you say, frowning at her dismissal of your charged actions. 

“We still have the whole night ahead of us,” Leah says like a promise, before kissing you softly. 

“Fine,” you sigh.

You two lock up your house and head out for the party. All your friends greet you with warmth as you arrive, telling you both how good you looked. It didn’t take long for the party to kick into full swing with the drinks and music flowing immediately upon arrival. 

While you tried to be engaged with everyone, and hold conversation, your eyes were locked on Leah whenever she was around. 

You were stood speaking with Keira when you found yourself completely distracted, eyes trailing down your girlfriends legs. 

“You’re not being very discreet,” Keira called you out and you could instantly feel your cheeks warm with embarrassment. 

“I’m so sorry, I promise I’m listening,” you say, redirecting your attention back onto her. 

But the truth was you couldn’t focus on a single thing, not since Leah had opened your bathroom door hours ago. It was nearing midnight, and you couldn’t wait any long. You approached Leah, hugging her from behind and resting your chin on her shoulder. 

“Come with me to the bathroom?” You murmur suggestively in her ear. 

Leah grins at yours proposal, but responds very calmly, “Naughty.” 

“What do you expect when you’re walking around looking that good in that dress,” you say. 

“Hmm,” Leah hums as if weighing up your offer.

To seal the deal you start rambling your inner thoughts into Leah’s ear.

“You know what I want to do?” You ask.

“Do tell,” Leah smiles, the two of you in your own world in the corner of the room. 

You let go of your hold on her now and move around to stand in front of her, looking her deep in her eyes before leaning towards her ear.

“I want to lift this dress up,” you say, letting your hands run down the sides of her body against the fabric, “And I want to taste you.”

“Y/N,” she sighs your name. 

“Want to make you feel good,” you press a kiss against her jaw, right by her ear as you say this. 

That’s all it takes for Leah to grab your hand and drag you through the house, smiling pleasantly at all your friends as you beeline for the bathroom together. Your heart beat races just at the thought of finally being able to be with her. 

She pulls you into the bathroom and you shut the door quickly and Leah is swift to push you up against it. 

“You really couldn’t wait until we got home, could you?” Leah said, her words broken up by messy kisses. 

“I tried to fuck you at home, but you wouldn’t let me,” you manage to quip back. 

“God, you’re insufferable,” Leah utters in the most loving way those words can be said. 

“I know I am,” you say admittedly before taking the reigns and pushing her back towards the large bath tub. You walk until Leah’s legs hit the ceramic and she’s forced to sit down on the edge. At this you kneel down, letting your hands run wild up and down Leah’s legs. 

“This is my favourite thing you’ve ever worn,” you tell her, not even knowing that it’s necessarily true, but knowing how much it is turning you on in the moment. 

“You said that last week,” Leah laughs, but is quickly shut up when you move your face between her legs, kissing her against the fabric of her underwear as she widens her legs for you. 

You kiss the insides of her thighs religiously, wishing you could bottle the feeling of her skin against your lips, and the sound of her heavy breaths. 

You look up at her as if for permission as you hook your fingers under her underwear and she grants you permission with the slight raise of her hips, allowing you to slide them down her legs.

“Please,” Leah says, asking for you to resume your previous actions, and you oblige willingly. 

She parts her legs and you let your tongue drag through the wetness between her legs. Her fingers get lost in your hair, guiding you closer to her. You move slowly with your tongue, teasing her out before making a movement to kiss her clit and suck on it lightly. 

“Y/N, God, yes,” she moans, letting her head fall back as she stabilises herself with one hand on the edge of the bath, and the other in your hair. 

As you continue your ministrations on Leah, you lose yourself in the slight bucking of her hips, the sounds of her moans, and the desperate way she is pushing your head closer. You can feel yourself becoming wetter, and all you want is to make her come for you. 

You flick her clit with your tongue, as you run your hands along her thighs. You lick, you suck, and you kiss her until Leah gives you the signal that she is getting close. 

“Oh my god, oh god,” she repeats herself, stuttering through the words, her breathing erratic. 

You hum against her before you say, “Come for me darling.”

You continue to suck on her clit and it drives her over the edge. Her orgasm meets her beautifully, rolling through her whole body down to her core. You continue your movements gently, letting her ride out her full orgasm before she reaches down with both hands to grab ahold of your face. 

She looks at you in awe before you stand up, pulling her up with you as she tugs her dress back down her legs. You kiss her gently now, the urgency having dissipated. 

“You’re amazing,” you tell her.

“I love you,” she says, shaking her head in wonder. You both often questioned how you ended up so lucky. 

“I love you more,” you assure her. 

“Not possible, I’m afraid,” she sighs, as if she has more love for you than you even realise.

“Was that okay?” You ask gently, leaning to press a soft kiss on her shoulder. 

“It was perfect,” she says.

“Good,” you smile peacefully. 

“I’ll return the favour later,” she promises and you smirk, eager for what’s to come. 

“You’re such a tease,” you say. 

“It’s fun watching you get all worked up,” she tells you. 

You shake your head and turn to look in the mirror, seeing how flushed you look and making your best attempts to flatten your hair.

"God, look at the mess you've made of me," you say.

After spending some time cleaning yourself up, you look at Leah. 

“Ready to get back out there?” You suggest. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to put on a normal face and act like that didn’t just happen,” she says. 

“It’s almost midnight, no one is paying attention to us,” you say. 

With that Leah grabs her phone and checks the time, it reads 11:58PM. 

“Shit, it really is almost midnight,” she says. 

You start to hear everyone shuffling around together in the living room telling each other to get ready to countdown. Stepping out of the bathroom feels like reentering the real world, and you grab hold of Leah’s hand, hoping to always be able to step into your own private world together.

“Will you be my midnight kiss?” You ask jokingly.

“Always,” she promises. 

[weediee]

All so oblivious

HUMAN ALASTOR X FEM WIFE!READER (She/Her pronouns)

Summary: Y/N has a neighbourhood friend over, Margaret. A regular talk with some tea and cakes quickly turned into a much more sinister and bruting talk.

E/N: Thank you all for the support in the last one, really, I am so grateful. I'm very glad you all enjoy my writing - I will continue to keep everyone updated! ❤️

Trigger warnings: This story contains talk of murder, blood, and abuse and is not suitable for young audiences. Please let me know if I missed anything!

"You know, it really is unfortunate. So many young people, innocent people, suddenly going missing." Margaret said solemnly. I was standing in the kitchen, cutting an apple Danish I had made for Margaret and as I hummed quietly in response, not paying much mind to her theatrics.

"I mean, what person could go and do such heinous things to such lovely people with long lives ahead of them." She pinched the space between her brows.

I paused, the knife in my hand scraping gently across the board as it came to a halt. "It's surprising you think all these people are innocent, Marg. We really don't know." I mumbled softly.

"Innocent or not, nobody deserves to die. Especially all those young boys." Marg scoffed at my response. She had always been this way, devils advocate. It was one of the few reasons that over the years I'd begun growing a dislike for Margaret. She was too sympathetic for the wrong people.

"Those 'young boys' with 'promising futures' were nothing but abusers! Every last one of them." I spat aggressively before composing myself. "Each of them had no right wandering our streets."

Margaret's voice quickly halted, one of the rare occasions she kept quiet.

"You're disgusting." She growled, I could hear her glass being placed on my table and the sound of the wooden floors creaked as she stood up to her feet.

"Why are you so against these people being alive. It's almost as if you have something to do with this all you know?" She added onto her statement.

"Me? knowing something you all don't?" I let go of the knife, turning to face her as I leaned against the kitchen countertop. "Margaret you're being silly. You must really go home, you're probably having post partum delusions again-" I was about to step forward before she stopped me.

