#^ used my forehead for this keyboard smash

[book-girl4evaaa]

Just came back from watching six and:

AFTNGRMTIGKHMDBRSFMSASHDGMMJFSGHFHNDDJHDMHDKGFKHTJKNGDDGBDSBNDNMYRMRHHMDNHHDHNHNHDHHDNMDHKGJFJSVFCCDSCBFITKYHFAFADYEYRTLJGDNFDDAYKBSVAF

[alucarddear]

Position anon again, would you please write a NSFW alphabet for Alucard? Pretty please? 🥺

Alucard N S F W Alphabet*

I'm personally offended that I haven't done this for Lulu before. Anyway, rather than just spelling out his name, I'll give you the entire alphabet. Heh. This is LONG! Your thoughts and keyboard smashes are welcome. 🤭

P.S. I go explicit and specific; read at your own risk. I also tried my best to keep it as gender-neutral as possible, so this is [Alucard x You]. However, I did have a little self-indulgent fun with W: wild card, the only section with an obvious she/her indication. Just so you know!

A: Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Aftercare is not optional to this dhampir. It's a must. It doesn't matter if you had a quick romp or a long night, he'd still take the time to treat you right, especially if he'd been rather rough with you.

Forehead kisses, soft caresses, helping clean you up—you name it and he's got it covered. It's all about making sure you feel loved, appreciated, and cared for.

Alucard is not one to just up and leave or make you feel used. In fact, it's noticeable how much more he dotes on you after actually using you up good and fucking you raw into next week. 😏

B: Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Your neck. Let's not even pretend that Alucard doesn't gravitate towards it. As you ride him, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and nips and pecks at your throat. There's a part of him that wants to sink his fangs into you then and there and another that wants nothing more than to whisper sweet nothings against your skin as you throw your head back in bliss.

Alucard likes his hands—the way they're so large against yours; how perfectly your hands feel in his own. He likes his hands gripping your thighs or hips, his hand coming down to slap your ass, his hands caressing every inch of you. The way his hand closes around your wrist, encircling it completely as if it was made to do nothing but. The way he pushes you down with his hand on the small of your back as he prepares to take you from behind. Most of all, all of the things his hands can do to make you cum.

C: Cum (anything to do with cum)

Alucard's desire to spill his seed inside you is next to nothing sometimes. If you'd let him, he'd bury himself balls-deep and cum inside you each and every time.

He loves to make you cum, loves the way you sound—the hitching of your breath, your begging, the way you can barely keep yourself from shaking as he coaxes yet another orgasm out of you. He loves to praise you for it. "God, you're fucking beautiful," is something you hear often. It just never gets old.

D: Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

Alucard loves when you allow him to bend you over whichever way he pleases. Loves how tiny and pliable you look underneath him, adjusting and propping your arms and legs as he sees fit. Just the sight of you like that, it's enough to push him over the edge.

So, you know he draws you—you are his muse after all. You've seen his sketches. But not the ones of your beautiful, naked body. Not even the tasteful pieces he draws as you sleep. Not the ones where, try as he might, he just can't replicate how utterly divine you look when he fucks you. He's a talented artist, but nothing tops the real thing.

E: Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Is he very experienced? No. Does he know what he's doing? Hell yes. His mother was a doctor and his father is a man of science. He lives in a castle full of resources. He has deep knowledge of biology—he's got the theory down pat. Sure, he fumbled a little the first few times, but he quickly learnt how you like to be pleased.

Besides, being a dhampir, Alucard is in tune with your body's responses to his ministrations. When you're intimate, he can practically feel your heart racing, dear. He knows when you're close, can tell when he's hitting it good, need I say more?

F: Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Mastery. He sits on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor to support you sitting on top of him with your legs bent on either side of him, your feet flat on the bed. This position allows you to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss. It lets you start off slow, very intimate—with you grinding against and riding him. Once you're a little tired (or he starts growing impatient), he simply grips your hips and pounds up into you until you're a screaming wreck. His grip on your hips and his feet securely planted on the floor allows him to rut into you fast. And the view? Fucking fantastic. He loves watching you come undone like this, seeing you throw your head back and expose your throat to him. Yes.

For a quick romp, you can't go wrong with doggy style. When you're in his study and you both get a little too distracted? He’ll bend you over his desk and have his way with you.

G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Oh, he's very serious about giving both of you a good time, alright. He might do something that makes you giggle, sure, but for the most part it's probably accidental and not his intention. Sex with Alucard can be intimate and sweet or downright animals humping in the undergrowth (👀), no in between. He's not here for the shits and giggles, darling.

H: Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It does match. Maybe not all the time completely bare, but he keeps himself neat and tidy. Do you see his luxurious hair? He takes care of himself down there too.

I: Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Alucard loves to see you and hear you. He's considerate and goes out of his way to find what works for you. So much so he probably has ruined you for anyone else. You'll never find a more receptive lover; it’s time to accept that.

When you make sweet love, he whispers sweet nothings against your skin. He peppers kisses all over you and makes you feel like the most gorgeous being on the planet. He's not afraid to voice his thoughts out loud too, praising you and urging you on.

J: Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

You remember those naughty sketches of you? Yep. He has used them a couple times while you were away. You're in his thoughts whenever he touches himself.

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Edging. He not-so-secretly loves it when you beg. How are you to know how much more you can take? He'll just have to show you.

When you moan his name as you grip the sheets and quake beneath him? Yeah. He loves it, especially when you can barely even make out the words for “Adrian, please, please, please.”

When you take control and ride him like your life depends on it, it does something to his brain. You on top, taking control and looking absolutely beautiful as you do so... he could cum just from the thought of it.

There is a part of him that likes the thought of cumming deep inside you and breeding you. Maybe it's that loneliness that sometimes nags at him, maybe he yearns for a family, but he can't lie this feels utterly divine.

L: Location (favourite places to do the do)

The bed is cliche, but it works and is comfortable. Your kitchen counter, desk, against the wall or a tree, table, or out at some secluded clearing by the lake... Alucard is truly not that picky, as long as you're not out in the public for other eyes to see and you’re both comfortable.

M: Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your reactions and enthusiasm. Knowing you're into it just as much as he is.

When you sashay towards him, crooking your finger at him to beckon him closer? He's right there with you in a heartbeat.

When you wear his shirt and it swallows your smaller frame? It turns him on more than he lets on.

When you moan his name and gasp and writhe in pleasure. When you beg for him to take you harder, faster, and deeper. It just about short-circuits his brain.

N: No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any form of bondage or restrictions to his movement. It brings up unnecessary trauma and makes him feel that he's not in control or safe. He is mostly a switch, sure, letting you take control and dominate too, but tying him up is just a no-go for him.

He won't transform into a wolf. It's practically bestiality, which he's not down for.

Somnophilia or any other act where consent can be dubious. He's just big on consent and trust, for obvious reasons.

O: Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves having absolute control over your pleasure, knowing it's him coaxing the sighs and moans and screams out of you. He enjoys how easily he can make you cum and drive you mad.

That said, he also loves watching you pleasure him, taking as much of his hard length as you can, especially whenever you greedily swallow his load.

P: Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends. Sex can be whatever it needs to be in the moment. While he loves nothing more than to take his time and make sweet love to you, he also loves ravaging you and leaving you utterly spent. It's satisfying either way.

The usual case is he begins slowly and sensually, but by the end of it (and sometimes without warning), he's rutting into you like his life depends on it.

Q: Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn't above having a quickie if that is all time permits, but he would really much rather have his way with you properly!

R: Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Given that he's a dhampir, he knows exactly how to go unseen or unnoticed. It's likely his risk assessment is much more honed. You might think you're being risky, but he is well aware of the chances of you getting caught in the act.

As for experimenting—other than his hard reservations (the ones listed in N), he is game to experiment and try different things you may be curious about as long as you both feel safe and comfortable about them.

S: Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a dhampir... need I say more? The chances of you exhausting him first is little. Sorry to burst your bubble. 😆 He's got stamina for days, honey.

T: Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Alucard is not above using toys to pleasure you. But what can a toy do that he can't do better? Hah. Chances are he will attempt to learn how it pleases you and try to replicate that with his own cock, mouth, and hands.

U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can be such a little tease. You know the way he banters. That snark and sass can sometimes make their way inside the bedroom too.

"What was that, darling?" he'd ask, as if his amazing sense of hearing wasn't enough to register your begging as he edges you for the nth time. "Tsk. Patience, my love..." he would even dare chide you!

Alucard also loves to glide his fangs over your skin, just enough to leave a faint mark but not enough to draw blood.

V: Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not shy to let you know he’s having a good time, but he’s also not overly loud. He gasps, moans, and curses, a tight-lipped “Fuck!” slipping out once in a while.

W: Wild card (a random headcanon)

He loves to praise you. His way of talking dirty is to let you know how good you feel around him. How ethereal you are, how perfect for him, how you taste so sweet.

He encourages you as he pushes you over the limit. “Yes, yes, darling, you can take it. Cum for me,” he would say. He’d place a kiss on your open mouth as you convulse around him as he rips yet another orgasm out of you. “My sweet darling,” he would groan, wiping the sweat off your brow. “How perfect you are. Good girl.” And just like that, he’s about to do it all over again. RIP. 😫

X: X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s active and it shows. He’s well built without being overly bulky. It suits him—muscular/toned yet elegant and lean.

He’s packing a just-about-above average penis, but nothing you cannot handle. The man’s over six foot, it just fits.

Y: Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Alucard is the type to yearn and pine, so set the volume level up cause he cannot get enough of you. Enough said.

Z: Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sometimes you drift off to sleep together, but you usually fall asleep first.

He’s a night owl. He’d take you in his arms and stroke your hair as you sleep, admiring the way you glow under the moonlight, and wonder how he got so lucky to have found you. 🤍🌙

[mattyssluttt]

Bad Idea!

Summary~Matt and y/n broke up nearly a year ago but it was a mutal break up as they knew they were toxic,what happens when y/n accidentally sent matt a few pictures on accident.

I softly hummed to the music that echoed through my room as i scrolled through the pictures in my camera roll,the nude ones,the non nude ones.

A messages appeared from the guy ive been speaking to.

