#either way he’s fun to talk to so I won’t be too disappointed if he turns out to be straight

[exopelagic]

maybe straight boy might have a maybe girlfriend. 18 dead 34 injured

[mika-writes-fanfics]

Make it up to you

Professor!Touya x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You're assigned to be the teaching assistant for the new, attractive instructor at your university. His name? Professor Touya. Ever the good student, you hope to maintain a professional relationship with him and stay in good standing, but when he publicly embarrasses you in front of the entire class, all that is thrown out the window. 

Warnings/tags: Colleg AU, quirkless AU, older Touya (coded to be in his 30s), female reader, student/teacher's assistant reader, professor/student relationship, dumbification, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (female), public sex, usage of sir, public embarrassment, lots of dirty talking, messy sex 

Author's note: Huge shoutout to @dabisqueen and @history-be-written for being my beta readers and giving me good suggestions. I appreciate you guys sm!!! This fic truly wouldn't have turned out the way it did without you two. 

Word Count: 7.9K

“So,” Your friend turns to you, asking you in piqued interest, “Who’d the department put you with? You know who you’ll be an assistant for yet?”

“Yeah, I was told I’ve been placed with ‘Professor Touya Todoroki’,” you answer. The name is completely unfamiliar to you, though, you’re hoping she has at least heard of him before.

It’s your turn to ask her a question, and you choose to say, “Have you ever had him?”

Much to your dismay, she shakes her head no.

“Nope, never had him,” she replies. You frown slightly at her answer. Turning to  your friend’s roommate, you hope  to find that she has had some sort of interaction with him. 

“What about you? Have you had him before?” You question her. Just like your friend, she shakes her head, much to your disappointment. 

“I haven’t,” shesays. “I don’t even think anyone else has talked about him before either. I’ve never heard his name in my life.”

Damn. 

You were wanting to hear your peers' experience with your soon to be ‘boss’ of sorts, so that you could prepare yourself, but it seems you’re shit out of luck. You’ll just have to go in blind.  

“You know, they hired a new professor this semester. It might just be him,” your friend points out. She smiles at you mischievously before adding, “And rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck.” 

“Ooooh, how lucky. I’m jealous,” your friend’s roommate giggles. You scoff at the reaction. 

“No reason to be. He’s my professor, ‘s not like I can, you know, do anything with him,” you counter. 

You check your phone, seeing that the time to meet the new professor has come. “I gotta head over to his office before his lecture starts. I’ll catch you around.”

“See you later then. Have fun~” your friend farewells in a singsong voice. 

You chuckle at her antics and make your way over to the department building and to his office. When you get there, you stop to peer through the window on his office door, trying to see if he’s inside. Luckily, he’s there, looking down at a paper in his hand, unaware of your presence. 

You notice right away he doesn’t look like the rest of the university staff. He looks quite a bit younger than the rest of the aging faculty. Though, he was still a couple years your senior, in his early thirties at least. What makes him really stand out to you, apart from his piercing cyan eyes and dark, shaggy hair, is the way he dressed. He’s wearing tight black jeans, a form-fitting white button up, an expensive wristwatch, and black Converse. You can’t help but admire his intense, blue eyes as he studies the sheet of paper in his hand, too focused to notice your staring. Your eyes travel the expanse of his face, taking in his features. 

You remember your friend’s words, her little comment echoing in your brain. ‘Rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck,’ you’re reminded. For once, it seems her gossip is true. Even you can’t deny it; Professor Todoroki is very attractive. 

But you won’t act on your feelings, you can’t. You’re supposed to be his assistant after all! And so, with that thought in your mind, you snap yourself out of your daze. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves and suppressing your desires, before knocking on the door.

He looks up from his papers and glances at you through the window in the door, before beckoning you inside his office. You swing open the door and take a few tentative steps into the room. He quickly looks you up and down, just for a split second, only for his eyes to settle back on your face and look at you expectantly. You hate how his overt glance at your body flusters you and makes you feel hot all over. 

“Excuse me, are you Professor Todoroki?” You ask with a soft voice. 

“Yep, that’d be me. Although, you can just call me Professor Touya. I don’t use my father’s last name,” he explains. His deep, smoky voice worsens your nervousness. The way his voice drawls has butterflies swarming in your stomach. He tosses the papers he was reading off to the side and approaches you, smirking down at you. “But what can I do for you, sweetheart?”

The pet name is something you’re surprised to hear coming from your professor. It borders dangerously on unprofessional, and yet, you find yourself letting it slide. Hearing him say something like that to you sends a wave of heat between your legs. 

Keeping your cool around him is not going to be easy, especially if he keeps calling you that. 

You start by introducing yourself and telling him your name before continuing. “I’m sure the department informed you already, but I’ll be your TA for this next semester,” you start. “I look forward to working with you.”

He hums in response. 

“So you’re my little assistant? Gonna help me with all the long hours grading, hm?” He asks. 

“Yes sir,” you answer. There’s a darker expression that flashes on his face, but it passes just as quickly as it appeared. He narrows his eyes slightly and lazily leans against his desk, supporting his weight using his forearms. Underneath the fabric of his button-up, you can see the muscles of his arms flexing. 

Oh god. 

He’s fucking ripped too. 

“You know, the other faculty told me about you,” he mentions. You can’t help but quirk up at the comment, feeling curious. What did the other teachers say about you? 

“Nothing bad, I hope,” you joke. 

“They all said you were a good student. Never a rule breaker, always professional. Top of your class too, I heard,” he starts. It fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment, to hear your hard work has gotten you some recognition. You’re practically preening at the praise. And yet, it feels like there’s something else he wants to add. He straightens up and leans off of his desk. The space between you closes as he stands dangerously close to you. 

“But there’s one thing I think they got wrong,” he counters.

You tense up as your mind reels. His voice lowers and he adds, “I’m willing to bet you’re not as good as they say you are.” 

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his bold claim. Just who does he think he is? 

You clench your jaw, biting down the urge to snap back. He’s your superior. You can’t just yell at him and let him have it, not this early in the semester at least. Thus, you settle for tense questioning. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” he insinuates and takes a step back. The distance between the two of you gives you space to breathe, space to fume. “We’ll meet an hour before class to go over the lesson plan. I give a lot of tests over the semester, so come by every afternoon to help with grading.” 

Oh great. 

You’ll be spending most of your week nights with this hot asshole. 

“Understood?” He asks. His cobalt eyes bore into yours as he looks at you expectantly, waiting for your response. 

“Yes sir,” you answer flatly. Despite your lack of enthusiasm, he seems to grin at your agreement. 

“Hm, sir. That’s not something I’m used to hearing from my students,” he teases. There’s a darker look in his eyes that disappears as quickly as you notice it. “Your underclassmen tend to be more… casual around me.”

“And does that bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling a bit awkward at your apparent odd choice of words. 

“No,” he says, quickly denying it. His voice seems to drop an octave, and he adds, “I prefer it, actually.”

There seems to be something off about the situation, something greater lying behind the surface of his words, but you can’t seem to figure out what greater meaning lies underneath something as simple as an honorific to him. 

