#night slipping is like time slipping but night lol

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

[theold-ultraviolence]

Blanket hoarder

summary: Reader's annoyed musings over Eddie hoarding the blankets when they sleep together. cw: established relationship, gender neutral reader, shenanigans of living together, pure fluff with a light side of angst because reader gets annoyed at Eddie. words: 1.6K (this was supposed to be a blurb lol)

A sneaky slip of fabric. 

Your teeth start to clatter. Consciousness returns as your body starts shivering, groaning against the pillow. 

Not again! 

“Stop hoarding the goddamn blankets!” you growl as you yank back the blanket back to your body, not even caring if you wake Eddie.

You roll back to your side angrily – cursing as the alarm starts ringing just when you have gotten warm again, not even a second after – Jesus christ! 

Now you have to drag your legs out one by one into the freezing bathroom, loathing to get ready for the long workday ahead when there’s that lingering chill in your body from the lack of proper cover in your sleep. 

You bitterly glare at Eddie’s body from the reflection in the mirror as you brush your teeth, looking like a snuggle bug all warm and cozy – lowkey envious he gets to sleep in just for a little longer before having to leave for work. 

You finish cleaning yourself up and come to watch him from the door, his snug form dimly lit by the faint glow emanating from the bathroom. You can’t help but chuckle internally. 

Fucking Eddie. 

You used to sleep so peacefully with him in the beginning. He would envelop you in his arms, with your nose pressed up into his neck, arms clinging to him as if you would float away like a balloon in the night sky of your dreams if you didn’t. Or he’d spoon you from behind, and the soft puffs of his breath against your skin would calm you, like the constant flame of a campfire right at home inside your heart. 

Even when he sprawled on the bed like a starfish, you’d hook your leg around his hip, with your nose all nestled in the fuzzy heat from his armpit, regardless of the smell. It smelt like the finest cashmere to you anyway. That was just love. 

When you finally moved in together, that remained for the first weeks until, little by little, change came as it naturally does when certain things become a habit.

That’s when you discovered that Eddie was the absolute worst blanket hoarder.

Instead of sleeping entangled through the night, your bodies would drift on their own accord to your respective corners of the bed, curling back to back –  with just your butts touching, Eddie’s light snores echoing away from you, and your drool pooling on your pillow for once instead of his t-shirt. 

But then, like clockwork, you’d wake around three AM, wondering why the hell you were shivering when you slept with four blankets atop you. You’d turn, and through the heavy curtains of your sleepy eyes, you’d see your boyfriend all bundled up like a burrito, with his curls barely distinguishable underneath all that fluff. 

You’d snuggle up to his back, moaning as you slid inside the blankets and spooned him, quickly falling asleep again to the soothing rise and fall of his breathing as you pressed your cheek between his shoulder blades. 

It didn’t bother you that much, how could it? When Eddie’s mind – that raced with worries and wonder alike – could finally be at peace when he curled up like that? In the bed that belonged to the both of you no less. Not his own over at Wayne’s, or the one at your parent’s house, but yours. Where your scent and his own had already fused into one heavenly aroma, where the cheap mattress had already begun to dip with the shape of your bodies. You couldn’t even be mad when he stole the blankets during the winter, giving you endless runny noses the following days. 

Not even when you’d find him sleeping on his stomach, waking at the exact second of him kicking back the blankets to the edge of the bed with his foot. You’d grumble but pull back the covers every single time, tucking him in again – sometimes giving him a little just because you could. Just to feel the silky warmness of his cheek, alive and safe with you. 

But…there were nights when you just couldn’t have it. After long, stressful days at work that had your head feeling like the pressurized cabin of an airplane, feeling the knots in your neck as hard as concrete, you would just long to sleep through the night before enduring it all over again the next day.

One night, the blanket hoarding happened three times. 

Three. Fucking. Times. Waking up freezing because Eddie kept pulling the blanket to his side. 

“Fuck’s sake, Eddie!” You had groaned, making sure he heard as you yanked them back to you.

Your heart balled up into a fist when you felt him sit up in bed and put a tentative hand on your back but you flinched and scoffed with annoyance.

He slept facing away from you then, not even touching his butt to yours. You had felt like the worst person alive, but you’d just been at your limit and snapped. So guilty for being harsh that you hadn’t even been able to fall back asleep in the end. The morning after had been a little awkward, with the two of you walking on eggshells as Eddie cooked breakfast – his own little way of apologizing. 

He needn’t at all. Hoarding blankets in his sleep wasn’t something he could control, you knew that. He was only human. Flawed and filled with quirks that made him who he was. You loved him for it, loved him with everything you had – despite him annoying you sometimes, despite your silly pet peeves.

But that was the thing. Love was about learning to live with Eddie and the package he came with – appreciating his humanity, in all its flawed perfection. Eddie never complains when you hoard the hot water in the shower or get a little grumpy when things don’t go your way on the first try. Not when you scrunch your nose if he cooks a meal using a certain ingredient you don’t like that he's pushing you to try, not when you occupy more space in your shared closet.

You’re human too. 

That’s why you can’t help but break sometimes without meaning to. And last night had been one of those times. The blanket hoarding just got to you again because you hadn’t slept a wink the previous night, longing to make up for it as soon as you got home, but no. 

Now, as you watch him from the bathroom door, you feel your heart slumping within your chest once again, just as he stits up. The dim light casts long shadows beneath his eyelashes that make his gaze appear sadder. 

“Hey…” he mumbles, voice still deep and groggy with sleep as he weakly pats the mattress. “Babe, I’m so sorry…I don’t even realize –” 

“ – No, no, I know, baby, I know.” You rub your hands on your face trying not to cry with frustration – not with Eddie but with yourself.  “I was just exhausted. I’m sorry.” 

“I know. C’mere…”  He pats the mattress again, with a tender smile as he pulls back the blankets and lays on his back with his arms outstretched to you. He pulls you in like a magnet, without any protest as you fall into his arms and he envelops you whole. 

Sighing contently, the stress leaves your body so fast that you wonder what kind of magic lies in Eddie's arms. His presence surrounding you makes you forget why you were even stressed in the first place. His chest is so cozy. His heartbeat underneath your ear is a gentle reminder of that imperfect humanity, as the beats switch from rapid to a steady lull once he’s certain you’re not mad anymore. You kiss that heartbeat, lingering for a moment to inhale that sleepy musk of his that’s become the scent of home. 

“I’m gonna be late for work…” you mumble against him after what seems like hours, feeling your heavy-lidded eyes aching to close.

“Call in sick…” his voice is soft and muffled against the crown of your head while he caresses the nape of your neck. 

“Can’t. Already did last week, remember?” 

He grumbles, but you can feel that teasing smile of his curling against your forehead, just as he pulls up the covers further up your shoulders, luring you away from the call of another stressful workday, and into the indulgent leisure that lies with him.

“Then call and tell them you had a flat tire or some shit. Come on…sleep in just a little bit. Or, tell ‘em I’m sick and you have to take care of me – I’ll take the blame for ya. Only fair.”  

You raise your head to look at him, caressing his cheek with the back of your knuckles as you shake your head fondly.

Fucking Eddie. 

How can you resist him, when his dimples look even cuter when there’s mischief hiding behind them? Just one look at those big doe eyes and you don’t need any more persuading. He'd get you to pull down the moon by a mere flutter of his perfect eyelashes.

Your head falls back into his chest and he tightens his embrace around you. “Come on, sweetheart… I’ll hold you the entire time.” 

You don’t even register what he says for your drowsy eyes are already falling shut, blanketed by the soft caress of Eddie's plush lips against your eyelids. Faintly you can hear Eddie’s light snores, and feel a little puddle of drool forming on his t-shirt where you rest your face as your breathing deepens.  

Maybe this is why he hoards all the blankets, you muse unconsciously as you drift to sleep. He steals all their warmth for moments like this when it's his arms that wrap you up and keep you safe.

tag list: @arcielee

[heart4gyu]

wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader

note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!!

this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.

he just couldn’t help it though.

you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.

how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.

after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.

you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.

jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.

the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.

all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.

and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.

you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.

jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.

you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…

jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.

it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…

so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.

and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.

he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).

you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.

“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”

he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.

giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.

he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.

“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.

“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.

there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.

you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.

so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.

he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.

he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.

“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.

“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.

and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.

[surielstea]

Sunshine in the Shade

Based on this request

Pairing: Azriel x DayCourt! Reader

Summary: Reader can't stay in the night court for long when she's bound to day. Azriel and her have to share a goodbye.

Warnings: minimal angst but mostly fluff

A/N: sorry this took me so long to get out, I was struggling figuring out the concept of the original req, I'm still not very happy with it but I hope you guys enjoy nonetheless :) p.s I had to repost cuz my tags weren’t working, sorry if you were notified twice lol.

2.9k words

"That's a lie!" I throw a piece of popcorn at a giggling Morrigan. "Nuh-uh," She shakes her head with a big grin. "I'm The Morrigan I only speak the truth," She shrugs and I roll my eyes, clutching my bowl of popcorn to my chest as she claims 'I'm the prettiest girl she's ever seen'.

"Shut up," I scoff as she wraps her arms around my shoulders and hugs me close. "I mean it," She croons. "Azriel's a lucky male, don't you think Fey?" Her arms slip from around me as she turns to look at the High Lady. "She gets it from her Father," Feyre intoned with a mouthful of chocolate cake and I rolled my eyes at the mention of the High Lord of the Day Court.