"Don't come near me! You had something to do with this didn't you. I've been trying to tell everybody you and Alastor are too perfect for your own good, nobody listens to me. You're sick." She yelled.

"I'm not sick, Margaret. You are the one spitting nonsense!" I screamed back, my voice raising ever so slightly above hers. "How dare you come into my home and accuse me of these crimes." I shook my head in disappointment.

I moved my hand behind me, grabbing the knife slowly. "I will hand it to you though, you are correct." I shrugged.

"W-what?" She asked softly, hands dropping to her sides and clenching into fists.

"I know, Marg. It's a shame... I really did like you, but you've always been so loud mouthed. So nosy, always in somebody else's business when it's not yours to be concerned about. Me and Al can't have that. We have a reputation to uphold." I smiled softly.

"I mean, what would the papers say if they found out?" I laughed softly.

"You're a psychotic bitch! You know that." She screamed.

I hummed, nodding my head. I glared Marg up and down, tears could be seen falling from her eyes as they formed over a glossy shine.

"Before you die, I'm going to tear that tongue out of your mouth so you never speak about me or my husband again." My smile quickly dropped into a flat line.

I was as she quickly attempted to scramble to the front door, which was unsuccessful as she tripped on the rug. I quickly ran over, flipping her in her back to look up at me.

I smiled, pulling the knife atop my head with my hands before plunging it into her chest repeatedly. Once, twice, a fourth time, a fifth, as far as twenty before I stopped counting. There Margaret laid, in a pool of what looked like melted rubies. I stood up, leaving her in her final resting spot as I carried on with my day.

Cutting the Danish, doing the laundry, pouring Alastor his whiskey for when he got home. He could deal with Margaret when he arrived, but the whole time I finished up my jobs - the only thing on my mind was "They're all so oblivious."

E/N: How do we like this one? Yay or nay? Feel free to be honest (and feel free to send ideas)

Reminder to have a dandy day everyone!

- Weedie 🌹

[andreafmn]

Kinktober ⛓️ Day 20

Word Count: 3.1K Paring:  Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Prompt @kinktober2023: Foodplay WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), food play, oral (male and female receiving)

Summary: Stiles Stilinski is forgetful. Everyone knows that, but no one more than his girlfriend (Y/N). There have been far too many occasions where the boy has forgotten special events or details for her to be mad when he fails to mention they have only one afternoon to bake a hundred cupcakes for a bake sale. And, instead of growing angry, she goes down a sweet turn.

A/N: I should be ashamed how long it has taken me to finish this damn series, but at least we are one step closer. Hopefully I finish before october 🫣🫣

MASTERLIST

In hindsight, volunteering to make a hundred cupcakes for a fundraising bake sale wasn’t the best idea. Even if it was for the lacrosse team, it sort of ended in disaster. Sweet, sweet disaster. 

It was the first time since Stiles had been on the team that the lacrosse Cyclones had made it to the state competition, and they were not ready for the financial toll it would take. Since Jackson had left the school, most of the sports teams had their budgets slashed, as the Whittmores felt no need to continue contributing to their son’s extracurriculars. 

However, the kids at Beacon Hills High School were nothing if not resilient, and they were determined to get the team to Santa Barbara. 

Somehow, the idea of a bake sale made its way to the top of the fundraising list, and everyone and their mother had to come up with an item to bring to the school. Somehow, Stiles had roped him and (Y/N) into baking a hundred cupcakes by Monday morning, and it just so happened that it was Sunday afternoon. 

It wasn’t the first time Stiles had gotten them in a pressing situation—most times, it was more life and death, but nevertheless, still pressing. The worst part was, he’d only just told his girlfriend two hours before they had to get to work. The pair had quite a long night ahead of them. Not that (Y/N) wasn’t used to it. 

If the girl ever said that Stiles forgetting crucial details was a sporadic event, she’d be lying. In the years they had known each other, it had become a staple in their relationship. Even when they were only friends, she’d had to make sure anything they were meant to do was told to her first, or else she’d only find out when it was too late.

(Y/N) didn’t mind, though. She understood that the boy’s brain had always been riddled with far too many thoughts, and juggling it all could be quite frustrating. That’s why, when he woke her from her Sunday morning sleep-in, she simply said she’d shower, change, and head to his house. The girl knew he hadn’t done it in malice, so there was no point in being angry at him. At least he had remembered. 

Thankfully, the journey wasn’t long since all she had to do was walk to the house next door. But she did notice the lack of a sheriff cruiser on the driveway. Only Stiles’ blue Jeep stood there, a layer of dirt gathered on the paint. Not only were they meant to bake a hundred cupcakes and decorate them, but they had to do it by themselves. And (Y/N) could only laugh at the situation. 

“Stiles, I’m here,” she called out as she walked into his house as she had done a million times before. “I hope you’ve already gotten started.”

“Well, about that,” he chuckled awkwardly. It wasn’t until the girl walked into his kitchen that she saw he had only gone as far as getting the groceries they needed. “I didn’t know where to start, so I was waiting for you to get here.” 

“This is gonna be a long night, huh?” she sighed with a smile as the boy nodded. “Alright then. Let’s get to work.” 

In a matter of minutes, (Y/N) had set a game plan for the pair. She divided the ingredients into four stations for the four flavors they’d be doing, making sure that each recipe was visible and easy to follow. The last thing they needed were more setbacks. They only had so many hours to do 25 cupcakes of each flavor and make sure they were cool enough to be decorated. Everything had to be done precisely as written. 

And for the first couple of hours, it had worked. Stiles and (Y/N) were working together like a well-oiled machine. While one mixed, the other served. While one set the timer, the other cleaned. It was all coming together nicely—too nicely. 

It was only a matter of time before disaster struck. 

Stiles had started to grow angsty with the repetitive tasks, his veins itching for more spontaneity. He knew he had brought this upon himself. Worse even, he had brought it upon (Y/N) as well, who, for some reason, never seemed annoyed with his constant brain scatters. Since he had known her, she had always been understanding of the way his brain worked. Where others would have chastised or criticized him, she took the time to ground him. It had been one of the many reasons he found himself falling in love with her. No matter how many times he would screw up, she was always supportive and sympathetic, finding ways to help him rather than bring him down. 

And that afternoon was no different. 

They were merely done with the vanilla cupcakes when Stiles had begun to grow bored. (Y/N) had instructed him to put away the dirty bowls and whisks used for that flavor before they started on the chocolate ones, but all he could think about was the chocolate syrup he had bought to drizzle on top of the dessert. His mind filled with some very unhygienic ways he could use the sweet liquid and where he could use it. 

Suddenly, as though she had been reading his mind, the girl took the bottle and let it stream into her mouth. A few drops landed on her chin, and she wiped them up with her fingers before popping the digits back into her mouth. There was no subtext to it. Just a girl enjoying chocolate syrup. 

But in Stiles’ everything was different. Wind was blowing her hair back, the lights had dimmed, and sensual music played in the background, all in slow motion. He was turned away from (Y/N) at the sink when he felt his erection press against the zipper of his pants, making for a very uncomfortable position as he washed the dishes. Stiles moved his legs from side to side, pressing his knees together as he searched for some much-needed friction. 

But to (Y/N), he looked like he had been holding his pee in for the past few hours. “If you have to go to the bathroom, you can, Stiles,” she chuckled as she slithered her arms around his waist, grinning as he stiffened under her touch. “I don’t mind cleaning this up.” 

“Oh, uh, that’s not it,” he stammered awkwardly. “I don’t really have to pee.” 

“You can take a break if you want, then,” she said. “I know this is not the most thrilling task. At least, not compared to chasing down supernatural creatures. But you still made the compromise, so we have to get this done tonight.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he continued fidgeting. His front was pressed against the counter, trying his best to keep his hardening bulge from her sight. “I just need a second.” 