The tension is broken after he clears his throat and leans off of the desk upon looking at the clock. “But enough of that,” he starts. “Our first lecture is scheduled to start soon. Let’s start talking about the lesson plan.” 

If there’s one thing you've learned about Professor Touya over the course of the next few weeks, it’s that he’s both fun to talk to yet incredibly strict. He has a penchant for teasing you and the two of you often banter with one another, but despite the growing bond forming between the two of you, he still insists on you calling him sir. 

You suppose he still wants to maintain at least a bit of an aura of professionalism between the two of you. And so, despite how awkward it feels, you continue to address him as such, unaware of the little quirk in his smirk that always follows. 

In speaking with him and sitting in during his lectures, you find yourself being intrinsically drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You reason it’s because you admire his remarkable intelligence, amongst other enigmatic qualities.

He’s driven. Witty. Mysterious. Captivating, even.

With how much he has going for him, it’s no mystery why the university hired him; he’s easily one of the brightest minds in his field, and an engaging professor as well. You could learn from him. 

Yeah. 

That’s all it is. 

You just want to learn from him, is all. 

That’s why you’re gravitating to him.

You don't want to think about him outside of class.

You don’t want to think about the way his attractive smirk gives you butterflies.

You don’t want to think about kissing those soft lips of his as you stare at him speaking.

And you definitely don’t want to think about his fingers descending down your body and touching your aching core. 

You try to avoid thinking about those less than pure daydreams you have about him, both out of self respect for yourself, considering the insulting implication he threw at you during your first meeting, and out of aversion to entertaining lewd ideas about your professor. However, despite this conscious decision, your subconscious has other plans. You find yourself often stealing glances his way, admiring his attractive features, much to your own dismay.

Today is another instance of your subconscious betraying you, and your eyes are now fixated on him, taking in the frustrated scrunch in his brow and tensed shoulders. He abruptly stops setting up the presentation on the computer and walks over towards the windows in the classroom. In an attempt to get respite from the rising heat in the room, he cracks open all the windows. 

“You’d think with the high tuition they’d have enough money to fix this damn AC already,” Professor Touya scoffs. The building’s lack of cool air is a well-known problem, which is why you wore such a thin, short dress today in the first place. It was too damn hot to show up to class wearing much else.

He sighs in annoyance as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves, revealing something that has your breath hitch in your throat.  They start from his wrists and travel up his arms. Shades of purple and blue accent his black ink work, the hues of blue matching his mysterious, cerulean-colored eyes.  From what you’re able to discern, his tattoos go even farther than just his forearms. You wonder just how many he has, and where. The curiosity makes your mind entertain some less than pure ideas, picturing his bare skin and imagining just what kind of ink work he hides underneath his clothes. You try to reign in these fantasies of yours, but you’re too busy drooling over him.

Too busy to even notice that he’s caught you staring. 

He smirks to himself upon seeing you ogling him. His hunch was right, there was something more between the two of you; an unspoken, mutual sexual tension. Though, you seem to be fighting your apparent attraction to him, he could see it in the way you quickly caught yourself and looked away, avoiding looking at him much more at all. He’s hoping he can change that. Maybe he can make you see there’s no shame in it. He’d be more than happy to indulge your naughty fantasies. 

He lazily glances at the clock, seeing how the scheduled lecture will start shortly. It’s then that he remembers something. He leans closer to you and taps the desk, startling you and flustering you with his sudden closeness, and requests, “Hey, I had some handouts for today’s class printed out upstairs. Will you go pick them up for me?”

“Yes sir, I can do that,” you agree. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. And with that, you leave the class and head to the printing room. Shortly after you leave, a couple students trickle into the room, all belonging to the same close-knit clique of fraternity members. They each take their usual seats and continue to talk amongst themselves freely. Their conversation is painfully loud. He can hear them all the way from the front of the classroom, even though they sit far in the back. 

“Aw man, that hot TA isn’t here today,” one of the frat boys bemoans. “She’s usually around before class.”

“Fucking bummer,” another complains. “Was hoping to get her number.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that,” the other agrees. “She’s a total fucking nerd but I bet she’d be a decent fuck.” They all loudly laugh at that comment and continue making their comments about you. 

He knows their type, and just how it would end for you should you associate with them. Besides the fact that they’re all idiots and that alone would be enough to disappoint you, you would be wasted on them. Those frat boys wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you. They wouldn’t know how to make you cum. They wouldn’t make you completely dumb with pleasure. There’s just something special about getting a normally smart girl to completely fall apart for him, to give a girl so much pleasure that everything else melts away. And truthfully, he wants to take you there. He wants to see just what it would take to fuck you stupid. He has to know, just how much pleasure does it take to turn your brain to mush.

His desire for you is why these frat boys irk him so much. They casually talk about seducing you into their bed like you’re an easy lay. But the fun that comes with you is the cat and mouse game, the deliberation in your brain between suppressing your attraction towards him and wanting to cave into your own desires. Your little errand couldn’t have come at a better time. He’s glad you’re not here to give them an opportunity to make a move on you, but he can’t keep sending you away before class starts to spare you the misfortune of these idiots making a pass at you. 

No.

He needs to send a little message to the competition. 

And lucky for him, he’s got just the idea. 

More students start filing in as he makes his plans. He has everything thought out, and all that is left is the final piece: you. But shortly before Professor Touya starts the lecture, you make it inside the classroom, papers in hand. You attempt to start passing out the handouts, when he stops you in your tracks. He takes the stack of sheets from your hands and haphazardly tosses them aside.

“I thought they needed that for today?” You ask, thrown off by the apparent change in plans. 

“Nah, we’ll just have them copy the diagram themselves for today. I saw some research that suggested it helps more with memorization. You’ve seen their test grades, the students need all the help they can get,” he lies. You can’t help but genuinely chuckle at his light jab at his own students. As much as you think it’s a waste to discard the handouts– if Professor Touya believes it’ll help the students, you won’t argue with him. 

“Alright, whatever you say, sir,” you laugh. The lecture starts as it normally does and follows the previously discussed lesson plan, until it comes time to show the students the diagram. He turns to you mid-lecture, about to ask you for some sort of assistance. 

“You’ve got better art skills than me. Draw this diagram. Top of page ninety,” Professor Todoroki instructs. He slides over his copy of the textbook, pages turned to a rather complicated figure. It’s far too much information to draw from memory. 

“Sure thing,” you answer. You pick up a marker and uncap it, before holding the textbook in the crook of your arm. You’re about to start copying the figure near the bottom of the board when he interrupts you. 

“Ah, I’m going to write more notes there in a minute. Why don’t you put it over here instead?” He points far up the whiteboard to some blank space tucked in the upper corner. Your stomach sinks at seeing where he wants you to place the diagram. You’re regretting wearing such a short dress today. But still, short dress or not, you have to do this. Maybe… Maybe you can manage it, without flashing the entire class? 

Without much of a choice, you study the diagram, balancing the heavy textbook in one hand while you reach up the whiteboard with a dry-erase marker in hand. You start to stand up on the tips of your toes and you try to aim for a slightly closer area of blank space, all the while your mind is preoccupied with the hem of your skirt. You’re dangerously close to accidentally erasing all of his previous notes, something you’re not too keen on doing given his strictness. 