It was late in the afternoon, so late that it'd be night soon. I shake my head, trying not to think about when the moon meets the stars. I stifle a sigh and lean on the railing of the roof atop one of Rhysand's many estates, staring out at the three males who were flying around each other like boys again.

When I was seven, my father was an apprentice for spell cleaving. He had been practicing warding spells when I had come into the room with a bright grin on my face excited to show him my new drawing. In a moment of distraction, his spell had shot straight into my heart, the effects irreversible. We hadn't found out the full extent of the spell until we had been traveling to different courts for meetings and as soon as the sun slipped from the sky and night began to rule, my heart stopped beating and I was hospitalized for weeks.

So I was only allowed to leave during the day, as long as I came back right before sunrise. A rule that made it impossibly challenging to see my mate, who happened to be darkness incarnate.

I take a sip of my wine as I watch Azriel soar with his brothers, a rare smile on his face that makes adoration bloom in my chest. "That boy loves you," Amren hums from beside me and I roll my eyes, tearing them away from my mate to look over at her. "No shit," I scoff and a snarky smile curves her lips. "No, he loves you," She murmurs, eyes on the three boys as they laugh amongst each other. "I've never seen him so happy in all the years I've been around him, don't ruin that," She looks at me and it's as if she can see straight through me to my bare soul, past the flesh and bone and to my inner core that held the truest version of me. "What do you—" I begin but I'm cut off by a gust of wind as a figure lands on the railing that I leaned on. "Fly with me," A familiar voice says as Azriel bends down and cups my face in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. "You won't pretend to drop me like last time?" I narrow my eyes on him, forgetting about Amrens words now that he was here, cradling my face. "Nope," He bites at his bottom lip like he always does when he lies to me. "I know you're lying," I sing and he grumbles a curse, leaning in and pressing a kiss to my lips. "Ok, promise I won't." He smushes my cheeks together. I can't help but put every ounce of my trust in him and believe what he says. I nod and he doesn't need any further consent than that.

He swoops me up into his arms and with a few beats of his wings, we were soaring up into the blue sky. I tighten my hold around him with a small squeal. I had a horrible fear of heights, it was foolish to be terrified of a few hundred feet in the air when literal monsters were walking amongst Prythian but it's something that's always affected me. With Azriel, though it was different, he loved flying so much, and that smile on his face beat any fear I had.

"I won't drop you," He promised. "I know, but," I look down, dread filling my stomach at the long drop. We were higher than mountain peaks. He pulls me closer to him. "Hey, look at me," He said and I obeyed, eyes pinned to his. "Don't look down, keep your eyes on me," He hummed and I nodded. "Feels nice, doesn't it?" He tilts his head I swallow thickly, still thinking about the ground that was so very far away.

"Hey, look at me," He repeats with more stress on his words and so I do, I look into his eyes, at the smile on his lips, the dimples on his cheeks. I feel the summer breeze on my skin and hear the laughter of my friends still on the rooftop. "I love you," I confess, hands loosening around his neck and running them through his hair. He smiled, beaming at the words. "I love you more," He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I grin, then giggle as he dips down onto my neck, his nose tickling it. Cassian soars by with a large smile on his face. "No kissing and flying!" The Illyrian shouted over his wingbeats and Azriel's lips halted on my neck while I threw my head back in laughter, remembering the last time Azriel got too lost in kissing me and stopped flying momentarily, putting all of his attention to my lips instead. We dove for only a second before he regained consciousness. But ever since then, Azriel wasn't allowed to put his lips anywhere near mine while flying.

My head lifted back up and I looked at him with a loving smile, fingers coiled in his hair as he stared at me like I hung every star in the sky.

My breath hitched as the sun began to melt into the horizon. My smile faltered and morphed into a frown. "You've gotta go?" He asks and I nod with a pout, looking at him with saddened eyes. "The daughter of the sun can't stay in the night court for long," He murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple as he navigates us back to the rooftop, leaving Rhys and Cass.

"I'm sorry Az, I want to stay," I say. "I know, it's okay my love," He places my feet down onto solid land and even if I am afraid of heights, I'd much rather be up in the air instead of down here, signaling my exit.

"It's only for the night," He shrugs, settling down onto the railing of the rooftop though despite his reassuring words, something in his gaze told me he wouldn't be sleeping until he saw me again. "Oh, Az," I crash into him with enough force to knock us both over the railing but he doesn't falter, only embraces me back as I hug him tightly. "Why don't you come with me?" I ask and he tilts his head down at me with a frown. "You know your father will kill me," He shakes his head. "I don't care, I'm nearly four hundred years old, I can do what I want," I say. "And I want you," I cup his cheeks, analyzing his features as if I'll forget them. "Except you can't," He murmurs with a sad smile on his face, his thumb pulling slightly at my lower lip.

My shoulders slump and I wrap my arms around him yet again, nuzzling my nose into his shoulder. "Fly me back?" I asked softly into his neck. My fear of flying was outmatched by another moment with him.

"I was planning on it," He pressed kisses atop the crown of my head but neither of us backed up, just staying in that warm, comforting position until the sun got too low in the sky and I knew it was time to go.

"Bye, guys! See you in a month!" I wave to the others with a fake grin across my features. They all bid their farewells with pitying smiles on their faces. "I'll miss you," Mor tangles her arms around me, tearing me from a disgruntled Azriel. "Not as much as I'll miss you," I sing, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Well now I’m sun-kissed," She holds a hand to where my lips were and I giggle, pulling away and going back into Azriel's arms who was grumbling something about the joke being dumb, but I knew he was just jealous.

"Alright, alright, let's go," Azriel swoops me off my feet and carried me bridal style before Mor could get another word in— then took off to the skies, the cool wind nipping at my cheeks as we rose above the mountain peeks and begin navigating south, in the direction my mate's flown me countless times. "Bye Rhys!" I wave to the High Lord as we pass him. "Awe is it that time already!" Cassian whined, soaring to his brother's side with an apparent frown on his face. "I'll be back don't worry," I grin over at him. "I have no doubt you will," He sighs then turns back without another word and joins a waving Rhys.

About twenty minutes of flying later I knew the sun was too low in the sky to be excusable any longer.

"Az I gotta winnow," I say tiredly, hand cradling the side of his neck. "You have to be tired, plus you still have to fly back," I explain and he shakes his head. "I could fly you around for days." He reassured and I frowned up at him. "You know I have to leave," I huff. "I know," He nods. I lean upward and press a gentle, yearning kiss to his lips.

"No kissing and flying, remember?" He mumbles onto my lips. I smile at the recollection, pressing my mouth harder to his. "I'll see you soon, okay?" I whisper and he nods with creased brows and an aching heart.

His scarred fingers dig into my thigh, searing his touch into me in case I ever forgot it. "Don't miss me too much, yeah?" I ask and he smiles weakly before uttering, "I'll try."

"I'll see you tomorrow," I sigh. "I'll be there to pick you up," He reassured and my grin faltered, then as a silent goodbye, I pressed my lips to his, holding his face with enough delicacy you'd think he was made of glass. His lips press harder onto mine. It wasn't lustful or hungry, but it was passionate and full of pining. "Love you, Az," I whisper into his mouth, and before he can reply I winnow away, leaving his arms empty with only the weight of my absence, the bond between us wearing thin as I return back to my native court, a place that no longer felt like home when every element I had of a real home was in Night.

I had winnowed right into the dining room of the Day Palace, my plate already on my spot at the table. "You're late," My father grumbled, I tossed him a glance. He sat at the head of the table, a girl half-dressed in his lap. "Gods, seriously Dad?" I shield my eyes as I grab my plate, deciding not to eat in front of something that would easily make me lose my appetite. "In my defense, I didn't think you were coming home," He shrugs sassily and I roll my eyes at his behavior. "Yeah whatever, goodnight," I mutter, getting to the large doors leading to the hall. "Will I see you tomorrow?" He asks before I can slip out. "Probably not, Az is coming to get me in the morning," I mutter and he utters a curse. "I never see you anymore," He whines childishly, making a small smile spread across my lips. "I'm sorry but my days are promised to him," I open the door wider. "Unless you're willing to let him join us for dinner sometime?" I offer and he scoffs. "I'm not feeding someone who stole my baby girl," He grumbled. "That's what I thought," I nod. "Night, Dad!" I call before slipping out the door, closing it behind me with a soft click.

I travel down the halls of the palace made of sunstone and opalescent glass, taking bites of my food occasionally but I wasn't all that hungry since I ate with Rhysand's inner circle less than an hour ago. I breathe a deep sigh as I finally arrive at my room, entering then kicking the door shut as I make my way over to my desk, setting my plate and fork down before going over to my armoire and pulling myself out of the lightweight dress I wore, slipping into a nightgown instead as I prepared myself for bed, light still in the sky.

My sleep schedule had been all sorts of messed up, I had the sleeping habits of a five-year-old. Waking up at dawn and going to bed at dusk. It was unfair of me to have Azriel spend every waking hour with me during the day but it was the only time I got to see him, I couldn't spend nights with him, and couldn't sleep in the same bed.