I swiped onto my snapchat going into my eyes only,tapping the passcode into choosing my best photo and went back on to message typing up matt and pressing the first one.

Ping!!

My heart dropped slightly,why was matt texting me not the coffee matt, matt matt my ex.

I slowly pressed onto his message.

Shit..

My heart beat rapidly beated,my heart felt like it was in my throat.

What?

What the fuck!

I clutched onto my phone,my thumb grazing over the keyboard before texting back letting out a shaky sigh.

I threw my phone across my room,panic rushing through my body what have i gotten myself into. A simple ‘no im so sorry wrong person’ or ‘block’ could of been fine.. But no! Fuck fuck fuck. I jumped out of my bed throwing on some makeup,quickly ripping off my sweat pants and the oversized tshirt changing it to a lace lounge set so i didnt look a mess.

I let out a sigh of relief hearing my door bell go off my heart sank,i sprayed my perfume running around my room throwing stuff in my wardrobe to make my room look clean before rushing down stairs looking at my door before pulling it open.

“hi-”

I got cut off with matt pushing me against my wall slamming the door close smashing his pink plumbed lips against mine,fuck how i have missed this,his cold slender hands trailed down to my hips giving them a tight squeeze before turning us around to my couch pushing me onto it as he dangled over me his chain following swiping across my skin as our bodies moved in sync.

His swollen lips moved to my jaw giving to a soft peck then down to my neck,nibbling my sweet spot earing a breathy moan from me,sucking on my sweet spot making marks along my skin.

‘oh-oh matt’

He chuckled against my skin,the warm feeling of his breath hitting my skin made my breath hitch,a whine made its way out of mouth of desperation.

‘I know pretty girl hold on for me’

The urge of needing him became desperate, louder whine made its way out again,his index finger placed onto my lips as he shushed me.

His cold fingers grazed over my clothed clit as they traveled up to the waist band on my shorts pulling them allowing them to snap against my skin earning a wince from me,he tugged on my shorts with desperation,i lifted my hips up helping him as he slid my shorts off throwing them somewhere in my living room.

The pad of his thumb connected to my clit rubbing the bud softly while he slipped his index and middle finger into my leaking hole thrusting them in and out,curling them to my g-stop.

‘nghh-hh fuc—fuck fuck matt’

My legs shook as the knot formed in my stomach,i arched my back off the sofa unable to process the pleasure rushing through my body,i felt close as my legs shook harshly and the knot wanting to snap.

‘ima cu-cum..matt! nghh fuck’

He fucked me with his fingers harder leaning over to my face kissing me,slipping his tongue into my mouth exploring it,the knot snapped as i squirted all over his fingers i felt him smirk against my swollen lips as he leaned down to my wet cunt,his tongue licked a strip under agaisnt my pussy earning a hiss from me from feeling senstive.

‘so pretty..teasing me with your nudes hm?’

Words were unable to form from the amount of pleasure i just felt and the tiredness swarming over me,fuck..

Not fucking for ages really did have an effect on me,i was never this tired after we used to have sex my breathing was heavy,sweat trickled down my forehead as my hair was stuck onto it; a hand swept away the sweaty hair making me sigh.

‘mm stay here pretty girl’

I felt where his presence was once there disappear then come back,he had a towel in his hand wiping up my juices off me and the couch while i sat up he got up finding my shorts for me; helping me get them back on due to the weakness in my below part of my body.

He picked me up carrying me to my bed placing me on the bed,i pulled my covers up tucking myself under the quilts whilst he was shuffling around but i didnt know what with since i had my eyes closed,too lazy to even open them,i felt the bed dip next to me shirtless matt snaking his arm around my waist pulling me into him as his kisses my temple softly moving to turn my bedside lamp over so he wouldng move me too much then went back into his original place snuggling me,mumbling the words.

I love you..

As we both drifted off.

First fic since ages ago😝😝😝

ik this wasnt rlly good sorryy❤️

[anonymous-rendezvous]

He Comforts You - Ike 💙

Ike Eveland x GN!Reader

✦ — Written by Mod I ✨. Beta Read and Edited by Mod S 👿.

✧ — Comfort & Care Masterlist | 💙 You comfort him

✦ — Contains: Established Relationship, fluff, & comfort

✧ — Word count: 446 | Ao3

Snippets of time showing how you and your partner care for each other.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

If you could only choose one word to describe how you were feeling after your day at work, it would be 'done'. Not only had your boss called out today, but they had also left you with the amount of work that would normally need three people to complete. Which meant you had to stay long after your shift had already ended. And you wouldn't even be paid more for it. You'd quit in a heartbeat if you could afford it.

You were all but stumbling as you entered your home. The door shutting behind you with a little more force than intended as you leaned your weight back against it. You don’t even have the energy to lean down to properly remove your shoes; toeing them off and leaving them haphazardly in front of the door. However, you don’t get even two steps further into the house before Ike emerges from the hallway. His expression softens at the sight of you, giving you a sincere smile. “Welcome home, darling.” You return his smile, albeit yours being a tired one.

He’s by your side in no time, taking your hand in his. The novelist starts leading you down the hallway and before you can even ask where you're going; he pushes the bathroom door open. The soothing smell of eucalyptus and spearmint fill the room thanks to the candles he’d lit beforehand; giving the room a soft glow. The tub was filled, and you eyed it longingly, no doubt that the water was still warm. Your attention is drawn back to your loving boyfriend as a hand lightly rests on the small of your back, the warmth radiating through your clothes “Come on darling, let's get you in, shall we?” His hand glides up to help slip off your jacket. “I have the kettle on if you want a cup of tea while you soak.”

“Ike you didn’t have to do all this–”

He silences you with a gentle peck to your lips, “You’ve had such a rough day hun, just let me treat you.” He helps remove the rest of your clothes before helping you into the tub. As you sink further into the warm water, you can’t help but release a sigh of contentment. He chuckles affectionately, kneeling beside the tub so he can brush aside a few stray strands of hair before placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back with your tea in a moment. Take as long in the tub as you need.”

Just before he leaves the room, you call out to him. He pauses with a questioning hum. “Thank you, Ike. I seriously appreciate it.”

“Of course, my dear.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Likes are nice and we do appreciate them. However, comments/feedback is what really motivates us to continue writing. Even just a keyboard smash or emojis are a joy to see!

We do not allow our stories to be translated or reposted/shared anywhere. The only places our stories should be found are on Ao3 or Tumblr. Nowhere else.

[jalapenobee]

"Are we there yet?"

Hunk uses his shotgun position to pelt him with tiny rocks he collected beforehand, the pebbles aimed straight for Lance's eyes. And mouth. "Oh my God, no, we are not there yet!"

The teen in question smirked mischievously, attempting to duck away from Hunk's attacks (unsuccessfully). He cowered behind Pidge, who was currently enraptured by a video game (which, if he may add, hasn't even come out yet. They probably got it off the black market.) and didn't appreciate the sudden jostling. They shoved Lance back in his seat, earning a wet sock to the face and a press of the power off button on their computer. The sock in turn was flung back at Lance, and The Great Car War V had started. Keith lifted his head off of his fist and shouted up to the driver. "Oi. Can't I drive?"

Shiro shook his head and snickered. "No chance. Last time you drove you got pulled over twice and nearly committed a hit-and-run. I think that says enough. Besides, you took all the M&M's out of the trail mix again when I specifically told you not to."

"I said I was sorry!" He wasn't. And besides, isn't it general code to do something someone else explicitly told you not to?

"Suck it, Keith. I'm just a more experienced driver."

"Oh, so now you wanna admit you're old."

"Okay-"

"Isn't he the youngest? He's like, six," Pidge chirped from the floor of the car. Lance had his foot on top of them and was spamming their blank screen with random keyboard smashes as Hunk started throwing larger rocks. "Leggo of that!"

Shiro, regretfully, took a look in the rear view mirror. "Pidge, put on your fucking seatbelt or so help me God-"

Hunk snickered. "Oooh, you're in trouble, Pidgeon."

"You wanna switch spots with Keith?"

"..." Hunk sighed and slumped back in his chair after throwing one last rock at Pidge (he'd love to keep going, but being in the front means he can harm and not be harmed. That's not something to give up.)

"Ow! Shiro, make Pidge stop biting me!"

It was gonna be a long ride.

Two hours later, Pidge was sleeping and Lance was…well, not looking at Keith. Who, in question, was looking out the window. Lance prided himself on being in the middle; he was just out of reach of the sun's grasp while Keith was its indifferent victim. It was the perfect place to take a nap without waking up to a burning smell that you'd quickly realize was you.

Or maybe not indifferent. Lance didn't watch as Keith bent down to rummage through his duffel bag to pull out a small hairband. He definitely didn't watch as Keith tied up his hair, and absolutely didn't notice how…y'know what, maybe Lance should stop thinking about it and focus on his chess game. He was losing to AI, by the way. Completely Keith's fault.

He also didn't gawk at Keith's exposed neck, and didn't take note of how he looked so much more…uh, OLD. Yeah, not mature or handsome or anything. Just plain old. The thin sheen of sweat on Keith's forehead that should've been gross was still gross. It didn't make Keith look like a shining angel or whatever.

Later, Lance would tease him for it. For now…a nap would suffice. He shifted so that his back was to Keith and started to doze off. Hunk was the one driving now, and he took a sharp left onto the highway, causing everyone to slide to the right.

Lance fell asleep soon after, slightly pissed at himself for not moving off of Keith's shoulder.

[m1lkt00th]

[ID: Drawing of Outer and Swap with their foreheads resting against each other bearing content expressions. Outer has their hand on Swap’s cheek. The background is a solid white. /End ID.]

midnight doodle i just did bc im still getting used to drawing on my ipad again

so of course i drew these two (theyre taking over my brain) in their downtime they probably sit in silence and hold each other and (keyboard smash)

and i HAVE to make outer the prettiest guy here

[niffala]

My Tumblr User Awards

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These are great to see, and writers feel honored to be on them. Makes them feel warm and fuzzy. These take time and effort to make and are a great way to share blogs and stories. They are also a great resource to help other user's discover new writers.

*Don't forget to follow writing blogs and respect their blog rules. These are only my personal opinions on Tumblr user engagement. Many writers feel differently, and they have every right to block you if you do not respect their blog's guidelines.