(Y/N) noticed the way Stiles froze against the counter, not even turning to give her a kiss on the cheek like he normally did. Instead, he washed the same bowl three times before noticing that he had yet to take another dish. His legs were pressed together, and his knees buckled back and forth in search of… friction, she realized. Her boyfriend was sporting a raging hard-on while they baked cookies. 

She couldn’t fathom what about their situation had turned him on. They were covered in flour from their hair to their clothes, they had been standing for a couple of hours, and they hadn’t as much as touched hands since they had begun working. But the sweet taste in her mouth reminded her of what she had done only a few minutes before. The image of (Y/N) dripping chocolate into her mouth sparked a vivid picture in the boy’s head, and he succumbed to his wild imagination. 

Any other girl would have ignored their boyfriend’s problem and focused on their long task. They had no time to waste, and certainly not many ingredients to spare. But (Y/N) wasn’t any other person, and she couldn’t let such a moment pass her by. For that split second, she thanked her lucky stars the Sherriff had gone to work, and the couple had the whole house to themselves. Things were about to get messy, and the carpet in his bedroom was hard to clean. 

“Are you, by chance, turned on right now, baby?” (Y/N) purred in his ear as she ran her hands up his chest. “Are you seriously thinking about sex when we have so much to do?” 

“I, uh, well, you know,” he stammered. “Things happen.”

“And what happened, Stiles?” she continued, sliding her hands now downward and landing on his cock. She squeezed it softly, chuckling as he whined at the touch. “What got you all hot and bothered?” 

“Oh, uh, n-nothing really,” he replied. (Y/N) unhanded him then, allowing him to let out a breath of relief. “You know us teenage boys and our hair-thin trigger.”

“Right,” the girl said. “Turn around, Stiles.”

“I’m quite good here,” Stiles chuckled awkwardly. “I just need a minute.”

“Stiles, baby,” she called. “Turn around. I need to see you.

Once he did, he regretted not turning around sooner. Behind him, (Y/N) stood in nothing but her underwear, a mischievous grin adorning her face. In one hand, she held the bottle of syrup that had started it all. In the other, a can of whipped cream. And all Stiles could do was groan as his already painfully hard erection pressed against the seam of his jeans. 

“W-what are you doing, (Y/N)?” he swallowed hard. “We, uh… you, uh…” 

“I told you, babe,” she smirked. “You need a break.” 

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice as he crossed the room to reach her. He took the image of her in, running his eyes from her head to her toes, as though he had never seen her in that way before. And, well, to him, that’s what it always felt like. (Y/N) was everything he had ever dreamed of, and most of the time, he felt like he had fallen asleep and never woken up when he was with her. 

“You seem very intrigued by this bottle of chocolate, Stiles,” she teased, giggling softly as he placed his hands on her hips. “Is there something you wanna tell me? Maybe a little kink we’ve never explored before.” 

“I didn’t know I had it until today,” the boy confessed. “The thought just popped into my head, and now, well, it’s all I’ve been able to think about.” 

“So, what do you want to do with this, baby?” (Y/N) whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Tell me what you want.” 

A groan escaped Stiles as she pressed her body against his, his hands exploring the exposed skin of her hips. The cupcakes were long forgotten, and all he could focus on was the excitement he felt to fulfill the fantasy he had dreamed of only a few minutes before. “Whatever you want,” he said. “I don’t care where you use it as long as I get to lick it off your body.” 

“You’re giving me so much freedom,” she smiled. “Hope you don’t regret it later.” 

“I don’t think I could ever regret anything that has to do with you, babe.” 

“Well then, let’s start you off slow.” (Y/N) unhanded Stiles before letting a stream of chocolate fall into her mouth, allowing a bit to drip down her chin and neck. “Oh, no! I’ve made a mess of myself.” 

Laughing at her overexaggerated acting, Stiles licked his lips before running his tongue from her neck up to her chin, reveling in the taste of her skin mixed with the chocolate. Mixing food with sex had never been something he had thought to do, but after the first taste, he wondered why it had taken him so long to do so.

The way (Y/N) sighed as he licked away the liquid made his cock twitch in his pants, yearning for a touch he knew would take time. And he didn’t mind. Especially after his girlfriend removed her bra and let the bottle of syrup drip down her chest, exciting him even further. 

He seemed like a starved man as he feasted on the girl’s breasts, making sure not a single drop of chocolate was left. He lapped at her skin, traveling the expanse of her chest before landing on the hardened peaks of her breasts. He nipped and sucked as he teased her, chuckling softly as she moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair. Chocolate on (Y/N)’s skin shouldn’t have excited him as much as it did, but he would risk a cavity if it meant tasting her this way every chance he got. 

Even though (Y/N) had been the one to initiate contact, it didn’t take long for Stiles to take control of the situation. As he kissed his way down her stomach, he hooked his fingers through the elastic of her underwear and pulled it off until she was completely exposed to him. Then, he took the bottle from her hand and let it drip on her skin until it reached her cunt. His eyes were trained on the drops of brown that stained her body, watching as it slowly moved. 

Before it could reach the ground, Stiles licked it up, groaning as he tasted her wetness mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate. If he had ever questioned what the nectar of the gods tasted like, after that afternoon, he’d gotten his answer. He lapped at her core like a starving man, acting as though she was his first and last meal. 

(Y/N) braced herself with the counter behind her as Stiles hooked one of her legs on his shoulder for better access to her cunt. He teased her clit with his tongue, the syrup long gone but the sweetness forever lingering. He circled the bundle of nerves with the tip, applying just enough pressure to have her panting and moaning. 

“Fuck, baby,” she groaned. “I’m so close.”

All Stiles could do was send vibrations through her body with a chuckle. He wanted her to come undone in his mouth, to have her knees buckle under the weight of the orgasm he was giving her. Because, regardless of where he was lacking, the Stilinski boy was always giving. 

He was relentless in his pursuit of her climax, sucking and flicking, waiting for the tell-tale signs that she was reaching her end. Signs that weren’t too far behind as he continued his attack. She threaded her fingers back into his hair, pulling at the strands while she pushed his head tight against her until, with a loud shriek of his name, she came. 

She pulled him to his feet as she recovered, crashing her lips onto his. She tasted herself in his mouth and moaned at the mix with the chocolate. “That was…,” the girl panted with a laugh. “Who knew you’d be this excited over a little chocolate?”

“Well, you know I’ve always had a bit of a sweet tooth,” he grinned. “I’m just surprised it took this long for us to do something like this.”

“Oh, and we’re not done yet,” she said. In a swift move, (Y/N) flipped them over, pressing Stiled against the counter as she reached for the can of whipped cream behind them. “It’s your turn, baby.”

“What’re you…?”

Before he could continue, the girl’s hands were unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down his legs, his boxers following in tow. She smiled as his erection sprung free, red and wet from the anticipation. Poor thing looked like it was ready to burst. And who was she to deny it the touch it was yearning for? 

With a playful smile on her face, (Y/N) took hold of the base of his cock, chuckling as he took in a sharp breath at the touch. She then squirted a line of cream on his length, licking the excess from the tip of the can before turning back to Stiles. The boy stared at her with giddy anticipation, trembling as she hovered over him. Her breath tickled his skin, making his body erupt in goosebumps as he waited for her to move.

And, as much as she wanted to toy with him, (Y/N) knew how long he had already been waiting for, and they still had so much to do. So, instead of making him work for it, she swirled the tip of her tongue around Stiles’ cockhead, making him grow weak at the knees. The taste alone was enough to make her want more. 

She ran her tongue across his length, memorizing the feeling of his skin on her tongue, the mix of his pre with the silky sweet of the whipped cream, and the way Stiles bucked his hips forward. It was a mix she wanted to experience again, sooner rather than later. 