I huff as I slide onto my mattress, pulling the covers up to my chin as my black-out curtains do the best they can to block out any remaining sunlight.

I rubbed my eyes tiredly and attempted sleep for at least an hour before I was finally able to drift off into a light slumber, knowing the sooner I fell asleep, the sooner I'd see my mate again.

——

I wake up to a light sound of thudding outside my window, then a drumming on the glass like someone was tapping against it. But I was on the highest point in the palace, the most protected and secured part of the entire court.

I sit up slightly panicked, but the tapping stops and I suppose it's my imagination, running my hands through my hair and blaming it on being overtired. But as soon as my head hits my pillow once more the sound returns. I spring up and crawl over to my bedside window, pulling up the blackout curtains with a confused expression.

My brows shoot to my hairline as I spot a familiar winged figure on the other side of the glass. I immediately open the window, pushing it to its highest point. "What are you doing here?" I question. "I missed you," Azriel shrugs and I facepalm. "Now scoot over, my wings won't fit with you right there," He gestures to me towards the end of the bed. "Are you insane? You're not coming in," I whisper shout and he frowns. "Why not?" He murmurs sadly. "My dad will kill you if he sees you," I grit out and he shrugs. Gods, I felt like a teenager sneaking my boyfriend in.

"C'mon sunshine," He sighs, his wings slowly flapping as to keep quiet. "We'll be gone by dawn," He reasons and I stifle a curse before moving out of the way and allowing room for him to enter. Shadows protect his wings as he pushes himself through the large window that he made look small.

As soon as he through I tackle him into a hug, pressing kisses along the side of his face. He chuckles, hand coming to the back of my neck. "Thought you didn't want me in here?" He taunts and I move away, looking down at him with a wide grin. "That was before," I shake my head, leaning down and wrapping my arms around his neck, lying atop him as if I couldn't get close enough to him. "Before what?" He scoffs. "Before you were in my bed," I reason. "But now you are and I don't ever want you leaving," I say into his shoulder and he grins brightly. "Have you slept?" I ask, twining my fingers into his hair. I feel him shake his head no and I internally sigh at his insomniac habits. "Alright, c'mon," I pull him up by the collar of his shirt, towards the pillows of my bed. He follows with a content smile, flopping down onto my mattress as I slip in beside him, pulling the blankets over us as I cuddle into his side, head on his chest, arm slung over his torso while he tucks me in close between him and his wing.

"How'd you get past the guards?" I perk up, looking at him puzzled. "I'm the spymaster, aren't I?" He smiles tiredly and I return it. "Not even the pegasuses noticed?" I say with a frown. "How are you so awake?" He asks, his hand coming to my cheek and I shrug. "I'm happy you're here," I explain and his grin widens, his scarred thumb pulling at my lower lip. "Go to sleep, I'll still be here in the morning," He reassured and I believed him.

I hadn't realized just how much I wanted this until I had it. His arms around me, shadows settling over us. We've cuddled before, on couches or daybeds, but nothing like this, not with the intention of sleeping. There was something so intimate about it, how he trusted me enough to fully fall out of consciousness with his arms wrapped around me.

I smile, a warm fuzzy feeling blooming in my chest. I lean up and peck beneath his jaw. "Goodnight, Az," I murmur. "Night sunshine," He softly replies and that was all I needed to hear before I faded into that familiar embrace of sleep.

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[vanwritesfan-fiction]

I Belong to You

Warnings: fluff, a bit of language, barely suggestive

I belong to you, you

Don't come my way

If you ain't here for love, don't you dare stay

A/N: Incredibly loosely based on a song, it just gave me the idea lol

Before he met you, the first thing Jack did when he woke up was check his phone. He knew that after a couple hours of sleep there were text messages and emails waiting for his response, so rather than delay the inevitable, he got the day started.

Now, the first thing he does when he wakes up is look over at you. For just a moment, he feels like he's still dreaming, gently running his calloused fingers across the delicate skin of your thigh, watching your chest slowly rise and fall with each breath, your eyelashes fluttering as you sleep. You reach over for him, a reflex, your hand landing on his bare chest, and it takes everything in him to turn off his phone for the day and stay in bed with you.

He isn't sure how he got so lucky, to wake up next to you every morning, and honestly, he isn't interested in pushing his luck by trying to find out.

He'd stay here forever with you if he didn't have a career he deeply cared about, or a dog that needed to go potty first thing in the morning. ****

The sun is just starting to rise as he decides to finally start his day. If he’s lucky, he can get some work done before you wake up and the two of you can spend an uninterrupted day together. You barely stir as he carefully lifts himself off the bed, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. He slips an old hoodie over his head and grabs his journal from the nightstand drawer. He gets one more look at you before he leaves the room, a smile forming on his face as he takes in how peaceful you look, the leather-bound book underneath his arm, and Lou-Lou eagerly running at his heels.

Your eyelids flutter open as the morning sun streaming through the window warms your face. You turn over expecting to have a sleeping puppy and boyfriend to your right, but to your surprise, the bed is empty. You take your time getting up, lingering against the warm sheets before finally getting up, grabbing one of Jack’s flannels from the closet to cover up your naked form, and heading out to the living room.

At first the house is peacefully quiet, a perk of having elderly neighbors and living in the penthouse, but its not long until you hear a voice, sweetly struggling to get through lyrics of a song under his breath.

“I’m working late, ‘cause I’m a singer Oh, he looks so cute wrapped 'round my finger"

You find Jack in his office, hovering over his desk as he repeats the only words of the song that managed to get stuck in his head after you forced him to listen to it so many times. You were able to sneak in without him noticing, and you stifle a laugh as you lean against the threshold, watching your boyfriend bop his head to no music. His gruff morning voice hits the high notes surprisingly well, and even you could admit you were impressed. Jack was a musical prowess, but there was a reason he went into rap music.

"Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso"

You were so sure you were going to get a full performance of the song, but Lou-Lou broke your cover, barking when she saw you standing in the door, scrambling over to you so you could pick her up. Jack’s eyes went wide as he turned around and saw who was behind him, his face growing beet red as you received kisses from the puppy.

“How much of that did you hear?”, he asked, scratching at the back of his neck nervously.

“Baby, you’ve been singing the song all week.” You gently place Lou-Lou on the ground, and she sprints off to her toy. “I’m just surprised you know more than one lyric.”

Jack chuckles, giving you a weak smirk. You give him a soft smile, and he immediately forgets why he was even embarrassed in front of you in the first place. As soon as you’re close enough, he pulls you into his lap wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his head on your chest. You both sit in silence for a moment as Jack pulls you closer, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his curls.

“What are you working on?”, you ask as you look over a Jack’s workspace, his journal open, random notes jotted down on the pages. He quickly closes it just as you make out the first couple of words, shifting you around on his lap so you don’t have a good view of the notebook anymore.

I Belong To You

You were surprised by his actions, so quick to hide what he was working on, but you brush it off, thinking its something for work. He doesn’t let people into his writing process until he’s ready and you don’t want to push him to do something he’s uncomfortable with. Still, you can’t help but wonder what those words meant.

“I was thinking I’d grab us some breakfast and then we can just watch movies today?” You looked down at Jack’s crystal blue eyes, his smile making you weak in the knees.

“Sounds amazing. I’m gonna take a shower while you’re gone.” Jack gave you a quick kiss on the lips and a swift pat on the butt as you made your way out of the room. You got one more look at his journal before you headed to the bathroom.

What could he possibly be hiding? Was it something good or bad?

Was he working on a new song?

Why didn’t he want you to see it?

“Pancakes, right?” You were so lost in thought, the sound of Jack’s voice made you jump. You could feel your heart beating in your temples as you came back to reality.

“Yes, pancakes. With ham, no sausage please!” You called after him as he slipped his shoes on and headed out the door.

You shook your head, knocking away all of the thoughts that were telling you to snoop. You looked down at the sound of Lou-Lou’s wine, as if she could tell you were up to no good.

“Come on, Lou. Have more faith in me. I’m not gonna look at your daddy’s journal.” You swept her up in your arms and walked to the bedroom.

After a long hot shower, most of the time spent chastising yourself for even thinking about looking at the notebook, you checked your phone for a text from Jack. He still wasn’t back, the line at your favorite breakfast place, Highland Morning, was long, and even being a Louisville icon couldn’t get him the food any faster.

Hair wet and in a pair of comfy sweats, you started cleaning up around the place, making your way though each room so neither of you had to worry about it after your movie marathon. You queued up a couple of your favorite flicks in the theater room and gave Lou-Lou a treat before you came across it again.

Jack’s office was always meticulously clean. He always said his head was a messy jumble of lyrics and beats, he needed the space he worked in to be the opposite. There wasn’t even a reason for you to be in the office, but you felt drawn to it. You walked over to the desk, your eyes never leaving the 8x10 inch binding of papers.

You weren't sure what came over you.

It wasn't like you to snoop through Jack's things; there was a level of trust between the two of you that took months to build, mostly on your end, because Jack had trust issues from being in the industry, but as soon as you knew the coast was clear, you pounced on his journal.

You gently ran your fingers over the gold embossed lettering that read "JOURNAL" in a beautiful calligraphy. The book was leather bound, the pages slightly worn as if it had been loved and cherished more than used and abused. The voice in your head was loud and righteous, in a way that annoyed the shit out of you.