“Having trouble?” Professor Touya teases, with an amused grin on his face. 

“No, ‘m fine,” you lie. Not that you would admit it to him, but it’s more than just a bit awkward to both hold onto the book and stand up high to draw the figure. 

“Here, let me,” he insists. He comes up behind you, his crotch just barely brushing against your ass. Your breath gets caught in your throat at your body involuntarily stiffens. You internally cringe at how something so simple as a passing touch makes your body feel hot. 

He plucks the textbook from your hands, allowing you a bit more freedom of motion to stand up higher and draw with precision. He sidles up next to you and holds the book open for you. Still, even with his help, it’s still hard to draw exactly where he wants you to. Your dress already feels rather high on your legs as is, you’re sure disaster would happen should you stand up higher. 

“Come on, you’re almost there, just stand up a little more,” he encourages and goads. You almost jolt when you feel a warm hand touch your waist, egging you on to push the envelope just a little further. Not wanting to disobey him, you do as he says, though the regret is instant. The skirt of your dress hikes over your hips and reveals the curve of your ass. A sharp, hushed silence sweeps over the room. Your ears feel like they’re burning and tears are welling up in your eyes at the sheer humiliation you feel in this moment. You draw the figure anyways, albeit carelessly and sloppily. 

You just want this to be over. 

But since your back is turned to the class, you’re completely unaware of the silent exchange happening between Professor Touya and the frat boys in the back row. While you are doing as he asked, ever his obedient assistant, he’s busy glowering at his competition. 

The message is clear. 

You are off limits. 

When the diagram is finally drawn, you straighten back out and place your feet flat on the ground. You should be a bit relieved when your dress finally covers your body once more, but you’re unable to feel that respite. The damage is done, and you’re now left to simmer in your own embarrassment. 

“Is that all you needed from me, sir?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper and thick with emotion. There’s a lump in your throat forming as you fight back the urge to cry. 

“Yeah, that’s all, sweetheart,” he answers, in a manner that’s almost a subtle attempt at soothing you. You let out a shaky, uneven breath. 

“Okay,” you say through a tense sigh. Your voice cracks when you speak once more, “I-I’ll be in your office to… get started on grading.”

You dismiss yourself and nearly rush out of the classroom, all too eager to distance yourself from the source of your shame. Once you’re in the safety of the hallways, you freely let the tears flow down your face. You’re at least thankful the halls are somewhat sparse, meaning that few are able to see you fall apart like this. The last thing you can handle emotionally is someone asking you what happened or if you were okay. Talking about it would just make the humiliation much more real.  

When you finally reach Professor Touya’s office, you close the blinds on his door behind you and prop yourself up against the desk with your hands. You try to recollect yourself, to no avail. Your shame just eats away at you. But at least with his office so far out of the way of all other classes and the blinds drawn down, no one can see you fall apart like this. You can stew in your emotions somewhat privately, at least until Professor Touya gets back. 

Professor Touya.

You want to sneer at the thought of him. The more you think about what happened during the lecture, the more you can’t help but assume he wanted to embarrass you on purpose, like the asshole he is. He enjoys toying with you too much, but this time, he really went too far. You think you’ve been much too cordial with him. When he gets back, you swear you’ll give him a piece of your mind. Fuck professionalism, that was thrown out the window when he forced your hand and caught a peek up your dress. 

Speak of the devil, or rather, think of the devil, and he appears. More time than you thought must have passed while you were smoldering in your feelings, as Professor Touya leisurely strolls into his office, now apparently finished with the lecture. You wipe your tears on the back of your hand, trying to make yourself look a little less weak in front of him and steeling your nerves to tell him off. 

“So what the hell was that about, huh? Why do you get off on being an absolute dick to me? I know you did that shit on purpose,” you accuse. He makes his way over to you and stands in front of you, partially caging you against the desk. The close proximity to him makes you feel hot with what you assume is indignation.

Yeah, that’s what this feeling is.

You despise him.

He doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to let you vent out your frustrations, taking the spite you hurl at him. You’re very much angry at him, filled with so much frustration that your voice is unsteady as you yell, “You’re such a fucking ass. And for what! I did nothing to you, I’ve been nothing but helpful and polite. What could possibly make you want to humiliate me like that? What have I done to make you hate me like this?”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t hate you,” he soothes. His voice sounds much more husky when he adds, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Well I still think you’re an asshole for that little stunt you pulled, even if it wasn’t because you hated me,” you counter, speaking in between breaks in your voice. There’s still tears breaking past your lash line as a consequence of feeling so heated. Your emotions are only further worsened by the confusion you feel. If it wasn’t a malicious attempt to knock you down, why would he do such a thing to you? 

“I know, I know,” he agrees. “How about I make it up to you then?”

“How could you possibly make it up to me?” You question as your voice cracks under the weight of your emotions. You move to wipe your face when he beats you to the punch, brushing away the tears falling down your cheek with his thumb. His hand stays on your face and he tilts your chin to him, angling your face closer to his.  

“Well, I could start by making you feel good, give you something else to think about,” he insinuates. Your breath gets caught in your throat at his implication. “I know you feel it too, this tension between us. I’d love to indulge your fantasies about me, if you’d let me.”

You part your lips, searching for the right words and the strength to reject him, but with his face hovering tantalizingly close to yours, lips mere inches away, you realize you don’t have it in you. 

Fuck. 

You want him so bad. 

“P-please,” you whisper. He has a shit eating grin on his face at your meek and embarrassed begging. 

“What was that? You’ll need to speak up, sweetheart, I can’t hear you,” he teases. You swallow the lump in your throat, and lock eyes with him. 

“Please, make me feel good,” you say again, this time with a little more conviction. 

“Atta girl,” he praises. And with your agreeance, he closes the distance between the two of you and slots his mouth against yours. A gasp escapes you at the feeling of his lips working against your own. Your yearning and daydreaming didn’t prepare you for the intensity of this, for the pure wanting behind every movement of his lips. 

The kiss becomes more and more heated as he presses his body further against yours, leaving little space between the two of you. His tongue dips out from his mouth and runs along the seam of your lips and you part slightly, allowing him the space to slip the wet muscle inside. You find yourself shuddering at the contact and gripping onto the fabric of his button up as a way to tether yourself in this moment. It’s almost a bit embarrassing just how much you’re melting into his touch from something as simple as kissing. Your body is eating it up regardless, sending waves of warmth throughout your entire being and pooling between your legs. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks, after parting from the kiss, his breath fanning over your lips. Although you’ve been dreaming about this moment, and you desperately want to feel his touch all over you, your mind can’t help but chime in; you shouldn’t. 

You really shouldn’t. 

But with his hardening cock pressing up against your stomach and professionalism now abandoned, you throw caution to the wind and give in. You give him a nod and allow his hands to roam over your body. It’s almost dizzying to feel his touch, especially when his hands palm your chest and grope your ass, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands. He dives back in to press his lips up against yours in an intense, crushing kiss once more. You whimper against him, flustered at the feeling of his hot touch over your clothes. You’re becoming drunk on lust just from touches alone. 