Once she was satisfied with the cleanup job, (Y/N) finally engulfed her mouth around Stles’ cock, drawing out a loud groan from the boy. She knew he was not going to last long, but she would make them the best few minutes of his day. 

(Y/N) started at a slow pace, burying him in the wetness of her mouth while she swirled her tongue around his shaft. But with the way Stiles was wriggling with every stroke, she sped up quickly. Her head moved up and down rapidly, one hand gripping the base of his cock while the other worked to massage his tightening balls. 

“Oh, god, baby,” he croaked out. “Fuck, I’m almost there—don’t stop.” 

And she wasn’t planning to. Instead, she kept her pace, letting him reach the back of her throat as she sucked her cheeks in. She bobbed her head until saliva was dripping down her chin, and her breath was being cut off. Just like he had done for her, she was working to reach his climax—that wasn’t too far behind. 

All it took was a perfectly timed squeeze of his balls, and Stiles was stuttering forward, holding (Y/N)’s head as he emptied himself in her mouth. Strand after strand painted the inside of her mouth until there was nothing left, and with a satisfied grunt, he exited her mouth. 

Still knelt on the floor, (Y/N) swallowed Stiles’ finish before looking directly into his eyes and squirting whipped cream into her mouth. She said, “Much better,” and stood up. 

Stiles grabbed the sides of her face and kissed her roughly, sighing at their mixed tastes in his mouth. “That really was something else,” he smiled as he released her. “We have to try that again.” 

“Tell you what,” she grinned. “If we finish these cupcakes on schedule, I can promise you a very sweet treat after.” 

“Then why are we standing here?” Stiles exclaimed as he pulled up his pants. “Let’s get this done!” 

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[kometqh]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭

Captain Rex x F!Jedi!Reader Pt.2 of Forget Me Not Rex has finally settled down on a faraway, isolated planet. Finally, he has found some semblance of peace from the ongoing war against the Empire. Finally, he can take the time to recover from losing you, but how long will that last? Word Count: 3007 Warnings: Swearing, making out, old injuries. A/N: This has been specifically requested, and can be thought of as either the continuation of the previous story or an alternative ending :) It was going to turn into a big fat smut but my brain couldn't handle posting that (I've never written or posted a full smut before!!)

Vast golden fields swayed gently in the warm, evening summer breeze. The golden sun illuminated the landscape, a warm glow settling over the hay and Rex's figure, who was relaxing on his porch, hands behind his head as he observed the sight before him.

How many times had he dreamt of such a sight? Of owning his own little farm, of owning a couple of banthas and chickens and goats? 

Too many times for his younger, prouder self to admit. 

Where his brothers used to loudly fantasise over their ideal futures, he was too busy playing the perfect soldier, sticking to his obligations, rules and limitations.

But now? Now he had that one small bundle of joy, held tightly within his iron-hard grasp. And he wasn't about to go exchanging it for anything else. Not in a million lifetimes.

The loud, content bellowing of a few banthas stripped him of his thoughts, his gaze looking for the one particular creature that always seemed to make the most noise. Far ahead, to his left, was one bantha, rolling its body in the hay, short tail wagging left to right, continuous hums and moos escaping its throat in ground-shaking vibrations.

A soft smile tugged at Rex's lips; that was his oldest, and his first ever Bantha.

He had spent the last four years nurturing and caring for the creature, leading it over stretches of land, until he was finally able to settle down in an abandoned farmhouse, far away from any civilization.

The farmhouse itself wasn't in such bad shape. Sure, it needed repairs here and there, but it wasn't anything a tough solider like Rex couldn't handle. He got to work pretty quick, with his handy tools and a shit ton of determination, he had refurnished and fixed the farmhouse within a year and a half, and now, all that was left was to renew the coat of paint that seemed to chip away any time it rained.

But Rex figured that could wait, after all, no one would be able to tell that the farmhouse was being used as long as it looked old and rusty, right?

With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes, basking in the warmth provided by the rays of the setting sun. He was tired. It was a long day of working on the farm, planting the appropriate crops for the upcoming, much colder, season, as well as milking the banthas to make different cheeses the next day.

He thought over his schedule, already feeling a headache rising in the back of his head. The following week he was supposed to be making his way over to the nearest town, to sell whatever he had managed to produce over the last two weeks. Going to the closest town over was his least favourite activity; he preferred to stay hidden away in his little farmhouse with his Banthas and Tooka.

He preferred to relax on his porch, to watch over his animals as they grazed happily across the long stretch of fields, to feel the warm sunrays kissing his skin, to watch the sun lazily disappear behind the horizon.

He let his tired eyes fall closed, the wrinkles on his skin seemingly fading away, a soft smile shining on his face at the soft hum of the summer breeze and grazing animals, an all too familiar weight lifting from his chest inch by inch. The gentle breeze passed his body, leaving a pleasant, cooling chill to run down his spine.

Darkness and warmth surrounded him like a weighted blanket, though his body felt light. He dreamt of nothing, his mind jumping to and from consciousness, his body twitching at a sudden shift in atmosphere. His ears almost twitched at the soft whir of a ship flying above, goose bumps rising over the expanse of his bare, muscular arms as a much stronger wind grazed past his body.

But his eyes snapped open to the sound of panicked tip-tapping of his banthas, their heaved breathing and confused whines reaching his ears. The warm honeyed glare of his eyes was gone, now replaced by a deep black as he looked around, the night sky pitch black.

He must have snoozed off or something, how many hours have passed?

The banthas continued to make noise, but this time the briefest whispers accompanied them. With a strong, heavy inhale, Rex slowly rose from his seat, eyes squinted as he tried to cover for his lack of vision.

Who were they? The Empire? 

Surely not.

Rex had made sure to cover all of his tracks, remaining classed as officially dead in the Empire's files. 

Did someone betray him? 

But who? 

And how? 

Only a very small number of people actually knew-

"Hey lady! Calm it!" A familiar voice said all too loudly, giving an affectionate pat to one of the banthas. The voice, it was so.. so like Rex's.

His eyes widened as the other figures shushed the man, and Rex couldn't help the relieved smile and sigh that escaped his chest. 

He knew those people. After all, they're the ones he rescued Echo with.

However, one by one, various emotions swirled around in his head. Happiness? Of course. He was happy to see his brothers after four gruelling, lonely years. Confusion? Hell yeah! What was so important that they had to break their no contact? Relief too, he could feel the way his heart rate had spiked just at the mere idea of danger, blood rushing into his head, loudly pounding against his eardrums.

Slowly, one foot moved, followed by the other, taking turns leading Rex down the porch, towards his brothers. Towards his family.

At the sight of Rex's moving figure, some men groaned, whereas Wrecker and Omega began running at full-speed towards the male, tackling him to the ground in a long awaited hug.

"Rex! We missed you!" Omega exclaimed, erupting into fits of laughter as Rex's strong arm wrapped around her and Wrecker.

"Alright alright! Now get off of me, I can feel my bones being crushed!" Rex exclaimed, though his hold on the two didn't ease, nor did his smile disappear.  Quickly scrambling off of him, the two couldn't contain their happy, yet seemingly mischievous smiles as Hunter extended a hand out to Rex.

"It's been a while, brother." Hunter nodded, pulling Rex in for a quick hug, patting his back. Hunter's body was stiff, his shoulders tense and breathing strained as he moved away, Rex noticed. That was unusual.

Though a smile remained on his face, Rex couldn't help but feel nervous at the strange tension surrounding the batch. As he looked around, one eyebrow quirked at the sight of Tech and Crosshair shielding Echo from view and.. someone else? Who were they?

"What's going on..?" He questioned, his eyes narrowing as he looked between the two.