[searchingforbucky]

Just wanna saw I love you and your devotion to long comments on fics 🫶🏻 I wanna give you a little forehead smooch and tuck you in so pretend that is what is happening rn

- @daycourtofficial ❤️❤️❤️

Hi honey!! I am accepting this forehead smooch and the tucking in with open arms right now 🥰. That’s super sweet of you to say though, I appreciate you and all authors so much. You guys are soooooo talented, and sooooooo amazing to share those talents with us. I think people forget that you guys are doing this for free, and for fun, and we need to make sure that thanks and appreciation is shown in droves. Half the time it’s just me keyboard smashing and crying, but hey, it’s the least I could do to share my love of them with you all!!!! 💓😘💓 @daycourtofficial

[hellhoundmaggie]

Fun facts about Clone Trooper Dice

My husband is talking about running a Star Wars: Saga Edition TTRPG campaign, and I was so Bad Batch-brained I just had to make a rogue clone PC

I named him Dice because he’s a TTRPG character

In-universe his brothers named him Dice ironically because he always loses at dice games

His official designation, CT-4287, is a keyboard smash

He’s got two tattoos on either side of his forehead: a 6-sided die showing 1 pip on the left, a die showing 6 pips on the right

During the Clone Wars he wore a quiff haircut. Afterwards he grew it out and started putting it in a man bun

In the SWSE system Dice is a lvl 1 Human Soldier — probably gonna multi-class into Scout or Scoundrel and go for a Prestige class. Likely Bounty Hunter or Gunslinger, but it'll depend on party comp

I used Point Buy to give him above-average attributes in everything but Charisma. Dice officially has no rizz

I plan to have him pick up Stealth, but never the Deception skill. Clones are consistently bad at lying in the canon and Dice will maintain that tradition

But I gave him Mechanics and Use Computer so he can be the technology guy. Maybe he'll pick up Piloting too. Again, party comp

Dice is a relatively inexperienced soldier — only been on one or two serious campaigns before Order 66

Dice knows the clones got a raw deal from the Republic, but he blames the Senate for that, not the Jedi or the ordinary citizens

He still saw it as his duty to protect the citizens from the consequences of the war, and respected the Jedi for doing their best to lead with compassion under the circumstances

He served under my friend’s Jedi PC (as yet unnamed) and trusts her implicitly.

Husband is talking about running a Clone Wars solo adventure for Dice and I am excited to see how that goes!

Anyway, Dice’s inhibitor chip malfunctioned when Order 66 came down. He managed to not only resist the urge to kill Jedi PC, but also to help her escape the Purge

Now they’re on the run from the Empire together

Even though he had to kill a bunch of them helping Jedi PC escape, Dice still loves his brothers. But as far as he knows he’s the only clone who isn’t loyal to the Empire, so he hasn’t reached out to any of them

The inhibitor chip hasn’t failed completely. Sometimes Dice feels the urge to Follow Orders like a Good Soldier and kill Jedi PC

He hasn’t told Jedi PC because 1) he doesn't want to admit weakness and 2) he’s afraid she’ll abandon him

Dice wants Jedi PC to rely on him because he relies so much on her. She's the closest thing to family he has now that he's deserted

Plus he trusts her Force powers

Dice has no idea inhibitor chips exist. As far as he knows there is no cure for the urge to Follow Orders and he'll just have to manage until the day he or Jedi PC dies

So he's turned to drinking in secret to control it

Dice drank excessively before Order 66, but only when he was partying with his brothers. It was something he did to fit in, not an everyday coping mechanism

Dice started out drinking at cantinas, but that got expensive and money’s tight. After a while he built a still and put it behind a hidden panel next to his bunk in the party's ship

The urge mostly comes at night -- or what passes for night in space -- when there's less to think about. So Dice pops open the panel and fills his cup from the still

That's how he falls asleep most of the time. Lately he's needed to drink more just to manage that. But it's fine, he'll handle it (it's not fine, he's not going to handle it)

On a lighter note, Dice enjoys sweets, tinkering, arguing about machines, and sitting in companionable silence

[izunias-meme-hole]

Ganondorf for the Send Me A Character thing

First impression: Oh this green armored dude in Smash looks cool. I wonder where he’s from?

Impression now: All hail the greatest villain of all time *kisses his bigass forehead*

Favorite moment: Honestly this is a difficult one, but it’s between him punching Queen Sonia in the spine and doing the troll face, the actual final fight against him in TOTK, him playing his own theme on the organ in OOT before his boss fight, the final fight against him in Wind Waker, his reluctant alliance with Link and Zelda in Subspace Emissary, his acquisition of the full Triforce in Hyrule Warriors, and the final fight against him in Twilight Princess.

Idea for a story: I would love to see a trilogy game where Ganondorf is an uneasy ally of Link and Zelda at first, and then in the end he becomes the final boss of the entire trilogy.

Unpopular opinion: I dunno if this is unpopular, but I think Ganondorf should remain an unsympathetic villain. Even if he’s used sparingly, even if you want to make him tragic, even if you want to make him a near-omnipresent threat, PLEASE keep him as the type of villain you genuinely WANT to stab in the skull.

Favorite relationship: His dynamic with Zelda is interesting in each game because he actually sees her as an obstacle, but his constant underestimation of Link makes it so much more satisfying when this green gremlin manages to make the almighty King of Evil go from being calm and smug to sounding like he’s minutes away from smashing his keyboard.

Favorite headcanon: Ganondorf, in all of his lives, ironically wasn’t a spoiled brat as a kid, he legit had to EARN stuff and prove that he was a “worthy” king. He had to earn his people’s trust, build up his strength, increase his knowledge of magic, and once he managed to prove himself a “worthy” king, his ambitions went from “I want to provide for my people as a true king” to just “As a king, I need to extend my reach across the land, increase my power, and flex my power.”

[justaduckarts]

i was in the middle of reading a glimpse of us before ao3 went down maintenance this morning, but i just wanted to say i love your take on the boys!!! and you write such compelling side characters; avery my beloved in both GOU and DLNS 🥺🥺

me 🤝 them

special interest in animatronics

i can't wait to finish GOU when ao3 is back up!!! DLNS is also so very good, i really love how your write all the animatronics interacting with each other backstage and away from guests!! i do haunt work in real life, and the way you write springtrap being chill and dad coded is very similar to a lot of the people i know who otherwise love to terrorize guests 😂

Noooo I am so sorry that AO3 went down right when you were reading! ;w; That's the worst! But thank you so much! I love writing the funky boys so much! And buirfbnewkp I'M GLAD YOU LIKE MY FUNKY SIDE CHARACTERS THANK YOU!

Avery our beloved <3 <3 <3

Oooh! I hope you enjoy the ending! I still can't believe I have a whole finished fic under my belt- I feel like WIPs are kind of taking over my life ha! Also!! I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKE DLNS!!! I love love LOVE writing the animatronics, they are all my children and I give them all forehead kisses (especially PB). You do hauntwork? That's so cool! I've actually never worked a haunt, but I love hearing stories from people who have! I really want to work one someday. <3 Springtrap definitely has that dad vibe, right? I love him. I'm glad the people you work with at the haunt are chill!

Again, thanks so much for reading! And for this ask AAAAAAAAAAAAa I love knowing people are enjoying my work ;w; I feel so full and so frioefhbj; HONORED honestly. Okay, I can only smash the keyboard so much before it breaks. Thank you one last time! <3 <3 <3

[rynnicol]

I went to college with one of the men in this picture. We were friends. We would go to dinner at 3:00 am. I helped with his school projects. He’d tease me about watching sci-fi shows like Babylon 5 and Star Trek. I set him up with my roommate. He had a crush on her, so I helped my friend. They ended up dating for years.

One night he and I were at school in the edit bays. I had been calling him for hours trying to tell him his computer had crashed and wasn’t rendering. He was stressed about completing his thesis and decided the computer crash was somehow my fault when he finally showed up. While I was preparing a machine to help him, he came up behind me and slammed my head into the desk and keyboard repeatedly. I collapsed on the floor, and he started kicking me. At one point he grabbed my hair to slam my head against the wall then bent down to yell in my face. I have a vague memory of staring up at the window of the door in the tiny room as a silhouette watched. A freshman finally opened the door distracting my attacker long enough for me to crawl away.

I crawled to the room where my best friend was editing a film at the other end of the hall. I told him what had happened and to this day I’ll never forget his response, “He’s stressed. You must have misunderstood.” I wiped away what I thought was sweat from my brow and told him, I don’t think I did. Not one time did my friend look away from the computer. He kept explaining how I had to consider the pressure this man was under. I sat there on the floor crying until I looked at my hands and saw that I’d been wiping away blood. I looked out the window for the edit bay door and saw the freshman who had saved me. He indicated it was safe to come out.

I dashed down the hall to the bathroom terrified I would be attacked again. I didn’t think I could take my head being smashed into a sink. I cleaned up the blood and held a stack of paper towels to my head. I didn’t feel safe, so I took the side entrance outside and walked home. I locked myself in my apartment bathroom and sat in the shower for I don’t know how long.

The next day, I told my roommate I didn’t want her boyfriend around. I didn’t want to be alone with him, and I didn’t want him in the apartment even when I wasn’t there. I told her this while I was sitting on a chair in our living room while holding a bag of frozen peas to my head, wondering when we had bought peas and why. She informed me she had already spoken to her boyfriend and knew we’d had a fight. She “didn’t care what had happened” but needed us to get along for her. I wanted to tell her. I felt guilty. I had set them up. Had I put her in danger? I told her I didn’t feel safe, but before I could explain she threw up her hands and repeated that she didn’t need details about the “fight.” We just needed to work it out. I was having trouble breathing so I told her she should care then threw the peas back in the freezer and took off for the campus clinic. I felt guilty for years for not telling her.

The campus clinic looked at the bruises on my chest and back and told me I should get x-rays at the hospital for any fractures. No one asked how I got the bruises. They put a band aid on my head and told me to keep ice on the lump that had formed on the back of my head. Then made an appointment for me at the hospital which I had to walk to days later. I had hairline fractures on three ribs.