Your arousal is heightened as the hands at your ass trail to the front, reaching your hips, before snaking up your dress. His fingers press against your clothed mound. He smirks into the kiss upon feeling the wetness already clinging against the fabric. 

You whine at the loss of friction when his fingers pull back, but the absence of his touch is short-lived. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and tugs the clothing down your thighs. You part your legs to allow him to completely rid you of them, leaving your cunt now bare before him. You’re glad the blinds on his door are drawn, preventing anyone else from seeing the debauched sight of your panties on the floor in front of your professor. 

The pads of his fingers teasingly trace up your inner thighs, slowly inching bit by bit up your legs and making his way to your aching core. You let out an involuntary gasp when he finally grazes your pussy, his touch now no longer separated by a layer of clothing. 

His fingers run up and down your folds, spreading your juices over yourself and teasingly avoiding sinking into your eager hole. You squirm and jolt every time the tips of his fingers brush against your clit. His warm touch on your engorged bundle of nerves sends jolts of pleasure up your spine. The embarrassment and shame melts away into pure, unadulterated desire with every drag of his fingers over your slit, leaving you wetter and wetter. Your slick coats his fingers as he grazes over your hole. He looks down to see his skin glistening with your wetness, causing him to suck in a breath at the sight. 

Realizing he’s teasing himself by waiting any longer, he decides to give you what you’ve been wanting. Two fingers finally dip inside of your heat, slowly at first. You let out a breathy moan as his digits sink into you. When they bottom out inside of you, you want to squirm at how full you feel with just his fingers alone. They’re the perfect combination of long and thick, stretching out your cunt with ease. 

A sharp inhale escapes you when he slowly pulls out, almost entirely, before pumping back inside of you. He sets an agonizingly slow pace at first as he watches your every reaction, studying what movements and angles have you panting for him. Ever observant, he effortlessly finds your most sensitive spots and hones in on them before quickening his pace. 

Your legs tremble and shake with every harsh thrust of his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to cumming with little effort on his part. He knows just how to curl them up, just how to press the ball of his hand against your clit, just how to get you panting for him. The relentless pumping of his fingers in and out of your hole sends floods of wetness to your core, coating his fingers with your slick. Moans loudly tumble out of your mouth when he slips another into your heat. Though as much as he’s enjoying hearing your slutty moans, he seems distracted. 

He puts his palm over your mouth and leans into your ear. “Shhh, someone’s coming,” he hushes. “Might wanna quiet down unless you want your classmates to barge in and see your pussy full with my fingers.”

You don’t have to see him to know he’s smirking at the comment, feeding off of your apparent embarrassment. The sounds of footsteps and talking nears closer and closer to the door. Knowing your classmates are nearing the door while your legs are obscenely spread for your professor and stuffed full of his thick fingers makes you feel hot with humiliation and overwhelmed with panic, but the pleasure Touya gives you is too much to give up. And so, you bite back your moans in an attempt to stay completely silent. Your body tenses with the risk of getting caught, causing you to clench down even tighter around his fingers. But even though you’re desperately fighting back the urge to whine and wail for him, with very obvious strain, the bastard keeps pumping in and out of you. You just hope the sound of wet squelching isn’t audible through the door.

“I can’t see in, the blinds are closed. Is he not here today?” A student asks, her question partially muffled through Touya’s office door. 

“No, he’s here. My roommate just left his class a while ago,” another student replies. The door knob jiggles as she tries to open the door. You hold your breath, expecting it to swing open and to be caught in the act. 

Only, it never happens. 

The knob refuses to yield to the student’s attempts. She mutters out of frustration, “Damn, must be in a meeting right now. His office is locked.” 

“Huh, I guess we’ll come back tomorrow,” the other classmate shrugs.

You sigh in relief, letting some of the tension dissipate. So long as you’re quiet, you can make it through this without anyone knowing what went on in his office. Still, even that is proving to be a challenge with the way his fingers continue to slam in and out of your pussy. Your knuckles turn white as you grip onto the desk like it’s your lifeline, pouring all your urge to moan into tensing your hands. His half-lidded, cobalt eyes stay trained on your face, seemingly searching for something, while a lazy and smug expression plasters his own face. 

A change in the angle of his fingers sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body and a stifled squeal wrangles past your lips. He snickers at your failed attempts at staying quiet. You instantly feel yourself sweating, either from the anxiety or from quickly racing towards your peak, you’re unable to discern. Hopefully the students didn’t pick up on it.

Much to your horror, one of the students speaks, “Wait, did you hear that?”

“No? What’d you hear?” The other asks in confusion. You cringe, worrying that their curiosity will lead to your social downfall. If they know someone is in there, they’ll demand you answer them. Should that happen, you’re sure Professor Touya will make you answer the door. Not only that, but with the way he’s eating up your embarrassment, you worry he’d make you answer their questions, all the while he still fingers you out of view.

“It was like… a squeak or something,” she explains. 

“Might have been a mouse, this building is super old ya’ know,” the other offers. 

The suspicious student laughs and says in disgust, “Ew, let’s just get the hell out of here. Lab starts in 5 minutes anyways.”

You can’t seem to hear the sound of their footsteps leaving over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the wet noises of your cunt gushing around his fingers. Evidently, Touya hears. “They’re gone, sweetheart,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. The feeling of his breath against your ear has you shuddering in response. His hand retracts from your face, no longer muffling your sounds. “Since we’re alone again, why don’t you let me hear those loud, slutty sounds of yours, yeah?” 

He starts to mouth your neck, intermixing his kisses with rougher bites against the delicate skin of your throat, leaving behind blooms of teeth marks and hickeys in his wake. It’s almost as if he wants everyone on campus to talk, like he wants your classmates to know you slept with him; the marks all over your neck damning evidence of your hookup. The sensation of his lips all over you  and the curving of his fingers against that bundle of nerves inside you has you keening for him, whines now freely escaping your mouth. 

“A-ah, feels so good,” you moan with a drawn out voice. He thrusts his fingers in and out of you in earnest, spurred on by your sweet sounds echoing in his office. You let out a choked noise upon feeling him speed up, and your walls clench down on his fingers, sucking them further into your heat. He can tell you’re quickly nearing your peak with the way your pussy flutters around him, contracting wildly.  

He pulls away from your neck and mutters against your skin, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh, “Yeah, my fingers fucking your cunt feel that good? Gonna come on fingers then?”

The sound of his deep voice spewing such filthy words pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you like a harsh wave, stealing your breath away at the impact. You loudly moan as your cunt contracts around his fingers, all the while he continues to pump in and out of you, working you through your release. True to his orders, you gush around him, and your slick freely leaks from your sensitive hole. He finally relents and pulls out of you when you squirm from the overstimulation, attempting to wriggle away from the excessive pleasure. A pleased smirk paints his face upon seeing his fingers glisten with your wetness in the light. The sight gives him an idea, one that goes straight to his cock just at the thought.

“Open up,” he commands. The fingers wet with your juices hover over your lips, waiting for you to follow his demands. You shyly part your lips, allowing his fingers to slip into you. The tang of your own slick touches your tongue and you hold eye contact with him as your mouth closes around his fingers. 

