#phm#ryland grace#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers
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Nsfw ishimondo?
I'll see what I can do! It may take me a bit to write it since I'm working on AoP right now, but if I get the inspiration for it, I will certainly write it! Thank you for taking the time to leave a request! If you see this post in my /ficreq tag, then that means it's either not completed yet, or I merely forgot to delete it. Either way, I hope you enjoy it if/when I write it!
5sos fics
larry fics
Requests
Putri and I have came to a conclusion that we now take requests from readers :))
We like smut……
/yeap/
And we would happily write scenes you want us to write
But we only write Banghim and Krisho ^^”
Okay maybe daejae or hunhan or baekyeol or kaisoo too…..
BUT! NO JONGLO PLEASE!
/they’re under age go awei/
So feel free to leave us an ask :)
I don't know, it might be a crazy one.. April is about to commit the suicide and Jackson talks her out of this/ saves her (They're complete strangers.)
Can you write a drabble where japril misscarries?
It’s been almost four days when she finally begins to pick herself up. Her back is sore and her eyes are painfully dry from the spilt tears that have seemed endless.
"Hey."
April glances up, eyes catching her husband’s and she wets her lips, hands tucking in her lap lazily, “Hey.”
He comes to sit down beside her, making sure his leg grazes hers and he drops a hand to cover her own, “How are you feeling?”
She shrugs slowly, focusing ahead, “Numb. I just- I didn’t know how much I-” she breaks down then, hands cupping her own face and falling apart for the hundredth time that week.
Jackson nods silently, pulling her into his side, carefully wrapping his arms around her back and kissing the top of her head, “I know.” He whispers, eyes closing at the memory, at the devastating news, “Me neither.”
"How did this happen?” She asks him after a quiet moment, looking up to see his own saddened face, his own eyes full of pain and hurt, “I just- Why did this have to happen to us?”
He doesn’t reply for a second, only pulls her closer, tugging the light blanket back up to cover her legs and he shuffles closer beneath the cloth, “I wish I could answer that, April.” Jackson voices, his sole attention focused on her, on her desperation. “Maybe that’s just how the universe works sometimes.”
He’s not trying to start another fight, lead them into another disagreement over science versus faith. He wants her to see him, understand him, listen to him. He wants his wife to stop crying and realise that the world may not be as holy as she’d first imagined.
"Yeah.” She breathes, leaning her head into the crook of his neck and grasping his t-shirt in her fist, “Maybe.”
AU: Student/Teacher - Japril drabble [part 2]
Since you guys are all perverts and wanted a continuation of the professor/student drabble, I caved and wrote some more of this. I don’t think it’s as good as the first part, but I’ll let you guys be the judges if that since you requested a follow-up. Enjoy and let me know what you think! :)
Bone meets wood. Wood meets wall. It’s all the result of a human body banging into a desk, slamming against old bricks and screeching along the stone floor.
"We should stop."
"Do you wanna stop?" His voice is raspy, uneven almost and she has to swallow a breath when she glances up and catches his gaze. He smiles, green eyes like a viper flickering from her disheveled hair to her bruised but soft lips. "Because I don’t."
April quietly groans, hands finding the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer, making sure her legs are wrapped so tightly around his waist that he can’t move, can’t leave. “Me neither.”
Jackson, she calls him since they’re now on a very personal first-name basis, grins, hands sliding up her sides and cupping the sides of her neck, “Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?”
She holds back a giggle, slipping a hand down his chest, well-built for an English professor, she tells herself (that is, until she sees those eyes and forgets he’s even academic in the first place, and wonders why he didn’t sooner become a model). Her fingertips naughtily grip the waistband of his pants, pulling the belt towards her own lap and running her hand over the evident swell. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”
"Oh, really?" He teases, rougher hands grabbing the backs of her knees and pulling her to stand up. She stumbles against him, steadying herself with a gentle hand to his chest.
She’s not the least bit (although, she is) nervous around him anymore. And she’s quite glad that she’d had the balls to do what she did in the first place. What if some other girl, looking to score a better grade had gone in there with a bigger personality or a better body? Granted, it wasn’t a sure thing the guy would be interested, given how risky this entire situation is. But what if he was it for her? Him, her incredibly handsome and doable teacher with the writing talents of a poet and the patience of a Saint. And then her, the kind-of quiet sometimes-annoying redhead with a perky personality and a tendency to overreact? What a pair they would make.
Him, her, desk and ruler.
Maybe became reality.
"Turn around."
Her eyes widen, briefly glancing back over to his door. Shut. She thanks her stars for having the reflex of locking it upon arrival. “Yes.”
