#yes they're on the table in the library

[wolveragrace]

Dancing through life, Swaying and sweeping~

[eyrieofsynapses]

you know, I've come to expect people blasting their music/tiktoks/whatever in most public spaces. I absolutely hate it, but I kind of expect it. but in the corner of the public library? the quiet top floor of the fucking library? the public space that is RENOWNED for being a place where you are supposed to be quiet and people usually speak in whispers and there are whole scenes of movies and shows where the librarian gets annoyed by characters talking too loudly? and you're going to blast your shit so loud my noise-cancelling headphones and my speech-blocker white noise machine can't shut you out?

and not to mention there are two people fucking doing this???

anyway the rise of personal devices containing speakers that can be used to play loud sounds was a Severe Mistake. or we need to put every person in mandatory "how to respect others" classes every six months. possibly both. whatever

[grison-in-space]

Has Biden actually done anything at all? There's evidence going around and I think it's compelling, the alternate to voting is instead doing actual social work and participating in protests and organizing political action, which is a good idea i think

1) Yes. Inarguably this has been the most effective progressive domestic administration since I have been alive, and I'm in my thirties. What in the fuck are you talking about? It's not perfect, but it's better than we've seen in fifty years: Obama tried, but Democratic Congressional organization was just not yet used to working with a completely obstructionist GOP Congress in the wake of the tea party.

Even in terms of foreign policy, this is also pretty much as good as US involvement gets. Sorry. Our foreign policy has been shaped by monsters for decades, and that's even without dealing with our huge and active branch of Christian doom cultists. There ain't a candidate in the world that could stop the entire accumulated momentum of geopolitics with a snap of the finger, and I'm not really willing to pretend that Biden is particularly notable for not managing to fix Israel/Palestine relations.

2) In your own words, anon, what precisely does organizing political action entail without participating in the political process? Do you think that abstaining from the part of the gig where you, the citizen, get to say which official gets the job somehow makes your opinions matter more to your elected public officials? Have you ever organized to get so much as a municipal one-time library project budget expanded? Are you perhaps only skilled at political argument with people who already agree with you on the Internet?

What is your leverage, and could it reasonably be described as "extortion" or "blackmail" or "political corruption?" Because those are pretty much the only things on the table that can work more effectively to drive an elected official than a disciplined coalition of political allies (who can be purchased with, you guessed it, votes) or a reliable bloc of voter support. Your vote matters less than the ones you bring with you, sure. Do you think that not voting yourself somehow helps people organize to drive more votes? Have you perhaps replaced your complex reasoning skills with a rapidly dying jellyfish?

3) Holy passive vagueness, Batman! "Evidence is going around." What a masterpiece of a sentence! How it suggests everything while providing nothing! What evidence? Who collected it? Who is talking about the evidence "going around?" Who is listening? How many of them are there? What did they think before? The more I think, the more questions I have, and damn if they ain't predisposing me to be even less charitable.

Like, this is so catastrophically poorly supported that I have to confess that I not only believe this is probably an ask in bad faith (i.e. by someone who is expecting to piss me off or otherwise engage with me adversarially, probably spammed to a whole host of blogs at once with no expectation of response) but I actively hope that it is. The alternative is to have to grapple with the reality that some people are so uncomfortable with the responsibility of moral agency that they're willing to release useful levers of legal and social power just so that they never do anything problematic with that power. Much better, of course, to wash one's hands of anything that might have the stink of responsibility clinging to it. Might fall from the membership of the Elect if you actually get yourself all muddy by doing things, I reckon.

I don't even believe that voting is the only lever we have when it comes to our elected officials or that votes are necessary to secure change, and I am certainly not talking about the presidential ticket alone when I talk voting. What I do believe is two things: one, that voting is a potential lever of power on the emergent chaos of the society in which we live. And two, that anyone telling me to leave a lever of power on the ground without a damn good reason is either incompetent, malicious, or both.

[rhadamanthes]

nerd!reader x fratboy!eren

warnings : cliche cliche cliche Eren calls reader nerd a lot so be prepared, reader wear glasses, unprotected sex, fingering, blowjob lot of kisses, praise, doggy style, missionary, boob play, minimal use of y/n

word count : 6,5k

You hate working with men, especially in group projects. They're unserious and careless if it was up to you, you'd rather be doing this work alone but the teacher denied your request to your great demise. Through your years of college you successfully avoid being paired with slackers and frat boys. Today you are now seated next to Eren Jaeger, the ultimate form of a frat beast. You guess this is the end of your lucky run. 

The said boy is whisper-yelling in the receiver of his phone earning angry glances from the other student in the library... Has he no etiquette about the appropriate behavior in these places ? Taking off your glasses, you massage your temple, eyes closed, face facing your desk. It's only been a few days since you started this project but you feel like you've been at it for months. The end of the semester approaching means everyone is busy. You had a hard time scheduling this work session with Eren and he's on the phone ? You can't open your eyes now because you know you want to cry. 

"Sorry about this" he interrupts your train of thoughts "It's like no one knows how to organize a party when I'm not around" he jokes, opening your eyes you just stare at him with a blank expression. A party ? You're not even halfway through this project due in twelve days and he's thinking about a party ?

"I gotta go, but after the party I'll get to work and send you my part, deal ?"

"You're telling me that you're going to get drunk tonight, analyze the market we are launching our product in and create an adequate publicity?" you ask in disbelief.

"Yes" a smirk grows on his face, picking up your glasses from the wooden table, he positions them in front of his own eyes, without wearing them he looks around the room through the frame. "You know, it's not because you're a nerd with a strict working method that everyone has to follow them" he mokes, eyes falling back on you, the glasses make his eyes look slightly bigger in another context you may have smiled at that but right now you're just pissed. You open your mouth to snap back at him but he places a finger on your lips 

"Keep it down this is a library" oh you want to kill him now, the audacity stuns you in your seat. "Listen, I'm in the same class as you, yeah ? Means I am not completely stupid, just trust your teammate ok?" he smiles, sliding your glasses on your nose until his finger comes in contact with the skin between your eyebrows. Without another word he pats the top of your head, turning his heels to make his way to the library exit.

What the fuck ? 

A long exhale  escapes your lips as you slide back in your chair, well... your mood is ruined you cannot get another word down. gathering your stuff you shove them in your bags, following the same direction your partner took a few minutes ago. 

The soft breeze hits your cheeks and your pressure lowers a little, you should take breaks more often, this feels nice. The smell of nicotine hits you and you take a long whiff, god you would love a cigarette right now maybe you can borrow one to the person ? Turning your head toward the source of your desire, here stands no other than Eren. Life is really cruel to you these days. His emerald eyes catch yours and a smile curls around the butt of the cigarette. Snapping your head back, you speed walk toward the dorm, you swear you heard him laugh behind you. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Against all expectation Eren did send his part after the party. It didn't meet your expectations but you're seeing him again today so you'll suggest the modification and smooth it over so it looks like an actual group project and not a patchwork of personal pieces. Eren invited you to his place to continue working, originally he wanted to work at yours but you said no, you wouldn't want his presence in your personal space, it's too intimate and the way he behave like an elephant in a china shop the other days makes you sweat just by thinking of him in your own apartment. 

Standing in front of the main door of the two story house you take a deep breath before knocking twice. An unfamiliar face greets you and you're wondering if you had the wrong address, scrambling to apologize you're about to leave when you hear Eren's voice in the back

"Connie, is that my nerd ?"  The man in front of you, which you assume is Connie, tilts his head to the side, looking you from head to toe. You clutch your books tighter against your chest in embarrassment. 

"Looks like it" 

"Come on in " Eren's face appears behind the bald man and you step in the house "Just take off your shoes man" Eren says, squeezing your shoulder. Barely two words in and you're already tense. Why is he so comfortable with physical touch and stupid names? 

Nevertheless you oblige, toeing off your converse.  You hear a stream of foreign voices coming from your right, following the noises you fall face to face with a group of boys playing mario kart, laughing and screaming at each other. This cannot be real you think, feeling your arms weaken a bit.

"Eren ! If you were busy you should have told me I would've come another day." 

"No, that's fine! The boys are here but I'm taking you upstairs, it's where my desk at" he says, sliding his hand over your shoulder, looking down at you. He's close, maybe too much but you don't have it in you to fight, you can feel the warmth of his body despite your clothes. Holding his gaze you only notice now that his hair is down, fully down not half up like he wears so often his dark locks frame his face cascading on his broad shoulders. He is pretty, very pretty, your cheeks heat up a bit, you're about to change subject to get your mind off  your stupid thoughts when a voice interrupts you.

"No foolishness upstairs yeah ?" Connie giggles looking back at the two of you, controller in hand.

"Worry about yourself bro being 11th against Floch is stupid" he smirks earning a fit of laughter from the rest of the group. Hand still around your shoulder he leads you up the stairs.

His room is cleaner and tidier than you expected but you're relieved, Placing your book and laptop on his desk you start to organize your thoughts, you have a lot to do today if you want to be ready by next week.

"I've read what you sent me. It is pretty good but I would like to circle back on a few points with you if that's ok ?" you ask, taking place in one of the chairs facing the desk. 

"Sure thing, that's why we're here for" he smiles, scraping the chair against the floor in order to sit on it.  The screeching noise making your brow furrow, everything about him is so... intense.

The session goes smoothly, Eren is way more focused then back in the library. Maybe he just needs to be in a place he is familiar with to be productive ? Sure he would run downstairs whenever the boys cheered loudly to see what it was about, blow the smoke of his juul straight in your face, stretch and groan like he spent the last decade tied up to this chair. But as long as the work is done you don't think you mind anymore. 

"So I'll take care of the visual presentation, next time we see each other we could do a rehearsal of the oral presentation ? What do you think ?" you ask gathering your belongings 

"I think we are going to rock this shit" he says, holding up his hand in the air. He's he expecting a high five like you guys are some sort of football team ? You stare at his palm. "Come oooon loosen up little nerd we did such a good job today" he waves his hands and you dap it quickly, shaking your head left to right a small smile growing on your lips. You stand up and he walks you downstairs.

The group of boys sitting on the couch is smaller, no more Connie in sight, you don't recognize a single face. 

"Want to stay for dinner ?" 

"No I gotta get back home but thanks for the invite"

"Right, go back before the sun goes down and the wolf gets you" he laughs, grabbing your forearm when you lose balance putting your shoes back on. 

"Funny guy" you roll your eyes looking up at him. Behind Eren are two silhouettes, two boys that look like twins except one is slightly taller than the other, they still look very similar, upturned nose and slick hair pushed back. They are watching the interaction with curious eyes before whispering to each other. Right, the biggest gossips you know are actually men. 

"Don't take everything so personally it was just a joke"

"I know, it was just lame" it's your turn to laugh now, his eyes crinkle letting your forearm go, he opens the door for you.

"Well, see you around i guess" you nod your head stepping out, Eren sends a wink your way before closing the door shut in a forceful manner.... as always. 

Walking into the evening sun you still feel the shadow of his touch on your arm, goosebumps raise on your skin and you shove the thought in the back of your head, sliding your airpods in. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

The presentation is in two days, you booked one of the private rooms of the library to have a proper rehearsal but something is missing.. Eren is missing, and now you're about to lose your reservation.

"You know the rules, private rooms can not be booked for a single person so I think you have to go" the girl with ashy gray hair says with a fake nice smile. 

"Yeah and that's pretty selfish to do, you know ?" the one with the black pigtails add

"I'm telling you my partner is on his way. I'm not hogging this room for myself and I'm not selfish. I booked it!"

You are starting to lose your patience. They've been trying to kick you out of the room  for the past five minutes. A familiar silhouette snakes its way to the room and your shoulder relaxes. 

"Mina, Hitch" his honeyed voice interrupts.

Both girls turn around and squeals greetings once they realise who it is. He gives each of them  a quick side hug, cheeks pressing together  "Oh my god Eren i didn't know the room was for you"  You mentally check out after that sentence, their smile seems genuine now and you laugh to yourself. So all it takes for them to act normal is a popular boy ? noted for the next time you want to book a private room. Their conversation digresses to something else and you interrupt them, having lost enough time as it is.

"Eren ? Can we get to work please ?" You can't see his eyes because he's wearing sunglasses... indoors but by now you shouldn't even be shocked at this point, his head turns your way.

"Duty call ladies, but it was nice to see you" he flashes them a million dollar smile guiding them out of the room with hands on their lower back. Minna and Hitch turn around saying their goodbye as they speed walk out of the library, arms linked with one another and hushed whispers. 

Seated across from you, Eren hasn't taken off his glasses yet and now that he is close, the faint smell of weed gets to you. 

"Are you high ?" you ask, clinging to your last hopes. No answer comes from him but the cheshire smile he gives you makes you slump in your seat. "Eren! Is this why you're late ? I almost got kicked out because of you!" you try to keep your tone steady but you fail, voice pitching higher than usual.

"It's not the reason I'm late but yes I smoked." He says finally taking off the shades from his eyes, they're red, making the emerald color of his irises pop out. You won't admit it but... he looks good like that. His hair is fully tied back today, making it impossible to escape his powerful gaze. "And there's no way they would have managed to get you out, you looked ferocious with your eyebrow tight. Mina and Hitch are all bark, no bite. " he snickers, digging his laptop out of his bag. 

You don't give him credit for his attempt at loosening up the atmosphere, connecting your laptop to the monitor. The fake presentation goes fairly well, Eren seems distracted, staring at you when he's supposed to be reading his parts. You would throw a pen his way to make him snap out of it, posture straightening up he would continue the flow of speech in such a natural way, eyes still never leaving yours. His gaze is hard to maintain so you would often nod your head, looking down at the powerpoint. Everytime you look back up a smirk was displayed on his face. 

After a few more repetitions you decide that you're ready for the real presentation. Eren is waiting for you at the door, bag swinged over his shoulder displaying his beefy arm. You trot up to him so he doesn't have to wait longer. Once outside of the library he's ready to part way  but you hold onto his biceps, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"Eren please don't smoke before the oral presentation on friday" you must sound pathetic but you don't care you'll probably never speak to him after this project is over. You can see that he is holding back a smile before he opens his mouth.

"You worry way too much my little nerd." Eren leans in for a hug, the same type he gave the two girls earlier, but he lingers a bit longer, his large hand rubbing your back.the embrace is somehow reassuring you take a deep breath patting his back, you choose to believe him if this goes south for any reason you'll give your all in the other discipline to compensate. 

"See ? you can actually relax when you want to" he smirks putting his sunglasses back on.

You roll your eyes adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder "Bye" you turn around. 

Walking toward the dorms you think about Eren, usually his touch would irritate you, him being so casual with everyone and anything drives you crazy. But today after you saw him being sweet to those girls, you are glad he hugged you too... and the way he refers to you as his nerd is kind of cute. A long exhale escapes your lips : remember that everything will be over after friday. Maybe it's for the better, this way you won't get the wrong idea. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Presentation went well ! The transitions were smooth and the questions asked by the other classmates at the end allowed you to prove your work was not surface level but well rounded and constructed on serious work of research. You had to literally step on eren toes when he would space out, throwing any supply at him is not possible since  you were in presence of the entire class and not the privacy of the study room. Other than that, no bumps. It is a huge weight off your back 

The oral exam being done also means that you are officially free from any academic pressure... until next semester but still ! You can take time to relax now.  And it is exactly what you're doing, sitting on a bench you are catching up on your personal reading that you put aside due to the amount of deadline you were meeting. The three above you provide the perfect amount of shade while you still enjoy the warm breeze of the afternoon. A smile grows on your face as you read more and more of the eternal husband. It's not the book that makes you smile but the simple fact you are able to read it.

Your bliss is cut short when you feel a heavy weight on your foot, ready to brawl you put your book down with vigour. 

"It's only payback don't look at me like that" Eren of course it's him "Plus you got out of the classroom at lightning speed i might have thought the last weeks were a fever dream you disappear so quickly" 

"I stepped on your toes because you were just staring at me. It was your time to speak! And i left because i had things to do" 

"And I was staring because you missed a part of your speech it isn't like you you know ? that's why i was shocked"

"Wait ? I did ? " You mentally replay the whole scene and can't seem to find a crack in it.

"It is so easy to mess with your mind my little nerd" Eren says ruffling your hair while a laugh makes his shoulder shake. You push his hands vigorously.

"Don't joke about this, I'm serious! " 

"Soo tense, you know what you need ? To relax, to live a little" 

"I was relaxing before you tried to amputate my foot," you said, grabbing your book to emphasize your words.

"Oh come on you can't be serious we just finished exams and you're dipping your nose in that russian freak story ?"

"To each their own" you say opening it back to resume your reading but a thought crosses your mind "What do you do to relax" abandoning the printed pages to look back at him. You immediately regret your question as a devilish smirk grows on his face. 

"Would you like to know ? Or better I could show you" Eren says, picking up a leaf that has fallen in your hair, his finger traveling down so he can tilt your chin up. "Come by my place tonight ?"

"You're having a party ?" you ask sheepishly. That is why is known for on campus, parties, girls dying for him to notice them and his amazing athletic performances. You never went to one of his famous parties nor his games. Not your cup of tea but still, you were curious about it. Eren eyes are blank for a moment, fingers caressing your chin. "Yeah, something like that, so are you coming ? To have a proper end to this collaboration."  

A last goodbye huh ?  If his parties hold up to their reputation you probably won't even see him tonight due to the amount of people that would be present, and you doubt he will come to find you out of all people. You would be lying if you said a part of you doesn't want to go to his house, see what the fuss is all about... You will only stay so many years in college fuck it. "Ok i'll be there" HIs face lights up "Can't wait then" Another million dollar smile sent your way and his trotting off god knows where on campus. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

The sun sets faster than you realise, it's time to get ready for tonight, you do not know what to wear, how to do your hair and makeup, walking back and forth between your closet and the full length mirror in your living room you can't decide which dress will make the cut. Mini black  backless dress or baby pink strappy dress ? Your mind tends to the black one, it's more casual you'll be more comfortable.  Oh my god shoes, what about shoes ? If you call Annie to ask her you know she'll hang up, sighing as you rummage through your tiny shoe storage. The dress is black you might go for black shoes as well. strappy black heels they're toe open, a quick glance at your feet and you can see that your nail polish is still intact. Well looks like you got an outfit. 

Opting for a light make up you made a wing eyeliner (surprisingly fast, given the fact that you didn't wear makeup for a longtime due to your exam ) , lip gloss, mascara blush and concealer to hide the bags you accumulated for the last few weeks. You smile at your reflection, it is good to see you this primed, you feel like you again. The glasses would spoil the look so you go for lenses tonight, and for your hair, you let them sits freely around your face and dow your back, the dress being backless would call for an updo but you're having a good hair day so screw it 

22:37 reads your phone about time to go. You're feeling a bit anxious but decide to ignore it.