Echo and the figure stood in the very far back, Echo's arm was wrapped tightly around their shoulders, holding them protectively close to his chest, his grip tight as if the figure would disappear into the darkness of the night if his hold let up even by an inch.

His eyes remained trained on Echo and the mysterious figure, though Rex's head tilted slightly to the right, in Hunter's direction.

"Hunter-" Rex started, but was quickly interrupted by the look on Echo's face. His ears strained, almost missing the soft, trembling whimper. The figure brought a hand up to their face, too late in stifling the sound.

As their hand lifted, Rex noticed that all-too familiar, cuffed sleeve hanging onto their hand. 

Time seemed to slow, his chest straining painfully at the sound. Rex could feel his heart drop, the air sucked from his body like a popped balloon.

His sight was stuck on that sleeve, visions plaguing his mind, replaying like a broken tape.

Memories, memories of her.

That voice.

His legs moved before his mind could even comprehend what was happening. Tech and Crosshair narrowly avoided being collided into, stepping to the side as Rex pushed through. 

His lips twisted into a pained frown, his teeth gritted together like metal bars.

That robe.. That Jedi robe.

How didn't he notice it right away?

The look on Echo's face told him everything he needed to know, his hold easing on her as Rex reached his arms out, gripping her shoulders tightly.

"Y/n.." Her name spilled from his lips so easily, so softly, as though he was cursed, spellbound to only repeat her name, only those few simple syllables for the rest of eternity. It lingered on his tongue like the sweetest of syrups, leaving a fiery, burning trail in his throat, scalding at his heart like a molten fist, twisting, turning and tearing.

"Rex," A shiver fell down his spine, his breath hitching in his throat. How long had it been since he last heard it? Tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes, his gut twisting into a familiar knot, adrenaline spreading like fire through his veins. His heart pumped blood so quickly, so fiercely through his body, it was like a thousand fireworks had gone off in that instant. Many people have said his name, of course, but only her voice had ever evoked such strong emotions in him.

From the way she'd command his attention during meetings, her gaze lingering a second longer than necessary, the way she'd whisper it when it was just the two of them, hiding in a faraway corner on one of the ships, or even the way it rolled off the tip of her tongue whilst-

It felt like the world around had been sucked into the background, leaving only the two of them, hearts beating wildly, minds melting over one another, even the cold night failing to gather their attention.

His hands, which had been previously on her shoulders, were now gently cradling her face, thumbs swishing back and forth in soft strokes. 

His whole focus was on her eyes- oh, those starry eyes.

How many times had he dreamed of them?

How many times had he cried at night, calling out for her in broken whispers and sobs?

Rex knew it was a few times too many, and yet at the same time, it wasn't enough.

A sob left his lips as he dropped the hood off her head, revealing the person behind the shadowy figure.

Something was different. Off.

Her face, although so familiar, was now so different. Bathed in aged lines, marks, grease and dirt, and worst of all.. A scar.

He hadn't noticed it under the shadow of her hood, but now, it was ever so prominent under the blaring moonlight.

A lone tear cascaded down his face, leaving a wet, salty trail from the midpoint of his eye, down the plush softness of his cheek, dripping off the edge of his jaw. Just like her scar. He let his thumb caress the rough, broken, damaged skin, his lips twisted in a pained frown, stunned to silence.

Her hand, one that used to be so soft and so gentle, was now gripping tightly at his wrist, a gentle shadow on her cheeks, on her scar, casted by her eyelashes. When did she get it? How did she get it?

Her head twisted to the side, making the most effort to hide that side of her face from his gaze.

"Don't.." Rex whispered, no, he warned, taking a hold of her chin, forcing her to turn his way, to face him. Lowering his face to hers, his voice was strained, rough, pleading. "I want to see you.. Let me see you, mesh'la." The word spilled from his lips with such ease, like a prayer, with so much delicacy, so much practice, as he brushed his nose against hers, his eyes fluttering shut. His lips hovered just an inch above hers, feeling the warmth of her breath against his skin.

He had dreamt of this day, every night, every day. For. So. Many. Years.

He had dreamt of lifting her into his arms, of kissing her, of crying with her, of pushing her against his bed, leaning on top of her, making love to her. 

For so many kriffing years.

She's alive.

"I missed you. So. Kriffing. Much." He muttered, his voice becoming more strained with each oncoming word, his eyes squeezed shut, his forehead flush against your own as he fought every fibre in his body against the awful, suffocating need to kiss you. Another pained whimper left your lips, unknowingly acting as a trigger for his next movements.

His lips crashed against your own, his hands keeping your face steady, making sure you wouldn't slip away like the hundreds, no, thousands of dreams he's had before.

Your lips were as soft as he remembered, your touch featherlight and rough. Your hands were shaking, he noted. You were afraid. Afraid of him? You wouldn't be kissing back if that was the case.

Your scent overwhelmed him, it was that faint smell of peach shampoo that he loved so much, it was making his knees weak. Where did you manage to get that from? From the state of you, he was sure you were dying for a hot, bubbly bath. Maybe it was just his imagination playing up. Kissing you, it was addicting. He was like a starved man, pushing his lips against your own, his tongue slipping past to dance with yours in a sweet Waltz, full of grief and hope and longing and all the years wasted away by your separation, by his fear of your light having been snuffed out, like a flickering flame.

You were his light in the dark, his oasis in a never-ending dessert, his midsummer night's dream. You had that spark in you - the one that attracted individuals to you like moths to light. Your laugh, so easily evoked, and your kind smiles, so easily graced upon anyone and everyone, shining down like sunshine on a dewy, autumn morning. You were a breath of fresh air, but also a crackling, comforting fire on a cold winters night.

But he had lost you just so quickly, on that day. Never knowing, for years, if you'd be back. If you were alive.

Your touch slowly grew from soft, dissipated like cotton-candy and falling snowflakes, to eager, pleading for more as your fingers found solace in his slightly outgrown blonde hair, encasing his head in your embrace, pulling him closer as you kissed feverishly, afraid he will disappear like dandelion seeds on a spring day.

You couldn't hear anything but his heartbeat, you couldn't smell anything but his scent, one that had creeped up on you and wrapped around you in an invisible embrace, the smell of freshly cut grass and smoky campfires entrapping you. You couldn't feel anything but him. His hands, always so much bigger than yours, had completely and utterly gotten control over your body, feeling and caressing your hair, gripping your chin and pulling you closer by your waist, his lips hot against your own, his breathing stuttering and yet so laboured as his teeth clashed against your own, his eyes scrunched shut - afraid you would disappear.

Being held in his arms was like a dream come true. You could spend an eternity with him, never losing your love and affection for the soldier standing before you. His warmth planted butterflies in your stomach, and his touch ignited them, making them burn wildly in your gut, scalding and yet patching over the old scars and wounds, gently embracing your heart in a healing bandage.

Only Rex could do such a thing. 

Only Rex could make your heart beat faster, only Rex could have adrenaline pumping through your veins just by a featherlight touch, or a sweet, candy-like, tooth-rotting whisper, or a longing, loving gaze of his golden irises and lush eyelashes.

So lost in each other, for so long, neither the two of you broke contact, until Hunter had to clear his throat awkwardly and speak up to make the two of you slowly, unwillingly, pull apart. 

Rex's forehead rested against yours, crows feet tugging at the outer corners of his eyes, his lips slightly agape as he tried to calm down the galloping of his heart. 

Slowly, eventually, his eyes opened again, the familiar warm colour of honey swirling around his pupils as he gazed into your eyes, a small, pained, and yet happy smile overtaking his features. His heart melted as that same smile reflected on your face, and tears brimmed in your eyes.

"Are you guys done yet?" Crosshair's voice called from a short distance, disgust and yet somehow a hint of endearment present in it.