As I stood outside the campus clinic, I remembered there were cameras in the school’s hallways that would have recorded me crawling away from the attack and walking to the bathroom with blood dripping down my forehead. I could show my roommate what had happened. Then she might care. I headed to the campus safety office to ask about the tapes. The officer I had known for two years. He liked to attend parties with the graduate students, he smiled at me while informing me that he was on duty the night before, but the tapes were gone now. I didn’t understand then what he was saying. I didn’t know at the time he had stolen the tapes to protect my attacker.

I walked to the school and visited the vice dean, to report the attack. He informed me that he felt supporting my attacker and burying this incident was a better financial investment for the school. My attacker was going to elevate their name. The vice dean asked if my scholarships went away then would I still be able to attend school? He then began a months long effort lasting well into the summer to have my scholarships rescinded. When other faculty asked why he was after me his excuse was that I brought a Dr. Pepper into a classroom where drinks were not allowed. Not even a joke. The cost of the broken keyboard was taken out of my paycheck from my work-study job. The message was clear. My attacker was of more value than I.

Last night my attacker got to take part in attending the Peabody awards for the Star Trek franchise. A franchise he first watched in my living room after mocking me for watching the show, but he tells everyone that he watched it as a child. He repeats a story I told him about my mother seeing Nichelle Nichols for the first time. My first memory in life is of my parents racing to watch a rerun of the original series. So not only did this man break my ribs, he’s taken a dump on my childhood. I’ve been quiet for nearly 25 years, actively disappearing, changing my name, and moving away, while this man has had opportunity after opportunity handed to him. I know he thinks he put in more effort than others not seeing how many people put him where he is today. Karma might keep receipts, but she certainly doesn’t perform audits.

[itsgrimeytime]

Home is Where the Heart is (Part Nine) || Farmer!Rick Grimes (TWD) x Teacher!GN!reader AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8...

Taglist: @1tsk1tty

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Like Real People Do by Hozier and Begin Again by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your life was spinning out of control, you knew that. After a string of particularly shattering events, you decided it was time to start anew. With a little help from one of your Grandma's rentals, you found yourself in the small town of Alexandria. The last thing you expected was your neighbor, Rick Grimes.

TWs: teeny bit of jealousy, making out, and just not taking care of yourself.

[[A/N: This one has me twirling my hair and kicking my feet !!! Enjoy :))]]

You were staring at your computer screen, word document blinking back at you. Your head was starting to hurt, but you needed to do this.

To be fair you'd done a lot today, catching up from your... trip from Rick's.

You'd left later that day you'd told him, and it had been maybe two days since then. He hadn't come to see you, not yet, and you figured it was because of all the work you had to do. You'd told him about it, and he'd smiled at you a little sympatheticly -pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"You'll get it done, don't worry."

You smiled a little at the thought.

Before nearly throwing your head down onto your keyboard, the only reason you didn't was because you didn't want to smash into the keys. It had been a rough two days, you'd been holed up in your house for the entire time. Eating pathetic little tv dinners, and watching your favorite show to sleep to. Which, you weren't sleeping entirely well either-

There was a knock at your door then -startling yourself out of your thoughts.

You sighed. You were still in your pajamas from this morning and your hair was still mussed, you weren't the picture of health physically or mentally. Your eyebags must have been terrible-

Still, you dragged yourself to the door -pulling it open with a little extra effort.

And there, on your front porch, was one Rick Grimes.

He stood, looking good, hair messy in a nice sort of way and clothes nearly perfect -there was a little dirt but he suited it. Always had. You frowned at yourself in comparison.

"Hey," he spoke, rather breathlessly -before his eyes flickered over your face, "-you doin' alright? 'Aven't seen ya out since the other day."

You huffed out, eyes skimming across him, "How do you do that, Grimes?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, blue eyes looking at you with concern, "Do what?"

You waved your hand at him -motioning to his entire figure, "You're covered in dirt, but you are still one of the most attractive people on the planet. Why is that?"

He laughed a little, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, "People say the beard ain't too good, if 'at helps."

"People are 100% wrong," you responded -almost on instinct.

He laughed a little, maybe even a little nervously. Blue eyes flickering over your face.

You paused, almost shrinking in on yourself, "That was too much, wasn't it?"

"No, no, never-" he soothed, hands finding their way onto your shoulders, "-just ain't used to it."

"Well," you laughed, "-that's insane, first of all. Secondly, are you sure? I haven't been sleeping well lately, and my mouth just goes on autopilot-"

"Ya 'aven't been sleeping?"

Shit.

"I have," you responded, a little in regret, "-just not more than a few hours."

Rick frowned, eyes scattering over you -particularly trailing over your eyebags, "Can I come in?"

"Oh, right, I'm sorry-" you rambled, moving some steps back, "-Yeah, of course. Come in."

He laughed a little moving into the space, facing away from you as his eyes littered over the space, "'S okay, ya don't need to apologize, baby. Your mind's everywhere I get it."

You stuttered to a stop for a moment.

Right, he called you that now.

Deep breaths, you reminded yourself, it's way too early in the relationship to have those kinds of thoughts.

You cleared your throat, slightly gathering yourself, and closed the door.

"Where are the kids?" You questioned, absent-mindedly.

Rick was over in your kitchen, hands drifting over some of the TV dinner boxes -you really hadn't been picking up. It wasn't a good past few days, to be fair.

"With 'eir Mom," he echoed, staring thoughtfully at them. And with a breath, he scooped them into the trash, "-'ey go one weekend a month."

Briefly wondering why it was so short, you refocused. You paused, a little guiltily, "You really don't have to do that, Rick. It's my mess-"

"'Is what ya been eatin'?" He questioned, ignoring your remark, assumedly.

You frowned, a little in disappointment at yourself, "Uh, yeah. I've been um... really busy the past few days."

Rick's eyes flicked up to you before he waltzed over to the desk. Looking at your word document and the slew of papers surrounding it. It was messy, and very evident of your current state of mind -sticky notes of all colors slapped on all kinds of papers, all over the screen of your computer.

It looked like chaos.

You could see him frown a moment, hand drifting over the paper -careful not to shuffle any of it, "How long ya been at it?"

"Basically the whole time," you answered, a little quieter, "-sans eating and sleeping."

Rick hummed, blue eyes peering at it all -intently. The stacks were pretty incriminating. The colorful and, somehow at its core, organized really did look like the work of a crazy person. Or maybe crazy exhausted.

"I... School starts really soon," you offered -a weak explanation.

He ignored you again, or maybe just chose not to comment, "No breaks?"

You decided to not answer that.

He looked up at you then, reading your eyes. Before decidedly frowning, roaming back up to you. You swallowed, not really certain of his prerogative.

Instead, though, he sighed a deep sigh before his hands came up to hold your face -calloused fingertips brushing against your skin.

"Ya eaten today at least?"

You nervously smiled, apologetically.

"Baby," he stressed out, concern flitted through his eyes, "-'s almost time for supper-"

Your brain hinged on the pet name again, before you shook your mind clear of it.

"I know, I know," you conceded, "-I've been trying, really-"

"How many times ya eat a day?"

You bit your lip, a little hesitant -his blue eyes stayed insistent, you were weak-willed, "Once."

Rick frowned again, before leaning forward to kiss your forehead -softly, repeating, "Don't worry, Imma take care of ya."

Something in you softened, ever so slightly. You leaned into the touch of his hands, his woodsy scent, and the warmth of his skin padding through your head.

He seemed to notice, a little smile smoothing across his face -before leaning forward to press a kiss onto your cheek (his beard left a pleasant little buzz against your skin). You smiled a little at it, and he grinned back.

Still holding you there, he hummed, "Ya want food or sleep first?"

You pursed your lips, "Well, it's already almost time to sleep for the night. So, I guess food?"

"Good idea," he lowered his hands -intertwining your hands and guiding you to the kitchen, "-ya wanna help?"

You paused, halting his steps. He spun around to meet your eyes -curiosity sparking in the blues of his irises. You pursed your lips, smiling apologetically.

"Hate to break it to you, loverboy," you laughed a little nervously, "-but there's nothing in there."

He waited a moment, disconnecting your hands and fully facing you. Eyes heavily trained on you, you had the spare thought that you could write poems about them. Something about being lost at sea, probably.

"Nothin'?"

You smiled again, the same sort of way.

Rick's eyes flickered over you a moment, before seeming to settle something in his head.

"Then," he spoke -decided like you couldn't disagree, "-'s go to the store."

"Rick," you tried, "-you don't have to-"

Before you could finish another word, he ushered you back into your room -leaving you with a short 'Get ready.' There was frankly no reason to fight it, so with a breath you got ready. He was waiting outside of your door -smiling big and wide at you in a better state.

"Ya clean up nice, darlin'."

You rolled your eyes, not without a smile, and waltzed out the door.

Before you could go anywhere though, Rick ushered you into his house and fished out some leftovers -homemade, of course. You'd like to say it was an offering, but it really just wasn't. He stood there the whole time, chatting, but intently making sure you finished them. Not pushing you past your limit, mind you, you really were hungry and Rick was a frustratingly good cook. His hospitality (or probably his caring) really was beyond comprehension.

All that led you to now, roaming the aisles as Rick followed dutifully with the cart. His eyes never really left you, though.

"What exactly am I looking for?"

You turned to him -curiously, you found his eyes already steady on you with a sort of look that you couldn't quite name. Something fond. His arms were on full display as he leaned forward onto the handle -you were kind of struck silent as well. Literally how-

"Whatever ya what, darlin'," he answered -simply.

You don't know what it was, but you suddenly understood just what he planned. Maybe it was his tone? You weren't sure.

"Rick," you laughed a little, "-you know that I'm buying this, right?"

He hummed, "What if I want to?"

"Rick-"

Before you could finish, a woman approached the two of you -gray hair in tendrils down the sides of her face, and bright blue eyes. She smiled at Rick.

You went a little rigid.

"Rick!" she grinned out, patting his arm slightly, "-it's great to see you, what brings you here today?"

He motioned to you, deep accent peeking out, "'Just gettin' 'em some groceries."

"Oh my," the woman smiled -big and wide, moving toward you, "-is this the infamous Y/N?"