You call an uber and soon enough the car pulls  up in the familiar driveway.  Thanking the driver as you make your way to the steps, the absence of noise from any kind strikes you, you would've thought that the famous parties at the Yeager house have bass loud enough to feel them in your chest.  

Before you have the time to process anymore thoughts, the door swings open revealing Eren, smiling ear to ear, looking at you up and down, his adam's apple bobs up. "Come on in" he says holding his hand out, you take it, climbing up the few stairs that separate the both of you.

"Where is everyone else ?" you ask, surprised to find the house empty. 

"They'll be here" he says leading you to the kitchen, hand on the small of your naked back "Tomorrow" he adds with a grin. 

"Eren!" 

"What ? If I told you tonight was just us would you still have come ? "  he asks, filling two cocktail glasses with a thick orange liquid.  Eren takes your absence of reaction as an answer. "It's just that we spent all this time together  and I never saw you anything other than stressed,  I couldn't imagine you going to a party to be honest" he snickers, dipping his lips in the colorful mixture as he slides the other glass your way against the kitchen island. "Look at you nerd,not wearing your glasses, dress and heels on, you look good like that ! "

"You deemed me a nerd because I wear glasses and read books" you grumble looking down at your glass, not picking up his comment on your appearance but it makes your insides mushy. 

"Not really, the first time we met you literally explain to me in details the lore of the dance of the dragons because you saw my Daenerys keychain" you close your eyes mortified by the memory "Don't be embarrassed that was fun ! " he hits your shoulder, laughing at your reaction. 

You remember it all too well, it was your second year of college, Eren sat next to you, the small classroom got cramped fast and he was late, beggars can't be choosers. It is true the pop Daenerys figure caught your attention and you made small talk and might got carried away but there's no harm in that or so you thought, guess you annoyed him pretty bad if he still remembers it to this day. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you turn your head right, a few days ago this is where his group of friends were playing mario kart, now that the space is empty you got a nice view of his living room.

"You have a fireplace ? Fancy" you remark 

"What you don't ?" 

"My humble student apartment doesn't allow this type of furniture"

"That is really sad, want me to put it on for you ?" you roll your eyes and he leads you once more around his house, cocktails in hands. 

Both of you are kneeling in front of the fireplace,resting on the fluffy white rug. Eren is filling its center with different sizes of wood sticks. You admire his arms flexing and stretching as he moves around. Tonight he is wearing a tight white shirt that highlights his toned body. His dark hair is fully down once more, the ends are a bit damp, making some spot on his shoulder see through, a grey jogger is covering his legs. Damn. He looks good wearing that. Once the branches are neatly placed he adds a fire starter and hands you a box of matches, the long type ones. 

"Do me the honour" he smiles, you return his expression, scratching the red tip against the rough side of the box and sticking it to the little white cube, the flame catches quickly and you squeak, retrieving your hand from the chimney. Eren claps at your side praising you in an obnoxious manner. "She did it!" and others exclamations as if you saved the world. You laugh at his antics, eyes fixated on the yellow and orange hues  that dance in front of you.

"Did you know that in ancient Rome everyone was peeing at the same place "latrines" with the strong concentration of ammonia in urine a single match would have been enough to blow the whole place up ?" you snort, thinking about the anecdote you learn in latin classes as the fire crackles in front of you. 

"No I didn't" you turn to him and he is wearing his signature teasing expression.  You know what is thinking already, you can almost hear his voice say it; nerd. Here you go ranting about random facts because you're hampered, and being alone with Eren at his house is the reason. At least you can blame the heat coursing through your body on the nearby fire. You take another sip from your cocktail. 

"Is that a sex on the beach ?" you ask to change the subject. Eren nods looking impressed that you know. "I was going to offer you a beer but I have the feeling you would like something more refined." 

"Nice catch, I don't like beer, but I have to say I didn't imagine you drinking cute cocktails."

"I'm a versatile guy, and I like to adapt to my guests." he smiles clinking your glasses with his before you both drink some more.  

The conversations flow easily with him, against all expectations you guys have a lot of common interests, video games, movies and music taste. You realize that maybe you have judged him as much as he did you. Eren is currently refilling both your glasses in the kitchen as you scroll through his vinyl collection. You asked for a soft drink, feeling like the alcohol and the warm waves that come from the fireplace would be the perfect combo lulling you to sleep. 

Your shoes are long forgotten by the fireplace, you are sitting on your ass, feet joint by your side. Eren slides back to your side  handing you your drink. Your thighs are flush against each other, the more you were talking through the night, the closer you got, literally. The fireplace gives his face a warm light, accentuating his features, his lips are moving but you cannot decipher a single word. He is so pretty like that, the heat coming from the chimney decouples his scent, lavender and wood. You take a deep breath to ground yourself but you can't push away the need to kiss him. 

Leaning into Eren's chest, you press your lips into his, softly, to see if is going to pull back or not. He doesn't, you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder, making it impossible for you to squirm away, but you wouldn't even if you could. His lips are intoxicating, he leans more and more into you as his tongue enters your mouth. Desperate for more you set down your glass on the ground, fisting his shirt in your palms. His secondhand goes on your waist securing your place once more as your tongue battles against each other for dominance. Eren breaks the kiss, still holding you close

"Needy much ?" Eren laughs, swiping his tongue on his bottom lips, your eyes don't miss a single bit, you hum absentmindedly. Diving for another kiss this time you let your hands go to his hair pulling slightly to make him open his mouth, your tongue snakes in when he gives you access, he tastes like cherry and orange and a mix of vodka. You freeze

"Are you drunk ?" The last thing you want is to take advantage of the situation. "From two cocktails ? I'm offended" you giggle and he dips his face in your neck, licking and sucking at your skin, his lips are cold, contrasting with the warmth the fire laced your body with, a shiver parcour you and you moan. 

Eren travels lower, kissing your breath through the material of your dress "Can I take it off ?" he asks emerald eyes boring through yours you nod, not trusting your voice  under his intense gaze. He peels the black cloth of your shoulders letting it sit on your belly. "Who would've thought my nerd has those pretty little tits"  he muses fondling them in his large hands. "Do you even know my name ?" you tempt. "Of course I do, y/n" he murmurs, kissing the side of your boob, "My beautiful y/n" he adds, taking your nipple in his mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

Fuck, you should have shut up, your name rolling of his tongue ties your stomach in knots. You exhale loudly arching your back to push more skin into his mouth. You allow yourself to close your eyes, head falling back as your hand travels south to your crotch, fingers toying with your clit. Eren grunts against your areola at the sight, his own fingers entering your wet cavern, you gasp at the intrusion. "Teamwork baby we're used to this" he groans before switching to your other breast. The circular motion you're self inflicting on your bundle of nerves is slowly making you unwind. On his side Eren is curling his digits inside your cunt, in search for the spongy spot that is going to make you mewl. 

You do your best to hold back your moans not wanting to sound like a desperate mess, but another precise curl of his fingers and there you are, whining and thrashing around him uncontrollably. Eren bites your nipple as you slowly come to your senses opening your eyes, you find his emerald  orbs staring back at you amused. "That was quite a show" he directs his glistening digits to his mouth, cleaning them from any remaining stickiness. You nudge him with your foot as your eyes travel to his needy bulge, if anything this only makes you want the full Eren Yeager experience. 

Tugging at his waistband you grab his cock from the confine of his sweatpant, he's not wearing any underwear, you chuckle. "Don't slutshame me, you weren't wearing anything either " he laughs, brushing the hair out of your face. "I didn't say anything" you joke planting kisses on his length, you can tell it is not fully hard, which is quite concerning because it's almost the size of your face already but you can take a challenge, and you want to make him hard without putting it in your mouth yet. So it is exactly what you do, leaving a trail of kisses on his base, his tip, his balls and his impressive length. 

"You're killing me there y/n"  he breathes, lifting his hips off the ground in an attempt to get more friction,what a greedy man he is. But you don't have it in you to tease him any more. Parting your lips you slowly suck the head of his cock in your mouth, the newfound sensation makes him hiss. You circle your tongue around his head, flicking it on his sensitive slit. Once your jaw has relaxed you work more and more of his length inside between your lips, bobbing your head up and down. You hollow your cheeks, working what doesn't fit in your mouth with your hands. His cock is heavy on your tongue, you missed this sensation, moaning around him, you quicken your pace. 

"Fuck, you read a book to give head this good ?" he half laughs half moans. He's not far from the truth, you used to read erotic types of books when you were younger but he doesn't need to know that. Having your mouth full you can't answer him so you decide to sink your teeth lightly on his skin. "Shit baby, I'm joking!" he groans but you can tell it's not hurting him, relaxing your jaw you resume your activity, the sloppy noise filling the room alongside the fire cracking next to you . "Right, just like, that I love it when you're nice to me" his hips start to thrust up and you let him fuck your mouth, slacking your jaw to the max. 

HIs breath is getting more and more ragged as he lets curses slip past his lips. He's about to cum and you can't wait to know what he tastes like. His hands come to each side of your face lifting you off his penis. 

"Eren ?" you mumble, disappointed you haven't gone to the end. He pecks your lips multiple time "Another time baby I want to fuck that little pussy okay ?" you nod, mind too fuzzy to protest. Lowering your upper body onto the carpet Eren hikes your bottom onto his lap. He's looking intently at your pussy before you can feel embarrassed. He parts your entrance with both of his thumb, looking at the arousal ripping out of it. "Cute" he mumbles before wetting his thumb with his tongue and rumbing at your clit a few times. The action makes your cheeks burn, you won't be able to use this move with your books without thinking about this now, you groan, closing your eyes. 

"Turn around for me baby" he demands, squeezing your thigh, you happily oblige, knees sinking onto the fluffy rug you arch your back the best you can so he can have a good sight. You feel him kissing your entrance a few times just like he did your lips before and restrain yourself not to back on his face. Soon enough his tip prod at your entrance and you sway your hips in anticipation. "Come on Eren please" you mewl looking back at him. Locking his eyes with yours he let his cock fill you up, inch by inch, both your mouths part when he's fully inside. Your brows are tight on your forehead when he starts to ram into your pussy. 

You close your eyes in bliss, cheek resting against the rug and mouth hanging low. You knew you were going to have fun when you saw what he was packing, but you couldn't imagine him stretching you this good. "That's what you needed y/n ? My cock inside of you to turn that big brain off ?" he rasps,fingers digging in your hips. "Yes Eren thank you"  you cry, gripping the soft material under you. restreint is no longer a concern, each of his thrust knocks the air out of your lung filling the room with your lewd moans. "Fuck I needed that too my little nerd, driving me crazy since the first day at the librabry". His chest collapses on top of you, making you lay flat on the ground. "Looking so fucking pretty when you want to cry" he purrs, kissing your ear and  jaw. 

Was he onto you since day one ? That would explain his attitude towards you, the thought makes you clench around him. A swear slips from his lips directly into your ear. One of his arm snakes under your body in between your breasts to finally grab your jaw. "Tell me how that feels baby" he demands, ramming into you deeper each time. 

"Feelsgoodbaby" your words are slurred because of his grip. "Fuck, turn around I want to cum looking at that face" despite asking, he's the one manhandling you, he position you on your back covering your face in kisses as he stoke his cock a few time befaore entering you once again, "Don't hide or I'll stop" he threatens feeling your face nooking in his neck. "No, Eren don't stop " you pathetically whine, setting your head back down. The last thing you want is for him to stop now, you need the release, you need it bad. "Good girl" he kisses your cheek, linking your hands with each other, fingers intertwined. 

If you didn't know better, you would've thought he has feelings for you, his forehead is resting against yours, eyes chasing yours, holding hands, this is all too intimate, so much for not getting the wrong idea. Eren's hair dangles in your face, shading the whole word from this moment, right now it's you and him. Your emotions are all over the place and you feel good, so good. A familiar knot forms in your lower belly and you know you're not going to last long, not with the way he's rutting into you like his life depends on it. 

"Eren can I cum please ? " you don't know why you ask but you do "Fuck, my little nerd is so polite, go ahead make a mess" His thrust are strong now and it's all you need to unravel around his dick as you thank him over and over again. Your body goes limp on the floor, abandoning your hands Eren circles your waist head buried between your breasts as he uses your body to reach his own high, grunting like an animal. Feeling his teeth sink into your skin you know it's about seconds before he shoots his semen inside of your cunt. You feel it dripping down your hole as Eren soothes the bite mark with his tongue. 

Your hand goes to his hair, caressing as his breath slowly replenishes.

"You're coming to the party tomorrow" he asks, eyes hazy looking up at you. That's what he's thinking after an sex you wonder? "I don't know, is it going to end like tonight ?" "I can only hope" he smiles resting his cheek against your belly. "Well, I can be convinced" looking into the crackling fire you pray he can't hear how loud your heart is beating in your chest. 

[genderqueerdykes]

poverty is so isolating. it means being alone and away from people, events, society. you can't afford trips to and from places. you can't afford to spare gas. you can't afford the entrance fee. you can't afford tickets. you can't afford making eating a social event. you can't buy drinks. you can't engage in hobbies.

all you're encouraged to do are "free" things, but they're not free. Internet isn't free. cell phone service isn't free. sitting on the computer and your phone all day is frowned upon for good reason because it destroys your health. we shouldn't have to only be able to talk to people digitally to be able to socialize. we shouldn't have to watch streams all day. we need to see other people, i DON'T care if it costs a few dollars: poor people shouldn't be relegated to what few free activities there are because most of them involve being alone.

the library is one of the most annoying suggestions because it makes you feel pinned. yes i want to support my local library. i cannot sit still and read in public. it is not socially acceptable to start taking to strangers in the library in fact you can't have conversations there at all because you need to be quiet for the other readers. libraries are places of education, accessibility to information and resources, and social services. it is not a place to socialize. maybe entertain but Only if you can, well, read. i have dissociative disorders and unmedicated ADHD, i don't make it very far into books. i feel like most poor people get really tired of the library suggestion. it's an amazing resource. but it's not for this purpose

social events are almost always off limits. sure you can go to the bar and not drink, if you don't have alcohol trauma, aren't a recovering alcoholic, aren't overstimulated by noise, aren't photosensitive, don't have anxiety with crowds and strangers, aren't a minor, have an ID, and can walk there or get a ride there. sure you can walk to the cafe and use their Wi-Fi but this isn't a social activity and in many places you can't sit there for long periods unless you buy anything.

i get SO tired of the "go to a cafe" suggestion. think about how boring that actually is. you're alone. in America, it is NOT socially acceptable to sit at a strangers table like it is in other countries, let alone just start talking to them. it is NOT a common experience to strike up a conversation with strangers in cafes in America, like we really have cafes other than fucking starbucks to begin with.

going for walks and going to parks is not accessible to people with physical disabilities, agoraphobia, some schizophrenics, people with dog trauma, and other issues. parks usually have really poorly maintained or no sidewalks or foot paths. they can be uneven and hard to traverse for people who use mobility aids. unless you live near a monument or state park, your local parks are really meant for dogs to piss and shit in, for joggers to run through, and to look impressive to investors. they're usually pathetic swaths of grass with you guessed it, nothing to do. again it's rare to strike up conversation at the park. people need conversation starters. there's Nothing going on at the park. it's a great place to go if you need to cool down when angry or stressed, but it's fucking boring.

window shopping is pointless and dehumanizing. i really can't stand it when people suggest poor people window shop so we can think about things to buy when we have money ... why the fuck would i ever do that. when i don't have money i don't think about frivolous things i don't need. what the fuck kind of activity is window shopping, that's for people who have money.

poor people get tired of doing the "free" shit. if you suggest that a poor person should do these things when you do none of them yourself, you have 0 clue how boring and dehumanizing it is to never be able to decide what you do with your time. to have limited options to live. to experience.

money is not the reason you get to experience; you get to experience because you are alive. no poor people don't deserve to sit there and do nothing all day because they didn't "earn" anything. no poor people don't deserve to live their lives because they don't make as much as you. poor people deserve to enjoy being alive. poor people get to decide to have fun with their money, too.

I'm so tired of people being so harsh on people who struggle with financial issues and spending money "right" or "smart". reckless spending and difficulty managing finances are symptoms of mental illness and neurodivergence. bipolar, personality disorders, schizophrenia, anxiety, autism, ADHD, OCD and other mental health conditions can make managing funds very hard. don't be extra cruel to someone who spends money poorly in response to a mental health crisis. this won't make their situation any easier.

i sat in apartment after apartment for a decade doing nothing. i was a total shut in because i had no money. i never did anything but browse the Internet. all day long. without end. i was dissociating constantly. my anxiety was at its highest. i was constantly psychotic. instead of going out to fix it, i would stay inside longer, making it worse and worse and worse. i never bought anything. i didn't have hobbies. all of my decorations and possessions were from my childhood, my clothes were literally falling apart, a decade old. my walls were barren. my world was grey.

don't do this to yourself. don't tell yourself that you deserve nothing because it's harder for you to make money than other people. I'm very lucky now that i have made friends who pulled me out of my shell and have helped me get outside of my house. i spent so long alone and trapped indoors thinking it's the only thing i could do with myself for years. I'm finally recovering. if you're poor you deserve to live. you're alive. and you're not alone. i love you.

[mywritersmind]

OK PUT MY NUMBER. - LN4

summary : Based off the gilmore girls scene where Logan and his friends meet Rory at her dorm!! Hope you enjoy <3

listen up : no warnings!! lando!collegereader

word count : 1017

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Okay, Franco. Last building!” A man walks past me as I rearrange the items I'm attempting to carry without dropping. “Please say it looks familiar!”

I grab my coffee and stack of books, eyeing the group of boys who have strayed into the girls' dorms.

“Ahh!” One of the boys says, his eyes closed like he’s trying to manifest his way.

The tallest (and that’s not saying much) and tannest of the group groans, “Apparently it doesn’t seem familiar.” He’s got a thick accent, maybe spanish?

“Hold on!” The other boy with thick waves finally opens his eyes and says, “Hold. On. Yes! Here, this is where she lives!” And for the first time, me being quite nosy, it finally works out in my favor.

They go straight to my dorm. My single dorm.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” I walk closer to them, the one in the back has his hands lazily strewn in his pockets and walks straight past me with no answer.

“Hey!” I follow them to my door where the other two are writing on what looks like a crumpled piece of paper.

“Don’t put your number, Don’t put your number!” His accent surprises me but as I stare at the back of his curly hair, I scoff at me being ignored.