Hands pressing to that old table, no longer littered with books since they’d fallen to the ground, she leans forward when he steps so close to her that she can barely breathe. She’s breathing him in. The smell, the cologne, the wonderful odour of perfect coffee and peppermint gum.
Maybe he should step away, back away and turn around before things get too complicated, too twisted.
They’ve been at this for weeks though. This, playing around and making time and hiding in offices and libraries.
"What are you-" It’s not good for her self-control, for her promise to God when she can feel him so close, when she can sense the way his hands melt into her flesh and his eyes dig into the back of her skull as he presses himself to her, lap to behind and tight pants against loose skirt. It’s a dangerous combination.
"We should stop." Her breathing is uneven, fingernails clutching at the old wood, finding her back arching into shape when he slips his arm around her front and lowers a hand, flesh meeting cotton and pulling material to the side. She gasps then, all sharp breaths and bitten bottom lips.
Jackson, though she does still enjoy calling him Mr Avery for the sake of being ‘naughty’, rests his other palm to her waist, dropping his lips to hers when she curves her neck to kiss him, to meet him, to see him.
"Are you sure about that?" He whispers.
They’re ignoring the creaks in the hallway next door and the loud bang of heavy papers meeting the floor. They’re ignoring all rationality, all logic. They’re ignoring the University’s strict policies, bans on certain kinds of relationships.
"No. Keep going, Sir."
They’re ignoring all the wrongs. Because something that feels this good can’t be bad, right?
Can you write something about April being insecure because she's only been with Jackson and he was with so many women and he assures her that she's his best?
"Do you ever feel like you’re settling?
He frown out of confusion, raising a brow as he continues to stare down at his file. She hates when he does work in bed, but he’s in charge now and she has to handle that.
"Settling for what?"
April sighs, fingers twitching in her lap as she fondles her wedding ring.
"For me. For a life with me."
Jackson lifts his head then, “Are you being serious?”
She groans in frustration, “Yes, I am! I’m actually asking you that. I mean- Don’t- Don’t you think that you could have done better than me?”
His workload is quickly thrown onto the ground beside their bed and he sighs, turning to grasp her hands, his own fingers toying with the giant rock on her finger.
"April," he starts, eyes searching his wife’s so he knows she’s listening. "I could never settle for you, you’re already the one I wanted." He tells her and she closes her eyes with a breath.
"Yeah, but- Look, you were with plenty of women before me. I mean, I don’t know how many and I-"
"Do you wanna know? I can tell you. There probably weren’t as many as you’re thinking there were."
The redhead rolls her eyes, “No, I don’t want to know, I just- Don’t you sometimes feel like you could still be single, and messing around with other women. Because, I mean, they’re better than me. I know that. They’re more experienced, and I’m like the least experienced person you’ve probably ever been with. Don’t you feel like you could have done better than me?” She’s not pitying herself, she’s honestly just curious.
Jackson just stares at her, “No.” He shuffles closer, pulling her into his lap lovingly, “Look, I married you. I chose you. I love you. Nobody else, alright? Just you. Always, and I’ve never felt like that before. Just for you. So, no. I don’t want anybody else, and no, I don’t miss other women. I love you.” He cups her face, fingers brushing her hair from her face.
April softly smiles, hands snaking around his neck, eyes focusing on his eyes as she shifts to straddle his waist, “You’re sure about that? You’re not gonna run if things get hard and I start to piss you off and you wanna kill me?”
He’s not sure if she’s joking or not, so he just cradles her face and leans up to peck her lips, “April. I’m never gonna run. Unless it’s after you because you ran away first and I can’t live without you.”
She smiles brightly then, biting her lip and her fingers stroking the base of his skull, “Yeah?”
"Yeah. And you know what? You are, by far,bthe best I have ever been with."
April rolls her eyes, “I really doubt that.”
He smirks and moves his hands down to her waist, “No, it’s true. You are. Because I am proud of you. Because I love you. Because I am so freaking glad that I am the only man you’ve ever been with.”
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I love that I am the only one to touch you, kiss you," He leans down to her neck, placing his lips against her carotid, "I love that I am the only one to ever be this close to you, be inside of you."
Her face flushes and she licks her lips, hands moving to cup his face, hold him against her chest as he kisses lower,
"I don’t want someone who’s already been touched, been had. I want someone like you, who still blushes when I say things like ‘inside’ or who gets so easily turned on. I want you, because I am proud that you are mine. And I am yours. Always. And I love you, so… no, I did not settle for you. I want you, for the rest of my life, whether you believe me or not."
April giggles, pressing her forehead to his and grasping the edge of his t-shirt, “I believe you.”
He smirks, “I’m glad. Now, can I please make love to my wife?”
April seduces Jackson as he is her professor for a better grade? Thank you love!