Rick laughed a little, hand coming to rub the back of his neck. Everything in you softened.

"Hi!" She greeted, wrapping you into a hug -you were a little startled, but reciprocated, "-I'm Carol, I run this place. Rick's told me a lot about you."

She spoke a little teasingly you could tell. You wondered for a second what exactly he'd said. But only for a second.

"Y/N, not that you need it apparently," you laughed, "-and all good things, I hope?"

Carol grinned -a little mischievously, "Great things."

You bit down a smile, her eyes smoothed across it a moment. Smiling somehow brighter, she stepped back, letting out a sigh.

"Well, don't let me impose anymore," she apologized, "-I've got some work to get back to. Enjoy your shopping, you two."

After she left, you gently tilted your head toward him and Rick huffed out a breath -expectant.

"You talk about me, loverboy?"

"Don't start," he warned, but he was smiling -you couldn't take him seriously.

You laughed, looking at him -pointedly, "I'll break you one day, Grimes. And then, you'll be sorry."

Rick just grinned at you, big and bright. It made your knees a little weak, you wondered how long it would. Maybe forever.

You blinked suddenly, forever?

"Anyway," you swallowed, clearing your throat, and spinning to the dairy section -a little frantically, "-do I need any of the basics, you think?"

He furrowed his eyebrows at your actions, but seemingly just wrote it off. Thank god.

"Just bread," he answered.

Your hands hovered above the milk a minute, pursing your lips, "Why n-"

"Who do ya think their local supplier is?"

Right, your mind chimed, a farmer. You debated briefly if there was something, anything really, more attractive than a man working with his hands. Down in the dirt. Sweat dripping down his brow-

Needless to say, you couldn't come up with anything.

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't buy them," you retorted.

"Baby," he replied as if it was obvious, laughing a little at you, "-I'll just give ya some."

"Rick," you leveled, looking at him in disbelief, "-you don't have to-"

"I want to," he repeated -simply, "-also wanna buy all 'is for ya."

"Seriously, I can't ask you to do both."

He pursed his lips, looking at you -thoughtfully, "Not askin' me."

"Rick."

"Just 'is one time," he nearly begged, you were a little stunned, "-if Imma take care of ya, Imma do it properly."

"I do have money, you know," you laughed a little -will weakening.

"I kno'," he confirmed, looking at you in that same type of way he always did. Something you still couldn't label. Something soft and vulnerable.

You sighed, "Fine, but I owe you one."

"No," he contradicted, "-ya don't."

"Rick, come on-"

He left the front of the cart, slowly sauntering to your side, gently placing his hands on your shoulders, "Please, let me do 'is for ya."

His eyes were set on yours, a little pleading. And once again you wondered if you could sit down and write a poem about them. You could think of a few lines now: eyes so blue I'm lost in the ocean tides, can't survive without you by my side-

You blinked, refocusing on Rick in front of you.

"Okay, okay," you surrendered, "-fine. You can do it. I'll let you."

He laughed a little at that, smile so wide, "Thank ya for bein' so kind."

You laughed too then before your eyes settled. Rick was very close to you, you could just barely feel the puffs of his breath on your skin, the thrum of his body heat, his woodsy smell that seemed to follow him around everywhere. If he just leaned a little forward-

You swallowed, clearing your throat, "Anyway, we uh... we should get going, huh? If we're going to make... um, dinner."

Rick smiled at you, a little like he thought you were adorable (and maybe like he was blinking the the same sort of haze out of his eyes), "Yeah, 's go."

By the time you got back home, it was already dark out -the orange tones of the sunset long gone. Rick mostly brought in the bags, not because you didn't want to, but because he was Rick. And maybe you didn't mind watching him flex his muscle a bit, but he didn't have to know that-

"Where do you want to start?" You looked down and around at all the bags that littered your kitchen floor. It was a small kitchen, yeah, but still. It was a lot.

You'd tried to convince Rick you didn't need all of this stuff, you wouldn't cook it. But all he said was: "Invite me over, I'll cook for ya."

"'S your house," he teased, before crouching -eyes slinking over all of them, thoughtfully.

"Ha ha," you deadpanned, leaning down to put one of them up (bread) and placing it on the counter, "-see if I ask for your help again, Grimes."

Rick looked up at you grinning, and something shot straight to your toes. You gnawed at your lip for a moment, before turning your attention back to the bags (you ignored the chuckle you could hear rumble through his chest).

"Frozen first," you decided -abruptly, "-that good?"

"Sounds good to me," he smiled, standing back up.

With a breath, you gathered what you could and placed them along the counter; Rick stood by the fridge, so he'd have to put them in. You preferred not to shuffle into his side in the tiny little space there was, even though it was very tempting.

The worst part was probably constantly feeling his eyes on you -steady and consistent. You weren't sure how he was even getting anything done with how much his eyes bored into your side. It was making your head swirl a little, and then... back in the grocery store-

You needed to clear your head.

You cleared your throat, "Hey, Rick? I'm going to um, step outside a minute. Need some air."

He looked at you, concern flickering through his face, "Everythin' alright?"

"What, yeah," you laughed -awkwardly, "-What wouldn't be... right?"

Rick stopped in his tracks a moment, blue eyes flickering over your face. Before he decidedly started crossing over bags to get to you. Your feet stayed steeled in place, and despite your wish to, you weren't moving an inch. You briefly wondered how he could tell, but then again, you were a terrible liar.

"What's wrong?"

He asked it so genuinely, eyebrows pulled down and blue eyes so concerned. You were done for from the start.

"You-" you rambled, words slipping out of your mouth, "-Were you going to kiss me? Back in the grocery store? If not, that's fine but I just thought, maybe... Well, I assumed, really-"

Rick laughed a little bit -rumbling through his chest, mindlessly moving his hand to tilt your face up. His eyes locked onto yours a moment, and you felt the words falter to a stop.

He smiled at it, blue eyes briefly dipping to watch your mouth stop. It made your heart leap into your throat.

"Did ya want me to kiss ya in the grocery store?" He questioned, a lilt of teasing in his voice, but something else ever-so-serious.

You swallowed, breath hollow in your chest -only thing capable of coming out of your mouth was a whisper, "I, um... Not there."

"Can't 'ear ya, baby," he hummed out, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

"I didn't," you spoke up, a little breathlessly, "-not... not there."

"And what about 'ere?"

"Where?"

"In your kitchen," he clarified, smiling but something in his gaze much more direct, "-Do ya want me to kiss you 'ere?"

It slipped out of your mouth, before you could stop it, "Do you really need to ask that?"

Rick laughed, something in his eyes softening, "You're unbelievable, ya know 'at?"

"In a good way?"

Something in his eyes twinkled, "A great way."

There was a breath then, laughter dissipating through the air. All it left was you and Rick, and the crook of his finger under your chin -guiding you to his eyes.

"Rick?" You questioned -a little distracted.

"Yeah?" He offered, seemingly very the same.

You inhaled a breath, all woodsy and all Rick, "Kiss me."

He stared at you for a moment longer, like he was taking you in, and then he ducked his head to meet yours.

It was a slow kiss, sweet really. The tingle of his beard against your skin scratched for just a second, but then you thought the positives outweighed the negatives. He was practiced, slowly parting his lips for long, languid kisses that sent sparks into your stomach.

Your hands mindlessly moved to wrap around his neck -fingers intertwining with his hair. He let out the teeniest little noise at that and it made your heart leap into your throat. Still, your fingers stayed, and you heard the noise grumble through his chest again. It made your brain turn a little fuzzy, and even more so when his hands fell to your waist.

Every separation, he'd just pull you back -after one mere breath. A little like he couldn't stop. To be fair, you were sure you could either. Just kiss, after kiss, after kiss, after kiss.

Your brain was melted in your head, all you could think about was Rick and his lips and his tongue swirling around yours -still so slow. Like he was treasuring you. Taking care of you, if you will.

"Rick," you breathed out, pulling back -laughing a little, "-I'm starting to get dizzy."

"I'll hold ya up," he offered before pressing his lips to yours again -taking the words right out of your mouth.

You laughed a little, and so did he -making it all teeth. But you didn't really mind.

Finally, he pulled back -blue eyes lazily settling on you. His lips were a little bruised red, and you imagined yours were too.

"It's not fair, loverboy," you patted his chest -stepping back slightly, but his hands on your waist kept you in place.

"What?"

"You cannot be a good kisser too," you remarked, "-that's not fair to anybody else."

He laughed again, head tilting up, but you could see a bit of red on the tips of his ears, "Ya must really think I'm attractive, huh?"

"What," you asked, twirling your fingers into some loose curls in front of his ears, "-you think I'm lying?"

"I'm just... hesitant to believe ya."

"Humble too," you teased, gently pushing the curl behind his ear, "-How are you even real? Am I dreaming?"

"'Could be," he grinned at you, "-I'd 'ave to be dreamin' too, though."

"Why?"

"'Cause you're somethin' I'd only get in my dreams," he complimented, so genuinely it made your head spin.

"Hate to break it to you, Grimes," you hummed, hands coming up to lay on his beard -almost fidgeting with it, "-but I am, tragicly, very real."

"Not tragic," he mended, quickly -almost on instinct, "-Amazin', wonderful even."

You smiled at him, something warm bubbling up in your chest before looking down at the bags. You sighed out, but did not move an inch.

"We really gotta put this stuff away."

He hummed, not moving either, "Do we?"

"Yes," you laughed a little, "-I can't just have these on my floor. Plus, we didn't even get all the frozen stuff put away."

Rick sighed, gently taking your face in his hands -kissing you once solidly, "'S get to it, then."

It was a quick process when you weren't... distracted. And by the time you were done, it was very much past dinner time.

You yawned, and he carefully watched the movement.

"Ya tired?"

"Very," you answered, wiping at your eyes.

He seemed to pause for a moment, before gently intertwining your hands, "Wanna go to mine?"

"I thought-" you started, blinking the sleep out of your eyes.

"Ya sleep better wit' me anyways," he hummed, trying to convince you, "-Plus, I can't stay 'ere, kids are coming home tomorrow."

"Do I need to grab pajamas?"

"Nah," he smiled, pulling you into his side, "-ya can wear some of mine. Like ya in 'em anyway."