“I’m not putting my number, I’m putting your number!” His friend says, a twinkle in his green eyes

“That’s my room.” I speak up finally, the three turn harshly and eye me.

“Ok, put my number.” The curly haired one, british and ridiculously attractive, says as he smirks.

His eyes examine me as his friend groans, “Are you sure this is your room?”

I nod, “I’m sure.”

“I could have sworn it was her room!”

I balance my books, “What’s her name, maybe I know her.”

“It was uh…” he uses his hands to talk, “Short.”

I raise a brow, “Oh! I can understand your disappointment… losing a potential soulmate like that.” The cute one close to me laughs, “But that’s still my room.”

He motions to me, “I’m sorry about the mix up. It’s just- my friend Franco here needs to learn that Guineess and blondes don’t mix.”

“Redheads.” Franco corrects, “It doesn’t mix with redheads!”

He turns back to me, looking tired, “We sincerely apologize and will now leave you with your…” he eyes my books, “library?”

I frown as the other two run up the stairs, Franco saying his memory is coming back. I slip my key out of my pocket and start to open my door, “It’s called being a college student.” I sigh at the heaviness of my books, though most are for my own pleasure, “I’ll leave you to your friends.” I struggle with my key more, my cheeks getting warm because he’s just staring at me.

The man bites his lip, thinking for a moment, “Ah, they can manage.” Before I know it, his (huge) hands are taking my books from me. I eye him at first but then unlock my door with ease.

“Thanks.” I mumble and step inside, he follows after me and I don’t shut the door. He sets the books down on my table, his eyes darting around.

I watch him push up the sleeves to his blue long sleeve and take him in.

He’s got curls, a clean face, and a muscular build. He's not very tall but still looks down on me. The thing I can’t help but notice is his eyes clashing with his dark hair.

“I’m Lando!” He holds out his hand which I shake with a slightly confused expression, “Sorry again about my friends.”

“Y/n.” I smile politely, wishing I had cleaned up my place or something, “And don’t worry. They're funny.”

He rolls his eyes, “Franco and Carlos are definitely strong personalities!” I laugh, “We’re visiting Carlos’ sister. She’s a freshman…” he looks nervous saying the year, “Francesca.”

“Oh I'm not very clued into the freshman circle.” I shrug, “I’m a senior.”

“Oh shit- I just thought cause the dorm…” Lando shakes his head, “I should have noticed, you don’t look eighteen.”

I raise a brow, “Appreciate it…” He scratches the back of his neck and I laugh purely at the situation of this random British man in my room, “Uh- where do you go to school?”

“Oh I don’t!” He seems happy that I asked him something, “I’d be…” He counts on his fingers, “two years out anyway but I never went to uni. I work with those two muppets.”

“Oh!” I can’t help but mentally scream that he’s in my age range, “What do you do?”

Lando looks nervous again, his facial expressions are undeniably impossible to hide, “We drive.”

“Drive?” He nods, “Like a chauffeur?”

“There’s a car involved.” He holds back his smile as there’s booming footsteps and two heads pop into my room.

“Lando boy!” Carlos grins, “He thinks he remembers!”

Lando looks at me, looking regretful but still walks over to the open door, “See you around, Y/n.” He smiles and god I’ve never seen a smile like that. I feel my cheeks go pink, smiling softly and waving.

“Good luck.”

The door shuts a second later and I immediately bring my books to my makeshift bookshelf, trying to ignore the smile on my face.

I’m being ridiculous, I know I am. He’s older, British, and I will probably never see him again! But at least I can zone out in class about something.

I pull a hoodie over my head when I hear a knock at the door, “Coming!” I yell as I stumble over the clothes on my floor.

Except when I open the door, no one’s there.

I think it’s some bored frat boys until I go to close the door and see a yellow sticky note stuck to the wood.

I look around but there’s no cute man around. I shut the door, leaning against it and smiling down at the note, taking out my phone and typing in the number.

[drcomttheo]

Hi, first of all I really like your work <3

Could I ask for a short story with Matteo and hufflepuff reader in a hogwarts setting (but more college style). The reader is shy and awkward in social situations in general, and is oblivious of any romantic instances. I would love to read something soft and fun where Matteo is trying to actually flirt with the reader, but they think it is just friendly banter. Maybe some of the Slythering gang is nearby and are just enjoying the show and betting on the outcome XD Even better if there are books involved or simply a bookish setting.

Thank you :)

MATTHEO RIDDLE x YN

summary: You are a reserved Hufflepuff just trying to study. warnings: Fluff words: 1418 a/n: Hope you enjoy, anon! Slytherin Boy oneshots—ML Slytherin Boy oneshots—AO3

𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍

Hogwarts had now offered higher education; after the seventh year, you could continue education for university—still within your assorted house—and you were a Hufflepuff.

You were in your third period of the day, which happened to be private study, so naturally, as the bookish reader you are, you found yourself within the confines of the library, trying to catch up on your studies.

This changed when a sudden influx of noise caught your attention, prompting you to shift your gaze to the tall double doors, where you saw Mattheo accompanied by the rest of the Slytherin gang.

The resonant thuds of their footsteps echoed through the air as they made their way into the library. Mattheo, the ringleader of the group, drifted a bit from his companions, meandering through the aisles of books. He plucked a few volumes from the shelves, his face betraying a disinterest as he skimmed their pages.

Your eyes flickered toward him at intervals, each moment drawing him nearer and nearer.

After a brief interlude, Mattheo discovered himself positioned directly before you, where you sat.

Little did you know, he was already well-acquainted with you, having noticed your wandering gaze every few seconds, prompting him to gradually draw nearer.

At that moment, he stood above you, a commanding presence, and he released a deep, deliberate sound from his throat.

“Busy studying?” Mattheo's gaze pierced through the pages of the book, his intense dark orbs flickering up to meet yours. A brow arched in playful curiosity, an amused smirk danced across his lips, hinting at secrets only he knew.

"Yes... I have an exam next period..." You said, your voice warm and inviting, a friendly smile gracing your lips.

Before you could utter another word, he had settled into the chair beside you, an eager glint in his eyes. He laughed a little because he thought you were shy yet nice. Then he leaned back in the chair and put his hand on the armrest next to you.

"An exam, huh? I don't care about those; they're all a bunch of rubbish to me." He answered with a sleepy smile on his face.

"Well," you began with a laugh, "I care about my grades, and I also like the subject. But what are you doing here if you're not studying?" You questioned yourself as you cast your eyes around the library, and once you did, your gaze came into contact with some of the other Slytherins that sat on the opposite end of the library.

"Eh, just a bit bored." Mattheo lied, glancing over to where his friends sat a few tables away. He could tell they were trying to discreetly look over at you and him.

He sighed before diverting his gaze back towards you, a smirk spreading across his face. "Besides, I saw you sitting here all alone... figured I'd keep you company."

"Okay... that's fine then..."

Mattheo let out a soft chuckle, his arms folding across his broad chest as he reclined once more in the chair.

"I must say, I'm surprised I've never really noticed you until now," he admitted while his eyes continued to wander over your body.

"That's okay! I tend to keep my head down and mind my studies!"

"Ahh, a studious one, huh? I like it." He mused, his smirk growing wider. "Cute and a nerd."

He leaned closer to you, a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes, and lowered his voice so that only you could hear him. "I have to admit, I've always had a bit of a thing for the smart ones."

Your brows knitted together ever so slightly, warmth creeping into your cheeks, and a small smile tugged at your lips—he was merely being friendly; surely, he extended his kindness to all. However, the moment felt different when you locked eyes with Draco Malfoy, who was playfully nudging Theo Nott while they snickered in their small group.

Mattheo caught the direction of your gaze as it wandered towards his friends, and with a subtle roll of his eyes, he released a soft scoff. "Ignore them... they're just being idiots." 

“I see that,” you murmured, your gaze drifting back to the pages of your book, yet in that moment, Mattheo leaned in closer and quietly closed it, interrupting your thoughts. 

He wore a sly smile, his eyes locked onto yours. "Now there's no need for that... I prefer your attention to me, not your book." He playfully teased, his other hand gently coming to rest upon your knee.

You glanced at him and then went down to your knee, and within a matter of seconds, you quickly picked his hand up and placed it back on the table.

"I don't know what you are talking about..."

Mattheo's smirk deepened, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes as he observed your swift reflexes, intrigued by your valiant effort to silence him. 

"Playing hard to get, are we?" He chuckled, his voice low and smooth. "No need to be so uptight, love. I just want a bit of your attention, is all."

Your cheeks flushed with warmth as you gathered your books, clutching them tightly to your chest. Rising from the table, you felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness swirl within you.

"I need to study! I'm sorry! I don't mean to be rude..." You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a fleeting moment, Mattheo's expression softened, and a gentle chuckle escaped his lips as he observed your bashful demeanor. He couldn't help but find your bashfulness endearing.

"Ah, no need to apologize." He uttered those words, reclining once more in his chair. "I'll back off for now. Wouldn't want to get in the way of your studies."

Your smile lit up his face, and then your gaze shifted to his companions, who seemed to be amusing themselves.

"What are they laughing at?"

Mattheo's eyes flicked to his friends, a fleeting hardness crossing his features. "Like I said, they're just a bunch of idiots. They're probably just amused by the fact that a smart person like you isn't falling for my charm." With a scoff, he rolled his eyes, a gesture laden with disdain.

His charms? You thought to yourself, was that what he was doing? Flirting?

Mattheo let out a soft chuckle, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he observed the dawning realization that spread across your face.

"Ah, I see you are beginning to understand. Took you long enough." He leaned forward on the table once more, a playful glint in his eyes as he teased. "You must know people usually fall at my feet, right?"

"I'm sorry? I'm not sure what you are talking about."

Mattheo's lips curled into a smirk, a glimmer of delight dancing in his eyes as he reveled in the playful exchange.

"Let me clear it up for you then." He said, his tone bordering on cocky. “Want to go out with me?" He inquired, casting a fleeting glance at his friends.

They were silently forming words you couldn't decipher, their attempts to conceal their broad smiles failing miserably, and as Mattheo turned back to you, a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "I guess my friends are anticipating your answer as well."

"Me? What? I—sure?"

Mattheo's smirk blossomed into a genuine smile at the warmth of your acceptance. "Great." He said, his expression softening momentarily. "How about this weekend, then? I'll meet you by the Black Lake after dinner on Saturday."

"That's fine..." you murmured softly, cradling your books against your chest, striving to quell the warmth rising to your cheeks and to regain your composure.

Mattheo caught sight of your flustered expression, a grin spreading across his face as he reveled in the delightful way you were behaving. "Looks like I've got you all flustered." He playfully taunted. "Don't worry, I won't bite... unless you want me to."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips in response to his words, and in that fleeting moment, he returned your expression with a brief yet warm smile of his own.

"I'll see you then, then," you said quickly as he rushed out of the library past his friends; we were clapping slightly.

Mattheo let out a soft chuckle, a smirk lingering on his lips as he watched your hasty retreat. As he turned to look at his friends, they gave him a sly grin in response.

"Looks like you scored a date, mate." Blaise playfully nudged his arm, a mischievous glint in his eye.

[socialobligation]

love in the margins | t. iida

a short, slow-burn library romance, ft. one blueberry muffin, exactly zero jokes, and a boy who takes flashcards way too seriously. (4597 words)

you meet tenya iida under circumstances that can only be described as tragically collegiate: a peer-led study group in the furthest, quietest corner of the campus library, surrounded by half-dead fluorescent bulbs and the palpable despair of students on the brink of burnout.

it's the third week of the semester, and you're already floundering.

you hadn't intended to be. in theory, you were going to stay on top of things—read the chapters early, color-code your notes, maybe even start a study group of your own. but somewhere between sleep deprivation, an avalanche of discussion posts, and the mysterious black hole that is the university's online portal, you fell behind. hard.

introduction to public policy has been your academic nemesis from the start. the textbook reads like legal jargon swallowed a thesaurus. the professor talks in dense, circular metaphors. every quiz is a minefield of trick questions and ambiguous phrasing. you are, in every sense of the word, academically drowning.

so when a brightly colored flyer promising a "collaborative review session" caught your eye on the bulletin board outside the lecture hall, you didn't think twice. you showed up. desperate. caffeinated. terminally underprepared.

and now you regret everything.

the room smells like dry-erase markers and nervous sweat. a whiteboard at the front is covered in illegible graphs. someone has already spilled a latte on the floor. the guy leading the group talks fast and loud, his explanations full of buzzwords and gestures but lacking anything remotely useful. you suspect he's just regurgitating the study guide at a slightly faster pace.

the other students seem to agree.

one by one, they start to trickle out. a girl leaves with the excuse of "office hours." a guy mutters something about dinner. another just quietly packs up and disappears, not even bothering with a pretense.

by the end of the hour, only two people remain: you, clinging to a futile hope of salvaging your gpa... and him.

he sits across from you with the kind of posture that makes your back ache just looking at him. tall, composed, and absurdly polished—like someone who writes essays three days early and carries a spare pen in case someone forgets theirs. his navy-blue sweater is wrinkle-free. his glasses catch the dim library light. his notes are not just color-coded—they're thematically organized, annotated with footnotes and marginalia in tiny, immaculate handwriting.

he hasn't spoken once. he hasn't needed to.

he radiates competence like it's a moral obligation.

"you're still here?" you ask, more surprise than judgment.

the boy looks up, blinking as if surfacing from a well of deep concentration. he adjusts his glasses with a practiced motion.

"yes," he says, voice clipped and oddly formal. "you are as well."

you arch an eyebrow. "no offense, but... are you actually getting something out of this?"

his expression doesn't change, but he tilts his head slightly—almost like he's assessing you.

"of course," he replies. "engaging in structured group review enhances cognitive retention and contextual understanding. it's an effective method for consolidating knowledge prior to a high-stakes assessment."

you blink. "so... yes?"

he doesn't hesitate. "yes."

you snort—audibly. it escapes before you can stop it. and to your surprise, a faint smile flickers across his mouth.

"i'm tenya iida," he says, extending a hand across the table with the kind of precision reserved for formal introductions at university mixers.

you stare at his hand for a moment, then take it. his grip is warm. steady. confident in a way that makes you sit up a little straighter.

"y/n," you say.

his smile grows just slightly. "it's a pleasure to meet you, y/n."

he releases your hand and immediately pulls out a second set of flashcards from his folder. of course he has a second set.

"would you like to quiz each other?" he asks, dead serious. "alternating questions could be a mutually beneficial method of review."

you stare at him.

he stares back.

something about him—the earnestness, the posture, the complete and utter lack of sarcasm—disarms you. it's like he's the living embodiment of academic sincerity. you're not sure whether to laugh or agree.

you do both.

"...sure."

you don't know it yet, but that's the beginning.

⋆˚✿˖°

you don't plan on seeing him again.

it's not personal. it's just that study groups are the social equivalent of jury duty—temporary, miserable, and best forgotten. you assume tenya iida is one of those hyper-dedicated overachievers who only exist within the academic ecosystem. he probably recedes into a cloud of flashcards and moral fiber as soon as the library closes.

you are, however, proven categorically wrong the following wednesday at exactly 8:03 a.m.

you enter the campus café half-awake, mildly hostile, and fully dependent on the idea of caffeine as a substitute for sleep. the plan is simple: grab something with enough espresso to make your eye twitch, stare blankly at your phone for fifteen minutes, and pretend the crushing weight of institutional learning isn't slowly hollowing you out from the inside.

but fate—or perhaps syllabus-based divine intervention—has other plans.

because when you step inside, there he is.

same posture. same glasses. same stupidly crisp button-down like it didn't just come out of someone's laundry but graduated magna cum laude from it. he's seated at a table by the window, surrounded by highlighters arranged like soldiers, reading the textbook that has been your personal tormentor since week one.

and next to his coffee?

a single blueberry muffin.

you hesitate, caught in that weird space where it's too late to pretend you didn't see him, but also too awkward to walk past without acknowledging him.

before you can make a decision, he looks up—and smiles.

not just a polite, "ah yes, i recognize you" smile.

a real smile. brief, but sincere. like he's actually glad you're here.

he waves you over.

you hate how quickly your legs respond.

"didn't expect to see you here," you say as you slide into the seat across from him, instantly aware of how tired you look in comparison to his perfectly combed hair and terrifying punctuality.

"i study here most mornings," he replies. "the ambient noise level is consistent, and the natural lighting is optimal for focus."

you blink. "that is... alarmingly specific."

he inclines his head. "i find that consistency breeds productivity."

you want to tease him, but the truth is, it's kind of admirable. alarming. but admirable.

he gestures to the pastry between you.

"would you like half?" he asks. "it's fresh. and i believe we have, at this point, established a cordial enough rapport to justify the sharing of breakfast items."

you stare at him.

"do you always offer muffins to people you've only studied with once?"

he doesn't even flinch. "only when they look tired enough to deserve one."

your mouth twitches.

"you've been saving that line, haven't you."

he looks mildly offended. "no. though i could annotate it in my planner if you'd like."

you laugh—genuinely this time—and accept the muffin. it's warm, sweet, and annoyingly perfect. just like him.

you don't pull out your flashcards. not immediately. you sit there in companionable silence, splitting the muffin and sipping your drinks like it's something you've always done. like this is normal.

you tell yourself this isn't a date. obviously.

it's too early in the day for romance. you're both clutching textbooks like weapons. he hasn't even made a single joke. (you're not sure he knows how.)

and yet—

when he leans in to show you a section he highlighted—carefully annotated with footnotes and marginal notes that are somehow neater than your typed essays—your shoulders brush. you don't pull away.

he doesn't, either.

later, you realize that you don't even remember what chapter you reviewed.

but you remember the sound of his voice as he quietly explained it. the way he passed you the last bite of muffin without saying anything. the way his fingers curled ever so slightly when he set his pen down between you.

you remember thinking, with a strange flutter in your chest: this could be something.

not yet.

but maybe.

⋆˚✿˖°

you tell yourself this is still just about school.

you repeat it like a mantra as you meet him at the library every tuesday and thursday without fail, settling into your now-permanent seats by the windows like assigned partners in some ongoing group project that no one else remembers being assigned to. his bag always lands on the table first, followed by a reusable water bottle the size of your emotional baggage. he brings extra highlighters now—plural—and starts leaving a green one near your elbow like he’s not even thinking about it.

you, in turn, stop pretending to study anywhere else.

because the truth is, you don’t concentrate better when he’s around—not even a little. he’s distracting in the worst possible way: tall and tidy and terminally composed, with a voice like a podcast host and a smile that you pretend not to notice every time he glances over at you with something like pride in his eyes.

and the worst part?

it’s working.

your grades are going up. you understand policy terminology now. you caught yourself referencing a case study unprompted in another class, and the look your professor gave you made it feel like you’d just been knighted.

you’d thank him for it—sincerely—if he didn’t look so smug every time you nailed a quiz.