"Are you serious?"
Her brunette friend, Lexie, nods, eyes wicked and blowing on her painted nails, “Yeah, Mer said that she hooked up with Professor Shepherd when he flunked her out of psychology.”
"What, and nobody knew about it?!" The redhead is stunned, gobsmacked almost, and she licks her lips, "How did that even happen though?"
Lexie grins, twirling the lid of her polish bottle back on, “Uh, it’s really easy. You just go after who’s failing you and work those dimples.” She taps a hand to April’s face, “Believe me, it’s all just a matter of bending over and wearing short skirts.”
April pauses, tongue tracing her lips as her friend continues,
"You should try it-"
"Lex, you know I’m-"
The brunette holds up her hands, “I’m not saying you’ve gotta put out for the guy, just fool around with him. That’s what I did with Sloan.”
"You and Professor Sloan?!"
"Yeah." She states proudly, "Now, if you’re failing English, then I recommend you go find that handsome teacher of ours and - what did I say?"
April takes a deep breath, holding for air as she stands and grabs her books, “Work the dimples.”
——
"Can I come in?" Her hand is still pressed to the door from knocking and she holds back a nervous tremble when he nods.
Stepping foot inside his office, she makes sure to close the door behind her and walks closer to the older man’s desk. Okay, he’s only like five years older and she’s fairly sure that it’s not legal for someone so attractive to be educating young women.
"What can I do for you?”
What can I do for you, she wonders to herself, trying to keep her eyes on his face and not drift to his chest or lips. Maybe she shouldn’t have shut the door. It’s not like they was anybody around-
"Miss Kepner?”
April quickly breathes, hands folding in her lap after placing her books on the corner of his desk. Wooden, large, great. She’s trying to ignore those few dozen fantasies she’s had about him taking her on it.
"I wanted to come and see you about my grade. Um, on that last essay?”
He frowns, leaning back in his chair, and removing those studious glasses from his face. Mother of- did he have to?
Her professor, last name Avery, first name Jackson, sighs and raises a brow at her nervous stance. “Look, it’s just that-”
He’s still new, still getting adjusted to being a teacher for young women, so she’ll give him a little pause.
"You failed because you were clearly distracted. Your essay didn’t make much sense so there wasn’t much for me to evaluate.” He explains, hands gesturing about and she’s unwillingly reminded of those fantasies. Him, her, desk and ruler.
"I wasn’t distracted.” Hell, what was the worse that could happen? She creases her forehead tenderly and chews on her lip, making sure her perky dimple are his sole focus, “I wasn’t. I promise you, and I- I’d like to take the exam again.”
"That wouldn’t exactly be fair to the other students now, would it?”
April falters, eyes wide open and shaky hands suddenly going numb, “Well, what can I do to change your mind?”
Professor Avery, though she prefers to think of him as Jackson, clears his throat and glances away from her for a second, obviously catching the way she’s staring at his lips.
She takes a step backward, sitting down on the table across from his desk, littered with old novels books and manuscripts. He tries to ignore the way she rests her hands in her lap, the way her short skirt rides up her naked thighs when she spreads her legs slightly and softly bites down on her lip, hazel eyes focused on his.
"Is there nothing I can do? Because, you see, I really need this grade. I can’t fail my year, Professor, because then my daddy wouldn’t be happy with me.” Yeah, she feels kind of wrong bringing her adoring father into this mess, “I mean, would you like your children to fail a class? I don’t even know if you have kids, do you? Are you a daddy?”
Lexie would be so proud right now.
"I, uh-” His throat is dry and she leans forward then, hands on her knees and fingertips tracing her own flesh. “No, I don’t. I’m not.”
April hides her nerves when he stands up. She invitingly licks her lips, reminding herself of those many fantasies and dreams. Maybe.
"Do you wanna be?” Guys love that whole authority-thing, right? They like feeling in power, like they’re in charge of everything? “Mine, I mean.”
He, she’s referring to him as Jackson now since he’s within such close proximity that she can practically feel his mouth, stops in front of her. His eyes, green like peppermint, and his small smile that reminds her of Christmas are enchanting her, and she lets her tongue dart out to dry her lips. His gaze follows her and she suddenly feels extremely heated, anxious almost.
"Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?” She repeats finally, voice raspy and eyes glancing down to focus on his lips. “Nothing at all?”
She grabs one of his hands, cursing herself when she drops it to her leg, feeling his fingertips tracing the skin of her thigh. He copies the move with the other hand, and she softly gasps when he grasps her hips, pulling her body toward him.
"Maybe I can think of something.” He’s not rude, and she doesn’t feel pressured or threatened. Only turned on, eyes flickering over to his desk. Him, her, desk and ruler. Maybe.