You laughed, as he brought you to his house. Taking you all the way to the bed, his bed, guiding you a little like a lighthouse. There was something poetic in that, ocean blue eyes and guiding you like a lighthouse. You were too tired to think of it.

And as you laid your head on his chest, hearing the thump of his heartbeat and thrum of body heat under his skin, you thought to yourself that this might just be the best sleep of your life.

Absentmindedly, his arm tightened you into his side.

Yeah, you decided, I have very high hopes.

[cherries-or-peaches]

Thx for the tag, i’m taking either your posters or your keyboard hehe

some the movie posters included (but not all of them) are fear in the night (1947), deathwatch (1965), female trouble (1974), and night of the hunter (1955.)

2. the back is from a guitar that my older brother smashed when he was younger and decided to draw on it

3. honestly jerry harrison is not talked about enough, his solo stuff is probably one of my favs in terms of stuff the talking heads guys did outside of the main band

4. it’s really cool to use especially at midnight

5. i didnt even put the hole in the skull on purpose. I accidentally dropped it while getting out of bed one time.

6. i have most of my drawing books from since i was 10-ish

7. and the tsf lyrics is from my copy of the record

ok the post was getting way too long so i'm. just gonna start anew.

thank u so much @crazymadredfox for tagging me!! this is such a cute idea!! i stole ur meowth plush btw!! >:3

tagging; @roseofcards90 @sai-my-beloved @asagiri-fushimi-natsu @laveindrz @beddhead-red @megacarapa @bernkastel-ao3 @boy-yuri @icarianiscariot @trashcan-train and literally anyone who wants!!!

[anonymous-rendezvous]

He Comforts You - Vox ❤️

Vox Akuma x GN!Reader

✦ — Written by Mod I ✨. Beta Read and Edited by Mod S 👿. ⏌

✧ — Comfort & Care Masterlist | ❤️ You comfort him

✦ — Contains: Established Relationship, fluff, & comfort

✧ — Word count: 453 | Ao3

Snippets of time showing how you and your partner care for each other.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The door shuts softly behind you, your exhausted body leaning back against it as you let out a drawn-out breath. You remain like that for a few minutes before mustering the strength to pull out your phone to check the time. From what you remember, Vox should still be streaming now. Your hand drops back down and you let out another tired breath. Using what little strength you have left, you kick off your shoes and stumble your way toward the bedroom. Not bothering with the lights, or even closing the door, you collapse face-first onto the bed with a light ‘thump’.

It’s a while before you hear a door open deeper in the house. Your ears pick up footsteps approaching the bedroom, yet you don’t have the physical strength to sit up. The steps paused at the door before proceeding further into the room. Feeling the bed dip beside you, a hand is lightly placed on your back, its warmth silently asking if you are comfortable being touched. In response, you turn your head and bury it into his thigh. His hand slowly starts making soothing circles over your back.

“It’s been a long day, hasn’t it, love? I'm sorry I wasn’t there to greet you when you arrived home.”

Shaking your head, your words come out muffled against his clothed thigh, “It’s okay, you were still streaming.”

The demon's only response is a hum. The two of you stay like this for a little while before he pats your back, shifting to get off the bed. You whine as you lose the warmth of his body. However, he’s quick to soothe you with a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back, love. Let me just grab a few things.”

By the time he returns, he can't help but chuckle affectionately as you've made yourself into a blanket cocoon. He reclaims his spot on the bed, setting down a mug of your favorite tea on the nightstand. "I'm back darling," he runs a hand along your blanket-covered back "Do you think you can re-emerge long enough to eat and drink a bit?"

You remain still for a moment before shuffling far enough for your head to peek out of the blankets. You still look thoroughly exhausted and your hair's been mushed from being beneath the blankets, yet Vox smiles so softly down at you. The pink in his eyes is apparent as he speaks in almost a whisper, "There's my sweet thing." He brushes your hair back as you sit up enough to take the plate from him. Yet he refuses to let the plate go, gently scolding you "Ah ah ah – let me take care of you, okay my love?"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Likes are nice and we do appreciate them. However, comments/feedback is what really motivates us to continue writing. Even just a keyboard smash or emojis are a joy to see!

We do not allow our stories to be translated or reposted/shared anywhere. The only places our stories should be found are on Ao3 or Tumblr. Nowhere else.

[watchmegetobsessed]

WILDEST FANTASIES (part 1)

⚫️A/N: alright, i couldn't hold myself back any longer so HERE IT IS!!! i am so stoked for this story, i can't wait to read your reactions, im very nervous and excited and AHHH!!!

⚫️PAIRING: Professor!Harry X Reader

⚫️WARNING: sexual content

⚫️WORD COUNT: 6k

SERIES MASTERPOST

“Oh my God, are you still working on that assignment?”

Ramona, one of your roommates walks out of her bedroom with an empty mug and plate, her boyfriend’s hoodie is swallowing her slim figure, her hair in a not too picturesque messy bun on top of her head as she makes her way to the kitchen sink. You’re perched up on a stool at the small kitchen island, a blanket thrown over your shoulders as you stare at the practically empty document in front of you. Over the course of the last two hours you only typed your name and two whole lines out. So that’s basically nothing.

Groaning you let your head smash against the keyboard as Ramona washes her dishes.

“This is bullshit, Ram. I took this class because I thought it would be an easy few credits and I like writing, but now it’s totally kicking my ass!” you whine, sitting up and deleting the letters your forehead hit into the document. For a moment you think about leaving it there, even turning it in. It would definitely be better or at least more than what you could come up with.

Ramona dries her hands and turns to face you, folding her arms over her chest she leans against the counter chewing on her bottom lip.

“What do you have to write about, again?”

“I have to write the first chapter of the story I worked on throughout the semester. You know, the one I told you about.”

“The boy and the fish?” she cocks her head to the side.

“Yes. But it was easier to just theorize about it than to actually write it,” you sigh with a pained grimace, the empty document practically laughing at you on the screen of your laptop.

“Can’t you write about something else?”

“No, unfortunately I can’t. God, I’m regretting ever taking this class,” you growl, shutting your laptop, not able to take the mocking you’re getting from it right now.

“Oh come on, you surely don’t regret seeing Professor Sexy every week,” Ramona laughs teasing.

“Right now, I wish nasty things upon Professor Sexy,” you sigh, though the thought of him definitely chases your anger away a bit.

“I think about doing nasty things to him too,” she sighs dreamily and you gasp dramatically.

“Ramona! Does your boyfriend know you’re fantasizing about my Creative Writing professor?”

“Y/N, I’m convinced even Dean fantasizes about him!” she scoffs, making the both of us laugh.

Professor Harry Styles is definitely by far the hottest teacher on campus. But he would be the best-looking even if you took the students as well. Beside Creative Writing he teaches Language and Linguistics, International Fiction and your absolute favorite, the class women basically kill each other to get into: Women Writers.

He is nothing like the macho men in town that think they can get any woman they want. Because Professor Styles could actually get any woman he wants. With his six feet, fit figure, rocking several tattoos and probably even more under his oddly styled outfits, painted nails and many rings he sports every day, he surely has every women on campus wrapped around her fingers. Walking around you often catch conversations between girls, daydreaming about the professor and you can always relate to them, because you tend to do the same.

If any other male professor were to teach Women Writers, females in school would be rioting against it, but not when it comes to Professor Styles. The man is basically part of the females which kind of just adds to his unbearable sex appeal. You didn’t exclusively decide to take one of his classes just to stare at him for one and a half hours every week, but it’s definitely a plus.

“Alright, what do you have so far?” Ramona asks, grabbing a pack of crackers from the cupboards as she leans onto the kitchen island across from you. Opening your laptop again, the screen comes to life and you clear your throat.

“In all the seas, in all the world, there has never been a land quite like the isle of Eroda. Shaped unmistakably like a frown, it is home to an all but forgotten fishing village that has had perpetual cloud cover for as long as anyone can remember.”

You stop and look at Ramona who is waiting for you to continue, but there’s nothing else. This is all you could come up with in the past two hours. Pathetic.

“Go on,” she nods, popping a cracker into her mouth but you give her a tight-lipped smile.

“This is it. This is everything I have.”

“You’ve been sitting here for hours.”

“Thanks for making me feel so good about it!” you huff, pushing the laptop away so you can lay your head onto the counter in front of you.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. Okay, so… how long should it be?”

“At least ten pages,” you breathe out desperately.

“Shit,” she sighs, putting the crackers away. “I wish I could help, but you know my imagination is on the level of a brick.”

You snort at her comment, sitting up straight again to look at her. She gives you an apologetic smile just when the front door opens and your second and last roommate strides into the apartment. Kostas has one arm full of groceries as he kicks his shoes off and changes them to his cute slippers his mother sent him all the way from Greece in a care package along with all of his favorite Greek snacks that are still taking up half of a cupboard in the kitchen, but at least he shares them with all of you.

He beams at the two of you with his usual upbeat mood, but upon seeing the two of you his smile falls.

“What’s this sourness I’m tasting in here?” he asks as he joins you at the island, setting down his bag to unload.

“Y/N is trying to write her assignment for Professor Sexy,” Ramona files him in and his head snaps around right away.

“God, I always forget you have a class with him! He is too hot, I can’t think straight when I’m near him in the cafeteria.” He grabs his veggies and puts them to his shelf in the fridge before looking back at the two of you. “Not that anything I do is straight,” he adds, making you both laugh.

“You guys are not helping me with all the sexy talk about him, it just makes me want to write the story even less,” you sigh dramatically.

“Just… offer him to suck him off for an A,” Kostas shrugs and you roll your eyes at his suggestion, not even taking him seriously, though the thought of having Professor Styles down your throat… you shouldn’t even go there right now.

“I think he’s gotten some offers like that before,” Ramona scoffs, stuffing her hands into her hoodie’s pocket.

“Definitely,” Kostas agrees as he moves to the cupboards to put the pasta and canned food he bought away. “But the real question is, has he ever accepted the offer?”

“No way,” you shake your head, pulling your laptop back in front of you, disappointed that no words magically appeared in the document in the meantime.

“But he surely got tempted at least a few times,” Ramona muses.