The feeling of your tongue swirling around his digits and the sight of your lips closing around him has his mind racing. He can’t help but think of how your mouth would feel on his cock and how filthy you would look on your knees for him, pretty face nestled against his pelvis and teary doe eyes looking up at him. But he’ll save that for another time.

He needs more than just your mouth right now. 

Once his fingers are sufficiently cleaned off by your tongue, he pulls them out. He surges forward and kisses you, sliding his tongue past your lips. The taste of you still lingers in your mouth. He lewdly moans into the kiss, feeling that much hornier upon sampling your taste. 

“Shit,” he curses against your lips after pulling back. “You taste so good.” He dives back in, passionately kissing you once more and tangling his tongue with yours. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’d bend you over this desk and devour this cunt, but I’m just dying to be inside you.”

“I need it, I want it too. Please, take me,” you beg. Never once did you anticipate you’d be begging for your professor to fuck you in earnest. Never once did you think you’d see the smirk on his face at your lewd pleading. And you certainly didn’t believe you’d ever feel his hands slide under your dress and lift it over you, unclasping your bra along with it, leaving you bare before him. 

He pulls back from you and starts to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clinking in the room makes your ears burn at the lewdness and your pussy clench in anticipation. He frees himself from the confines of his dark jeans, leaving you salivating at the sight of him. 

You want to drool upon seeing how he’s quite thick and long, with prominent veins running along his shaft. You’re then pushed down flush against the top of his desk, splayed over a mess of papers, and he hooks one of your legs over his shoulders. Your breath hitches when he positions his cock in between your folds with his other hand and runs the head up and down your slit, collecting the slick dripping from you and lubing his cock. 

He locks eyes with you as he finally pushes the tip in, relishing in your expression as he slowly slips in, inch by inch. Meanwhile, your full attention is focused on the way his thickness stretches you out and how the veins on his shaft drag against your walls as he sinks into you. You feel a bit breathless when he finally bottoms out and his tip kisses your cervix. 

He starts to pull his hips back until his cock nearly slips out, before pushing back into you and filling you up once more. You feel completely stuffed. True to his words, you can’t think about anything else, the embarrassment you felt frowning more and more distant in your mind and being replaced by sheer, mind numbing pleasure. 

But when he really starts rutting in and out of you? 

Your brain is filled with cotton. He can tell by the way your eyes glaze over and soft moans sound from your parted, panting lips that he’s slowly fucking you stupid. It fills him with a bit of pride to see you being reduced to a brainless, horny mess for him, and the realization goes straight to his cock. 

“T-touya,” you stammer and moan upon feeling his thrusts increase in tempo. You never called him by his first name before, but now that he’s inside of you, it was reasonable for you to believe the two of you are well past formalities. 

“It’s still sir to you,” he growls, correcting your slip up. He punctuates his statement with a hard and deep thrust, making you sharply gasp. His stern voice draws a shudder out of you and you find yourself clenching down on him. 

“‘M sorry, s-sir,” you apologize. You can feel his cock throb in your walls at the honorific. Even through your lust clouded mind, you put the pieces together. 

Oh.

That’s why he liked you calling him sir. 

“Yeah, that’s better,” he breathes. “Like the sound of that out of your mouth more than my name. Keep it up, sweetheart.”

Spurred on by your words, he hooks your other leg over his shoulder, slightly raising you off of the desk and angling his thrusts to hit even deeper inside of you. You grip onto the edges of the table as he fucks into you harder. 

He’s canting into you so deeply and sharply that the desk shakes with every harsh clap of his hips against your thighs. Papers scatter onto the floor, picture frames fall flat on the table top, pens spill out of their holders and clatter onto the ground, all the while he chases one goal: to make you a stupid, incoherent mess from his cock. 

His pace quickens and you bite down on your knuckle in an attempt to muffle your whines and moans, not wanting to fill the entire wing of the building with the sounds of sex. You feel the pleasure rapidly building as he hammers into you, pressing up against that sponges bundle of nerves along your walls. It’s easy to tell he is feeling the same, as more and more deep moans and curses tumble from his lips while he ruts into you. The sound of his voice moaning out for you combined with the angle of his cock pushes you to the verge of orgasming. 

“Hah, fuck. ‘M close. Wanna cum, sir. Please make me cum,” you desperately beg. He throbs at your dumbified state and from the word sir coming out of your mouth. 

Shit, he’s getting close too. 

“Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over these papers then?” He asks, amid pants. He becomes drunk at just the thought of you cumming and dripping all over his cock. It sends a shock wave of pleasure straight between his legs and he rambles on, “Think you can squirt f’me too?” His hips brutally snap into yours, giving you the friction you need to finally be pushed over the edge. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You chant, slurring each of your words in drunken pleasure. You finally fall apart with a silent scream, and just as he was hoping, you gush around him.

“That’s it, cream all over my fucking cock, sweetheart,” he encourages. Strings of your slick cling to his cock and snap with every clap of his pelvis against your skin. He continues to thrust in and out of you, recklessly chasing his own release as you lay below him, now teetering on the edge of overstimulation. 

Your pussy clamping down on him and your walls fluttering finally pushes him over. His hips stutter and he cums with a deep groan, painting your insides white. 

He stills, momentarily keeping his cock nestled in your walls, as he lowers your legs back down against the desk. Slowly, he pulls out of you, glancing down between your legs to see your combined releases leaking out of your hole. He watches, eyes transfixed, as his seed slowly starts seeping out of you and pooling on the sheets below. 

The two of you really did a number on his desk, and his entire office, for that matter. You lay there on the table, dazed and panting, attempting to catch your breath and come back down from your high. He can’t help but smugly chuckle at your dumbified state, before he tucks himself back into his pants. 

“What a mess you’ve made,” he teases. He walks off and heads to the door, about to leave, when he turns over his shoulder and adds, “Make sure to clean up after yourself.” 

You steal a glimpse at the wrecked state of the desk, partially horrified at the wetness pooling between your legs and onto the assignments and handouts. You stare at the wet spots on the sheets of paper. 

Fuck. 

Maybe it’ll dry off. 

You hope so, at least. 

Your face burns when you walk into his classroom the next day. You make eye contact with him as you go to stand near the computer, bringing up the PowerPoint for the lecture. The situation is more than just awkward. 

How do you proceed from here? 

You’re not even sure what to say to him, if you’re supposed to greet him as usual. Your mouth feels dry from nervousness, and you take a drink from your water bottle. A student then walks up to Professor Touya, thankfully taking the heat off of you to speak to him. 

“Professor Touya?” The student starts, preparing to ask him some sort of question. 

“Yes, what is it?” He answers. 

“Did you spill something on my papers?” The student confronts. You choke on your drink as he presents his graded assignment that looks to be partially sullied by water damage, only you and Professor Touya both know- that is definitely not water. 

“Hm, good question. I’m not sure, my TA graded most of these,” he deflects, feigning ignorance. He thinks for a moment, before snapping his fingers and saying, “You know what? Why don’t you ask her? She might know what happened.” 