“you’ve clearly been applying yourself,” he says one evening, looking over your annotated notes like they’re some kind of sacred text.

“i’ve been applying your study methods,” you reply, then instantly regret it, because the smile he gives you in return is devastating.

and that would be fine—annoying, but fine—if it weren’t for the fact that he’s started sitting closer.

not drastically. not inappropriately. just... close.

close enough that when you both lean in to look at something on the same page, your shoulders brush. your knees knock. his hand lingers near yours when he passes you a pen, and he doesn’t move away quickly. sometimes—and this is particularly evil—his thigh rests against yours under the table for minutes at a time, and you’re too proud (and too panicked) to say anything.

you’re not flirting. not really.

you’re both too stubborn for that.

but something is happening. you just don’t know what to call it.

one thursday afternoon, the sky is gray and heavy with the threat of rain. the windows in the library fog up slightly, making the whole room feel smaller, softer, somehow more intimate. your shoes are damp. your brain is fried. you’re barely holding onto your focus.

but he’s already there, sitting at your usual table with a mug from the downstairs café and a folder labeled “legislation review: week 5.” there’s a muffin. of course there’s a muffin.

he looks up as you approach. smiles. “you’re early.”

you blink. “so are you.”

he shrugs. “anticipation is efficient.”

“what does that even mean?”

he hesitates, like he’s genuinely considering it. “it means i enjoy this.”

your heart does something stupid.

you take your seat before your face can give you away.

thirty minutes in, your brain stops processing information entirely.

you’re trying to focus. really, you are. but his leg is pressed against yours and you swear it’s getting closer every time he shifts. it’s not even the contact itself that’s distracting—it’s the fact that he doesn’t seem to notice. like it’s just normal. like this is how he always studies with people.

(does he?)

(no. he can’t.)

“y/n?” he says, and you jolt like you’ve been electrocuted.

“hm?”

“i asked if you’d like to walk through the case brief again. you seem... distant.”

you clear your throat and try not to sound like someone whose brain has just been wiped by a thigh. “yeah, no, i’m fine. just tired.”

he nods solemnly. “understandable. your coursework has been particularly intensive.”

he says it like he knows your schedule better than you do—which he might. you’ve seen his planner. you’re pretty sure he’s memorized the entire academic calendar, national holidays included.

you try to return to your notes.

you fail.

eventually, you lean back in your chair and exhale.

“okay,” you say. “i need to ask you something.”

he looks up, immediately attentive. “yes?”

you glance around—no one’s within earshot— and lean in slightly.

“this thing we do.”

he blinks. “studying?”

“no. i mean yes, but no.” you gesture vaguely between the two of you. “this. the muffins. the flashcards. the... sitting so close i can smell your laundry detergent.”

he goes still.

“i’m just trying to understand if we’re, like...” you hesitate. “is this just a really intense academic friendship or are we... flirting?”

he doesn’t speak for a long moment.

then, carefully: “i hadn’t realized my proximity was making you uncomfortable.”

“it’s not!” you say, too quickly. “it’s just... confusing.”

“confusing how?”

you fidget with the cap of your pen. “because we do things that feel... date-adjacent. and i don’t know if that’s just how you are with people or if i’m—” you stop yourself before you can say��not imagining it.

his brows draw together, faintly perplexed. “i apologize. i didn’t mean to cause confusion.”

you blink. “so you are flirting?”

his ears go pink. just slightly. “i wouldn’t define it as flirting. but i do enjoy spending time with you.”

you squint at him. “that’s not a no.”

he hesitates. then, quieter: “it’s not.”

oh.

you stare at him. he stares back.

and then—like the universe can’t stand unresolved tension—your knees bump again.

but this time, he doesn’t shift away.

and neither do you.

⋆˚✿˖°

you don’t call it a date.

not out loud.

not even in your head, really—not technically. because you’re not dating. you haven’t kissed. there’s been no confession. there’s been no moment of clarity where either of you has stood dramatically in the rain and said i think about you all the time, which, honestly, is a bit disappointing.

but you still change your outfit three times before meeting him for coffee on saturday.

you still hesitate in front of the mirror, adjusting your sleeves and second-guessing your hair, muttering get a grip under your breath like it’s a prayer.

you still pause at the door to the café, one hand on the handle, and remind yourself—again—that this isn’t a date.

you’re just meeting up. casually. like friends.

friends who sometimes sit with their knees touching under library tables. friends who share muffins and steal glances and somehow always find reasons to linger a little too long in doorways.

friends who, if they weren’t so emotionally constipated, might’ve figured this out already.

but you push the door open anyway, and the little bell overhead chimes bright and familiar.

he’s already there.

of course he is.

tenya iida is punctual to the point of pathology. if you told him to meet you in the afterlife at 3:00 p.m. sharp, he’d be there early, holding a clipboard and a fully prepared powerpoint.

he’s sitting near the window, back straight, hands folded politely in his lap. his hair is a little messy from the wind outside. his sweater is navy—clean, simple, a little oversized in a way that makes you stare longer than you should.

he sees you and stands immediately, which is both adorable and completely unnecessary.

“you’re early,” he says, voice warm.

“so are you.”

he doesn’t reply, but the smile he gives you is soft around the edges.

you order something with too much caffeine and not enough nutritional value. he offers to pay, like he always does. you decline, like you always do. it’s a silent tradition now, a ritual of stubbornness. he lets it go with a quiet nod, but not without giving you that look—the one that says i was raised right and this physically pains me.

you find a booth in the corner, a little more secluded than the rest. the sun spills in through the window in soft golden streaks, and for a moment, it feels like you’re somewhere outside of time.

“i’ve never seen you wear that color,” he says as you sit down.

you glance at your shirt. “yeah? too much?”

he shakes his head immediately. “no. it suits you.”

your mouth goes a little dry.

you recover quickly, leaning back and sipping your drink like it doesn’t mean anything. like the warmth crawling up your neck is from the coffee and not the compliment.

“so,” you say, clearing your throat. “what’s on the agenda for today? rigorous academic analysis? philosophical debates about economic ethics? impromptu pop quizzes?”

he tilts his head. “i thought we might take the day off.”

you blink. “from... studying?”

“from everything.” he shrugs, a little sheepishly. “i realized we’ve never spent time together without a textbook between us.”

your heart does something strange.

“you mean like... just hang out?”

“yes.”

“like friends.”

he hesitates. just barely. “yes. like friends.”

the words hang in the air between you—awkward, uncertain, but not unkind.

you nod, slowly. “okay. yeah. we can do that.”

and you do.

you talk. not about school, not about deadlines or group projects or the upcoming midterm. you talk about dumb childhood stories and weird food preferences and the fact that he once tried to start a recycling initiative in his middle school and was very upset when no one followed the sorting chart correctly.

you tell him about your obsession with terrible reality TV. he listens with the seriousness of a man taking notes for a thesis.

he tells you about his older brother, and how much he looks up to him. you tell him about the stray cat that used to follow you home in high school, even though you never fed it.

he laughs—really laughs—when you tell him about the time you broke your nose in gym class trying to dodge a volleyball and ran straight into a bleacher.

“i’m sorry,” he says between gasps. “i don’t mean to laugh at your pain.”

“no, you do,” you say, grinning. “and it’s okay. i would too.”

at one point, your knees bump under the table again. this time, neither of you pulls away.

it’s later than you mean it to be when you finally leave the café. the sun is dipping low, the sky tinged with lavender and orange. the street is quiet, and the wind bites just enough to make you zip your jacket up.

you walk together. not toward the library, not toward another class—just aimlessly. like people who have nowhere else to be.

it’s peaceful.

and weirdly... intimate.

you’re not talking. not really. the silence between you is comfortable now, lived-in. every so often your hands brush, and you wonder—wildly, stupidly —what would happen if you just reached out.

but you don’t.

because this isn’t a date.

it’s not.

except maybe... it is.

“this was nice,” you say, when you finally reach the crosswalk where you’ll part ways.

he nods. “i enjoyed it.”

there’s a beat of silence.

“we should do it again,” you say. casually. like it doesn’t mean anything.

but he looks at you like it does.

“i’d like that,” he says. and then—“you’re very easy to be around.”

your breath catches.

you want to say something. you’re easy to be around too. i think about you when we’re not together. i don’t know if i’m imagining this but i hope i’m not.

instead, you say, “you’re weirdly charming, you know that?”

he blinks. “i—thank you?”

you grin. “it’s a compliment. mostly.”

he laughs. soft. pleased. “i’ll take it.”

he takes a small step back, like he’s about to leave —but then pauses.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“if this had been a date...” he clears his throat. “would that have been... agreeable to you?”

you stare at him.

then, slowly—carefully—you nod.

“yeah,” you say. “i think it would’ve been.”

he smiles. it’s small. tentative. but it lights up his whole face.

“then maybe next time, we won’t pretend.”

you feel like you’re floating.

“deal.”

he nods once. then, with a strange, lingering sort of hesitation—like he’s not ready to go yet—he turns to leave.

you watch him go.

and for the first time in a long time, you feel... hopeful.

⋆˚✿˖°

you don't know what you're expecting.

when he texts you the next morning—same time tuesday? not for studying this time. if you're free.—you stare at it for a good ten minutes before responding. not because you’re unsure of your answer (you’re not), but because the implication hits like a freight train.

not for studying.

not as friends.

just you. just him. again.

this time, it’s a little different.

this time, he’s calling it what it is.

you don’t overthink your reply (for once). you just type yeah. i’m free and throw your phone face-down before your heart can beat out of your chest.

and when tuesday rolls around, you are twenty minutes early.

you tell yourself it’s because the weather’s nice and the walk was shorter than usual and you didn’t want to cut it close. but the truth is, you’ve been ready since noon.

you’re wearing the sweater he said he liked once, months ago, after a study session where he handed you a highlighter and your fingers brushed and you both paused like the world might end. it’s not even your warmest or your nicest sweater. it’s just... the one he looked at a little too long.

you don’t want to admit what that means.

you sit in your usual seat by the window. a small table, worn edges. your coffee in hand. no textbooks. no flashcards. just the sound of the café around you and the low simmer of anticipation in your chest.

he walks in three minutes early, which is basically scandalous by iida standards.

you glance up, and the second your eyes meet, he smiles.

it’s not his usual polite, committee-appropriate smile.

it’s something else.

something softer.

he sits down across from you like he’s been doing it his whole life.

you stare at him for a second too long.

“you’re early,” he says, like it’s a fact worth noting. his voice is gentler than usual.

“so are you.”

“a rare occurrence.”

“should i be concerned?”

he laughs—quietly, warmly. “i thought you might say that.”

you both go quiet.

not awkward quiet. just... full.

full of everything you’re not saying.

you sip your drink and hope your heart doesn’t explode.

twenty minutes in, you realize you’ve forgotten what time it is.

again.

you’re talking about something stupid—a professor you both silently hate but never speak ill of in class—and he’s mimicking their voice in a whisper, hand shielding his mouth, and you’re laughing.

like genuinely, honestly laughing.

like you don’t have a hundred things weighing you down.

he always does that. makes everything feel easier. lighter.

it’s dangerous, how much you like it.

how much you like him.

you haven’t said it. not out loud. not even to yourself.

but the truth is: you’re in trouble.

deep trouble.

because tenya iida has the power to wreck you in a way no one else ever has.

not because he’s dramatic. not because he’s charming (though he is, in that annoying, understated, golden-retriever-with-a-perfect-credit-score kind of way).

but because he’s steady.

because he means things.

because when he looks at you, it’s like you’re someone worth understanding.

and you’ve never been loved gently before.

not like this.

you walk out together.

neither of you mentions how long you stayed. it’s dark out, but neither of you cares.

you walk close, side by side. your hands brush once, then again. his fingers twitch toward yours, and you pretend not to notice—not because you don’t want it, but because you’re not sure what happens if you reach back.

you talk about nothing. and everything.

he tells you about the time his older brother accidentally dyed his hair blue with a shampoo prank and how no one in their house was allowed to mention it for an entire year.

you tell him about the time you accidentally set off a fire alarm trying to microwave leftover curry in a dorm that very explicitly prohibited strong-smelling food.

“you’re a menace,” he says, laughing.

you bump your shoulder into his. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

he glances at you. “i didn’t say that.”

you both stop at the crosswalk—the same one where you stood days ago.

the same one where he asked if this had been a date...

you’re not pretending anymore.

and yet.

you don’t know what to say.

you just look at him, the wind brushing through your sleeves, your fingers cold where they’re shoved into your pockets.

he looks at you.

longer than before.

long enough that your heart stumbles.

and then—quietly—he says, “can i ask you something?”

you nod. “of course.”

his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it. careful.

“why me?”

you blink. “what?”

“why... this?” he gestures gently between you. “i know i’m not the most exciting person. i’m not particularly funny or... spontaneous.”

you frown. “iida.”

“i’m just trying to understand,” he says. “why you keep showing up.”

you want to say because i like the way you talk when you’re tired, or because your laugh makes me want to listen to every dumb story you’ve ever told.

you want to say because i’ve never felt so calm next to another person in my entire life.

instead, you say, “because when i’m with you, i don’t feel like i have to be anyone else.”

his expression shifts.

his jaw tightens. his eyes soften.

he takes a step closer.

“i don’t want to mess this up,” he says.

“you’re not.”

“i don’t want to misread it.”

you exhale, a laugh escaping despite yourself. “you’re not.”

his hand lifts, hesitates—then lands gently against your cheek.

you stop breathing.

“may i kiss you?” he asks.

you nod before your brain catches up.

“yeah,” you whisper. “you may.”

and he does.

it’s not rushed.

it’s not fiery or desperate.

it’s patient. reverent. like he’s memorizing the feeling. like he’s been waiting for the right moment and this, finally, is it.

his lips press softly against yours, and your hands lift automatically to his jacket, holding on, grounding yourself.

when you part, he leans his forehead against yours.

you’re both quiet for a moment.

then he says, “i’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

you smile. “i could tell.”

“was i too obvious?”

“painfully.”

he laughs, arms sliding around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“this is still new,” he says. “i know that.”

you nod.

“but i’m willing to take it slow.”

“okay.”

“i’ll be patient.”

“okay.”

he pauses. “and i’d like to take you to dinner. an actual dinner. with reservations and menus and probably overpriced appetizers.”

you grin. “are you asking me on a real date?”

he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“yes,” he says. “i’m asking.”

“then yes,” you reply. “i’m saying yes.”

you walk home hand-in-hand.

you don’t have to say anything.

it’s not pretending anymore.

and for once—finally—that feels like enough.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

꒰ james who's against potter!reader's relationship with regulus ꒱

james potter had always known one truth that no one could change― his little sister deserved the best.

and the best certainly did not mean regulus arcturus bloody black with his pressed uniform and his too good for anyone attitude.

so yes— james had a right to sit three feet away in the library and "casually" read while glaring holes into the back of regulus’ head.

and yes, in his mind, he was fully justified in assembling backup— even if said backup consisted of the least discreet people in all of hogwarts.

sirius and remus were standing near the bookshelfs 'very subtly', and peter was 'casually' talking with ms. pince about the latest books in the library. together, they were absolutely certain they were invisible. even an eagle, they swore, wouldn’t catch them.

regulus— who obviously didn't identify as an eagle— whispered to you, without looking up from his book, "your brother's hiding behind the quidditch through the ages, holding it upside down, may i just add."

"and pete— bless his poor heart— has been listening to ms. pince go on about her love for books for fifteen minutes now. i think he hasn't blinked once."

"and my dear brother and lupin have been quiet for too long. i am suspecting they're snogging but that's just me."

you raised a brow, "the chances are more certain than we'd like believe."

regulus smiled as he looked back down at his book again. he tried to concentrate — he really did — but james, who kept glancing up every few seconds to spy on the two of you, was doing a fantastic job of ruining any hope of focus.

it wasn’t the first time james potter had been a distraction. it was, however, the first time regulus had to resist the overwhelming urge to laugh in his face about it.

so with a smirk, he exchanged a look with you and put his hand on your thigh, close enough to make james faint but far enough to keep it comfortable.

and the expected reaction came when james coughed so loudly ms. pince broke eye contact with peter and threw a dirty look at him.

"i think your brother may be dying," regulus chuckled. "should we call madam pomfrey?"

"no, he'll survive," you shrugged. "he deserves to choke a bit after spying on us."

right on cue, remus and sirius emerged behind the bookshelf and subtly walked by near you. they 'appeared' to be chatting but stopped as soon as they were close enough and gave a nervous chuckle simuntaneously when you made eye contact. "y/n, reg, we didn't expect to see you here."

"funny, cause i wasn't even aware you knew the way to the library, sirius." regulus raised a brow.

"i was just here to get...." he nervously looked around and grabbed the nearest book from the shelf, "... the copy of ancient runes."

"firstly, you're holding charms for charmers: impressing dates with magic and modesty, which i didn't think you had an issue with." you pointed out as regulus continued.

"and secondly, you dropped out of ancient runes two years ago."

"well, i am... revisiting." sirius stammered.

regulus tilted his head slightly. “you know, if you’re revisiting your studies, i’d be happy to tutor you.”

“in ancient runes?” sirius asked, suspicious.

“in subtlety,” regulus replied, deadpan.

"okay, enough. you both know, we know, james knows, peter knows and even ms. pince knows why we are here." remus started, rubbing his forhead as if having a migraine.

sirius opened his mouth.

“don’t,” remus cut in, not even looking at him. “you’re holding a book on magical flirting. the subtlety ship has sailed.”

regulus stifled a laugh and muttered. “and sunk.”

james taking the moment, barges over to the table, "alright, regulus keep your hand away from my sister, and y/n you're grounded."

"you can't ground me." you argued.

james put his hand on his heart, "yes, i can. i emotionally can."

"how does that even work?" you asked indecorously.

"it doesn't, so we're not doing it." remus interuppted. "y/n, regulus, we just want to ask you both, very calmly about what your intentions are with each other?"

"i'll take it from here, moony." sirius slid on the chair in front of you. "so, where were you the night of your first hogsmeade date?"

james, also slid next to sirius. "i told you he's not good for you."

"he didn't force you into anything, right?" sirius whispered to which you and regulus gave him a concerned (for him) look.

"he dresses up too nicely. that's suspicious."

"how often do you guys fight? is it more than how you guys kiss?"

"he wears a pressed tie, that's so weird."