“Who doesn’t get tempted when they get offered oral sex?” Kostas chimes in, finishing up with his groceries before he joins you on the other stool, taking a look at what you’ve got so far, but he grimaces at the very few lines typed out.

“It’s so dirty that maybe some of our teachers have thought about having sex with us, don’t you think?” Ramona smirks coyly and you know she is thinking about her Economics professor. She is known to have a crush on the man even though he is in his late forties and has two kids and a wife.

“When is Dean coming back to town? You need to get laid,” Kostas asks her, making you laugh.

“Shut up,” she rolls her eyes. “We make up for the loss on the phone,” she then adds smirking pleased with herself.

“Oh, we all know, Honey. The walls are not that thick,” Kostas replies and that evidently shuts her up, her cheeks and ears turning red. Dean lives alone, so they are usually at his place when they want to be alone, not putting you and Kostas through the trauma of having to hear them fuck here, but you’ve also heard them on the phone the other day and it made you wonder how good of a call girl Ramona would be if she ever needs extra cash…

“I wish I could just write something else,” you sigh, changing the topic from Ramona’s sex life as you purse your lips, staring at the screen.

“Do you have something you’d want to write about?” she asks, leaning onto her elbows on the counter top.

“The easiest thing to write would be definitely a steamy story about the professor,” you breathe out, half joking, half seriously.

“Oh, like a fanfiction?” Kostas’ eyes light up at the idea. “What would it be about?”

“Mmm,” you think, fingers lingering above the keyboard before you smile up at your roommates and start typing while saying the words out loud.

“The professor sat in his leather chair behind his desk, paper piles stacked neatly on top of it, his piercing green eyes boring into me as I stood at the door in my uniform…”

“Uniform?” Ramona questions.

“You know, like a… school girl uniform. Short skirt, white shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top, knee high socks,” you add and her eyes widen.

“Oh, nasty!” Kostas laughs, but he is clearly enjoying it.

“How can I help you?” He asked, his tongue slowly running over his lips, wetting them at the sight of me as I took a few steps into the office. I made sure to sway my hips more than usually, the movement definitely caught his eyes that roamed down the length of my body.”

The document is starting to fill up with your words, even though these shouldn’t be the ones taking up your mind.

“I was hoping to talk about my grade, Professor. Do you have a moment?”

You imitate a low, sexy voice and your roommates are drinking up your words as you go along with the story.

“Come on in,” he nodded and I closed the door behind me for some privacy.

“I know the grades are decided, but I was hoping there was something I could do to earn some extra points and get an A, what do you think?”

“Depends on how far you’re willing to go for those extra points,” he hummed as I walked closer to his desk, pushing some of the papers to the side so I could sit on it, my short skirt barely covering my ass, baring the whole length of my thigh. The professor’s gaze snapped down at my leg, taking his sweet time staring at the smooth skin. When his eyes returned to mine, they were dark and filled with lust, they almost made me launch at him over the desk.

“Holy shit, Y/N, do you secretly write erotica novels?” Kostas snaps, fanning himself with his hands as you shake your head chuckling.

“I just have a wild imagination.”

“Okay, now go on, I need to know the rest,” he urges you, so you return to the document in front of you.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, Professor,” I said, running a hand down my throat and over my breasts that were pushed so tight against my shirt, the buttons were threatening to pop any moment.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say, Miss Y/L/N,” he answered, eyes following wherever my hand was going on my body. They stared as I undid the first button of my shirt, giving him an even better sight of my breasts, the red lacy bra I was wearing now peaked out from under the white fabric and I noticed a hitch in his breath as he leaned back in his seat. My eyes fluttered down to his crotch and I finally noticed the delicious bulge that was growing by the moment. He caught my wandering eyes, but didn’t say a word, just let me gawk at him as we stared at each other for a few silent moments.

“I like dangerous and risky things, Professor,” you told him, undoing another button on your shirt. At this point, you could just get rid of the whole thing, your chest was fully on display.

“For real, do you do porn behind our back?” Ramona gasps, making all three of you laugh.

“How do you think I’m paying rent?” you play along.

“Can you get me a few gigs? But only if I can choose my partner,” Kostas places a hand to your knee, most likely already fantasizing about who he wants to work with in the industry.

“Of course, of course,” you nod chuckling.

“Okay, you can’t leave us hanging. Go on!” Ramona urges and once again, you return to the document.

The professor stood from his chair, taking his time as he walked around the desk until he was standing in front of me. I was still sitting on the top, one foot on the ground, the other one hanging in the air, legs parted enough that I flashed him a peek of my matching red thong underneath my skirt. My hands were aching to get on him, but I wanted him to make the first move.

“In that case, I have a few ideas how we can settle this,” he growled lowly, one hand moving to his erection that was bursting through the seams of his pants. My mouth watered at the way he gripped himself, my pussy drenched just from the sight in front of me. I needed to be touched and it had to be by him. I was ready to give him anything he wanted from me.

“Don’t hold back on me, Professor,” I moaned, a hand moving down to between my legs to touch myself, desperate for the slightest friction, but just when I could finally help myself, he grabbed both my wrists and stepping between my legs he yanked me against him, kissing me hard, his tongue down my throat in a blink of the eyes. I could feel his cock pressed against my wet, slick pussy and—

Ramona’s phone starts buzzing in her pocket and it snaps all three of us out of my fantasy.

“Oh, it’s Dean. I have to take this,” she breathes out holding up the phone in her hands. “And I’m totally not gonna get him to do phone sex with me after what you just planted into my head,” she chuckles as she heads towards her bedroom before shutting the door behind her.

“I really hope Dean will be back next week, because her libido is absolutely off the charts,” Kostas huffs, making you chuckle as he stands from the stool. “Anyway, I hope this little erotica break brought inspiration to you to finish the actual assignment. I have to start on one as well, so I’ll lock myself up in my cave. Good luck, girl!” He sends you kisses as he disappears in his own room, leaving you alone.

Turning back to your laptop you see the story still there, you scroll up and run over it again. It’s hot and spicy, you can see it happening so clearly in your head. It would be a shame to just abandon it. Grabbing your laptop you leave your spot in the kitchen and go back to your bedroom. Turning on the fairy lights wrapped around the headboard of your bed, you make yourself comfortable on the mountain of pillows and put your headphones in to start some music in case Ramona gets a little too excited and loud in the room next door.

The story has definitely made you horny and you think of grabbing your trusty pink vibrator from under the mattress, but you’re aching to finish the story, so before helping on yourself, you get back to writing.

An hour later you have thousands of words worth of your wildest fantasies about your Creative Writing professor and how you’d want him to fuck you in his office. It’s dirty, kinky and definitely unlikely to ever happen. You’re convinced you’ll never be able to look him in the eyes like before, but at least he will never any of the shit you wrote into this piece.

Getting it off your chest actually brings you inspiration for the real assignment, so after saving the dirty story, you open a new document and start typing. An hour later you’re almost halfway done so at last you decide to stay up until you’re finished. It’s Sunday tomorrow, you can sleep for as long as you want and at least you’ll have it done and turned in.

It’s around two in the morning when you finally finish and give it one last read to correct any mistakes. You edit it, make sure it’s just the way you want it and then open the online site where you have to turn assignments in. You feel exhausted and half asleep as you get to the page where Professor Styles is expecting the assignments to be uploaded. You export it and watch as the loading bar fills up and the file appears as an attachment. You type your name into the text bar before clicking upload and shutting the laptop closed as soon as it’s sent. You put it aside and just doze off right away, pleased with the work you’ve done.

Creative Writing is your last class on Wednesdays, starting at four and ending at five thirty. After the weekend when you turned the assignment in, you end up almost being late, barely making it on time because your last class was dragged longer than it should have. The professor and the majority of the class is already in the room so you just sprint to your usual seat. When you look up you see that the professor is staring right at you and it makes you freeze in your spot, all blood rushing out of your head.

It’s not the kind of mindless staring when you’re just too deep in your thoughts to realize your eyes are boring into someone. No, he is looking at you with a purpose, and judging from the furrowed eyebrows and darkened eyes, this purpose is not too pleasant.

He starts the class on time and avoids looking at you for the rest of it, while you’re basically falling apart in your seat. Normally you enjoy these ninety minutes, it’s kind of the highlight of your week, but not today. This unsettling feeling in your guts keeps you on edge the whole time and you can’t wait to flee from this room.

The last twenty minutes feel like an eternity and when the professor finally dismisses everyone you’re basically the first one to jump to your feet. The tiny voice in the back of your mind is telling you to get out of here as fast as possible.

“Miss Y/L/N!” the professor’s voice stops you in your tracks and your stomach drops. “Would you mind staying for a few minutes?”

Slowly turning to face him, you’re met with the same bewildered, dark look in his eyes and you feel like a reindeer caught in headlights as you nod anxiously. So much for leaving right away.

You walk to the side so the students pass by you easily. The professor gathers his papers, obviously waiting for the crowd to leave before talking to you. By the time the last person wanders out of the room you’re basically a nervous wreck.

Your eyes venture to the clearly fuming man just a few feet away and you watch him grab a stack of paper from his pile, placing it onto the desk before his eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“Would you mind explaining what this is?”

Stepping closer you take a look at the document in front of you, it has your name on it and the first few lines of your assignment you turned in, but the rest is not the story about the boy and the fish. You nearly faint when you keep reading and realize what it is.

The professor sat in his leather chair behind his desk, paper piles stacked neatly on top of it, his piercing green eyes boring into me as I stood at the door in my uniform…

“Oh my God,” you choke out, grabbing the papers from the desk to see if it’s the whole thing, though you already know the answer to that.

For some terrible and fatal reason, you must have ended up uploading the wrong document when you were turning the assignment in so late. You were half asleep, just happy to be done with it and you didn’t double check if you’ve chosen the right file. The erotic, kinky piece you wrote about the professor and yourself is now lying in front of you, printed out and he has surely read it and the look on his face now makes perfect sense.

“Yeah, I had a similar reaction when I opened the file the other day,” he nods furiously and you genuinely wish that you would just drop dead right then and there.