To your horror, the student takes his suggestion, turning to you and interrogating, “What is this? Is this milk?” 

“Haha, yeah. Milk. It’s just milk,” you force out. You wish you could crawl into a hole and disappear at this moment from the sheer amount of embarrassment you feel. You awkwardly apologize, “Um, sorry about that.” 

“I mean, it’s okay I guess. Accidents happen,” the student shrugs.  

“Alright, if that’s all, we have to set up for today’s lecture. If you’ll excuse us,” Professor Touya intervenes. The student then walks off to take his seat as other students start trickling in. With the student now out of earshot, you confront him. 

“I hate you so much right now,” you say. “That was so embarrassing!” He chuckles at your situation, evidently very entertained by your dismay.

But as much as this circumstance embarrasses you, you can’t help but want more of last night, ruined papers be damned. Feeling bold, you ask, “Make it up to me?”

He gives you a cocky smirk, thrilled to know you want to be fucked dumb yet again. “Sure thing, sweetheart,” he agrees. “I’ll be waiting in my office whenever you want me.”

Tags: @the-milk-anon , @mirayasimpinghard

[atinylittlepain]

alright hear me out. you’re secretly in love with joel. and joel is ridiculously attracted to you and he’s so protective of you and has this massive crush that he refuses to acknowledge. but Tess can totally tell and either

a. she is super jealous and annoyed about it. she confronts joel in some way and maybe treats you shitty. but joel totally calls her out and basically admits that he does like you.

b. she wants you two to get together. and tries to force you two to spend more time alone with each other and maybe she confronts joel and you walk in on their convo or she just tells you outright that joel is into you but will never admit it.

tesscue part two! i love it

Better Off

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

Joel's trying to keep his distance from her. But Tess has other plans for him and the girl he's trying so hard to forget about.

warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, angst, feelings

a/n | this can be read as a standalone or as a part two to Looking, either way it's fun :)

.................................

She would never admit it, but she’s disappointed that things haven’t changed all that much with Joel, not since that night he came looking for her and all but murdered that guard that had been giving her trouble. Not since she kissed him on the cheek and told him how she feels about him.

He still won’t really talk to her, not unless it’s business. But now that she’s working almost entirely with Tess, even those opportunities are few and far in between. When they do speak, he keeps his eyes anywhere but on her. His hands in his lap, the laces of his boots, something just over her shoulder, but he never quite meets her gaze. More than anything, she feels embarrassed that she had been so forward with him that night. She had thought that he felt similarly, with the way he was blushing like a teenager at her flirting, but now it seems pretty clear that Joel Miller wants nothing to do with her outside of their business partnership. 

She’s trying to not let it get to her, but her mind can’t help needling at it. Does he think she’s too young for him? Too talkative? Too crass? She flits away these questions easily, but her mind always settles on the fear that Joel just doesn’t take her seriously, not really. So, she’s resigned herself to the reality that her little crush is going to have to stay just that, focusing on her work with Tess as a distraction from him. 

While Joel may be getting more distant, she and Tess have become quick friends in their work establishing a new trade partner right on the border of Vermont, often staying up late into the night when the talk shifts from smuggling routes to loose gossip and life. Joel had often passed by them, sitting at the kitchen table in his apartment, grumbling to himself before closing his bedroom door with a definitive thud. Tess would always apologize for her “dumbass associate,” and she would just shrug, trying not to take his clear hostility personally, though it sure seemed to be directed toward her. A few months passed like that, and with each day she convinced herself a bit more that she didn’t care about Joel Miller. 

With summer creeping in, it’s just about time for Joel and Tess to make another seasonal trip out to Bill and Frank, and when she gets back to his apartment a few nights before they’re supposed to go, she’s surprised by the conversation he and Tess are having.

“Then we’ll just push it back.” Tess shakes her head in her hand where she’s sitting at the kitchen table.

“We can’t, Joel. Bill and Frank are already skittish as it is, if we go changing dates on them it’s just gonna raise their hackles.” Joel looks at her blankly, slumping back in his chair.

“Then you gotta push that meeting back instead.” Tess scoffs.

“I can’t. It’s time sensitive what I got worked out with Marlene. It’s now or never. You gotta go to Bill and Frank’s without me. She can go with you.” Her mouth goes dry when Tess nods over to where she’s still standing in the doorway, and her stomach twists when Joel is so quick to protest against the idea.

“Tess, I’m not going with her.” Tess looks ready to smack him upside the head, but she interjects, walking further into the room and fixing him with a steely look.

“What? You don’t think I can handle it, Miller? Well I can assure I manage just fine out there. Been running the route to Vermont nearly every week so don’t worry about me. I’ll go with you, and you’ll be lucky to have me along for the trip.” She shocks even herself with that outburst, but obviously not as much as Joel whose mouth is hanging open, eyes wide as he looks at her. Tess claps her hands together, startling him out of his surprised stupor.

“Well, that settles that. Thanks for taking on asshole duty, I owe you one.” Tess grins at her as Joel scoffs at her words. She however, is starting to realize exactly what she just signed up for.

It’s going to be a long hike.

…

Her mind has been swirling ever since they left the QZ. Now, pacing back and forth outside the hollowed-out gas station that Joel is rummaging through for supplies he had stashed, she keeps replaying the conversation she had overheard the night before between him and Tess. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when she heard Tess say her name, she had stopped in her tracks, leaning back behind the door frame of Joel’s bedroom to listen in.

“Joel, you’re being fucking ridiculous.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tess laughed at that.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re gonna scare her away with the way you treat her, is that what you want?”

“No. I just– just don’t care to be around her, that’s all.” Her heart dropped at that, but Tess was quick to reply.

“Well I don’t believe that for one second. It’s kinda hard to scowl at someone while you’re also giving them puppy dog eyes. Joel, it’s pretty fucking clear that you’re sweet on her. And I know for a fact that she’s had a little thing for you too. But if you keep treating her like shit, whatever chance you have left with her is gonna be gone. Or worse, you’re gonna cost me my best business partner.” A heavy silence fell after Tess’ rant, Joel clearing his throat a few times before he answered.

“Look, it’s better off this way. She’s better off not getting– tangled up with me. Fuck– I’ll try to be– polite, I guess. Not gonna lose you a business partner, but it’s better for everyone if I keep my distance. She’ll get over it– tough as nails, that one. It’s better for her, Tess. Alright?” Tess sighed.

“Fine. But I still think it’s a shame that you’re just throwing away a chance at something actually good in this world.”

She had scurried out of his apartment at the sound of their conversation dying out, and ever since, her mind has been replaying it on an infinite loop. It had shocked her, hearing Joel all but openly admit that he had been harboring his own feelings for her. But that shock quickly rolled over to dismay that it was made explicitly clear that he wasn’t going to do anything to act on those feelings.

“You good?” She’s startled out of her thoughts by Joel shouldering his way out of the gas station, wordlessly passing her one of the guns he had stashed before. She nods as they already step back into stride, turning back to continue following the highway toward Bill and Frank’s. 

Their hike so far has been quiet, save for monosyllabic communication, and the silence is starting to get to her, just enough that she finally opens her mouth. Anything’s better than staying stuck in her head.