"did you know he once kicked our family cat in the morning while walking down the stairs?"

"he once sat on a bug and didn't even apologize to it."

"he-" sirius continued but was stopped by you reaching over the table and holding them both by their ears. "ow ow ow ow! woman, are you crazy?"

"say that you won't speak a word until me and reg are done talking. say it!"

when they didn't budge, you pulled harder on their ears, "your sister is crazy!"

"she learnt it from mum. okay, okay, fine. we won't speak a word."

you eyed them suspiciously, "you promise?"

"we promise."

you released their ears hesitantly as you settled back into your seat. "okay, so obviously we're not going to answer your questions/accusations. but to calm your dumb minds, i'll just say that we're not just messing around. we love each other. we are in love."

"you are?" james asked as sirius looked as if he was half about to cry.

you and regulus looked at each other for a second as you smiled, "we are."

"oh my little sister and my.. regulus (?) i'm so happy for you too." james gushes as he nearly jumps over the table to hug you both. sirius on the other hand had a breakdown already with remus rushing over to comfort him, "they're in love. that's the sweetest thing i've ever heard."

"james, i can't breathe." you muffled out from between his very powerful hug.

james chuckled. "of course you can't silly. because regulus here stole your breathe."

"no, dummy. i genuinely can't breathe." you smacked his head. "i think you can call pete over now. that boy hasn't blinked for so long he's crying. but i think madam pince thinks it's because of her emotional book ending."

peter walked over a minute later with tearful eyes, "she wouldn't stop. she thought i related to the protaganist."

requested by ! anonymous

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[lovely-peace]

Embarrassing!

Summary: The marauders are popular in school, sure. But that doesn't mean that they are really nice. In the end you are just living the basic high-school experience.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: Low self esteem, past bullying?, This is no bully! Marauders fic!!

Part 2 Part 3

"You four back there, pull yourselves together now or I'll break you up!"

James' laughter could be heard all the way to the front, to my ears, along with the giggling of the girls next to me.

Great. So I must have been wrong again.

Professor McGonagall was now looking at me, teachingly. "To get back on topic. You have the right idea, but it's not quite that simple. To transform a body, it is of great importance…"

~

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. You weren't that far off the mark." Lily tried to comfort me. That was easy for her to say, she would never be wrong.

And the golden git Gryffindors would never make fun of her.

"Maybe."

"Evans, will you come here?" There stood the loverboy James, ready to have another go at her.

Lily rolled her eyes and smiled apologetically at me. "Don't take these idiots seriously, okay?"

With that, she walked in his direction, and did just that.

But I shouldn't be so hard on her because she was really trying to cheer me up, even though we're not really friends. She's clearly, well, more present than my friend Amy and me.

Amy was Gryffindor just like me, but didn't have transfiguration. She called the subject "A walking unnecessary babble".

Oh how I wish I had thought that when I chose my subjects.

I could still see Sirius grinning as James talked to Lily, Remus just stood there ashamed and Peter patted him on the shoulder.

Sirius noticed my look and whispered something to Remus, who flinched and turned away. I snorted.

Sirius' laughter was still ringing loudly in my ears, long after I had escaped to Amy's and my dorm.

~

"Well, I think they're really annoying. That's all." Amy pushed a plate of dinner towards me. She immediately realized something was wrong and I wasn't ready to go to dinner. I was very glad she was so good at the invisibility spell.

"Yes, but everyone likes them. Even Lily likes the four of them, even though she's always upset about them!" I groaned loudly and accepted the plate gratefully.

Amy looked at me with a smile. "Well, I don't really like them. They're entertaining, but I think they lack empathy."

"I think they're all stupid ego centers who only make themselves so important because they actually feel so bad about themselves." I took a big bite.

"And yet you can't stop talking about the four of them." Amy was grinning now. "I thought you said the other day that 'Remus isn't actually that bad and nice to talk to'?"

I almost choked at the mention of meeting the quieter boy of the group. It had been three months since we had met and talked in the library.

"That was something else. He just watches and lets the others get away with everything." I quietly turned to my food and Amy dropped the subject.

Oh, how I hated this cycle. Getting up. Eating at a house table where I know everyone and yet no one really. Subjects in which I will eventually make a mistake. Skipping meals to avoid the stares. Sleeping.

Hogwarts isn't that different from other schools. The same faces making fun of the same things. But we're all supposed to be adults soon, aren't we?

I should stop before I sound like an angsty teen.

~

Breakfast. New day, same course. I sat down opposite Amy and a laugh escaped my lips at one of her jokes.

But then another girl sat down next to me. Marlene McKinnon.

"Hey, you two, how are you?" she smiled, but something made me uncomfortable.

"Good, good." Amy laughed. "And you?"

"Oh, just fine." Marlene looked at my plate as if to check something. Suddenly I felt uncomfortable having a few chocolate cookies in the morning.

She turned to me. Oh no.

"Hey, this might be a bit sudden, but I'd like to know something." There was this twinkle in her eye that I didn't like at all.

I looked at Amy, who just shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay?" Very carefully. Don't make any big mistakes.

"If you had to date someone from Gryffindor, who would it be?"

I looked confusedly at Amy, who had to pull herself together not to burst out laughing.

"What?"

Marlene shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I was just a bit curious as I've never seen you in a relationship with anyone before."

I saw her eyes twitch briefly to the right. When I looked in that direction, not very inconspicuously, I saw Sirius whispering something to James. He grinned at Remus in response.

Oh.

"Well, I can't really think of anyone right now, sorry Marlene."

She looked at me in surprise and wanted to say something, but Amy gasped in shock. Shocked, she clutched her chest. "After everything we've been through!" she didn't exactly say that quietly. To my dismay, quite a few heads turned towards us. Including the idiots.

"Amy-" I began, but she talked herself into her theater rage. "Hush! I don't want to hear any excuses! I thought we were something special! But no. In the end, I'm just another one of the many picks that will never be taken." She stood up. She skillfully looked away and took in the audience. "I can reassure you. I was prepared for all of this."

"Amy, it's not what you think!" I played along a little now. "I couldn't be so open about something so… Say something like that!"

Amy furrowed her brow. "Girl, no homo."

The Gryffindor table laughed and we fled the room.

Outside, we also laughed a bit, but Amy quickly composed herself.

"Did you see how he looked at you?"

I furrowed my brow. "Who?"

She rolled her eyes. "Remus, of course."

"Maybe it's because you made a big show," I said playfully, heading towards our next class.

"Hmm, but I think then he wouldn't have looked at you so longingly-"

"Amy!"

"With red cheeks and big heart eyes!" I walked faster while she laughed.

"That's all nonsense. Marlene only asked because one of those idiots requested it."

Amy looked at me confused. "Why would they do that?"

"Oh, they were looking at us too. And yesterday they were whispering among themselves. They probably find me really funny."

Amy became very quiet after that.

The only sounds were our footsteps and voices in the distance.

"You know," Amy began quieter than usual. "It's not like it used to be. We're all slowly growing up. We're not the odd ones out anymore. I think," she took a deep breath. "That the four of them won't make fun of us, of you, anymore."

How much I wished I could believe that. But I won't be able to, even if Remus talks to me in the library or Peter asks me if I like certain creatures.

Because in the end, I gave up on that a long time ago.

[bunniebubbleswrites]

My Love, Mine, All Mine

Agatha Harkness x F! Reader Chapter 1: Welcome to Westview | Chapter 2

A/N: Okay first time writing for Agatha so please forgive me, also this fic just stemmed from an loose idea I had when watching WandaVision, but I hope everyone enjoys it! Be warned there very well might be smut later on. Words: 1,244 Warnings/Tags: None for this chapter,not beta read,slow-burn Summary: You were living a peacful life in Westview when Wanda Maximoff rolled into town and with her arrival came Agatha's as well.

You had moved to Westview to get away from it all. Your old life, your old coven, and Agatha Harkness.

You had kept a low profile for years. Not staying in one place too long, constantly changing who you were to hide. Keeping to the old ways, only using your magic when you had to.

When you moved to Westview, you did it out of necessity. Just like you did everything, but the small town was growing on you. The longer you stayed, the longer you put off running.

It was almost perfect, but one thing was missing. Something you would never get back, and you had tried.

For the most part everything was normal, you had a job at the local library and were close to your neighbors. Everything you had told them was true, just with a little tweaking. You changed dates, and left out the murdery bits. You had been a different witch back then.

The Darkhold had corrupted you. You were glad it was out of your hands, even if you fought it at first.

Agatha had been your friend, at first. You had both just lost everything. She had lost her only son, and your coven had banished you. They were kind enough to let you walk away with your magic intact.

You and Agatha had run together for years, committing unspeakable acts if evil. Everything in you told you to hate her, but you just couldn't.

The last you you has seen her she had taken the Darkhold and you both fought, blasting magic at each other. You knew it was futile but you fought her anyways. You were surprised you came out of that fight alive.

The only witch to fight Agatha Harkness and walk out alive was a feat in and of itself. You never understood why she left you alive, but maybe it was because she felt something for you, like you did for her.

When Wanda Maximoff came rolling into town, you were lounging on your couch, your familiar laying on your lap. A book in one hand, the other on your familiars head, giving gentle scratches. A soft humming coming from your lips.

The blast from the Hex made you fall of your couch, your familiar going down with you. The book went flying from your hands and landed on the other side of your coffee table.

"Marceline, you okay?" You said as you sit up, the hidden runes on your walls glowing pink. Your familiar meows at you and makes her way around the couch. You groan as you plop back onto the floor and close your eyes.

Marceline lets out another meow. You open your eyes and Marceline's yellow eyes bore into yours.

"Fine I'll go check it out." You sigh as you sit up again and stand. You walk over towards the large window.

You pull back your curtains just slightly. Your eye's widen at the sight. The entire world was black and white. The flowers in your garden, your car, the purple of your front door. You pull back your curtains even further, they're still the same shade of black. Too dark to blend in.

You bite your lip, hesitating. You hadn't used your magic like this in a long time. Marceline lets out another meow.

"Yes, yes I know." You ball your hand into a fist. " It's just been awhile."

You step back from the curtain, another meow.

"I'm doing it alright." You whip your head around as you whisper out the worlds. You take a deep breath, slowing moving your hands. A pink glow forming between them.

It's a simple glamour spell. You can do this.

You let the words come out, and toss the spell towards your curtains. You put your arms down and let out a shaky breath as the spell works it way through your house to hide yourself.

"I have a feeling I'm going to be doing a lot more of that." You let out a laugh as you walk back over to the window, pulling back your curtains once again.

You look up and see a flash of purple.

There she was in all her witchy glory, landing on Westviews newest residents doorstep. Agatha looks back over her shoulder, a plant in her hands. You quickly step back and curse under your breath.

"Shit, shit, shit." You rush over to your front door and turn the locks. Did she see you? She must have, she winked at you. You rush up the stairs and into your bed room and pull open the closet doors. You half to have something in here.

You weren't getting caught today, let alone by Agatha Harkness. You pull out a long brown pleated skirt, a plain white button down, and one of your many cardigans. Along with a very old pair of saddle shoes.

Marceline hops up onto your bed, curling up near your pillows.

"We're going to be fine Marceline, we'll just have to ride it out is all. Blend in, nothing we haven't done before." You toss your pajamas off and onto the floor. You pull your button down over your shoulders and start closing your buttons. "Just with more magic that normal." You slip into your skirt and as you walk over to your dresser and rummage around for a pair of socks.

You look back over your shoulder at the black cat curled up against your pillows.

"Don't give me that look. I don't like it either, but we need to blend and this is what we have to do. Agatha and this new witch are very powerful. As soon as we can, we'll run for the hills." You finally find a matching pair of socks and sit down on your bed with them in hand.

A meow comes from behind you as you slip your socks and shoes on.

"What do you think I'm doing?" You walk over to your vanity and think about what to do with your hair. " I'm going to go be neighborly."

With a swish of your hand, your hair was up in a pony tail and a headband was added for accessory.

You stood from your vanity and walked back over to your bed. Your hand found Marceline's head and you gave her a couple of scratches.

"Be a good girl. I'll be back in a jiffy."

You rush down the stairs and stand hesitantly at your front door.

"It's okay you can do this." You whisper to yourself, with a shaky hand you turned the lock on your front door, and step out closing the door behind you.

Your outfit turning black and white, with the outside surroundings.

You still got it.

With a smile you walk over to the new house down the block. As you approached the front porch you fiddle with the ring on your middle finger.

You knock on the door and suddenly panic, you should have brought something. A simple spell and you had a container of cookies in your hands.

A women opens the door, and you smile at her.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N). I live down the block and thought I would bring you some cookies." You hand her the tin and give a shy smile.

"Hello (Y/N). I'm Wanda."

She moves aside to let you into the house. You walk in, and when you turn to walk into the living room there she is.

Agatha Harkness herself.

[ellealyssum]

well-read ✦ zayne x reader ✦ fluff/smut ✦ 2.6k words

You knew better, but the little terror that lives in your brain that loves sowing seeds of doubt tells you that your loving boyfriend is actually keeping his distance because he thinks you're into tentacle porn now. Zayne likes to know what you're reading. It's not what he was expecting.

p in v sex, fingering, established relationship, yes they use protection, bookworm!reader, fem!reader, not suitable for readers under 18

okay so i'm like halfway through 'stalked by the kraken' by lillian lark and that's what inspired this. plus i need zayne immediately. (also if you're into tentacles that's cool they're just not my cup of tea personally)

also on ao3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 If Zayne were to write a list of things he loves about you it would be miles long. Just one of the things on that list would be your love of reading. 

 Zayne was a reader himself, although he spent most of his time with his nose in medical texts. As important as it was for him to keep up with the latest research in cardiology, he often wished he had the time to sit down with a different genre occasionally. Honestly, he was a little envious of you. You somehow always found time to read. Whether it be during lunch breaks, before bed, or even just for ten spare minutes while you were waiting for dinner to cook, you most likely had a book in your hand. And your library was vast. You devoured everything from epic fantasy to poetry to non-fiction on any topic that caught your interest. Zayne adored your intellectual curiosity. He was a firm believer that making time for reading was a good habit of self-improvement. So naturally, he took an interest in your current choice of book.

 It was later than he would have liked, bordering on 9pm. The smell of stir-fry and rice hits him as he walks through his front door. He spots you, curled up on his couch with a cup of tea and an open book in your lap. Flipping the volume closed with a satisfying thump, you meet his gaze with a bright smile.

 "Welcome home, love. I left some dinner for you on the counter."

 God, you were so good to him.

 "Thank you," he murmurs, making his way over to give you a chaste kiss. "I'll go and wash up first. Go back to your book."

 You don't need to be told twice. You were still in the exact spot he'd left you once he returned, donning a comfortable shirt and sweatpants with a contentedly full stomach.

 "Thank you for cooking, sweetheart. It was delicious."

 You don't close your book this time, used to a quiet after-dinner routine of flipping through your respective literature. 

 "No problem. I had to cook for myself, anyway, so I just made double of everything."

"Well, I still appreciate it," he adds, sinking into the sofa beside you.

 His eyes fall to your book. He couldn't tell what it was from the cover. You often covered your books with a simple strip of craft paper to ward off curious looks from your coworkers when you read on breaks. You simply didn't think they needed to know what you were reading about every day. You preferred to be inconspicuous, so a blank cover on one of your books was not an abnormal sight.

 "What are you reading?"

 It was a question he had asked hundreds of times, and that you had always been more than happy to answer. So the blush tinging your cheeks and the nervous twitch of your fingers was very odd, indeed.

 "Oh, it's just more paranormal fiction," you explain, conveniently moving the book away from him and placing it on the side table.

 "Just paranormal fiction, huh?" He strokes the backs of his fingers along your pink cheek. It was blissfully warm.

 "What has you acting so suspiciously then, hmm?"

 You huff and roll your eyes at him, the way you often did when he'd caught on to something you'd rather him not know.

 "It's..." Your brow furrows as if trying to solve a particularly difficult riddle. He gestures for you to keep talking. "It's a romance. A paranormal romance."

 He was a little underwhelmed by your response. You were known to enjoy a romantic film when you watched movies together, so why would reading a romance be a source of embarrassment?

 "Sweetheart, we've been together for months. We see each other almost every day. You think I don't know you enjoy a little romance?"

 You let out an exasperated sigh. 

 "It's just that... it's not a normal romance. It's... explicit."

 He couldn't help but chuckle. 

 "You don't need to feel any shame about reading erotica, my love. Especially not around me. You know, the man you're sleeping with?"

 "I know that." You turn in your seat to look at him now. "It's not exactly normal erotica, either."

 Oh, now he's intrigued.

 "How so?"

 He swears he sees a glint in your eye before you reach behind you and hand the book in question to him.

 "See for yourself."

・・・・・

 It had been two days since you'd last seen Zayne. Not for any particular reason, you were both just busy with work and hadn't had the time to communicate much outside of a few quick texts. This wasn't out of the ordinary, but you can't help but feel anxious.

 You shouldn't have given him that damned book.

 You didn't even care that it was your only copy and that you couldn't keep reading it. You knew better, but the little terror that lives in your brain that loves sowing seeds of doubt tells you that your loving boyfriend is actually keeping his distance because he thinks you're into tentacle porn now.

 That wasn't even true. Yes, the book you were reading was a romance about a woman who falls in love with (and fucks, multiple times) a kraken. Yes, it was pretty hot. But tentacles have never been something you've sought out and that wasn't about to change. This particular book was highly recommended on the few online forums you browsed, so you had decided to give it a shot, just out of curiosity.

 You think about your sweet, mostly-vanilla Dr. Zayne reading the sex scenes in that book and you wish time travel were feasible so you could go back in time and snatch it away from the version of yourself that for some reason thought it would be a funny idea to give it to him.

 But for now you needed to stop spiralling, because said sweet doctor was set to arrive at your apartment with dinner any minute now.

 Another five minutes and he was standing in your doorway, take-out in hand and looking surprisingly... relaxed? Changing into the house slippers you kept for him, he greeted you with a sweet kiss and began serving the food onto plates.

 Strange. You thought for sure he'd have at least some reaction. Maybe he hadn't read the book at all and you'd been worrying yourself to the point of being nauseous over absolutely nothing. Yes, that was probably it. He was a busy cardiac surgeon! Of course he hadn't had time to read your silly book.

 You managed to reassure yourself enough to enjoy a relaxing meal, the both of you filling each other in on your busy work days. Being the gentleman he was, Zayne followed you into the kitchen to help wash up once you were both done. He'd just handed you the last of the utensils to dry when he softly cleared his throat.