I really shouldn't do this. If he wanted me to know what was inside, he would show me.

Right?

Your finger slipped against the first pages as you opened the journal. You immediately recognized some of the lyrics on the page from his first songs. River Road was one of your favorite songs Jack had written, and to see the lyrics on the page, as Jack first wrote them brought tears to your eyes.

Still working

Still waking up looking for real purpose

Still trying to figure out what it's gon' take

Still trying to find connection with some real surface level types…

You got lost through hundreds of pages of lyrics and notes, it was as if you had a look into Jack’s mind, and it gave you a new appreciation for how hard he works and how much he puts into his music.

Minutes or hours could have passed, you weren’t sure, as you tucked your legs underneath you in Jack’s large leather desk chair and read every scribble you came across. You were so lost in the words, any mention of guilt for snooping having left you long ago, you didn’t even here Jack’s footsteps as he walked into the room.

“Mhm”, he cleared his throat loud enough to get your attention, slamming the cover of the book over your hand. “What are you doing?”, he asked in a deadpan tone. Jack’s face was a mixture of confusion and alarm, and while you were fully expecting him to be angry with you, surprisingly, there was not a ounce of anger in his voice.

You thought about giving him the puppy dog eyes you knew made him week, or maybe even letting a tear or two roll down your cheek, but in the end, you knew it was best to come clean.

“I-I was prying.” You let out a sigh, slumping down into the chair. Jack sat down on the couch across from you as you continued. “I was being nosy and was just wondering what you could possibly be writing down in here. I didn’t even know people still wrote in journals in this digital age.” You let out a guilty giggle, Jack scratching at his beard and giving you no relief from the weight on your chest.

“Are you mad?” You finally squeaked out against the silence in the room.

“Depends”, Jack stood up, reaching for the journal, but you pushed it away, much to his annoyance. “Depends on what?”

“What you saw in there.” He motioned for you to stand up, and you obliged, waiting for him to take a seat before you plopped down on his lap. Your hands naturally tangled with the curls at the nape of his neck as you watched him flip through the pages, landing on a couple of lyrics you immediately recognized, and others you knew never saw the light of day.

“I got this journal from my grandpa when I was in high school, and I just started writing down lyrics or ideas in here anytime something comes to me. Now I always keep it with me, even when I travel.” You could feel the breath of relief he let out, as if he’d been holding something in for such a long time.

“I’m sorry. I never should have touched your things without asking”, you apologized, Jack’s hand affectionately squeezing your thigh to let you know he understood and accepted your apology. “Its not that I didn’t want to share this part of me with you, its just I don’t think everything I write down is good, and I want you to think the best of me.”

You tipped Jack’s chin to look up at you with your finger. His gazed roamed your face, landing on your lips. “I always think the best of you, Jack, because you’re an amazing person. Not because of the music you create or the money you bring in. I could never think anything but the best of you, okay?” Jack nodded, craning his neck for a kiss until you met him the rest of the way. He was gentle, kissing your top lip, your mouth separating just enough to let out a breath before he latched on, deepening the kiss, taking your breath away.

You could feel your face heating up as you broke away, a lazy smile forming on Jack’s face as he leaned back in the chair. “If I knew I could get a kiss like that, I would have shown you this journal a long time ago. He flipped through a couple more pages before landing on a mostly blank page with only a title written at the top.

I Belong To You was written in big letters, signifying their importance.

“What’s this? Something you haven’t finished?” You asked, running a finger over the page. Jack let out a sharp breath as he raked his hand through his brunette mop.

“Something I haven’t started actually.” Jack gently pushed you up and walked over to the bookshelf that was framed by the large windows in the room. He walked back over with a couple of notebooks, handing one to you.

one to you.

You quickly flipped through to see the same title on almost all of the pages, some filled with lyrics, some filled with aggressively crossed out black boxes, and others blank. “What is this?”

“When we started dating, I had this idea for a song.” Jack took back the notebook and haphazardly tossed all that was in his hands on the desk. “I have been trying to write the song for the last two years, and I just can’t do it.”

Your heart swelled with love at Jack’s confession. The fact that he was even thinking about you when he was doing something he was so passionate about was enough for you, but to also be trying to write a song, you couldn’t have been more flattered.

“You know I don’t need a song, baby.” You grabbed his hand, massaging the knuckles as he tensed up against you. “Honestly, its okay.” You could tell he was defeated in a way that had bothered him for such a long time, and you wanted him to let that all go.

“I don’t know what the hang up is. Every time I go to write, its like I can’t fit everything that you mean to me into a couple of sentences, and believe me I’ve tried”, Jack nervously bit at his fingernails as he thought of all the nights he stayed up trying to put down a verse and being unable to get out a single word.

You stood, wrapped your arms around Jack’s neck and pulled him in tight so he was forced to focus on you.

“Listen to me, baby, I appreciate more than you’ll ever know that you want to write a song about me, and our relationship, our love together, but if it comes to you, it comes to you, and if it doesn’t, I’ll know we had something that was too amazing to put down on paper in two verses and a chorus, and honestly that’s okay with me.” You kissed again, this time, allowing your lips to linger together, as Jack held the back of your head, giving him full control of the kiss.

“I love you”, he mumbled out, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you too, Jack.”

Moments passed, and you could tell he didn’t want to move from the spot you were both in.

“Jackman.”

“Hmm?”, he answered barely above a whisper, his eyes closed.

“We still have a movie marathon to get to.” You both chuckled as Jack straightened up, giving you one last kiss on the forehead before moving to the theater room. You picked up his journals and placed them in the top drawer of his desk, where they would be out of sight, out of mind for you in any future snooping endeavors.

Jack was already snuggled in on the couch, digging into his omelet when you settled down next to him.  “You know I had a guy in high school who wrote a song about me?” Jack gave you a disbelieving look, making you scoff, a mouth full of pancakes.

“Unless he’s grammy nominated, babe, I’m not worried”, Jack chuckled, and you could see the remark didn’t bother him a bit. You just liked to dig at his ego sometimes for fun.

“Oh, no, definitely not grammy nominated. His name was Tripp, and I don’t think his band ever left his parents garage.”

Jack let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Tripp with the Garage band? What a joke.” You had to admit, hearing it out loud did sound funny. “How did the song go?” Jack was elbowing your ego just as much, thoroughly enjoying it.

“Oh it was so long ago, I can’t remember much but I think it was something like…”

“I’m working late, ‘cause I’m a singer

Oh, he looks so cute wrapped 'round my finger

The look on Jack’s face made you bellow with laughter, almost choking on your breakfast.

“I know you think that’s funny, babe, but its not.” He scowled at you before giving you a quick smile and turning back to the first of many movies you’d watch today.

[cornie-heesan]

Cherrygirlxx

STARING| Nakamoto Yuta x fem!reader

PROMPT| of creator!reader

DESCRIPTION| After the incident that happened at the house with Mark and Yuta, the Japanese man had been scarce around the house. Only coming home long enough to grab a fresh change of clothes. No more lingering stares, comments or slightly unsavory touches between Yuta and Mark’s girlfriend. Yuta has found himself a little play thing of his own that has been occupying his time.

WARNINGS| Dubious content my friends, perv!yuta, dom!yuta, sir kink, corruption kink, spitting, rough sex, unprotected sex [don’t, you’ll get pregnant and d*e], piv, spanking, fingering, oral [m and f recieving], AFAB body description, spanking, hair pulling, face sitting, choking, name calling [affectionate], if any of the previous statements bother you, or you don’t like it- don’t read it

WORD COUNT| 1,409

A/N| I have no idea where this came from lol

A/N| Pt.2 I've been MIA because I moved 30 hours across the country and had to drive lmao, here's something even if it's not much ;)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT- read at your own discretion

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yuta had made himself scarce around the house after the incident a few weeks ago- not because he was ashamed- more, curious to venture out and do something exciting on his own- preferably with a partner. He spent long nights in the library studying, watching movies, hell even sleeping- when there was one night that he’d me you, Y/L/N Y/N. All frills, ribbons, pretty nails and a devious smile.

For a few days the two of you shared flirty smiles and heated gazes- then the next Yuta’s eyes follow you around the library where he hops he could get a little glimpse under the short little skirts you wear. He takes note of your favorite drink order, the way you cutely nibble on the end of your acrylic nails as you read through some texts.

One day he sees you leaning against a bookshelf thighs continuously rubbing together. He watches as your chest heaves, cheeks a wicked shade of red and little gasps leaving your plump lips. He didn’t think you were going to be sick- his head cocks slightly as he glances around the practically empty basement level of the library.

Eyes land on a man, sitting only a few meters away from you- baseball cap partially covering his hair, a phone propped against a water bottle and another phone with an app open, that the mystery guy is currently dragging his finger against. Yuta’s eyes widen slightly as he recognizes the app- it controls a wireless vibrator. A high pitched whine draws his attention back to you- teary eyes focused on his own.

Your hips are twitching, you try to keep the noises down but you can’t help it- a squeal leaves your lips as your eyes roll back and your lips take an O shape. Yuta can’t help but hungrily roam your body- he can see the flex of your lower belly as your orgasm surges through you. Thighs twitching, nails digging into the grain of the bookcase you learned on- and he definitely didn’t miss the trickle of slick running down your thighs.