“Joel? Can I ask you a question?” He hums out a reluctant permission, his head tilting slightly to look at her as they keep walking.

“What did you do before– well, before?” She knows he doesn’t like talking about the past, and judging by the way his face screws up at her question, she guesses he might not even answer, but she’s so sick of conversations about FEDRA guards and trade routes. She’d give anything to talk about something normal.

When he doesn’t answer, she sighs.

“Oh c’mon. We’ve got like another four hours of walking, might as well fill the time with something.” Still nothing, his eyes staying fixed forward on the crumbling road ahead of them. She huffs.

“Well I was a nurse– ER, if you can believe it.” That seems to pique his interest, finally glancing at her.

“Were you on shift when everything–?” She nods to his trailing off question.

“Sure was. Booked it out of there when my patients started taking bites out of doctors. Pfft, I remember one of my coworkers refusing to leave because she was worried about getting paid for her overtime.” She lets out a weak laugh, shaking her head at the strange memory. Joel clears his throat.

“I was a contractor. Me and my brother had a little business– building homes, that type of stuff. It was, um, good work.” She offers him a smile, surprised when he offers her one back. The moment is short lived however, when two infected come darting out of the treeline. 

It’d be foolish to waste ammo, both of them scrambling to pull out knives. She makes quick work of the one coming up on her, turning to see Joel struggling on the ground with the other. But before she can help him, she gets tackled to the ground by another screeching infected, her knife skittering out of her hand at the impact. She rolls on the ground with the snarling creature, fighting back its snapping jaws as best she can, though it continues to press closer and closer into her. And then its body goes slack over her, and she can’t help the stifled shriek she lets out when it slumps heavy on top of her. Her whole body trembles as she shoves the body off of her, finding Joel standing over her, a wild look in his eyes.

He kneels down between her legs, helping her sit up as his hands dart anxiously over her, checking for bites. There’s a loud rushing in her ears, her hands shaking as she grasps onto the front of his flannel. His palms cup her face, warm and steadying as he coaxes her to look at him.

“Are you ok? Not hurt anywhere?” She’s never gotten so close to death, the shock of it settling icy and slick in her bones. She takes a shuddering breath before answering.

“I’m– I’m fine. I’m ok.” The worry rounding his eyes dissolves, his face setting back in a gruff, empty expression. She hates how she tries to lean into him when he takes his hands away from her face. He gets up with a groan, offering her a hand, but she has enough dignity to refuse to take it, scrambling onto her still unsteady legs.

“We should keep moving. There’s probably more where those came from.” She doesn’t respond to his words, just starts walking again, trying to steady the persistent shake in her hands. 

The rest of their hike is silent until Joel suggests they break for the night, setting up camp in a thicket of trees just off the highway. They eat their rations silently in the slow-darkening summer dusk. She’s surprised when he offers her his flask.

“Helps with the nerves.” She swears she could get whiplash with the way he’s swinging from seeming to not give a fuck to acting like he cares. She wordlessly takes the flask from him, ignoring the flicker of his fingers brushing hers as she takes a hard swig. 

“You sure you’re alright?” She can’t help but scoff at that.

“Careful, Miller. A girl might start to think you actually give a fuck about her.” He looks stricken by her harsh words, the fading light of day casting shadows over his furrowed expression.

“I– I do give a fuck about you.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around her shins where she’s sitting on her spread out sleeping bag.

“Oh I know. But you don’t want to, do you? That’s the problem. You don’t want to care about me. You think I’d be better off if you kept your distance from me.” His jaw goes slack at her words, leaning over his knees where he’s sitting across from her.

“I thought I heard you– you were listening in, weren’t you? To me and Tess? How much did you hear?” She sighs, turning her gaze down.

“Heard all of it.” It’s more of a mumble, but Joel hears it.

“Look, I’ll admit it– I like you– probably more than I should. But I’m right, darlin. It’s better this way. I’m no good for you. You best just forget about this.” Her head whips up at that, finally meeting his surprisingly sorrowful gaze.

“How can you say that, Joel? How could you possibly know what’s best for me? This isn’t about what’s best for me. You know what I think? I think you’re scared to let anyone get close to you. This isn’t better for me, it’s easier for you.” His expression has hardened, and she knows that she just pissed him off.

“That’s bullshit. You think this is easy for me? Pushing you away? Maybe you’ll understand when you’re a little older, darlin, but there ain’t anything easy about any of this.” She scoffs at that, anger coaxing up her spine.

“Oh please. That’s a weak excuse and you know it. Pulling the fucking age card. I’m not the one that needs to fucking grow up.” Somehow, in the heated volley of words, they’ve both ended up kneeling in front of each other, inching up into each other’s snarling faces.

“Oh, I need to grow up? That’s rich coming from the girl who just a few months ago was flirting with fucking feds for a few extra ration cards.” She does it before she can even think, her hand arcing with the goal of smacking him clean across his face, but before she can make contact, he grabs her wrist, holding her hand between them as she struggles in his grasp.

“Let go.” She can feel her anger seething off of herself, but Joel just cocks an eyebrow at her, firming up his grip on her wrist.

“No.” He says it so casually, she can’t help but laugh.

“What are you, a toddler? I said, let fucking go, you–” She’s cut off by his lips smashing into hers. Though she initially tries to fight it, she can’t help but mold her lips to his, seeking out the upper hand when she swipes her tongue over his bottom lip, causing him to groan lowly. He lets go of her wrist, his palms coming to squeeze at the curve of her hips as he topples back onto his ass, taking her with him as she straddles his thighs. It’s an angry, demanding little thing of a kiss, both of them fighting for dominance between swallowed gasps. He finally pulls back with a lewd smack, his eyes blown wide.

“You drive me fucking crazy, woman.” She snickers, tugging lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“So much for not caring, Miller.” Tess was right. Tess was definitely right.

[twst-drabbles]

Soulmates AU: Idia

Summary: You were born with a run-on sentence for a soulmate mark on your arm, from wrist to shoulder. Now you finally met the man that utters these words by a trashcan.

(I was requested and wrote this long number. Over 4000 words all written within the span of four days. I wrote this for @twst-charity. Not gonna lie, pretty proud that I wrote this much in that span of time. Been a while since I could do that, though I did end up pulling a muscle in my neck. I hope this is a fun read. It's also on ao3 as well. Right here.)

The writings you were born with were practically illegible at birth. The font was rather fancy, overly so, and the words circled around from your wrist to your shoulder so tightly that your family was convinced it was a giant birth mark and not the words of your soulmate.

But you grew and so did the spaces in those words. It was a pretty spiral, but as age continued to feed you wisdom, you felt that this position was deliberate. Because, as far as you knew, this first sentence could very well be the ramblings of someone going mad or already is. But first words are hardly something to build assumptions on, especially when it comes to the subject of your soulmate.

These words covering your arm are about a fictional character named Alexius von Tuveria en Ris. Well, at least you hope it’s fictional. It’s kind of a silly name to give to a kid. And also you’re not exactly up for having a soulmate that’s this, uh, verbose and opinionated about an actual person. You’ve been exposed to the deeper parts of the celebrity fan culture and you’re good with staying far away from it.