 "I read some of the book you leant me." You immediately freeze, not knowing what to expect. "I didn't realise you were into... that sort of thing."

 You bury your face in the towel you were holding. Oh God, he did think you were into tentacles now.

 "I fear I may lack the equipment necessary to act on such desires though."

 You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His brow is furrowed. He looks almost disappointed that he doesn't have tentacles. Oh God.

 "I'm not into tentacles." Your voice is quiet. Embarrassed. 

 His relief is immediate. You might have laughed if you hadn't been so mortified. 

 "Well, what is it you do enjoy about the book, then? You were quite engrossed in it the other evening."

 You sit yourself on the countertop with a huff. There was no avoiding the topic now. When Zayne wanted to know something, he was going to find out.

 "It's not about the... appendages," you explain earnestly. "It's the emotions. It's about trusting someone so much you can show them your entire self, even in an intimate situation.

 He nodded, considering your words, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Speaking of intimate situations, fuck this man was hot when he was deep in thought. It was unfair.

 "Very insightful, love." He steps closer to you and you squeeze your thighs together a little in anticipation.

 "It seems I need to revisit the story."

 And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves you sitting on the counter all by yourself, stunned.

 Now you really regretted giving him that damned book.

・・・・・

 It had only been fifteen minutes but you were getting desperate. Fifteen minutes of using scrolling on your phone as a front for staring at him as he read. His foot was balanced on the opposite knee and is long fingers were splayed over the cover, occasionally coming up to readjust his glasses. You cross and re-cross your legs for what must be the tenth time. You can feel your clit throbbing, begging for some attention. You weren't even the one reading smut and somehow it was you fast approaching becoming a writhing mess. How was he so unaffected? He looked like he could be reading through medical files he was so nonchalant. What did he need to re-read this book now for anyway?

  "Zayne?" you ask in a feeble attempt to break his concentration.

 "Hmmm?" He doesn't even look up.

 Fuck this.

 Before you can chicken out you're striding over to him, taking the cursed book, knocking his foot to the ground and straddling him on your couch.

 "Enough reading." You let the book drop unceremoniously onto the carpet behind you.

 His shock only last for half a second before he's digging his fingers into your hips and pulling you closer.

 "Thank God, I didn't know how much longer I could last."

 You look down at him quizzically. "How much longer you could last?"

 He groans and pulls you in even further. He's already hard under you.

 "Thinking about you reading those things. Getting all hot and bothered. Touching yourself." Each sentence is punctuated with an open-mouthed kiss to your neck and collarbones. "I've been hard since I left the kitchen."

 "And so you sat down and read for twenty minutes? Silly man." You start unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to have your hands on his skin.

 "I wanted to give your very considered response to my question the thought it deserved." You ran your hands down his bare chest, enjoying the feeling of the ridges of his muscles against your fingertips. 

 "And what is your conclusion, Dr. Zayne?"

 His hands slide back to grip your ass. "You're the smartest, sexiest woman I've ever laid eyes on. I am in awe of you."

 You cup his cheeks in both hands, losing yourself in his beautiful eyes. No matter how many romance novels you read, no one could compare to this man.

 "You're perfect," is all you manage to get out before you bring your lips to his, so overwhelming is your need for him.

 You could kiss him forever and it still wouldn't be enough. Your hips have a mind of their own, rubbing your pussy along the ridge of his cock, the friction of the clothing between you adding to the heat between your thighs. You break apart to work off his shirt and he pulls your dress and bra down in one swift movement, baring your breasts to him, your nipples peaked and dusky pink. He immediately latches on, sucking one of the sensitive buds into his warm mouth. He's always been a sucker for your tits. Literally. 

 He works both your nipples, teasing and pinching whichever one is not in his mouth, being grazed against his teeth. Your arms are trapped at your sides under the straps of your dress and all you can do is moan wantonly and grind against thighs before he releases your tit with an audible pop.

 "Fuck, Zayne, more." You're begging him. Your pussy is dripping and so, so empty.

 "I know, darling, I know." He moves your dress up this time, removing it completely and leaving you just in your drenched panties. "Here or bedroom?" he asks.

 "Here. Can't wait." 

 He lifts you up slightly so you're hovering over him and moves your panties to the side, sliding two long fingers between your lips. "You're drenched," he notes, with a reverence to his voice.

 "Zayne, please."

 He doesn't make you wait, pushing both fingers into your cunt. You lean your head on his shoulder, mouth open, panting. His fingers pump in and out slowly, the soft squelching sounds they make driving you closer to the edge. His thumb rubs little circles into your aching clit, just the way you like it. And then he stops.

 You can't help the drawn out whine that leaves your throat.

 "Love, I'm sorry, but with you whining in my ear like that, if I don't get my cock inside you right now I'm going to come in my pants."

 You move quickly, unzipping his trousers and pulling out his dick, slightly curved and pink at the tip, shiny with his precum. He reaches into his back pocket for a condom and rolls it onto his length with swift strokes. His hands grip your thighs and he lets out a groan as you drag his tip along your swollen pussy, wetting him with your slick. He looks up at you, eyes dark with lust. "Ride me, sweetie."

 Your moans tangle together as you sink down onto his cock, taking him to the hilt. The perfect fit, every time. He's watching you with pure love on his face. "You're so gorgeous." His hands spread across your ass, helping you slide up and down along his length. "Touch your clit, baby. I want you to come for me." You think you could orgasm from his voice alone in this moment, but you do as he asks, your cunt clenching around him as you roll the stiff bundle of nerves between your fingers.

 "Close," you pant, eyes almost rolling into the back of your head. His cock feels so good inside you, stretching you just the right amount. "Come with me, Zayne, please, I need you." You're babbling, but he must hear you because he thrusts upwards into you, mouth on your tits again, chasing his high along with yours.

 Your orgasm rips through you, your head thrown back as you body twitches in pleasure. After a few more thrusts the spasms of your hole around his length has him pulling your bodies flush together as his cock jerks inside you while he comes.

 It takes you a moment to collect yourself, becoming aware of the sweat covering you and the wet mess you've left on Zayne's pants beneath your thighs. He pulls you in for a deep kiss before slowly pulling out of you. "I love you."

 You smile into his kiss. "I love you, too, my big snowman." 

 He runs his fingers through your hair as you rest your head on his chest, waiting for your breathing to regulate.

 "We should get cleaned up." You grunt in agreement but make no move to do so. Your eyes wander around the room, landing on the book you'd so carelessly tossed to the floor.

 "How much of that book did you read, anyway?" 

 He glances at where it landed. "Only up to your bookmark. I figured I should read the same amount as you as to properly gauge your thoughts on it."

 Always so thorough, your doctor.

 "How about we read some more? Together?" you suggest.

 You shriek as he stands up, picking you up with him, and starts carrying you towards the bathroom.  

 "An excellent idea as always, my love."

[kpop---scenarios]

Whispers Of The Night (4)

Pairing: Stray Kids x Reader

Genre: Vampire! Au, College! Au

Warning: Not much, next chapter will be smut. This is an 18+ ONLY story; MDNI

Summary: You just want to live a happy life, but currently, that wasn't happening. It's not until you meet 8 strangers who turn your life upside down and you discover what they are.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: as always, thank you @skzdust for putting up with me sending you paragraphs all the time and giving input. I'd be lost without you!

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“I was…there…then…Jeongin…” you mumble to yourself, pacing around your room. “And then I was here. Ugh!” You groan, throwing your hands up in the air. You distinctly remembered standing on the front porch with Jeongin, staring into his eyes, but why were you staring into his eyes? What happened after? How can you not remember the rest of the night? Did you black out? Can weed even make you blackout? No, you were sure that wasn't even a possible thing.

There was only one thing you could possibly do. Confront Jeongin. You skipped getting dressed, leaving your room in your sleep shorts and tank top, practically stomping down the stairs.

“Jeongin!” You yell, stopping in the kitchen. You look around, seeing him standing in the living room, alone, like a deer in headlights. “You!” You yell, stomping towards him.

“Yes?” He asks, smiling sweetly.

“What did you do to me last night?” You asked.

“What are you talking about?” He chuckles.

“We were standing on the porch, I remember staring into your eyes… then I woke up in my bed this morning.” You say, crossing your arms.

“Yeah? You were talking to me, absolute gibberish by the way, and then you just, like, passed out.” He explains. “So I took you upstairs and put you to bed.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don't remember that.” You say.

“You were pretty high.” He laughs.

You never lost your memory from smoking weed, but to be fair it had been quite a while since you'd smoked so maybe it was because your body wasn't used to it anymore.

“Huh.” You murmur. You weren't sure if he believed him, but you'd accept it, for now. “Okay. Thanks.” You finish, turning around to walk away.

You headed back upstairs to get dressed for the day, needing to get to the library to study for your upcoming test. You needed the quiet. You had tried to study at the house the other day, but watching those 8 men walk around the house, sometimes shirtless, was extremely distracting.

Thankfully, there weren't many people in the library. You picked a table out of the way, setting up your laptop. You pulled out your headphones, your phone and your textbook, ready to get to work. You were going to fail this exam, you just knew it. You desperately needed to study. And you tried. But your brain could not stop racing about the men who you lived with. There was something off about them, their pale skin, piercing eyes, extreme strength. Not to mention they're much more rowdy at night time, and the fact that you had never seen them eat a single thing. Your mind immediately goes to vampires, but that couldn't be right. There's no way that vampires could be a thing right now and no one was talking about it.

With your brain spinning, you closed the empty Google docs tab, and instead opened up Google. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you heavily debated on whether or not you should actually type the word into the search engine. You felt stupid thinking that they could be vampires, but that was the only plausible explanation for the weirdness that was in that house. Taking a deep breath, you typed it in, and more information that you expected popped up within seconds. You clicked the first link, scanning the page, but it didn't give you much. You scrolled through a few other pages but there was nothing that hadn't been talked about before, until, you were just about to exit the page you were on when a single word caught your eye.

Compulsion.

Just as you were about to read more, a familiar voice calls out to you. “Y/N. Why are you reading about vampires?” He says. You quickly close your laptop, turning around to see Mark standing there.

“What do you want?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Why are you googling vampires?” He asks, pulling a chair out from the table to sit with you.

“Why are you sitting at my table? And why do you care?” You sigh.

“Because I love you. And I want to get you back. So I figured I'd take interest in your interests.” He grins.

“It's a little too late for that, Mark. I'm going to tell you right now, I won't ever be getting back together with you.” You laugh. “That's so far off the table, it's burning in hell. Now go away.”

“Y/N, come on.” He sighs. “There has to be something I can do to make you trust me again.”

“There's nothing you can do. I don't want you anymore. I'm not sure why you can't get that through your thick fucking skull.” You half yell. You can hear people turning in their chairs to look at you. You let out a breath, trying to calm yourself down. “Look, Mark. We tried, and it didn't work out. You're not ready for a relationship because you can't be faithful. So stop it and leave me alone.” You finish, starting to pack up your belongings.

Mark mutters swear words under his breath. “Y/N..” He starts. You ignore him, continuing to finish packing your things. “Y/N, stop.” He says. “Fuck, I asked you to stop.” He shouts, grabbing your arm. You stare at him, your eyes darting between his hand on your arm and him.

Before you can tell him to release you, you feel someone standing beside you. You look up, seeing Hyunjin standing there, clenching his jaw. “If you want to keep that arm, you better fucking let go of her.” He snaps.

“Oh yeah? She's my girlfriend, I can do whatever the fuck I want.” Mark says, standing up, his hand still on your arm.

Hyunjin laughs. “She's not your girlfriend. You fucked that up, so like I said. Let go of her, before you're down a girlfriend and a fucking arm.”

“Am I supposed to be scared of you, pretty boy?” Mark laughs, looking between you and Hyunjin.

“If I were you..” Hyunjin begins in a whisper. “I'd be fucking petrified.”

“Such bullshit.” Mark grunts, letting go of your arm. “I'll be back!” He yells, pointing to you before walking off.

“Thanks.” You say to Hyunjin, grabbing your bag.

“Can I take you home?” He asks.

You wanted to say yes, but you didn't want to accidentally blurt out what you were thinking or what you had been researching. Not until you read everything you could possibly find, and not until you felt sure of your findings. You can't accuse people of being vampires and not have the information to back up your claims. What if they laughed at you because it wasn't true? So embarrassing.

You contemplated the world you lived in on your way home. Could you really live in a world where vampires exist and no one knows about them? That's one part that was mind boggling to you. Did other supernatural creatures also exist? Werewolves? Mermaids? Your mind was racing with all sorts of thoughts, you hadn't realized that you already had made it home. You stood outside the door, part of you felt a little scared to go inside

but the other part of you didn't care. They were kind to you, they housed you, fed you. They took care of you and protected you. None of them had ever given you a reason not to trust them but you were just so curious about what they were hiding. It had to be that.

You walked into the quiet house, they must all be out. You walk through the living room, stopping in front of a door you've passed countless times but never had been through. You were always curious about what was in the room. You were all alone, so why not? You place your hand on the knob, slowly turning it to open. You pull the door, when suddenly there's a hand on the door, slamming it shut. You jump back, looking at Minho, who stands there, looking angry.

“No.” He deadpans.

“Oh. Is that…” you trail off.

“It's just off limits.” he says.

“I didn't know.” You murmur.

“Now you do.” He smiles, moving his hand and walking away.

You swore no one was here. He came out of nowhere. You take your things, going back upstairs to your room. Settling down on your bed, you pull out your laptop, the page loading to the one you were on before Mark so rudely interrupted you.

“Compulsion” you read. “the ability of vampires to control the minds of others, often through eye contact. Compelled beings typically follow the vampire's instructions, which can include erasing memories, developing new skills, or creating new personalities.”

You sit back. Staring at the wall. Breathing. “Erasing memories.” You whisper to yourself. Was that what Jeongin did to you? Did he erase your memory of that night? Did something happen that could have outed him? You turned your computer around, laying down on your stomach, determined to do more research on the subject as a whole. Hours pass as you click link, after link, after link. Finally you ended up on a blog page called “Just Vampire Things.” The entire thing was clearly not a legit page, it was cutesy, colorful and honestly not very vampirey. You were giggling at the photos as you scrolled down, now more so just enjoying the obvious photoshopped pictures, until you got to the writing.

“How to kill a vampire.” You whisper. “What the…” you pause, reading a little more. “This page is for vampire hunters, learning how to kill vampires. First you need a sharp oak steak.” You rolled your eyes and as you were about to close the page, your bedroom door burst open, with Changbin skipping into your room.

“How to kill a…” he trails off. He looks at you, worriedly before cracking a big smile. “Are you reading Just Vampire Things?” He laughs. You close your laptop.

“What do you need, world's worst barista?” You ask.

He puts his hand over his heart. “Ouch.” He hisses. “You hurt me. Right there, y/n.” He says, patting his chest. “A few of us have to go out, but there's stuff in the fridge for dinner. Help yourself to whatever.” He says, walking out of your room. You crawl off your bed, heading down into the kitchen quietly. You had thought they all left, but it wasn't until you heard whispers in the living room did you realize that you weren't alone.

“I don't know, Chan.” You hear Jeongin sigh. “I feel like shit. I lied to her, and I don't like it. I don't want her to be mad at me. She saw the blood around my mouth… I panicked.” He says.

“Listen, it will all come out in time. But she just got here. We can't bombard her with all this information right off the bat. She'll run so fucking fast. And that's the last thing any of us want, right?” Chan says.

“No.” Jeongin sighs. “None of us want her to leave.”

“We'll tell her everything. Okay? Just be patient. I gotta go meet the others, just stick to the plan for now.” Chan finishes. You hear the front door closed, and Jeongin letting out a sigh of relief. You don't hear anything else. You walk to the living room quietly, looking around. Jeongin isn't there. Your eyes land on the door again. Them telling you it's off limits only makes you want to go down there even more. You look around one more time, double checking to make sure that he wasn't around. Once you felt like it was safe you quickly and quietly wrapped your hand around the door knob, slowly turning it, pulling it open. You see a set of stairs, leading down into the dark. A strong metallic smell hits your nose, making you nauseous. Your stomach twists as you lift your leg, preparing to take the first step down into the dark. Before you can, you're pushed out of the way, and the door is slammed shut. Jeongin grabs your shoulders, pushing you against the door.

“I thought you were told his room was off limits?” He breathes.

“I didn't think anyone was home.” You whisper.

“You're never here alone, y/n.” He says. “When we tell you something, it's because we're protecting you.”

“Were you protecting me when you compelled me?” You blurt out. Jeongin's eyes go wide.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” He says.

“Don’t lie to me.” You hiss, avoiding eye contact. “I heard you talking to Chan. All of you are hiding something from me and I know what it is.” You say.

“Y/N, you need to stop. You don't know what you're talking about.” Jeongin says. “Look at me.”

“No.” You say, looking away.

“Y/N, look at me.” He says again.

This time you don't answer. But you also don't look at him.

“You're going to do it again.” You finally whisper.

Jeongin grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I'm sorry.” He whispers. “There's things we need to talk about of course. And that's one of them. But I swear to you, it won't happen again.” He says.

You look him in the eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. Your eyes scan his face, your body heats up. Fuck. You want him. You know you shouldn't but how could you not? Your mouth parts slightly as you stare into his eyes.

He takes a deep breath. Smirking slightly before he leans forward. He looks to you for approval, you nod your head and he crashes his lips to yours. You've wanted this, from any of them since the day you met them. He slips his tongue into your mouth, while effortlessly lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you up the stairs, to what you can only assume is his room, that's never used, never once breaking the kiss. He stands at the foot of his bed, gently tossing you down. You look up at him, biting your lip, while he stares down at you.

“You sure you want this baby girl?” He asks.

You grin as you nod your head.

“Fuck, yes.”

[agroteraa]

Artemis

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Part 2.

Part 1: Actaeon

Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)

Part 3.2: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.2)

Warnings: smut, oral, handjob, penetration sex.

Word Count: 5,5K

After the events of the last night, you didn't join in watching TV with the Cattons and Oliver. No, you weren't tired, but you were overwhelmed with emotions and all that had happened. Besides, you couldn't imagine how you could just go and watch telly with Oliver after that. It would be too embarrassing to pretend that nothing had happened, and you didn't think he'd be able to keep his face either.

So, you just went to your bed, tossing and turning for most of the night, thinking about what scenes in the bathroom. It felt like Oliver's hands were still ghostly wandering all over your body...

You came to breakfast very sleepy and visibly a little lost. It was a beautiful and sunny morning, and all Saltburn habitants were sitting at a table outside and eating various treats.

"Good morning, everyone!" you said, not being able to hold back a yawn.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" Elspeth replied, looking at you worriedly, "Is everything alright?"