"You lot go ahead, we'll catch up in a minute," Rex tossed the words over his shoulder with little to no care, rolling his eyes at the loud scoff that came from Crosshair. It was quickly followed by an audible smack, an 'Ouch', and the sound of retreating footsteps.

Your shoulders shook as a breathy laugh escaped you, and as you shut your eyes once more, tears began to escape one by one, sliding down the expanse of your cheek. Rex wasted no time in bringing a hand to gently wipe away at your tears, his own tears tickling at his waterline. 

He missed you so damn much.

And finally, you were here, with him, crying and smiling in his arms.

His throat felt tight, as if someone was strangling him, daring him to say anything. His chest felt heavy, and he was sure if he was stood up any longer, he would simply collapse. 

His thumb caressed the soft, and yet ragged, skin on your cheek, the corners of his lips twisted into a semi-frown, his heart hurting, blood pumping loudly in his ears.

His lips opened and closed, at a loss for words, but his voice found a way to come through.

"You have n-no idea," His voice was just above a mere whisper, afraid if he were to speak any louder, you'd crumble away under his touch, or he'd wake up. 

His thumb moved to trace the outline of your scar, a loving look present in the golden pool of his irises.

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you.."

[ilovejeongintoo]

𝔾𝕒𝕫𝕖 𝕆𝕗 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕖

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Fantasy, Gorgon Hongjoong x Reader, Magic Academy Au Warnings: sex p in v, bruising(don't worry), venom/aphrodisiac, a little of blood(bite), begging, teasing kinda? Wordcount: 5029 Not proofread

Serpent Hybrid Honjoong would actually be so hot, I can't breathe. Also inspired by Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

Summary: The magic school you go to has many secrets and students start disappearing again, but when you're friend also suddenly turns into thin air, you decide to find her yourself, one of the secrets is closer than you could have ever imagined.

"Did you hear?, it happened again."

"This is the third student this month."

"Aren't the teachers gonna do anything."

No, they won't, they never have. In all the years that you've been training to be a wizard, no one did anything against the mysterious disappearances happening in this school. And you doubt anyone ever will.

Every year, when the snow started to build a thick layer onto the gras outside and the days started becoming shorter, at night students went missing, one by one. And every time, not a single teacher would investigate further, you doubt that they even told the parents about the fate that their children would suffer.

It wasn't like they'd disappear forever, they would return one day, out of the blue. But not the same, they had a blank expression, as if the life was sucked out of them. And they would mutter about strange, unintelligible things.

This was seriously getting out of hand, you'd never know who would be next, maybe it was that nerdy girl in potions class, or that stupid jock that sat way too close with his sweaty self.

Or maybe you.

You closed your locker in frustration, swiftly heading off to your next class. You were not in the mood to listen to any of this nonsense anymore, the upcoming exams had you on your feet already, there wasn't any need for more stress on your end.

You were sat at your desk, patiently waiting for your friend to show up. But she wouldn't show, not even when the teacher arrived, or 10 minutes into the lesson. Maybe she just forgot to tell you that she wouldn't be coming.

You tried focusing on your lessons, a weird feeling stirring in your gut. As you were packing your books, the runes teacher called out to you, a small old woman.

You quickly headed over to her, your bag over your shoulder. Your brows furrowed at the serious and kind of dim expression that her wrinkly face was painted in.

"Have you heard anything from your friend, Adeline?" "No, I haven't, why?" It wasn't rare for her to miss a class, especially not this one. Why was she so concerned?

"She wasn't at her after school studies, or any of the club activities." Now those she definitely never misses, as she actually likes those. That feeling in your stomach started feeling heavier and a clump in your throat started forming at the all the possibilities of where she was, or what could have happened.

"Her roommates also noticed her missing." How could you be the only person to not have noticed anything, you, you were her best friend for god’s sake. You broke out in a cool sweat; she couldn't be far. Hopefully.

You thanked the teacher for informing you, telling her you'd tell her if you find out anything about her whereabouts. This cannot be happening. Not to her, your mind kept making pictures of all the times at the academy, how you'd spend any moment with her.

The third student this month. It must be her. She was now one of the missing students, that were going to turn up again like brain dead zombies. No way you'd let that happen. Your steps began quickening, you stopped in front of a few students to ask them if they'd seen her. Never getting a positive answer or even a clue. You kept asking people around the school until someone said something that struck you.

"Oh yeah, the little one, saw her yesterday with…who was it?" They stopped to think, you were restless and grabbed them by the collar.

"Who? With whom was she?"

You looked like you'd start killing the poor student if they didn't tell you, pupils small and eyes wide. You needed to find her, as soon as possible. Your hold didn't let up until they got the answer out with a trembling stutter.

"Kim- Kim Hongjoong"

You let the go, the person catching their breath a little and hurrying off.

Kim Hongjoong, you weren't unfamiliar with the student. He was also going to be a graduate, you had never spoken with him before, but you sure as hell would now.

He was a little popular with his looks and charms. But right now, he might be one of the names that would land on your "to kill" list. If he had anything to do with your besties disappearance. You knew where to find him rather quickly, with asking the next person in your line of vision, a lot nicer than before, as to where he would be. His charms class was just about to end, and luckily for you the classroom was just a few halls down situated.

As soon as your eyes were sat on a familiar blonde hair you grabbed said person by the tie and slammed them into the next wall, fuck being patient, your friend was missing. The dude was definitely taken aback by the shocked expression and silver rimmed glasses that fell down his nose a little.

You got in his face, trying to intimidate him even if he was quite a bit taller.

"Where is she?" "Who?" He seemed genuinely confused, as if, he must be playing dumb on purpose.

"Adeline fucking Winters, where is she?" You gripped him tighter, not aware of the stares some student threw your guys' way. You were sure you must be choking this dude with the way you were holding him.

"Woah calm down- he tried prying your hands from his shirt-"I don't know what you mean." "You were the last person to seen with her, so, where.is.she?

Fed up with your pulling, he roughly yanked himself out of your grip, face now an angry expression at your accusing tone. "I got nothing to do with her vanishing if that's what you're insinuating."

"Fancy words from a kidnapper-" You stepped up to him again, wanting to close the distance again. "-or worse a murderer, huh, what did you do to her." You jabbed an accusing finger into his chest, not believing that he didn't know anything at all.

Before he could come up with what you were sure, was going to be another excuse, a teacher interrupted. She pulled you away at the aggressive look and most definitely clenched fists, trying to deescalate the situation.

You would not let that man rest, he knew something, he has to. So, you shouted, hoping that he would hear:" I'll find out what you're hiding!"

After an hour-long lecture from the principle for your behavior you were finally let off with a warning. They still wouldn't do anything to help you find your friend though, making some lame excuse that she might have just gone and needed some time alone. They clearly just wanted this subject off the table.

You wouldn't give up though. And you had a plan, one that would start with operation: "Observe Kim Hongjoong". You came to realize that the dude was as boring as the next one though, he just went to his classes, hung out with his weird group of friends and would then retire in his room. Nothing out of the ordinary. He must be playing it safe. As to not get found out. So that would mean, you needed to switch to the next phase of your plan: "Confront Kim Hongjoong". That step was a lot easier than you were thinking, as he himself paid you a visit in your potions class, snagging the seat next to you.

Making himself a little too comfortable in the seat, same uniform as any student here wore. A tie, dark coat and slacks matched with dress shoes and a white pristine shirt.

As the lesson began, he began whispering to you. "Look I don't know what happened to your friend." He had a sympathetic look to his face; you'd almost believe him.

Almost.

"I know that you have something to do with this." It was more of a feeling than anything, he was either lying or just not telling you the whole truth, you were guessing it's more likely the first option. You turned to him, laying your fountain pen down and stared him down. Right in those deep eyes of his.