“This is—It’s a mistake, professor. I-I didn’t mean to, this was—oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening,” you stammer, hands shaking as you avoid to look at him. This is undoubtedly the worst moment of your whole life and nothing will even come close to topping it. You’ll never be able to recover from this, you might even have to go to therapy, because you surely feel like you’ve lost your mind in this moment.

The professor sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he takes a moment to calm himself down. You can only imagine how awkward it is for him. He must be aware how good-looking he is and the effect he has on women. He’s been teaching here for years and you are surely not the first student to have a crush on him. There’s no way he is oblivious to all of this, but he probably never had to directly deal with it like now. He can’t control how other people feel about him or his look, but he should have never been put into the position where his professional work is crossed by some horny student’s wildest fantasies.

“Professor Styles, I am so sorry for this, it was all just a mistake. This was written as just a joke with my roommates, I never meant to use it or post it anywhere, I promise! I accidentally uploaded the wrong file, I swear my real assignment is nothing like this!”

All you can do is ramble about how sorry you are. Because you definitely are. You’ve never felt more embarrassed of yourself before and you’ll never live this down. But you have bigger things to worry about than your own haunting thoughts. What if he fails you for this stunt? Or worse, takes this to the dean and you get kicked out of school? You can definitely see it happen.

“I can only hope that it was just an honest mistake on your part,” he says when he finally speaks up.

“It was, absolutely, one hundred percent,” you nod eagerly.

“I’m not going to make a bigger deal out of this than it is. You’re lucky I’m the one it happened with, because I know some other professors would have taken it way more seriously. I’m willing to forget about it however if you promise not to be this careless in the future.”

“Learned my lesson, won’t happen again,” you shake your head, your heart hammering in your chest from the adrenaline.

“Great. Make sure to keep your… personal works separated from your school work. The assignment’s due date is tomorrow. I’ve already deleted your attachment from the system, but I think it’s better if you turn the real one in printed. I want your work on my desk by four pm tomorrow.”

“Understood,” you nod and hesitate whether you should place the printed copy of your shameful fiction back to the desk.

“Take it with you,” he tells you and you clutch it to your chest quickly.

“Again, I’m very sorry, professor. And thank you for… not punishing me for my reckless actions.”

Your eyes snap up right as you talk about punishing and for a split second you see something even darker in his eyes, but you’re not in the position to ponder about anything.

“I’ll see you next week, Miss Y/L/N,” he nods shortly before tearing his gaze away from you.

You sprint out of the room faster than ever and basically run the five blocks distance back to your apartment’s building. When you burst through the front door you find Kostas in the kitchen cooking and he gives you a questioning look upon seeing how shaken up you are.

“What? Were you chased home?” he asks as he keeps stirring something in the pot that smells absolutely delicious. Dropping your bag on your way you join him, still shaking from the encounter you just had with Professor Styles. Your mouth is dry so you grab a bottle of water from the fridge and chug down the whole thing at once.

“I fucked up. Big time,” you finally manage to speak up.

“You look like you just killed someone, what the fuck happened?”

“I wish I was the one to get killed,” you cry out, burying your face in your hands.

“Just tell me already!”

“Do you remember the dirty story I wrote when I was struggling with my assignment for Professor Styles?”

“Oh, your fanfiction! Of course!” he grins.

“I, uhh—I accidentally… I turned that in as my assignment.”

Kostas’ eyes go so wide for a moment you think they are gonna pop out. He opens his mouth several times, but closes it until he finally speaks up.

“Jesus, are you out of your mind?”

“It was an accident! I turned it in so late, I didn’t check if it was the right file!”

He stares back at you as if you really did just confess to killing someone and it’s the first time he seems speechless, that’s how you know you messed up really badly. Kostas always has a snarky, funny reply to everything, yet now he is just staring at you in silence and it’s worse as if he was dragging your ass for being so stupid.

Then he finally snaps out of his horror.

“Okay, alright. It’s not that bad, right? I mean, it wasn’t that bad what you wrote with us last night, it only went until the kiss.”

“I finished it later, wrote the whole thing,” you admit as you feel the panic rising inside you once again.

“Oh my God, Y/N, you have a death wish or something?”

“Thanks, you’re making me so good about it!” you snap back before dropping to the floor. Sitting you pull your knees to your chest as you lean against the cupboards underneath the counter. Kostas returns to the stove to check on the food while you question your whole existence.

“I’m sorry, but… it’s not like you can undo it now. Did he flip? Are you in trouble?”

“He was pissed. Like, so pissed, I’ve never seen the man like that. But surprisingly, I’m not in trouble. I just need to hand in my real assignment until tomorrow, but this time printed so I don’t fuck it up again.”

“Wow, he went soft on you, girl. He is an angel,” he huffs.

Rubbing your face with your hands you push yourself up from the floor, squaring your shoulders.

“I will never be able to look him in the eyes, Kostas. You have no idea what I wrote in that shit,” you shake your head vigorously.

“Can I read?” he peeks at you and you give him a hard look. “What? Just want to know how bad exactly it was!”

“I’m deleting the file. I wish I could burn my laptop, but I can’t afford a new one,” you growl, running a hand through your hair. “Anyway, I’ll go and make sure my real assignment is the best I can ever turn in. I’m surprised he is not failing me right away.”

The next day you leave earlier than your usual, dropping by the copy place near the campus to print your paper. You read it through three more times on your way just to make sure everything is decent and there’s no trace of your dirty fantasy in it.

You plan to drop by the professor’s office during your lunch break. Your two classes in the morning manage to take your attention away from the disaster that your life is, even if just for a few hours. But when you head to the building where Professor Styles’ office is, your nerves start to beat you up once again at the thought of having to face him.

You lied awake in your bed last night for a long time, thinking about it. He must think you’re crazy, like right off the bats kind of crazy, a maniac, almost like a stalker. It’s not like you wanted to use that story for anything, it would have rotted on your computer for eternity, probably getting deleted at some point. You had no plans to publish it or even just share with anyone, not even with Kostas or Ramona. They’ve heard enough of it and they surely don’t have to know the nasty things you fantasized about when you were alone.

His office’s door is closed, you see that from down the hallway. Taking several deep breaths you walk up and stop in front of it, staring at his name displayed on the wall next to the door. You can’t just dismiss how ironic it is, that your fantasy started similarly, though you are definitely not wearing the same outfit, your jeans and sweater covering most of your body unlike the uniform from the story.

At last you knock on the door, your heart hammering in your throat and you listen carefully for an answer that never comes. You knock again, hoping you just missed his voice, but you hear nothing again, so you decide to try to open the door, expecting it to be locked, but it opens. Just when you’re about to poke your head inside, a voice speaks up behind you.

“Are you looking for Harry? Oh, sorry, I mean Professor Styles.”

You recognize Professor Alvarez, she is teaching Modern American Literature, Drama and Poetry, Ramona had a class with her last semester. She is probably the youngest member of the department, barely thirty and she always looks her best, as if she just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. You’ve never been sure how she can afford designer clothes and the expensive car you’ve seen her drive around campus from the paycheck she earns from the university, not that it’s any of your business.

“Uh, yeah. I have to hand in my paper,” you nod clearing your throat.

“He just left minutes ago to get lunch. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly, wait for him,” she smiles at you warmly, brushing her long, almost black hair over her shoulders.

“Oh, no. I’ll just place it onto his desk, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, go ahead. Do you want me to tell him you were here?”

“No need. He’ll see my name on top,” you force a smile back and she just nods, walking away as you step into Professor Styles’ office.

It’s not your first time here, so you’re not surprised by the massive amount of books lining along the walls and piling even on the floor in the corner. His desk is a bit messy, an empty coffee mug is set on the side, his laptop open, but the screen is black. The walls are a nice olive color and they match great with the vintage looking rug that covers the hardwood flooring that can be found in many of the classrooms as well in this building.

Crossing the room you step to his desk and pulling your paper out of your bag, pinned together with a paper clip, you place it to the middle so he can’t miss it when he returns. Feeling like an intruder you are about to leave right away, but then something catches your eyes.

Peeking from under a smaller stack of papers, your name is written on top and you recognize the formatting of the document. All your blood rushes into your head as you pull it out without even thinking about it and your mouth hangs open when you see another copy of your little fantasy printed out.

It can’t be the one he showed you yesterday since he told you to take it with yourself. That means he had it printed at least twice and this copy is different from the other one you have at home. It has some lines highlighted.

“What the…” You can barely believe your eyes, but the marking runs through the whole thing. The neon yellow color appears quite a few times throughout the whole text. You start going over the lines that caught his attention.

“My mouth watered at the way he gripped himself, my pussy drenched just from the sight in front of me.”

“I begged to him, my knees bruising against the harsh bristles of the rub underneath me, but it was all worth it.”

“My hands wrapped around his thick, throbbing erection and my lips parted.”

“He took my erected nipple between his teeth, tugging on it just enough to make me whine.”

“He dragged the glistening tip across my soaking wet pussy, circling on my clit before he pushed the head inside, the rest following right after.”

“I screamed his name as his hand slapped against my ass over and over again, his hips pounding into me.”

And there was many more. All through the whole thing, he highlighted parts that got dirtier as the story evolved.

You flip through it again as if you were afraid this was just a game your imagination played with you. But the more you stare at the papers in your hands the more evident it’s becoming that it’s there and you’re not just hallucinating.

It doesn’t make sense, it was very clear he had nothing to do with it, he said he deleted your attachment from the site as well, but if that was the case, why does he have another copy that’s been evidently read thoroughly?

A laughter echoes outside of the room and you realize that you shouldn’t be here and definitely shouldn’t be snooping around your professor’s desk. You need to leave before he gets back so you don’t have to face him.

You’re about to stuff the dirty document back into the stack when something unfamiliar washes over you. A sudden urge of confidence and hunger for dominance after the embarrassment you went through yesterday, you want to give him a hint that he was busted.

So instead of making it look like you didn’t touch anything, you lay both your assignments to the table neatly next to each other, your dirty fiction of him and your real work you were supposed to turn in. When he’ll look at the desk it’ll be obvious that you did it and that’s exactly the message you want to leave behind.

Taking one last look at the setup you can’t help but feel excited and riled up as you walk out of his office and leave before he gets back to see your little surprise.

NEXT PART

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