He packs up his things quickly, retreating to the single use bathroom before he got transfixed on watching the afterglow overtake your body. He was as hard as a fucking brick in his loose fitting gym shorts- a small dark patch of pre stating where the head of his cock was settled. He makes quick work of locking the door and shoving his shorts down to his ankles before gripping his cock tightly.

A hiss slips past his bared teeth at the contact, whole heartedly wishing it was your warm pussy wrapped around him. Yuta didn’t care that he didn’t know your name, he didn’t need to when just the mere thought of you made his balls heavy and stomach clenching with need. Honestly your reminded him of his favorite only fans creator- cherrygirlxx

He can’t help the debauched groan that leaves his lips as he fumbles to pull his phone out of his bag opening the app and pulling your account up- where he sees a newly posted video on your account. A very familiar shade of green is behind you along with several bookcases as the little microphone you wore picks up the little whimpers and cries that leave you only captioned

‘Please, sir 🥺’

Yuta can’t help but speed up his hand. His favorite fucking creator goes to his school and has been sending him ‘fuck me’ eyes every day in the library for the last two weeks. He subconsciously matches your frequencies- fucking his fist along with the recorded whimpers leave your lips. Dirty words leaving your lips as you beg and plead for ‘sir’ to fuck you, to make you cum. It only eggs Yuta on, pushing him over the edge as cum leaks from his reddened tip, dripping around his fingers until his balls feel completely emptied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yuta avoids his normal area in the library for a few days, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you in real life without popping a chub like a prepubescent boy. After the fifth day he decides that he can’t keep himself from seeing your pretty face in person any longer- that and the fact that and some of the younger brothers had figured out where he’d been hiding the last couple of weeks.

He doesn’t say a word to you- until one day you sat pertly on the chair next to him, Shining lip gloss coating your lips, skirt barely gracing your thighs, that were partly covered in stocking with little pink bows that dug into the fat of your them. Yuta’s brain short circuits, almond shaped nails ghosting over the skin of his arm where his lock and chain tattoo sat.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’re taken,” the pout of your glossy lips draws his attention away from your pink painted nails- he’s able to give you the most charming smile “No cherry girl, it doesn’t” you don’t shy away from his silent confession instead your eyes sparkle with mischief. Confidently you move closer to him, your breasts pushing against his arm, sticky lips ghosting his ear

“Would you be down to film some content with me?” Your breath causing tingles to shoot down Yuta’s spine but he tries to cover it up with a husky laugh “Do you always try this with guys around campus, princess?” He hums sliding his hand to rest lightly around your throat “No sir,” you sigh dreamily wishing he’d put just a little more delicious pressure around your throat.

“Who was the guy last week, hm?” His lips teasing along your jaw nipping at the skin “You know him,” you giggle sliding even closer to him- not like that was possible. Yuta thinks back to the man he saw with you last week- realizing on the way out he got a look at his face.

Ten Lee

How had he not recognized his frat brother? Better yet, how did Ten not notice that Yuta was sitting right there? The universe must be out for him at this point.

Your nails scrape along his thighs as he watches you sink down on to your knees staring up at him with those same fuck me eyes you had been giving him weeks ago.

“Can I please, please, please suck your cock sir?” Yuta couldn’t deny how pleasing you looked begging him to bring his cock out. The Japanese man smirk, subconsciously spreading his thighs wider

"Since you've been such a good girl, I don't see why not."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you guys always watching someone fuck in this god damn living room?” Johnny groans kicking his shoes off hearing the unmistakable sound of skin on skin slapping. First with the Mark bullshit and now Jaehyun, Haechan, Jeno, Jaemin, Ten and Yangyang have only fans pulled up on the tv.

“You know how Ten is friends with that creator ‘cherrygirlxx’? She has a man on her account now. He’s been trying to figure out why she hasn’t had him help with content lately.” Jaehyun explains like it’s some kind of research project “Ten, why are all your friends outside of this house into recording themselves?” John questions only to receive a shrug for an answer. Giving up Johnny just gives in and joins the watch party.

The videos change after the last one Ten helped with, using a wireless vibrator to get you off in the middle of the library. Next is a video of you was filled with that unmistakable ugly orange carpet in the basement of the library and the thighs of some mysterious man who’s cock you were currently choking on. Wonton whines leave your lips as drool trails down your chin as you happily swallow the guys cum with a smile on your face.

Next you were still in the library but now positioned on a table face down ass up, camera focused on your fucked out face with the lewd sounds of your pussy fill the air. The camera angle changes to your pussy being finger fucked by this man, gushes of slick leaving your body as you whither and moan for sir to let you cum.

“Jesus Christ what I would do to fuck that woman..” Haechan whines awkwardly moving his hips “Bro, ain’t no way she’s gonna let your pencil dick anywhere near her pussy.” Ten snorts “What? You hit it?” Jaehyun pipes up only to receive a smirk from the Thai man and no other answer. Ignoring his distracted brothers Jaemin swipes to the next video- where there was finally a change of scenery- albeit an outside scenery, a change none the less.

The guys pants shoved halfway down his thighs as his hand wraps around your hair arching your back as he fucks you against a tree that’s not too far from the frat house. It’s dim but the familiar shrill of music from a speaker. They sat analyzing the video trying to figure out if they could figure out who the guy was when the door opened to the front of the house.

Skin slapping and moans reach Yuta’s ears as he toes off his shoes pausing before remembering it’s not Mark because he’s got a late lecture today. His eyes find the TV where the familiar scene of his pelvis rhythmically slaps into the fat of your ass- begging him to fuck you harder on his cock. He doesn’t speak to the guys as he flops into an armchair scrolling through his phone.

The next video is the one you had only just posted a few minutes ago- you’re on your back, head dangling of the edge of an unmade bed. The man is only showed from the naval down- you have tear stained cheeks as you mindlessly babble about how good the cock inside you feels. If someone’s paying enough attention they can see the slight bulging movement of where his cock is hitting your insides.

“Wait a goddamn minute,” Yangyang speaks suddenly causing Jaemin to groan and pause the video “Doesn’t that tattoo look familiar to anyone!?” Yangyang shrieks pointing his finger aggressively to the tattooed hip “Bro, I was too busy watching her get fucked- not that guys dick?” Haechan whines before freezing finally noticing the bellybutton ring in the guys naval. Where has he seen that before?

Yuta ignores their comments on his tattoos- that is until Yangyang screamed smacking Haechan on the shoulders. They exchange eye contact before Haechan joins in on the screaming as the shake each others bodies aggressively “What the fuck are you two on?” Jaehyun grumbles peeling his eyes open to look at what they see “BUTTERFLY…TATTOO… BELLYBUTTON RING!!!!!” They scream in gasped breaths.

Yuta takes this as his sign to exit the room before everyone starts to realize they’ve been watching him I dick down the baddest [affectionate] only fans creator. Ten’s eyes catching the movement of Yuta slinking out of the room catching a quick glance of a familiar butterfly tattoo adorning his hip- a panicked scream leaves his mouth

“YOU’RE THE ONE FUCKING CHERRY?!?!?”

[voidandabyssal]

Hi! I am back! I love what you did with my request and I wish to ask for the same thing but with their brothers.

Again, take you're time and don't rush it <3

Thank you! I appreciate the compliment!!

Papyrus:

Well, unlike Sans which will pretty much just let the guy go (aside from the mild humiliation)

Papyrus will grab the thief’s hand, pull it out of your bag, and lecture him

The thief can struggle as much as he wants, he’s not getting out of Papyrus’s grip

And trust me, it will be long. The thief will have learned his lesson (or at least promised himself to never steal from another skeleton again)

You do have to drag Papyrus away though, or else you’ll be late for your date!

Honesty, this is probably the kindest reaction you’ll get out of any of the skeletons, lol

Edge (uf paps):

Edge is too distracted regaling you with the romantic plans for the night that he doesn’t see the thief until he’s already running off with you wallet

The audacity of them😤😤

Edge squawks in rage (and in embarrassment a little as well)

He’s taking off after the man, and even in his heeled boots Edge is a pretty quick runner

Suffice to say the thief does not get very far before Edge grabs them by the scruff of the neck and yanks them back.

Already he’s growling out death threats and such

Your wallet drops to the floor and Edge dutifully hands it to you

You have to distract Edge long enough for the thief to get away, otherwise an ambulance is going to be called

Edge really doesn’t take this humiliation well and he’s a little quiet for the rest of the night

Luckily with some reassurances (and kisses) Edge is back to normal

Blue (us sans):

Blue recognises the man following the two of you

He’s a well known pocket thief that the police have been searching for for ages.

No way was Blue going to let him slip by! He’s very sorry your walk together was interrupted, but justice must be served!

So technically the thief doesn’t even get the chance to grab anything of yours because Blue pretty much jumps on him screaming for him to put his hands behind his back

What is a scuffle turns into a full on brawl as the criminals friends jump in to pull Blue away

And you cant just leave Blue undefended, so you jump in and start fighting them off

Things only calm down once Blues coworkers arrive and untangle the pile of angry, injured humans

Well, at least Stretch will have something interesting to hear about

Crooks (ht paps):

The thief reaches for the cookies Crooks baked for you

Crooks bends down and nearly bites his hand off🥰🥰

Get you a man who will protect you like Crooks protects his food

Okay but he does end up feeling pretty bad, especially with how hungry the thief was looking

Crooks and you end up sharing some of your food with the poor guy

Apparently he’s been getting chased around by all these different skeletons all day.