"And when I find out what you're hiding, everyone will know." Just then the bell rung, which made you snatch the book and supplies of yours into your arms and speed walking away from him. Being near him made it almost hard to breathe, he was a lot more imposing than you first realized.

You didn't even put away your books, heading straight to the library. Because maybe you hadn't found out where your friend was now, but you did manage to catch something.

His eyes. The moment you looked into them, for a split second, so fast that anyone could miss it, they changed. Yes, maybe you were actually going crazy…but if not, this could help find Adeline, Addy, your friend. You started missing her more and more over the passing days, praying that she was okay at the least.

For what reason would Hongjoong need someone to disappear? To kill them? To sacrifice them? God, he just a kid like you though. But those eyes weren't, they looked cold, like pure ice that sank into the depths of a deep-frozen lake.

You decided just looking at all the books in the library would take way too long, the room was practically the size of a mansion. You started looking through a few ritual books, nothing. Looking into some records of the school, nothing. No missing people, no records at all, even though this was a phenomenon that had been going on since your first year here. Someone must be covering this whole thing up, or something.

The tag for the forbidden section caught your eye, looking back to see if the librarian had their eyes on you, you slipped through the wooden door. It was left unlocked, well not willingly as some students broke the lock and the school decided the cost wasn't worth fixing. It was pretty dark in here, as you choose to keep the lights off. Noone needed to know you were in here, or the next lecture with the principal wouldn’t just end with a warning.

You looked through a few books, they were sometimes in a language you couldn't read or barely understood. A dark cover in the corner caught your eye, you reached for it and blew the dust on the top off it a bit. It uncovered the title "Legendarum Magicus". That almost sounded like a childrens book for magic legends. You flipped it open nonetheless, it didn't have an author and the writing, it wasn't printed, it seemed to be handwritten, each page of it.

And all the texts, they were all about this school. Hidden stories about the weird creaking in the abandoned girl’s bathroom. The hidden cellar in the school, which was supposedly home to mysterious caged creatures. What made your hand stop turning pages was when the book spoke about the missing students, or more importantly, the cause of it.

As you read through it with your phone as a light. Each paragraph you read, made your hand tighten and shake against the book until you closed it with a slam. A noise way too loud for anyone not to hear. As soon as you heard the familiar squeak of the librarian chair you ran out, slipping the book into your bag and hiding behind a pillar as to not get caught. When the coast was clear you headed to the stairs you just wanted to go to your room now, too exhausted and tensed with all the new things you learned from the book. And about the infamous Kim Honjoong.

Your eyes closed your eyes trying to keep the headache you managed to sport away. And at last made you fall asleep, bag still clutched to your body.

The next day phase three your plan would step into action: "Confronting Hongjoong and getting Adeline back". You had no idea how you'd do that but just in case of something happening, you packed a special little object with you.

Hongjoong must have some kind of unnatural for feeling when you needed to talk to him because he came up to you again, just before class was going to start.

"Hey, I just wanted to make sure, that you know I-" He gestured to himself, and you cut him off, not planning on listening to more of his lies.

"I know your secret Hongjoong." That sure got him to be quiet quick. He looked calm from the outside, but once again, those eyes said more than anything on that pretty face. The Frames didn't hide the icy expression, his eyes seemed to get deeper now you felt like you were drowning in that cold, frozen over lake. That same restricting feeling on your chest.

You managed to get it out though, in a barely there voice.

"I know what you are."

At that he abruptly grabbed your hand and began pulling you away from the classroom, not planning on partaking in the lesson. Your and his steps were the only things that could be heard in the empty hallway. Would he take you to where the others were now? You didn't feel that good about going there alone, wherever "there" was. His steps were quick and long and the rooms that you passed were a big, connected blur.

You stepped down several stairways, they all went further and further down. And then he stepped through doors until you were in the common bath, he pulled you in and then let go.

He stepped around the huge bath going for where the multiple faucets that were used for it were. He turned a few, seemingly in a specific order and when he stepped back from them a buzz rang through the room. An opening in the wall opened, the wall sliding from it former place like a normal door, yet this was anything but normal.

He walked through the hole, stopping and turning to you. "If you wanna know where your little friend is now, you ought to follow me."

Was this smart? Absolutely not. Were you going to do it regardless?

Yes.

You knew what this path led to, his lair. Where he trapped his victims. His eyes seemed to glow a green in the dark of the tunnel and he continued walking ahead, knowing that you'd follow.

When the tunnel opened up again it was into a big room. Water pouring from a lot of places in the ceiling and disappearing into nothingness. Big stone pathways were decorated with big statues on each side making it look like a big ominous walkway, headed straight to a statue in the front. All depicted the same animal, a serpent. That made your heart beat a little faster, your hands tremble a little more and you turned your bag a little more to you, for easier access. Hongjoong took off his coat, throwing it off into a corner. He loosened his tie and popped a few buttons open, before turning back to you.

"You know, your first one to figure it out." He said all friendliness and the desperate attempts of convincing you of his innocence were gone. Now before you stood the real Kim Hongjoong.

"You humans are usually so stupid and naive, quite easy to fool. But now, you show up, trying to play hero." He took slow steps to you, and you reached into your bag at the same tempo. Your heart began racing.

"Most of the times I just get a little bit of the energy of the magicians here, letting them walk away in a little daze and making them come back again if I’m in need of a little snack again." He continued on, explaining, not that you'd understand his situation.

"I think I'll make an exception for you though." He closed in on you just as you had done the first day you confronted him. You pulled out the round object that you took with you, a mirror. You looked away as well, not wanting to be affected with whatever he was trying to pull on you.

If the book was correct, what stood before you wasn't a human. It was the embodiment of medusa, the curse holder of the gaze of stone, a gorgon. He was a living myth, inhabiting the dark underground of this Academy. Feasting on his prey. He turned away with a yell, stopped by the reflective surface in your hand.

"Smart little thing, aren't you?" You heard him speak, not willing to give him an ounce of your eyesight. He wouldn't be able to catch you with his gaze.

"Yeah, that's right- you stood from your cowering position; mirror still held tightly in hand. "-so give me back my best friend and nothing will happen." You started looking for her in the room, not seeing anyone besides the two of you.

"Oh, but it will, now that you know, you don't expect to just walk away? Do you?"

"Oh, sweet thing, but she isn't even here." You felt a grip in your hand, making you turn your head regardless in shock. He turned your mirror away from him, gripping your wrist tighter until you let go and it shattered on the stone floor. You choose to just tightly close your eyes.

He stepped closer into your personal space, he dragged his one hand to your jaw, turning your head to him. "Look at me." It was a demand, a command to do as told or you'd suffer some serious repercussions.

You refused to give in, you wouldn't, for your friend. You felt his warm breath brush your face and then you felt a soft feeling against your lips, nonetheless, making you open your eyes. Which in turn made you gaze into his-now grey-eyes. You felt like you were afloat, in a daze, completely relaxed. Like you were on a high, it felt like when you used to make potions to fall asleep.

His blonde fluffy hair was starting to go out of focus a bit, your eyesight blurry. A hand cupped your cheek, now tilting your head to properly get you to look at him.

"Now Now, don't fall asleep, we're just getting started."

You didn't really hear his words, too out of it. The thing that you could focus on the most were those lips, that were now curved in a pretty smile. Your throat dried up a little at the notion of getting to feel those lips again, you leaned into him a little. You kissed up your cheek, in a motion way too sweet given the situation. You kept your eyes open now, intent on capturing all of his movements in your memories. You felt a little prick of him biting into your lower lip and right after you felt even more floaty, incredibly warm as well. As if you were coming down with a fever, Hongjoong's lips felt so cool in contrast now, which made you more the desperate to reconnect your lips each time. With each smack it seemed to cool you off, but your body began burning more.