Felix echoed his mother's look, slightly raising his eyebrows in concern. The others were busy with their own conversations, and only Oliver silently cast a brief glance at you, returning to eating his full English breakfast.

"Yes, it's okay, I'm just... I couldn't fall sleep for a while."

"Okay," Elspeth nodded, satisfied with your rather innocuous answer.

When you took a seat at the table opposite Oliver, you couldn't look into his eyes, your stomach was twisting, not from the hunger, but from the excitement. You didn't feel like eating at all. Duncan brought you eggs cooked in your favorite way, you nodded gratefully to him, but you were in no hurry to eat. Oliver noticed it.

"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, looking up at you.

"Um, I'm just... I don't know, I guess I'm just not hungry right now."

"Hmm. Well, but I am. I've been hungry since last night. Very much," he chuckled, returning to his meal with appetite.

You gulped. It seems that he didn't mean breakfast at all now?

That had how your morning went, and then you went about your own business. Oliver, Felix, Farleigh and Venetia went to play tennis. You dismissed the game, and even more so there were exactly four of them. Instead, you went for a walk in gardens of Saltburn, read a book in a shady gazebo and muse upon the evening ahead. So, the evening had finally come, forcing the hot sun to forget about itself until the next day.

You thought and decided to politely decline the dinner. To be honest, you were feeling sick with excitement, and you definitely wouldn't be able to eat anything at dinner, especially if Oliver would be looking at you. It was better to seem a little weird now than to get a bunch of unwanted questions later.

Instead, you decided to stay in your room, citing a slight indisposition. You really had it, though, for a different reason. You lied down on the bed and began to remember the last night. His touch, his breathing, his piercing blue eyes that turned dark with desire at that moment... a desire for you.

It was hard to even believe it, but it seemed that was it. Your breathing got heavy when you started running your fingers over your lips, feeling your hot breath on your fingers, because you imagined that it were Oliver's fingers...

... ohh. You definitely needed to do something about it tonight.

* * *

"Where have everyone gone? I've been looking for y’all for half an hour," you said, finding Oliver in the library, who was comfortably settled in an armchair and reading a book.

"They're playing Uno. It seems that Felix and Farleigh will quarrel even more than yesterday over the remote control, and Venetia is also with them."

"Why aren't you with them too?"

"I'm not a fan of these kinds of games," Oliver explained with an emphasis on "these" not even looking up from his book.

"Mm, yes, about Venetia. Although she is not giving concerts in the bathroom tonight, but now there is only cold water running, apparently there is also some kind of heating malfunction, and the second bathroom still has not yet been repaired..."

At this point, Oliver looked up at you, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Oh, really?"

"Mhm..." you confirmed, biting your lip.

He looked at you searchingly, tilting his head slightly to the side. Then, with a rising smile, he replied to you, "Of course. Enjoy yourself," and returned to reading his book. That was it, there was no further reaction or words from Oliver.

"F-fine." That was it? For some reason, you hoped that he would somehow hint that he would also join you, or at least react livelier to your words. But you had no choice but to go back to your room, get a bathrobe and go to that bathroom. You didn't bring a towel. Okay, Oliver, if you wanted to play ignore, we could arrange that.

Going into the bathroom of Oliver and Felix, you began to fill the tub. The room greeted you again with a pleasant dim lighting and the hum of water flowing down. His incomprehensible indifference throughout the day had upset you and even slightly angered you. Therefore, this time you had already put things on Felix's half on purpose and took his towels, no matter what Oliver had asked you to do.

After a while, you sank into the pleasantly hot water and began to wait. More precisely, at first you were really relaxing, but with every passing minute you were rather waiting for Oliver more than enjoying the process. But he did not come.

"Damn," you swore inwardly, and just as you were starting to think about getting out of the bath and getting ready, Oliver walked into the room.

"Hello!-" you started.

"Hi," he replied shortly and walked into his room, hardly looking at you. What?

You changed your mind about getting out of the bathtub right now and decided to sit in it until something would happen. About 5 minutes later Oliver came out, dressed in a domestic white tank top and stiped blue boxers. Your stomach turned over from this intimacy of his outfit. He went to his bathroom table, turned the water on and, as if nothing had happened, began to brush his teeth. He didn't start a conversation with you.

"So, uh, how was your day?" you began hesitantly, turning your head towards him.

"We played tennis, then took a dip in the pool, and then I enjoyed reading in the evening. Well, you’ve seen it."

"Yeah, that’s great..."

"And how was yours?"

"Not like... how I thought it would pass. I think I feel weird..."

"It must be because you didn't sleep well today. Go to bed early, yeah?"

"Huh? Yeah, I guess..."

You were a little lost. You looked at Oliver from behind, but he didn't turn to you. Of course, he was looking at you in the mirror again. He was a little on edge right now. This evening was not going quite the way he had imagined, but it was even intriguing.

The thing was that he had decided not to do anything with the second bathroom today. He overheard a conversation that the first bathroom had not been repaired again today, as the workers had confused the date and would arrive only tomorrow. So, it was even interesting for him to put it in the hands of fate. Would Venetia take over the only left bathroom again? Or would you just come in and innocently, hiding your gaze, ask Felix again or even Oliver himself if you could use their the bathroom again. Or maybe you would silently, struggling with your shame and desire, come to their bathroom and use it, hoping that something similar to the previous time would happen? Oh, he would definitely make your desires, which you were still afraid to admit to yourself, come true.

But no. You came to him and lied to him about the second bathroom, looking straight into his eyes.

"So, Y/N, do you want to remain innocent, but at the same time you know how to lie in your favor? It's interesting. You're beautiful and you did take a sacred bath, and now you really think you can be Artemis in every sense? No, no, no. No. Dear, there can only be one hunter here, and that's me," Oliver thought to himself, "And if you want to play on my field, well, I'll show you how it’s done."

With these thoughts, Oliver bit his lip contentedly, continuing to read the book while you left the library, but his thoughts drifted further and further away from the subject of reading.

At first, he wanted to nonchalantly go into the bathroom and, while he was brushing his teeth, catch your glances with his skin, hear your rapid breathing and catch the sounds of your feet fidgeting in the water. Then, having played enough with this longing, he would help you get out of the bathroom, wipe your beautiful naked hot body with his towel, hold your hands and take you to his room, where he would give you all the pleasure you would wish for. And this time he would have taken everything he wanted from you, enjoying you at its fullest.

But no.

You left your stuff on Felix's side. You took his towels. He told you not to do that.

His teeth almost bit his toothbrush in half when he saw it through the mirror. Was it an act of defiance, a way to attract extra attention, or a way to cause jealousy? Y/N, don't be a fool. But he hated to admit it, that some kind of jealousy had appeared in him anyway, and he was mad about it. No, don't you even dare to think that way. You were his, you would be only his.

The mood for a slow and sensual night has evaporated completely. Right now, Oliver could only bend you over and fuck you properly. Yes, that would be sweet too. But still, he didn't want to ruin everything and start your relationship like this. He'd better go to bed now, and tomorrow he’d know better.

"So, I'm going to bed, too. Good night, Y/N," Oliver said calmly, clutching the toothbrush in his hands with all his might, making it almost break it a second time.

You were left alone in the bathroom. What had happened? Were you too persistent, and Oliver was upset by your persistence? Or was he really that angry about your stuff left on Felix's table? It also occurred to you that he somehow intuitively felt and was upset about your lies, but of course he couldn't know that. But you still felt somehow guilty.

After getting out of the bathtub and draining the water, you dried yourself with a towel and, putting on your bathrobe, leaned your hands on the sink on Felix's side. You looked in the mirror and thought what should you do. No, you couldn't just walk away, there was too much left unsaid.

*Knock-knock*

"Oliver!"

The door opened a crack, in front of you there was Quick looking out of the darkness with his bright blue eyes. He took off his tank top and wore boxers only. You involuntarily looked at his beautiful torso, on which was nothing on but one chain, glittering on the neck. You gulped.

"Yes?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice.

"Can we talk?" this time it was you who walked into his room without waiting for an invitation or even more so a refusal.

You stepped into his dark, moonlit room. He stood a few inches away and silently looked you up and down. You continued, "You've been acting kind of weird all day, I'm sorry if this is me who..."

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience right now.

He silently pulled you to him, kissing you. You were very surprised, but you gave yourself up to this kiss with joy. Oliver kissed you passionately and long, then he took your hand and pulled you towards his bed. He carefully loosened the belt of your robe, admiring you from head to toe. Then he gently but abruptly threw you onto the bed and fell on top of you, leaning on his elbows and knees. Quick started kissing your neck, leaving hot prints of his lips on it, then he kissed your collarbone, then the place between your breasts. You started hugging him harder. Oliver continued his way down, kissing the place under your breasts and then slid his tongue over your stomach all the way to the bottom. You exhaled loudly, moving one hand to his soft hair on his head and squeezing it slightly.

He breathed out contentedly, and you could feel his smile on your skin. Then he cast a brief lustful glance at you, and went down even lower, to the most desired place. He kissed your inner thigh and then placed his lips on your folds. You felt his hot breath for a few seconds, as if he was enjoying this moment and didn't believe in it himself. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity to you, until he ran his tongue over your folds. You were already wet, so wet.

The tip of his tongue began to slowly glide up and down into the sensitive flesh all across your pussy, you left a sharp gasp. It was almost an electric feeling. Then he buried his mouth into you and started to run circles inside you with his wet and hot tongue. You began to moan softly while twitching your legs a little.

His hands were gripping your thighs, pulling your body even closer to his mouth. You buried both of your hands into his dark hair, letting a deep moan. Oliver was massaging your flesh from the inside, he was eating you out, almost humming to himself. Then he returned to caress your sensitive clit. You arched your back and you let out whine, burying hands deeper into his soft locks, almost tugging them. He let out satisfied pant and you looked down at him.

Gosh, he looked absolutely breathtaking, giving you a glare back with his piercing blue eyes on a half-seen face between your legs. And all this was happening in his moonlit room, like in some dark fairytale. It gave you a jolt of pleasure to the point you almost came.

He accelerated his pace and pressure until you tilted back your head and let out a long moan. You began to buck your hips but his hands were holding you firmly it almost hurt. His tongue got sloppy and messy as he feverishly caressed you. You couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Oliver!..” you cried out his name, clenching his head with your legs, his strong hands released the grip.

He raised his head with lips and chin glistening in the dark, panting and smiling. He was looking at your bliss, the result of his work, with indescribable delight. Oliver looked absolutely stunning that way, being covered in your bliss that he gave to you. You had almost come for the second time at that view.

"I'm very glad that you liked it. And now," he leaned up to kiss you briefly on the lips, "It's time to go to bed. Sweet dreams, Y/N, tomorrow will definitely be a better day."

You were surprised that he wanted to end it, but you were barely thinking and were still beside yourself with bliss, so, as if in a fog, you pulled on your bathrobe, nodded to Oliver and left on fast but wobbly legs. It was like you were bewitched and you didn't do it all yourself, but at someone's behest.

Oliver smiled contentedly, falling back onto the bed.

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience, but not to the point where he could completely control himself and not break into a rage that would just tear you apart if he met his desires utterly.

Thus, tonight it would be his hand again, but this was definitely for the last time. Tomorrow he would be counting on your hands and not only on them.

* * *

Tomorrow was definitely a better day. Your appetite had returned, Oliver secretly was moving to you plates with pastries and fruits. You smiled and happily ate everything he offered.

But what happened in the last few nights seemed to remain only there. During the day, there was some kind of different, still a little tense atmosphere. Except that the ambiguity was replaced by a more agitated expectation and intrigue. It was still difficult for both of you to do small talks when the pictures of previous nights were so vivid in your heads.

Tonight was going to be a busy night, because James and Elspeth's friends, numerous Henrys and their wives, came to Saltburn. You also knew many of them, so you spent the whole evening in lively conversations with the exchange of news over the past year, endlessly promising to send greetings to your parents. Oliver seemed to be a little lost, especially at dinner, but you were seated quite far from each other, so even if you decided to talk to him, you couldn't do it. But you nodded at him from the other end of the table, lighting up the whole evening with your smile. He felt much less alone from that moment onwards.

The dinner was sumptuous, and numerous flowers and candles rested on the dark mirrored table, the candlelight danced beautifully on the faces of wining and dining guests. You stole a glance at Oliver - God, how handsome he was in this evening tuxedo, did he know that? You had a growing desire to get alone with him, but you had absolutely no idea how you could do it unnoticeably, and generally... take the initiative. You wouldn’t go to his bathroom for the third time, would you?

The evening was followed by a karaoke night led by DJ Farleigh. Everyone was having fun, singing along and clapping each other, it didn't matter if someone sang noticeably badly or really very well. Although “uncle” Henry's performance to the song “Low" was already too much, especially at the moment when you almost got smashed by his thrown jacket.

"Good Lord, give me strength," you thought, and then changed your prayer, turning your head to the side at Henry's wife, who eventually got his jacket right in her face, "Although no, please better give this woman strength."

Felix had been gallantly pouring you wine half the evening, asking how your mood was, and made funny comments about the guests. Then Venetia came, you also had a drink with her and a lively talk, and then she and her brother went to stand in a corner while smoking cigarettes, hilariously dancing to karaoke songs. Elspeth walked and chatted charmingly with the guests, and James sometimes eagerly but out of pace clapped to the rhythm of modern dance floor hits with often dubious lyrics.

Oliver was sitting on the opposite couch almost all this time, drinking some kind of tropical long. You didn't talk to him much during karaoke, but the conversation with his eyes was more than enough. His expressive orbs alternated between looking at you and following your rolling gaze as you watched another Henry who was making another drunken joke. And then his eyes started to burn a hole in you more and more, but he still remained silent and did not approach. Okay. In a different state, you may had started overthinking it or getting upset again, but not now. Now you were drunk enough to perform some karaoke hit and tell him everything with it. Well, telling something, at least.

"Farleigh!" you shouted, pointing at him.

"Yes!" he poked his finger at you in response, holding the microphone.

"Toxic" by Britney Spears!" you said, calling out a few "o-o-o-ohs" from the audience.

"Great!" the DJ of the evening grinned, putting the right song and giving the microphone to you.

The familiar sounds of a sampled violin came in, and then your voice followed:

Baby, can't you see I'm calling?

A guy like you should wear a warning

It's dangerous, I'm falling

There's no escape, I can't wait

I need a hit, baby, give me it

You're dangerous, I'm loving it

You sang, turning to Oliver and looking into his eyes. He sucked his cocktail out of a straw and then put it on the floor without breaking eye contact with you.

Too high, can't come down

Losing my head, spinning 'round and 'round

Do you feel me now?

He was sitting on the couch in his smart black tux, leaning back slightly and spreading his legs wide. Oliver was listening to you so attentively, as if this was not a Britney song, but some kind of revelation addressed only for him to comprehend.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

And I love what you do

Don't you know that you're toxic?

He grinned at you. You started swinging your hips slightly while you were singing. Oliver licked his lips lightly.

It's getting late to give you up

I took a sip from my devil's cup

Slowly, it's taking over me

What a confession. Or was it a call?

You kept singing while everyone else supported you and sang along too. Farleigh danced to the beat of the music, and Felix and Venetia just had a separate party in the corner of the room, as if they were really at a Britney concert, and not karaoke party, where their friend finally decided to sing, being a little drunk. Elspeth and James, somehow in an old-fashioned, but a very sweet way danced sitting on the couch. All this support from the Cattons was especially pleasant and inspired me to sing the song even more boldly!

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now (I think I'm ready now)

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now

Yes, it was definitely a call. Oliver shifted on the couch, outwardly remaining calm, but deep inside he just had a storm of emotions and desires.

Artemis was luring her Actaeon again.

The living room burst with applause and cheering. It was not that you sang better than the original, but still, this song had already become an everyone’s favourite hit, which could not be disliked in any case. And you sang charismatically, not to mention your body movements. You scored 100 points! And to Oliver it was all 200.

You chatted for a while with Felix and Venetia and one of the Henrys, who jumped up to you, drank more wine after such brave karaoke performance, and then sneaked out of the room, realizing that you urgently need to use the restroom. Your head was a little dizzy, but you got to that very bathroom of yours which actually worked fine. Having done all the necessary things, you began to wash your face and stood for a long time at the sink with the faucet open, gradually coming to your senses. Ugh, you shouldn’t drink like that, otherwise it won't be clear if you can remember the rest of the evening. And you really wanted the most interesting things to be just ahead.

"Oliver!"

He was standing against the wall opposite the bathroom exit.

"How did you know that you... that I... that I would go here and not, say, to your bathroom again?"

"Very simply, Y/N. You're drunk right now, and thus, you will most likely reach the place that you are most familiar with. Like on an autopilot. I decided that you use your bathroom more often than mine."

You thought about it. Indeed, everything was so simple when he explained it. He must be much more sober.

It was a good thing you left before Farleigh decided to make Oliver sing karaoke. It was unexpected and humiliating, very humiliating, but he turned the situation in his favor by handing the microphone back to Farleigh at the most ambiguous moment of the song. Soon it would be Farleigh paying his own "Rent". Fortunately, no one read this subtext except the two of them. Oliver wasn't worried much about that right now, he had more important things to do tonight, so he went looking for you, fortunately, it wasn't difficult at all.

"So, you sing," he stated, pulling away from the wall and leisurely approached you.

"Not really, more like when I have a little drink, huh..."

"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?"

"Yes, much better, thank you," you said, still musing, "And also I sing when there is a good reason for it"

Oliver came close to you, and leaning into your ear, asked, "Am I a good enough reason?"

You looked into his eyes, "What do you think..." and reached out to kiss him. The taste of your wine mixed with the taste of his sweet strong cocktails. "It seems he drank more than I thought after all, how is he holding up so well?" you wondered, but soon you lost the thread of thought when his tongue, even more saturated with alcohol, penetrated your mouth.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

Those lines from the song started spinning in your head again while your tongues were spinning in their own dance. You started to lose the feeling of the ground under your feet, but Oliver held you tight. But you still got to lean more on his sturdy body under that beautiful black and white suit.

Then, barely interrupting your kisses, you moved into your bedroom. It was lit by the moonlight, just like Oliver's bedroom last night. He began to take off your dress, gently kissing your shoulder. Then, you helped him undo your bra and stepped out of the shoes. At this time, he was taking off his tux without taking his eyes off you. He looked at you ecstatically from head to toe.

"Beautiful, so beautiful. Did I tell you that already?"

You nodded, smiling.

"I'll say it again. You're so fuckin’ beautiful," Oliver said with his deep sexy accent.