Damn. Anyways, Crooks ends up giving some sweet advice to the guy

He hopes the man turns his life around and the two of you head on back home ready to do some more baking

And get Crooks some more pain killers ( that much sudden movement really kills his back, ouch)

[zahroreadsthings]

One of the things that I'm really enjoying about Carrie is the way the narration is interrupted by characters' thoughts in brackets. I dont think it's something I've seen before much, if at all?

And I still feel like I'm not good at describing what I want to talk about so bear with me

Having those lines break up paragraphs (including breaking them mid-sentence) lets us zoom into the character's head more than putting their thoughts in a completely separate sentence along with a thought tag (what do you call dialogue tags when they come at the end of thoughts and not dialogue lol?)

And captures the little flashes of thought we all have where we contradict ourselves or have a little tangential thought before bringing ourselves back on track

These two really stuck out to me:

No one would be up here between now and the Ball; the light that shone on the mural and on the apron where the King and Queen would be crowned

(they'll get crowned all right)

were controlled from a box backstage.

Cant remember the actual terms for this but it's reasonable to assume that Billy isn't the one narrating the first part there but the author; cutting the paragraph in two with what is obviously his direct thoughts brings us into his head much faster than, say, this:

[...] the light that shone on the mural and on the apron where the King and Queen would be crowned were controlled from a box backstage. They'll get crowned all right, Billy thought.

And this time when Chris is thinking to herself about Billy getting the pig blood:

She has meant to make him wait until he had actually done something,

(but of course he did he got the blood)

but it had all begun to slip out of her hands, and it made her uneasy.

Like, that would not hit the same if it was written something like

But he did do something, she reminded herself, then quickly squashed that thought down.

^that takes way too long to convey the thought imo! Sticking it in the middle to interrupt her thought mid-sentence is so effective at showing how that thought popped up and got shoved aside, as well as keeping the focus on her unease at the lack of control she has over Billy.

And sure it can be jarring and I wouldnt say it works all the time but I also love how it lets Carrie's feelings run parallel to her sewing planning:

She lay

(i am not afraid not afraid of her)

on her bed with an arm thrown over her eyes. It was Saturday night. If she was to make the dress she had in mind, she would have to start tomorrow at the

(i'm not afraid momma)

latest. She had already bought the material at John's in Westover.

Because how often do we freak out while trying to think an unrelated thing through at the same time! I love this book

[mayasdeluca]

Did you guys hear Maya call Carina babe and sweetie (?) in the Carina gets sued scene because Twitter is convinced both those things happened and I didn’t hear either??

[argiopi]

got the cops called on me for the most hilariously sensible reason last night

So i have a new industrial piercing (my first piercing..! i love it •w•), and it got infected because of course it did, it's a cartilage piercing and i live outside. Context i've been living in my car for the past few weeks, which has been pretty good but one of the tradeoffs is i do not have a bathroom. The piercer told me if the piercing got infected I could soak it in saltwater, so i needed a source of 1. salt, 2. water that is warm or at least not the below-freezing ambient temperature i currently exist in.

Gas stations have both these things. (I have yet to purchase salt for my occasional propane stove cooking). Only problem is it was past midnight in a rural area, so I didn't find a 24 hour convenience store until around 100 miles into my route for the evening.

At 3 AM local time the store was inhabited by just One stern-looking employee who was mopping the floor. My grungy ass walks in carrying a small collapsible bowl and immediately begins casing the place like the world's shittiest thief, looking for those little free salt packets. I looked around the (empty, no hot food at 3 AM) hot dog stand and saw only wet condiments so i circled back around to the grocery section in case they were selling salt shakers I could buy. No luck so i desperately returned to the hot dog counter in case I missed the salt, and noticed a cabinet labeled CONDIMENTS below the dog cooker, which did conceal salt packets. I stuffed a handful of them in my pocket and hoped the mopping woman wouldn't ask, then pivoted to the bathroom where I locked myself for the next fifteen minutes.

I filled my bowl with hot water which was actually cool water but at least it wasn't frigid, and mixed salt into it and held it to my ear. After a few minutes the staff, who had been understandably watching me from around corners the entire time I was searching for salt, knocked on the door. I replied "hello?" and she didn't respond, so I assumed she was just checking if anyone was in there before she tried entering to continue mopping. I finished cleaning my sad little ear and bought a bag of yogurt pretzels as a gesture of good will because I felt bad for taking her salt and taking too much time in the bathroom when she needed to clean.

Enter The Pig. I had returned to my car and grabbed my first aid kit to apply antiobiotic ointment, when an officer entered the store. Trepidation when he arrived since I knew I was being a freak, but then i thought he was just doing his own shopping, then he came back out and approached my vehicle.

Rolled down my window and he asks what was going on in the bathroom. (What if i had been just taking a long shit??). So I showed him my ear and my bowl and explained, as Alertly, Calmly, and Soberly as i could after driving for multiple hours after midnight, to the face of someone who can ruin my life with a penstroke, that I was on the road and had to soak this infected piercing. Luckily it was a confused young cop who was too bewildered to inquire much further, not an old hardass who might start asking more challenging questions such as "where are you going" or "where are you staying tonight and why are you washing your ear at the gas station and not there." He clearly barely even looked at my car - asked if i was a local when my license plate is from two timezones away - and let me go without even collecting my information.

That was the sixth time that police have confronted me for acting outside social norms. The first time was because I was plucking an invasive plant species from the side of the road and he thought I was falling when I walked up & down the slope. The second time I was walking home alone at night, and maybe someone called because I had a backpack on and they thought I was trying to rob a house. I was just walking home from the train. The third time I had been biking home in the dark without a headlight, and i fell on my face and didn't know I was bleeding until a bastard pulled up and told me someone called because they thought I got hit by a car. The fourth time was when I fell in the river last winter and i was knocking on random doors asking for directions home to minimize my risk of hypothermia, and I suppose the woman who drove me home called to send someone to make sure i was okay? The fifth time was the first time I slept in my car, which ironically was before I started serially sleeping in my car. I was falling asleep on the highway after an all-nighter so I took the next exit and took a nap in my driver's seat at the end of a random residential street before I ended up on the news, and that's how I learned suburbanites are paranoid as all hell about anything out of the ordinary because a cop knocked on my window and asked me if I was drunk (who would say yes to that question?). Now I select my sleeping sites very carefully, which is probably the most annoying thing about hashtag vanlife, but I haven't gotten The Knock again yet and sometimes when I pull into random public lands after dark I wake up to mountains I've never seen before and that fuels my soul.

Lesson learned is that if you need to snort sodium chloride in a gas station bathroom at 3 AM, just have an ear piercing and dampen the hair around it and carry a bowl around, and you've got a story that's Too Weird To Be Making Shit Up.

[todayisafridaynight]

maybe if i play y7 ill be normal <- played y7 four times this weekend, a decidedly not normal thing

[yousaytomato]

I might buy one of those hanging toy hammock things because the plushie situation is getting kind of out of hand

[unproduciblesmackdown]

a great time juxtaposing "helen" by joe iconis with "centerfold" by the j. geils band

[earthtooz]

x : LUNCH BREAK :*+ﾟ

in which: you don't visit wriothesley during his lunch break after last night's argument, so he goes to the court of fontaine just to see you.

warnings: approx. 1.9k words, PURE FLUFF, gn!reader x pathetic and soppy and lovesick wriothesley, canon setting, reader works at the court of fontaine, post-argument so very minimal angst, probs not in character LOL

a/n: there's not a lot of content regarding fontaine or wriothesley rn so i apologise if this isn't completely in character. what i do not apologise for, however, is the urge to make him as lovesick as possible.

There is a notable tension in the Fortress of Meropide, and although a prison isn’t a place for rainbows and sunshine, today it feels especially devastating. It seems that the lord of the prison is the one responsible for it.

Brooding at his desk, Wriothesley glances occasionally at the clock on his desk, growing more and more impatient with each document he has to read through. He is waiting for something: a knock on his door. He is waiting for the call of his name, the reason for their interruption, then your name will reach his ears and an unmatched excitement will bloom in his chest. Then you’ll slip through the doors with lunch for two, he’ll pull out a chair for you right beside him, and mask professionalism that betrays the eagerness your presence always brings out. 

Your absence must be because of the argument that happened last night. One that remained unresolved because he went to bed before you, too furious to try to talk it out. Yet, when Wriothesley woke in the morning, a wave of guilt washed over him when you weren’t pressed against him like usual. Instead, you were on the other side of the mattress, further than an arm’s length away whilst turned away from him and Fontaine’s chilly mornings had never felt colder.

If he didn’t need to go to work much earlier than you, he would have waited until you had woken up to leave, but being the lord of the Fortress of Meropide meant that his presence was demanded. So, with a lingering kiss to your cheek and then your temple, he leaves into the dewy mornings of Fontaine, looking forward to his lunch break that the two of you often share together.

Except now, lunch is almost over and there hasn’t been a knock on his door. No one has called his name- not people he cared about, at least. You haven’t slipped through the heavy set of doors. You haven’t come down from the Court of Fontaine to visit him, and Wriothesley’s patience is thinning.