You pulled him more into you, feeling the exposed part of his chest, just as cooling as the rest of him. You unbuttoned it more. "Eager, aren't we?" His voice seemed far away, but his touch wasn't as he got rid of your cloak and shirt just as fast.

His touch was soft but demanding not rushing at all, you however couldn't get enough fast enough. You pressed messy kisses along his neck, down his collar bone and chest, your hands finding their place on his pecs. You explored the expanse of his body, keeping your lips on his torso. You slipped your one hand down further his abdomen, now noticing a few scales scattered over the sides of his torso. You delicately traced his abs, being stopping by your head, when a hand pulled your head back by your hair. It forced you to make eye contact with the heavenly looking creature in front of you. "That's only for good ones, have you been good?"

You nodded, whatever would get you to feel more of him and satiate that ache deep inside you. To make the burning stop. Instead of letting you continue on, he completely pulled away.

The suddenness made you sink onto the cold stone floor. A whine escaped you in response, which, in any other situation would have embarrassed you. You couldn't pick your body off the ground, way too weak, your bones felt like they were made out of pudding. "Now tell me, who else might know that I'm the reason for the incidents happening on these grounds? Any friends you like to gossip to?" He tapped your chin to get you to look at him, noticing how it sunk at the relaxed feelings of your body.

You couldn't even understand him, the question hadn't registered at all in your mushed up brain. So, he repeated himself now sounding a lot more serious though.

You tried thinking back, no one, you hadn't told anyone about this escapade of yours, or even that you had the slightest idea of who could be behind the kidnapped students. That shook you awake a little, you were here for someone, for your best friend.

You didn't know which answer would make you come out of this alive, so you stuck with the truth. Instantly a a big smile formed on his face, eyes crinkling a bit and fangs showing. Fangs that you managed to only notice now.

"What do you want with them? You don't eat them, so what do you do to them?" Your weakened voice questioned. Hongjoongs one eyebrow raised in surprise at the fact that your head was starting to clear up again. That wasn't part of his plan in bringing you here. He supposed he could tell you, not that you'd remember any of this after, just like the others.

"But that's where you're wrong, I do eat them, partially. I take away that delicious spiritual energy, it doesn't kill you. But can you really call that living? You saw, they're empty husks after."

He enjoyed the wide-eyed look on your face, now just realizing what real danger you were facing. It was crazy how nonchalant he was about all of this. He kept his non-threatening facade for now, and then when you would least expect it, he'd wrap himself around you, just like a viper.

"No, please-uh not my friend please." Aww how cute, you were really worried about someone else right now?

You really were naïve.

Following him down here, trusting his words of giving up your mortal friend. He enjoyed seeing you beg, especially on your knees on the floor. It gave him even more of a power trip than he was already having.

The tears in your eyes, the disheveled state of your clothes and hair and God, the pink blush that was still left on your cheeks from before. He was barely keeping himself under control. Maybe he could make an exception, just this once.

"Alright, I’ll let your friend go, hell I'll even stop taking students, for a price of course."

Okay, this was your only chance to save her. You'd do whatever it took to know that she was alive and still the one that you spent all this time with, in all those years.

You were still looking up at him with those big eyes, in hope. That he would keep his words. "If I can’t feed on those friends of yours, you'll just have to quench my hunger."

Die? Was he really asking you to die? To sacrifice yourself? You were shaking, you were going to be one of those lifeless husks, roaming the halls until you graduated. Only God knows how your life would continue after.

You supposed you didn't have any other choice, if this was really the only way, there’s no way you could walk away and live with the guilt. If Hongjoong would even let you leave.

"Alright, I'll do it, but you have to let them go." He moved towards you at that, with each step your shoulders shook more in fear of what was about to happen to you. You were praying for it to at least not be painful. You closed your eyes in preparation of his next move.

Directly in front of you again he ran his fingers down, along your cheek. Going down and over your neck, feeling your pulse and staying there. The smell of your fear was already feeding him more than you'd ever know, but he wouldn't just stop without having an actual taste of you.

He leaned in, those same plush lips brushed over your neck and then slightly exposed shoulder. Your shirt had ridden down quite a bit, some buttons opened. You could feel his long tongue occasionally trace a few lines along the expanse of your shoulder, but he bit in, just slightly.

Your taste was heavenly, reminding him of his favorite pastry. He needed to keep you alive so that his now favorite snack would never leave him.

That made you wince; this would be it. His tongue went over the small holes that were left behind in a soothing touch. You started feeling dazed even more, more than before. His venom that must have been it before as well. Now that it was more and deeper it worked so much stronger. The heat was actually unbearable now, you began taking your top clothes off in a fruitless attempt to feel cooler.

Searching for some coolness your hands met Hongjoongs skin again wrapping yourself around him to get your naked upper body flush against him. His went around to hold your waist, quickly slipping down to push your skirt and panties off in one move. If your blood tasted that good, in between your legs would actually make him ascend to heaven. Usually, he wouldn't drain his victims like this, not at all.

He pushed you to lay on the floor, on your back. He followed right behind, settling himself between your legs. Eyes going for the space in between your legs, which was a sight for sore fucking eyes. So wet, from just a little kissing and his venom. And those tits, that he hadn't appreciated until now, he really should have. Everything about you was screaming to be consumed, he wonders if he was the one lured and not you.

He wasn't any better than you though, his dick leaking pre-cum and coating his underwear maybe even his slacks. He made quick work of both, just as impatient as you. Your hands kept going over him, caressing any space you could find. His hands found the back of your thighs folding them up to have you spread out even more for him, the position had him licking his lips. He lined himself up against your pulsing hole, that was clearly eager to be filled.

No foreplay at all he pushed in slowly to not hurt you anymore than necessary to get himself sheathed inside of you. He rubbed your clit to alleviate some of the pain that followed with his push. You barely even registered the pain, grabbing him by the nape and pulling him down into a kiss.

The moment he moved his hips back and forth you were seeing stars, your senses seemed so dimmed but your touch receptor and nerves were heightened. The pleasure was ten fold, the slide got wetter and wetter with each passing thrust. The groaning and moaning from each of you growing louder and rawer. You pulled back to catch a breath from the kiss, your head was thrown back at a particular deep and calculated thrust.

You looked down to see where you two were connected, the sight straight out of a porn, your wetness leaking all over Honjoong and yourself. And you could clearly see some sticky precum pulling strands and connecting the skin.

It was so hot, so sensual and dirty. The wetness provided the right slide for when your clit would make contact with Honjoongs pubic bone, grinding against it. Your climax was approaching way faster than any time before in your life, faster than when your favorite toy was hitting all those spots inside you, deeper than your fingers ever hoped to reach. The pleasure felt unreal.

The same was for him, he was so out of breath. The squelching from your pussy and your wet and warm walls made such a deadly combination. It felt as if no time at all passed, you hit your highs that fast, with Hongjoong curling over your body and pushing your legs a little further up. And you gripping onto his back for dear life, your body working overtime with all the sensations and pleasure coursing through you. Little lightning bolts making you flinch a little in sensitivity.

The only thing heard in the big room was the harsh breathing that escaped the both of you, having you stay in position for quite a while, until he separated the two of you.

His cock leaving you empty but that heat also slowly dissipating. You stayed laying on the floor until you felt some fabric being placed around you, like a blanket. Opening your eyes, it was Honjoongs coat your body disconnected from the uncomfortable floor and was lifted into his strong arms.

He didn't walk in the direction of the exit, he walked further in, it kept getting darker and darker making sleepier. His grip tightened in realization of you starting to doze off. In spite of the clear danger holding you, you felt yourself surrendering to the sweet sensation of sleep. He felt himself smile a little at the adorable sight and now he would have more than enough times to enjoy that over and over again.

A deal is a deal after all.