At these words, you became completely aroused and let out an inaudible moan, as he threw you on the bed, just like yesterday. After kissing you on the lips, he immediately went down on you, caressing your most sensitive part with his tongue and squeezing your hips harder than before. You shifted on the bed, entangling with his soft dark locks, and began to moan softly.

Oliver himself was also damn attractive, to say the least. His strong, slender stripped body covered yours, and only the chain was dangling on his neck. For some reason, this detail turned you on especially hard. Finally, you saw him completely naked, not just a couple of times in the tall grass, but right in your bedroom, when he was pressing you to the bed, towering over you. What a view.

His tongue was flicking over your clit, Oliver was almost moaning into your cunt as he was eating you. You squeezed his head between your legs so hard, but he wouldn’t pull back. He was groaning and licking you relentlessly.

You were so close to orgasm, but he stopped and reached for your face, greedily kissing your lips with his shiny lips, this time for a long enough time so that you could taste your own arousal. It drove you crazy.

"Now you know just a little bit how delicious you are, Y/N," Oliver almost breathed those words right into your mouth.

He pulled himself up to you, and you felt his hard cock pressing against you. You put your hand on it, which made Oliver exhale sharply. Resting on his hands, he lifted up a little while you caressed it with your hand. He looked lasciviously at you, as your hand was moving up and down, stroking his dick. Then he hugged you and rolled over on the bed with you, and you were on top now. You sank lower, carefully wrapping your lips around his cock. He tilted his head back, mouth half open. The feel of your soft lips and warm tongue almost drove Oliver crazy. He put one hand in your hair, gently running it through.

"Yes, dear Y/N, that's it..."

"My sweet Y/N..."

Then you, without stopping your actions, looked him straight in the eyes. It was too much, and Oliver groaned and gently released you, turning you back down under him. His cock was harder than the steel of any sword that was in this manor.

"Do you know what is the best thing about a karaoke night, besides your amazing number?" asked Oliver and gave the answer himself, "It's that you can scream and moan all over the house, as loudly as you want. Or whatever I want it to be."

Those words flooded you with moisture, and at that moment Oliver entered you.

He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you. He exhaled, full of admiration and lust.

"Gods, Y/N, you’re so tight," he said breathlessly, kissing you. You started moaning into his mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips was leisurely at the start, gently rolling into yours, your eyes were connected to each other. His strong arms caged your twitching body under him. It all felt so good you were afraid that you might just woke up from some kind of dream or fantasy that you had, thinking of Oliver and falling asleep.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as he increased his pace. Soon, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless as his panting and your own moans. You wrapped your legs around his body, nails digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper into you.

“Fuck, girl, moan for me, yeah. Let the whole house know who is giving it to you, that pleasure,” Oliver’s hot whisper almost burned your skin.

You let out the loudest groan as he began slamming into you, driving to the edge of existence. The entire floor was really filled with your screams of pleasure, echoing in the dark. His hips slap against yours loudly, shaking the old bed. He clenched his teeth, watching the way your doe eyes look up at him, eyes were full of sensuality and desire. Oh, how beautiful and docile you were, he could not believe himself it was all happening at least.

You clenched around him and soon you arched your back, his name fell from your lips. He followed later soon, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he was doing last movements with his hips.

You went soft and limp under him as he panted with his hoarse voice in your ear. Oliver exhaled contentedly, triumphantly smirking.

You changed your position by lying down next to each other. For a while, you both just lay silently in bed, recovering your breath and feeling the spreading bliss to every cell of your bodies. Quick began to slowly and gently stroke and caress your body, leaving a weightless touch on your skin. He gently brushed two knuckles of his finger against your soft cheek.

"Oliver," you whispered into the darkness.

"Yes, Y/N?" he said, playing with your hair.

"Tell me, you've liked me since Oxford, haven't you? At first, I didn't even realise it, but in recent days I've been thinking so much about our acquaintance and how you looked at me then… So I thought it might be true..."

Oliver chuckled softly.

"Yes, my clever Y/N, you're absolutely right. I lost my head about you nearly as soon as I saw you. Seems you can't hide the truth from you."

You smiled, snuggling closer to him, "It's so good that you also got to Saltburn this summer," you mused, "Maybe, it is some kind of fate."

Oliver smiled at your words, gently tucking a lock behind your ear.

"Yes, I guess, it is."

The mixture of satisfaction, happiness and alcohol acted on you like a magic potion, and soon you peacefully fell asleep on his shoulder. Oliver was very glad that it was your room and you didn't have to be disturbed in any way. Saltburn had his own eyes and ears, it was not worth creating unnecessary rumors now. He wasn't in a position here to be able to afford it, at least, not now.

He kissed you gently on the temple and carefully left your bed, dressing up in his tuxedo and returning to the living room.

The fun continued. The hunt was a success.

[bbrissonn]

can you please write something for ryan leonard? could literally be about anything i just feel like that boy deserves more attention <3

i love ryry, he deserves more love. cute little freckle man

in which ryan's teammates cant leave the two of you alone in the library

under the cut !

"for fucks sake." ryan mumbled under his breath as he looked up from his book, only to be met with his friends sitting at the table of in front of yours.

"what's wrong, love?"

"they're here again. they're not even trying to be secretive anymore!" he scoffed as your eyes stayed glued to your work. you had a very important coming up, and you needed a good grade.

"just ignore them, babes. they're kids, let them be." you answered, leaning your head down on his shoulder as his eyes met with will's, who had wide smirk on his face.

"oh my god, what are you guys doing here?" gabe asked as they all got up and walked over to sit at your table. ryan let out a loud groan considering you were in a library as his friends made themselves comfortable.

"get out of here!" he spat at his teammates, making you chuckle a bit, but staying focused on your work.

"are we not allowed to study?" will asked, his smirk still present as ryan sent him a death glare.

"where're your books?"

"in my bag."

"take them out and study then. at another table." he said harshly, making all his friends laugh a bit.

"what if we want to sit at this table?" jacob asked, ryan rolling his eyes. your boyfriend looked over at you, begging you to tell the guys to leave, but you were too focused on your book to realize the look he was sending you.

"it's a library, be quiet." ryan warned the guys before looking back down at his work. your head was still leaning on his shoulder, making gabe snap a pic of the two of you. of course, the boy hadn't realized his flash was still on, making it blankly obvious what he was up to.

"get out!"

"what, why?"

"you're not here to study, you're here to bother us. so leave!"

"it was an accident!"

"can you guys go bicker somewhere else? i'm trying to study." you whispered harshly, making all the boys go quiet as they stared at you. you had finally looked up from your book, now sending ryan's friends a death glare that matched your boyfriend's. "all of you." you added, turning your head to look at ryan.

"me?" he gasped, his jaw dropping slightly.

"yes, you. you're the reason these ding dongs keep bothering me, so get out." you sassed, making ryan roll his eyes slightly before he started packing his bag.

"you guys are such assholes." your boyfriend mumbled as he got up from his seat, pressing a kiss to your forehead before making his way out. his friends followed closely, rambling about something that clearly wasn't making ryan happy.

lovey 🤍

give your side pieces some attention

i'll see you tonight loves <3

ryry 💗

i hate them, they're so mean

i miss you

come cuddle me

lovey 🤍

i'll be there in an hour max

love you

ryry 💗

love youuuu

[sixtsposts]

CW: female!reader

~•°•☆•°•~

You were very happy when Slughorn paired you with Remus Lupin for the potions class. You always thought he was nice and very interesting, so without surprise you two got along very well very quikly. You were both big readers and would often meet at the library to chat about lots of things. It was therefore natural for him to introduce you to his group of friend, the Marauders.

You weren't stressed to meet them, but you had to admit you weren't too excited either. You only saw them as pranksters with no respects for rules and others. That's why you were very surprise when you realize how sweet and fun they were to be around in reality the first time to met them at the Three Broomsticks.

Sirius was, at your opinion, the funniest. He just seemed so chill around his friends and he was very welcomming to you, despite the clear contrast between you and him. Though he was a real tease all the time, especially with Remus you had notice...

Peter was completly different from the others. The boy was so sweet with everyone, you loved playing chess with him. He reminded you of a little bunny, always a bit nervous and jumpy around every person that are not his three best friends.

And finally James, he was a cliché for real. The guy was Quidditch captain, built like a rock, with messy hair and cocky smirks. He was all you should have despise, but you just couldn't. He was just so kind and safe to be around, somehow. He wasn't at all like he seemed, he had an ego as big as the Dark Lack but a heart to match it. To be honest the boy was very intrigued by you.

You looked like a little nerd, a cute bookworm who avoided people and spend her time in the library. And that was kind of true. But at the same time you were also feisty like a lion and as cocky as him. That's the thing that caught James eyes the first time you met him.

- And that's how we won. It was a crazy match, you should have seen it. James explained their last Quidditch match with energy to you and Remus.

- Yeah, it was all strategy. It's thanks to Prongs that we won, he's the one who got the idea to fake a fall from the broom to caught their attentions. Sirius said as he pass an arm around his friend's shoulders.

- Really? Crazy, I thought you athletes didn't have anything in your heads. You giggle with a mischievous grin. James raises his eyebrows as a playful smile grow on his lips.

- Oh is that so? 'Cause you know everything about life with your nose buried in your books all day, huh? He spoke back but not in a mean way.

- Well at least I know other things than how to fly on a broomsticks. You said with a cocky smirk as you lean toward him. He was sat across you at the table.

- At least I know how to get on a broomstick. He lean toward you aswell, putting his elbows on the wood table.

- At least I knod how to read. You defy with a wide grin.

- Ah got me there nerdy. He chuckle and pass his hand in his messy brown hair. You giggle, kind of enjoying this nickname for the first time.

Surprisingly you and him became kind of friends quite quikly and that was thanks to James really. After only your first meeting with the boys, the Potter would come talk to you in the common room like you knew him for years.

- Hey nerdy, how you doin' here? You hear a deep voice behind you and turn to meet James brown eyes behind his round glasses. He's standing behind the couch you were sat on, his elbows resting on the back of it.

- Hum fine. You're not with the guys? You ask him, a bit puzzled that he's talking to you so casually.

- Nah, they're all outside. He shrugs his shoulders with a side smile.

You narrow your eyes at the Quidditch player, wondering if a prank is being pulled on you or if he needs to ask you something about homeworks. But he just came to sit down next to you and ask you questions about the book in your hands.

- Oh so the cakes can make her grow big or small, s'that right?

- Yes, exactly! You say a little too eagerly. That makes James smile grow bigger as he looks into your eyes.

- This 'Wonderland' sounds very strange. He giggled, resting his chin into the palm of his hand.

- It is, but the book is very good. I think it's actually one of my favorite muggle story. You say with passion in your eyes, you just love talking about your interests. And James begin to think that he could listen to you talking about this Alice and hee White Rabbit all day long.

- You read lots of muggle books, don't you?

- Yeah, since my parents are muggles they showed me all the muggle's classics but nobody ever showed me the wizard's classics. You chuckle as James' smile grew even wider at your words.

- Maybe I could! If you want I mean, we could go to Hogsmeade and I'll show you a cute magic library. He says as he sit up, his eyes almost sparkling.

- I mean I'd love that, thank you. You smile softly to him, a happy smile on your lips.

- No problem nerdy. I love feeding your knowledge.

So you went to Hogsmeade together the next week-end, just the two of you. It was already january and the wizard village was covered by a thin thickness of snow. With your woolen hat on youe head, you were walking next to the tall frame of the Quidditch player. You were laughing warmly at his playful banter about you having your nose red from the cold. You two enter then the cute library he had told you about. It was called 'Birdy&co'. As soon as your foot brush the floor your eyes light up.

- By Merlin, James this is amazing.

It was. The place was even bigger on the inside, everything was in old and dark wood with blue carpet everywhere.

- The owner is an old Ravenclaw student.

James whisper in your ear with a smile as he sees you look all around you.

- Yeah, I bet he's still very supportive of his house. You giggle and walk further into the library.

James let you look at all the books you want. You're amazed by the covers that move alone like on the newspaper. You're like a child at Christmas, going from a book to the other with heart eyes.

- Oh look this one James, it's talking! You claim happily as you grab his large hand in yours and pull him with you. The boy is a bit surprise but chukle and don't say anything, let his hand where it is in your hold.

- Oh Merlin, this one looks so cool... You mumble in owe.

- It is, I've read it several times. James informs you with a tender smile. You raise your eyebrows.

- You read it? Many times? You ask dumbfounded. The book was big, like really big.

- Yeah brainless athletes also read, nerdy. He replies you playfully. You giggle and shake your head amused.

- You know I don't actually think you're dumb. You admit softly with the sweetest and more genuine smile he ever seen in seventeen years.

- I know don't worry. He smiles back as he takes a step toward you. And you know... I could teach you how to play Quidditch. He says with a little smirk.

- Oh god no, never.

- Ah you'll see, one day I will put you on one of those broomstick, nerdy. He chuckles.

Everyone in the school that knew you a bit was surprise to see a nerd like you becomming close to James Potter. Of course James didn't care at all. On the opposite he thought you were pretty cool. Maybe even more than just cool.

- What a shame. You hear a low voice behind you as you walk next to James in Hogsmeade. You turn to meet a tall and thin frame with a green tie.

- What did you say Snape? You ask a bit more harshly than you should have. James turn aswell, stop in his track.

- I just think it's a shame you waste your smart mind with those...

- Oh you better not finish this sentence. You warn the Slytherin boy with a deep frown.

- You heard the girl Snevillus. James say and you can hear the smirk in his voice. You feel his arm snaking around your shoulders in a supportive gesture.

Snape click his tongue and narrow his eyes at the two of you before walking away, his eyes throwing thunder. As soon as he leaves James turn to you with a big smile.

- You're incredible!

You giggle at the praise. James squeeze your shoulders and pull you with him as he walks down, keeping you close.

- Let's get you an ice cream as a reward, yeah?

- Can we go to the library after?

- Sure nerdy. James chuckle and ruffle your hair playfully.

As the weeks passed James grew very fond of you, you almost spend more time with him than with Remus. You two would go to 'Birdy&co' almost every week. He will walk you to class, holding your book and staying with you in Hogwarts' library until late at night. You would even help him study for his exams and come to his Quidditch match.

One night as you were asleep in your bed, James was staying with Remus in the Griffindor common room.

- Moony? James repeated for the fourth time.

The werewolf sigh throught the nose as he put his book the coffee table in front of the fireplace of the common room.

- Yes, James?

- Can I ask you a completly selfless question my baby bestie Moony? The boy asked with puppy eyes as he sits up on the loveseat.

- Go ahead. M'not assuring you'll have an answer though.

- Do you know if, maybe, by pure coincidence, Y/N might have hum, how do you call that again? Oh yeah... a crush on a boy?

- What?

- Maybe a girl then?

The glasses boy asks, his cheeks a bit rosy. He was looking all around the room, his legs moving fast.

- Prongs are you nervous? Remus frown confused. He had never seen his friend like that.

- What? No, m'not nervous. He scratch the back oh his neck. Just answer, please. James said his last words with a desesperate expression as he lean forward in the loveseat, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands fidgeting. Remus narrow his eyes at the boy before biting his lips to hold a grin.

- James Fleamont Potter.

James made a little strangle noise, avoiding his friend gaze almost comically.

- Do you have a crush on our friend? Remus ask with a smirk.

- Gosh you made it sound like a kill someone... James mumble with a fake annoyed tone. It's not as if I had fucked Sirius' little brother.

Remus let out a rather loud and mocking chuckle. He pass a hand on his scared face.

- Oh my poor friend, you don't know what you've got yourself into with her.

The werewolf says dramatically as he gets up from the red armchair and pass throught his friend who's sat dumbfounded. His put a hand his shoulder, looking down at hims a half amused and half sympathic smile.

- Good luck Prongs. And... yes she might have a crush on someone.

Remus winks and smirk before making his way to the shared dorm, James' eyes light up with joy.

The very next day you had to meet James at Hogsmeade like usual. You found him nervously pacing in front of the Three Broomsticks.

- Hey Jamie, everything's fine?

Apprently he hadn't seen you since he jumps at the sound of your voice. It makes you both giggle and frown, slightly worried.

- Y/N, hey. Yeah everything's okay.

- You sure? You're acting strangely.

You tell him as he leads you to the 'Birdy&co' library where you always go.

- Yeah yeah, just hum... stress for tomorrow's match is all.

- Oh you shouldn't Jamie, everyone knows you'll do your best.

You bump your elbow with his in a reassuring gesture as you give him a soft smile. He glances at you and quickly look away, scratching the back of his head.

- Yeah you're probably right.

- M'always right. You giggle with a little smirk as James hold the library's door for you. You thank him and step in what had become one of your favorite place.

The glasses boy chuckle and shake his head as he follows you closely. You're looking all around you, searching for interesting new book to read.

- What are you looking for today? James ask, burrying his hands deep into his pockets.

- I don't know yet, maybe something different for once.

- What about romance?

You hear his voice closer than earlier, the heat of his body hitting your back. You can feel your heartbeat suddenly raising a bit.

- W- why not. You stutter and intenally slap yourself.

- Yeah? You have someone in mind those days nerdy? He asks as he steps to your side, his brown eyes looking into yours intensely.

- Hum yes, no, why are you asking? You walk pass him, feeling your cheeks warming.

- Oh nothing, just wondering. You never talk a lot about your feelings.

- I talk about my feelings. You reply back with a little frown.

- Really? Talk then. James smirk playfully. You look away, chewing on your lips.

- I'll go first then, you're important for me darling. I like you. A lot. James raise his eyebrows as he take a step toward you. You stare at his eyes, your face red.

- I- I like you too. You're a very good friend. You mumble embarrassed.

- Friend huh?

You nod and look away, acting like you were studying the books on the shelf beside you.

- What if I say I like you?

- You already said that.

- What if I say I love you then.

You stop in your track, your heart pumping into your ear loudly.

- Are you saying it or do you think it? You ask, your voice suddenly weaker as you stay with your back turn to him.

- Believe me darling, I think it all...

James is closer, his breath brushing your cheek from behind. You try to compose yourself but your mind is racing infernally.

- If this is a prank, it's the least funny you've ever done. You whisper softly.

- I'd never do that to you darling.

You turn toward him, gasping silently when you realize how close he is from you. His tall frame is towering you as his eyes look into yours so deeply, you'd think he's analysing your soul. Eventually, being so speechless you just gently grab the collar of his jumper and pull him to you. Your lips collapse softly in an bashful and wondering kiss.

- I love you too Jamie. You mumble against his lips and James pull you into another kiss. He places his hands on your cheeks, deepening the kiss.