His fingers itch with the need to hold you, to tuck you close to his chest and just keep you there for a few moments as time pass by. Especially after last night, Wriothesley needs you now more than ever. 

By the time there’s only one hour left in the work day, he snaps. Stands up from his seat with an unmatched sense of fervour because of the unnervingly quiet day and snatches his coat from the hanger, leaving documents unread as he makes a beeline for the exit of the prison. The guards listen attentively to Wriothesley’s final commands for the day in his absence and once the information is cemented, the dark-haired is off without another second wasted.

You, on the other hand, sit in your office drowned in piles upon piles of papers. Wriothesley is a passing thought every now and then, the memories of last night’s harsh argument settling like weights in your stomach. You miss Wriothesley, very dearly, and all you want is to settle things with him. However, the image of his furious eyes and clenched jaw terrifies you beyond belief, you’re not even sure if he’ll be calmer by the time you get home, so for the first time ever, you dread the idea of going home. 

What you are completely unaware of, however, is your lover that is storming your way, desperate to receive the medicine that will cure his moodiness and irritation. 

The knock on your door distracts you from the piles of papers on your desk. 

“Who is it?” you call out, voice reverberating around the spaciousness of your office.

“It’s Wriothesley, can I come in?” His tone is sharp and leaves no room for you to reject him, but the mere sound of his voice causes you to stiffen, grip on your pen tightening as the papers before you lay forgotten. 

What is Wriothesley doing here? He normally never comes up to the Court of Fontaine just to see you because leaving the prison would be far too neglectful. There was also half an hour before he was done for the day, so could there be official business that needs to be discussed? Something urgent, perhaps? 

If it was urgent, then why come to you and not Monsieur Neuvillette- or even Lady Furina?

“Yeah- yes, you can come in,” you mutter.

When the door clicks open, Wriothesley practically barges through, door shutting behind him as he marches towards you. Getting up from your chair, you’re frightened with anticipation due to  how intense his stance is. 

“Is something the matter?” You begin, panic seeping into your voice as he pauses before you, determination setting his eyes ablaze as he eyes you down like prey. “Wriothesley, you’re scaring me, did something happen at the prison-”

“Where were you at lunch?” He demands.

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“Why didn’t you come visit?” 

“Is… is why you came up here? To ask why I didn’t visit you during lunch?”

He nods, expression stern as usual save for a small pout.

“I was swamped with work,” you half-lie, gesturing to the desk behind you and although there is clear evidence on your table through the form of stacked folders and paper, a storm of uncertainty brews in his blue eyes. “I couldn’t visit if I wanted to get these done, I apologise.”

The dark-haired frowns. “Is that it?”

“Yes. That’s all.” His eyebrows furrow, creating crease marks in his forehead that you want to kiss away, alleviating his worries, but you hold yourself back from doing so in fear that Wriothesley does not want you touching him. 

However, a switch is flicked when Wriothesley’s stern expression softens, melting into one resembling a kicked dog. “So you’re not upset with me?” 

“Oh, is that also on your mind?”

“Of course, I don’t like it when you’re upset with me,” your lover mutters, looking away bashfully to conceal the reddening of his cheeks. “You aren’t though, right?”

“No, not upset. Scared, maybe, but definitely not upset.” 

His eyes are glossy when he looks back at you. “Scared, why are you scared?” 

“W-we didn’t end on a good note last night,” you rub your wrist nervously. “I didn’t know if you would be happy with seeing me. On top of that, you can be really intimidating sometimes, so admittedly, I was a little scared to come see you just in case that you did not want me there.”

Wriothesley visually deflates with your last statement, shoulders dropping and eyes glistening as he murmurs a small, pathetic, “is that so?”

He wonders what part about him ever made it seem like he never wants you beside him, and the thought that he had frightened you enough to prevent you visiting him is an upsetting one. You must see it in his eyes with the way you frantically begin to explain yourself. 

“Oh no, darling, I didn’t mean it like that-”

He turns his head away again, disappointed in himself. It’s one thing for his prisoners to consider him intimidating but it’s another for you, his own lover, to think so as well, and the thought that he had scared you creates insurmountable shame to swell within him. Yet, his whirlwind of anxieties ceases when your hand goes to cup his cheek, gently prompting him to look at you. Then, a kiss is pressed to the corner of his lips, and his heart skips a beat at the sensation, love blocking his airways when you pull away to smile up at him. 

“As scary as you might be, oh great lord of the Fortress of Meropide, I also know you will never hurt me,” you reassure. “Rather, I feel safest when I’m around you, please never doubt that.”

Wriothesley sighs, hand snaking up to grip your waist and pull you closer to him. “Thank you, my love. But I beg, even if you assume I am upset with you, please keep visiting my office during lunch, it is the part of the day I look forward to most.”

“If that is your request then maybe you just need to be good and listen to me instead of arguing until your head pops off,” you tease, patting his face twice and he huffs before muttering an ‘understood’. Anything to see you. “Is there something else you need from my office?”

“No, just wanted to see you,” he looks at the brown paper bag in his hands. “I brought you lunch, just in case you didn’t eat.” 

“Wriothesley,” you melt, “how thoughtful of you. I’ll make sure to eat it when I finish reading those contracts.”

“You should eat now, though. Don’t drown yourself in work, it’s not healthy.”

“I wish it were that easy, but these piles were dumped on my desk this morning and were assigned to be done by the end of the week.”

The hand that was on your waist comes up to gently hover over your cheek and Wriothesley studies you, icy eyes hardening due to the fatigue present in your expression. You grab his wrist, trying to diverge his attention, but you should know better than assuming that your wellbeing isn’t of utmost importance to him. “Unacceptable, I should have a word with your supervisor-”

“-no, no, Wriothesley! I insist, this is manageable.”

He frowns, deep and serious before surrendering to your pleas. “Fine, but if it doesn’t get better by the end of the week, then I will be interfering.”

“If you do so, my supervisor will be too scared to come in for a month,” you squeeze his wrist and gently guide it away from your face, ignorant to how your neglect for your own health hurts Wriothesley as well. He knows you love your job, but he still thinks that you deserve to live life carefree, that you should get everything you want without ever lifting a finger. “It’s alright, dear, you mustn’t worry about me when your work is a thousand times more stressful.”

“Impossible.” He worries about you every second of the day. Telling Wriothesley to stop fretting over you would be like telling him to stop breathing. “Now eat.” 

You yelp when he pulls you towards your chair, sitting you down. From the paper bag, he takes out a sandwich, one that you recognise is from one of fontaine’s favourite cafés, and he carefully unwraps it before raising it to your mouth.

“Wriothesley… this is a little embarrassing,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He doesn’t say anything, just persistently stares at you, gaze intense enough for you to give in. As you lean in to take the first bite, you are bashfully looking away from your lover, who wears a pleased expression, satisfied with the fact that you’re letting him take care of you. 

The tension from last night’s dispute hasn’t completely melted away, there are still things that need to be discussed calmly, but as you keep trying to push his hand away and battle Wriothesley’s indestructible stubbornness, he knows it will work out in the end. You love him and he loves you, and if you ever forget to visit him during lunch break again, then he’ll have to tear himself away from the prison and come up, just to meet you.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[yandere-sins]

Imagine getting isekai’ed into otome game as a background character, watching the main character going down routes as you live your peaceful, mundane life, but you’ve unknowingly been going down a route as well, a route for a hidden character that you didn’t discover during your time playing the game.

That character being the reason the game has a dark content warning.

Gosh anon, that idea is so good!!!! I didn't know it would tickle all the right places in my brain, but when I started I couldn't stop lol. Love it, thank you for sending it in ♥

If this had one of these super long titles that are tmi it would be:

I got Isekai'ed into an Otome Game as a Background Character and now I Have to Finish It with the Secret Yandere Love Interest!!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

A serene smile spread over your lips as you watched the two lovebirds in the corner of your coffee shop.

Swirling the milk into a cup, it created a little white heart surrounded by foamy coffee, its aroma drifting into your nose. Had someone told you that the little things like a cup of coffee made with love and care were enough to give you the peace of mind you always wanted in your previous life, you would have laughed at them. For you, it had always been the hustle, the making money, finding a partner, and creating a family. Make everyone proud while being successful, whether it costs you nights of sleep or days without proper meals. But looking at yourself now, it all seemed so far away now, and you let out a content sigh before setting down the cup in front of the customer at the bar. 

"You seem happy today," your regular at the counter noted, picking up the cup and taking a moment to appreciate the aroma just like you had. A smile sneaked onto their lips, too, after they took a sip, and you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride and happiness when they gave you a satisfied nod. 

"I am! I'm really getting accustomed to my new life here, it's... been a while since I've been so content."

The truth behind everything that happened to you was something you couldn't speak about lightly. Not when it turned the life you knew upside down, leaving you to start over completely. One day you were an employee of a well-known company, responsible for sales and reports and everything stressful. And the next, you were in your favorite, cozy video game, running the coffee shop the main character liked to visit with all the romance options in the game.

Isekai was the genre that came to mind when you thought about your situation. Luckily you were spared the memories of your death in the real world, the circumstances blurry as you barely remembered going home late from work, only to wake up in this very different universe. Perhaps you were just comatose, and this was a dream. Still, by now, you had managed to slip into your role as the barista of the small coffee shop, a barely mentioned background character, just fine.

Your eyes jumped back to the couple in the corner, giggling and teasing each other over a group project, and you felt an immense relief you weren't reincarnated as the main protagonist and had to go through the years of studying and trying to establish connections with the love interests again. You already did that in your old life, and it wasn't as romantic and fun as the game made it out to be. You only played it because it got your mind off things, the art was pretty, and it had the exact amount of cozy time management you needed to relax. But living as the main character in it? No, thank you!

"Jealous?" your regular teased, and you chuckled, shaking your head. They tapped their—now empty—cup, and you took it from them, replacing it with some water until you had the next cup of coffee ready for them.

"I just think it's cute. I never had someone so interested in me they'd take me out for coffee and share their cake with me when I was younger."

Your words tasted a little bitter on your tongue. Still, you genuinely couldn't wish for anything but the main character's happiness. It was just the feeling of being loved, desired, and wanted that you missed, even though your new life was more than satisfactory despite you feeling a little lonely sometimes.

"Well, it's never too late to start," they chuckled, taking up their fork and cutting off the tip of their strawberry shortcake, including the big chunk of strawberry on top, picking it up and holding it out towards you. 

"Oh, I wouldn't dare--"

"I insist! As thanks for the amazing coffee every time I come here."

Nudging your lips with their fork, you let out an awkward chuckle. It was okay, right? They wouldn't sue you for eating the cake they paid for, would they? This was just a silly little game. What could go wrong with you accepting their kindness?

Opening your lips, you let them feed you the cake, taking a moment to let the sweet and fruity notes mix with the fluffy whip cream before you were sent straight to heaven. Not to toot your own horn, but your baking skills had improved so much since you started working at the shop. Who knew you had that in you?

Occupied with the moment of bliss as you let the cake flavor mix in your mouth, you hummed happily before devoting yourself back to making the coffee with a smile on your face. Unaware of your regular fixating on the fork you had just eaten from, staring at it like it was some strange artifact. Your phone dinged softly in its drawer, and you checked it briefly to see the notification pinging up, saying, "Achievement unlocked: Cake-Master - Provide the most delicious cake to your customers."

"Excuse me!" the main character called out to you, stepping up to the counter, and you directed your attention to her, ignoring the little game notification you've been receiving since starting your new life here, the love interest not far away before the two began fighting over who was going to pay the bill this time lovingly. Of course, the love interest won, but you wouldn't have expected it any other way. Seeing the blush on the main character's face after her romance option told her he'd "always take care" of her made you grin like a little fan, and you cheered them on in your head. 

By the time you returned to your regular, their knuckles had gone white with how hard they were gripping the fork in their hand, their eyes following the couple who was about to leave. For a moment, it made you wonder if they had a crush on either of them, their sweet interaction surely uncomfortable if that was the case. But you didn't remember there being a jealousy scene in the game. You'd know, almost playing it 100% before your death. There apparently was a secret route you never got but were trying your hardest to achieve. Now you were left to wonder what it entailed.

But the second you returned, they looked up at you, expression softening and the tension disappearing, and you chalked it up to having witnessed a cringe moment that they had gotten so awkward. "Thank you for the cake, that was really nice of you! Do you want another fork?" you asked and were met with a headshake and a smile. 

They quickly began eating their cake and complimenting your baking skills, stroking your growing ego when they rubbed their belly. 

"I never had a cake that good!" they proclaimed, and you laughed out loud, overjoyed that you had made them so happy. 

"Say..." they suddenly spoke up again, leaning on the counter and watching you with gentle eyes. Your heart set out for a second, tension rising as you didn't know what they were going to ask. Ever since you opened the coffee shop, the main character, love interests, and this regular had come by constantly. If you were honest, you enjoyed their visits more and more. Their presence felt like it belonged here with you, and you were a part of something bigger after all, washing away the small, lonely part of you. 

And maybe... just maybe... this was how your happy end would play out.

"Are you this nice to every customer?"

Halting your movements, you set aside the brew head that you used on the espresso machine, despite having to clean it, thinking about your answer for a moment. It was a strange question to ask someone who worked in customer service. Still, you appreciated your regular, so you didn't want to give them a snarky answer.

"Uhm, well, I am just trying to make everyone feel welcome! But of course, it's a bit different with my regulars! After all, they come here often, like a second family. So I guess I'm a bit nicer because you really get to know and appreciate these people that stay to chat and tell stories."

"I see," they muttered. "Family, huh..."

After that, you suddenly were swamped with sudden orders, excusing yourself to fulfill them, chatting and laughing with even the people that were just passing by. Maybe you really were just nice? Perhaps this new environment had made you more relaxed and gentle than the harsh world you lived in, and it was showing? But their question was shoved into the back of your mind as you kept fulfilling orders and earning your keep.

Once the rush was over, you returned to your regular, only to find their seat empty. Strange, you thought. You could have sworn that you felt their eyes on you the whole time you were away, but luckily, they didn't walk out on their tab, leaving the money and a folded-up napkin beneath their empty cup for you to find. You quickly stored away the bills, trusting your regular with knowing what they had to pay after so many weeks of the same order.

You were about to throw away their napkin when you noticed some red marks on them, unwrapping the paper to find a note scribbled in what you had to assume was ink. 

"You're so beautiful when you laugh."

The surprise wore off quite fast, and you smiled, thinking nothing of it but that it was a nice compliment from your regular. Still, you ended up throwing the napkin away—not knowing if it was dirty, after all—taking the coffee cup and plate to the sink to clean them, overseeing the red tip on the fork that was too dark to be from the strawberry.

The rest of your day was uneventful, and by the time you were closing, you were tired and ready to tug in for the night, wrapping up your business at the shop quickly before walking home. You didn't have a chance to look at your phone since you glanced at the achievement notification, so you took it out, startled when you saw a dozen new messages. 

Achievement unlocked: Happy new life - Be content with your new life

Achievement unlocked: A fork for two! - Share a fork with someone special

Achievement unlocked: Jealousy - Make someone special jealous

Achievement unlocked: Soothing - Calm someone special down with your presence

Achievement unlocked: Family - Have someone be moved by your words

Achievement unlocked: The nicest person in town - Be beloved by all, but especially by someone special

Achievement unlocked: Blood in the cup - Have someone hurt themselves at your coffee shop

Achievement unlocked: Wonder-Barista - Complete twenty orders in less than thirty minutes

Achievement unlocked: Strange compliment - Receive a compliment through unusual means

Achievement unlocked: Blooming infatuation - Have someone special fall in love with you

Achievement unlocked: Shop-Pro! - Close the shop twenty times after making a profit from your work

Achievement unlocked: Tired - Hard workers deserve to relax

You blinked a few times, surprised by what you were reading and a little weirded out by some of these achievements. They gave you some extra coins in your shop till and reputation with the townspeople, so you usually didn't mind them. But to say some of their descriptions were weird was an understatement. You couldn't even remember someone getting hurt at your workplace that day.

By the time you reached your apartment, you decided to ignore the strange notifications and just let the day come to an end with a hot bath and your favorite show. But you were startled when your phone suddenly began ringing loudly, even though you had turned off the sound back at the coffee shop after the first notification. The first messages that appeared before you were more achievements, and you stopped turning the key in your door as you read them.

Achievement unlocked: Follower - Have someone special follow you home

Achievement unlocked: Welcome home! - Arrive at home, not alone

Achievement unlocked: Wherever you go, I'll be watching you - Ɨ ΔΜ ΔŁŴΔ¥Ş ŴΔŦĆĦƗŇǤ ¥ØỮ

Lifting your head, you looked around you, glancing over your shoulder and into the courtyard below. No one was out; everyone was at home eating dinner and occupied with their lives. Confused, you swiped all the notifications away before another pop-up appeared.

ALERT! You're about to enter X's route. Do you want to continue?

> Yes > No

Panicked at this point, you pressed "No," but nothing happened. You kept tapping it repeatedly, not understanding what was happening with your phone. But nothing changed, the notification staying in place. The sound of something breaking inside your apartment tore your focus away from your phone, startling you. 

You must have finally managed to close it, the pop-up disappearing just as you unlocked the door to your apartment, still having held on to the key when you were surprised by the sound. Darkness and silence greeted you from inside, everything seemingly normal.

Majorly confused, you shook your head, slowly entering the hallway leading inside. "Hello?" you called out, reaching for the light switch. The light flickered on, and... there was no one. Holding your breath, no sound reached your ears, and you groaned, realizing you got freaked out about... nothing. 

This wasn't some kind of horror game, and the story never had a murder-solving subplot. True, the ratings for it were kind of strange—it being rated as 18+ on the website—but seriously, what should happen in a cozy little city like the one the game played in? You didn't even think they had a police station here.

Pushing off your shoes as you shrugged off the weird feeling from before, you walked up the hallway to your living room, turning on the light before coming to an abrupt halt. There were broken pieces of glass underneath your living room window, but what really freaked you out came into view only when you lifted your head. You could look into the mirror of your cabinet door from your position, red marker dripping from it as if someone had hastily scribbled on it just seconds ago. You weren't sure it was a pen anymore, judging by its deep red color and the fluidity of it.

"𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺"

Your phone pinged.

Achievement unlocked: 

On the Highway to Hell - Unlock the secret route