…Alexius von Tuveria en Ris doesn’t deserve any of this, though not as if he’d do anything about it if he saw since that prince is just too kind-hearted and honestly kind of cheesy, though cheesy doesn’t mean cringe and cringe is something normies are so immune to it almost makes me sick…

That was only part of the sentence on your arm. Your soulmate, where ever they are, they sure do talk a lot. Like, a whole lot. You tried repeating the sentence on your arm in just one breath and you had to practice a few years just to get it right. Strong lungs on that one, probably.

And a whole lot of unique factors to help narrow down the pool of who is and who isn’t your soulmate. Alexius von Tuveria en Ris is a pretty unique name by itself. But, the uniqueness of it did return disappointment, since searching online for a character with such a name yielded no results. You made it a habit to search at least once a week or so, just in case it was a series that has yet to exist.

You were also sort of relieved to find out that there was no royal family with a similar name. Though, that still didn’t rule out the possibility. For all you know, this could be a fake name someone chose for themselves.

Either way, this name will come to exist at some point, someone or something will be Alexius von Tuveria en Ris, and you’d have to make sure to be on top of that.

But, then you couldn’t, because suddenly you found yourself in a place called Night Raven College. One minute you were living your regular life, and the next you found duty after duty from your “oh so kind” headmage with a cat that doesn’t learn to listen when he should.

It was… an adjustment certainly. The grating egos of everyone here, the casual and not so casual use of magic that can and will kill you if it hits you in just the right way, and large restrictions on your finances rarely left you with more than a few complaints, but all you could do was grit your teeth and trudge on.

At least, despite all of these annoyances and difficulties, there are some silver linings to the found here. Magic itself was something of a marvel to witness, you won’t lie to yourself about that. You will never say it out loud for anyone to head though, because you know the minute you do, people like Grim will gloat and unintentionally belittle you with a, “Well, something as simple as that would look amazing to you, huh?”

And out of a need to never hear those words uttered by anyone, you decided to use one of your privileges to lock yourself in the computer lab. It’s after curfew, so most of the students not in remedial classes are at their dorms by now.

Next to you were a couple of spiral notebooks, the blue one opened and already filled to the brim with notes about basic magic mechanics. Sure, you can’t do a single lick of magic as far as you can tell, but you don’t want to make the blunder of relying on your preconceived notions of it.

Though, as with all studying, even on a subject as interesting as this, your brain starts to fuzz up and suddenly you can’t even retain the current paragraph. Your eyes kept skimming over the same words over and over. Finally, you huffed and slumped back in your chair, setting your pencil aside.

Though, before you decide to call it quits and rest for the night, you felt one more search would be interesting. You pushed up your sleeve until you found the name of Alexius von Tuveria en Ris on your forearm, and typed that into the blinking bar.

Hehe, the name looked a little funny in this cutesy font this search engine uses. You weren’t expecting anything honestly. You’ve already cut your losses with meeting your soulmate young. You’ve had cousins and other distant relatives that haven’t met their soulmates until they were in their seventies. Knowing how that bird-brained Crowley works, you’ll probably return back home when you’re at least in your forties. Or fifties.

He’s really taking his sweet-ass time, huh?

Either way, you pressed enter and stretched. Nothing to come of it and nothing to lose with this simple search, right? You’ve already been through the phase of obsessively searching every day back when you were younger and had too much time. At this point, it does no harm to search at least once. You mean, why not?

But, it was a hit. Several pages of hits. At the top of the pastel blue search engine was Alexius von Tuveria en Ris in all bold. In fact, from the title of the website, you’d say it was an entire site dedicated to this character.

Here it was. The very thing you’ve searching for, waiting for, was right in front of your eyes.

You didn’t say anything, you just clicked. Paragraphs and paragraphs of detailed information about this person–a fictional character–laid before you. You nearly ripped your sleeve up your arm as you scrolled down the page, looking between the screen and your skin as you confirmed that what you’re reading is correct and not just a huge coincidence that’s made to make fun of you for having hope.

The name matches, the background of isolating himself in his castle matches, the huge blow out after attempting to revive his Kingdom of Paradise matches. All of it matches your arm.

You let go of the mouse, eyes burning from staring at a white screen with black text for too long, and just sat. You stared up at the ceiling…

…and quietly seethed.

For months you’ve been wanting to go back home, and often in the middle of the night, you’d find yourself wishing you never got transported here in the first place. Some part of you buried deep was starting to believe that you would never go home, and if you knew that the option of exploring a magical place came with the consequence of never going home, you never would have taken it.

But now your arm and this screen was telling you that you had no choice but to come here. That it was destined, preordained. No matter how hard you fought, you were going to be whisked away.

It… it sucked, you will admit that.

But you sighed out all the doubts and breathed in realistic optimism. You came here one way, there has to be a way out. It happened once, so it’s logical that it would happen again.

And so, with a light stretching of your sore fingers and wrists, you clicked and read as much information you can. Absorbing the series that’s apparently been running for a good twenty years with a handful of remakes and one live action that flopped on its face.

Before you know it, it was way past the dead of night and encroaching on morning. You took a minute to stretched and rub at your strained eyes before packing everything up. You’re going to regret doing all this in the morning, when classes start, but what can you say? You like living in the moment.

You walked out, locked everything up with the keys Crowley entrusted you with, and started down the path towards your dorm. Sure, you do have permission to use the mirrors on campus, but you’re pretty sure you need someone with magic to be able to use the thing. Or you probably don’t, for all you know, but you’re not in the mood to test the theory.

You found yourself on a cross section at the road that served as a nice resting spot before heading to Sam’s shop. It had a couple of fancy black benches with gaudy gold legs, a fountain so large you’re glad you don’t have to clean it, and a lot of foliage for that beautiful view and clean air.

With all these sights nicely lit by the evenly spaced lamps to take in, instead your eyes settled on someone that chose to huddle by a trashcan. You heard crinkling and, at first, you thought this person was riffling through the trash. You got closer, and while you can’t say you were wrong, the only thing in this man’s hands was a poster.

Then, finally, you were within earshot.

“And just when I found the perfect poster, I find it in a trash can of all things, wrinkled up and thrown away because some ignorant idiot thought this was only worth as much as a piece of paper,”

Kind a rambler huh? Sounds like he’s having a bad day. Or night. Should probably just leave him alone.

…

Hold on a moment.

You pulled up your sleeve.

“Couldn’t have the decency to give this limited edition poster back for people like me, who truly appreciate the series, to own, but no of course not, it would be inconvenient, horrible that they would wrinkle the main character’s Kingdom of Paradise that he’s always dreamed of, Alexius von Tuveria en Ris doesn’t deserve any of this, though not as if he’d do anything about it if he saw since that prince is just too kind-hearted and honestly kind of cheesy, though cheesy doesn’t mean cringe and cringe is something normies are so immune to it almost makes me sick–AH there’s a tear because of course,”

You were twisting your arm this way and that, making very sure that this random man’s rant actually matched your words. You almost pulled a muscle as he continued, eyes and neck straining to read the words on your shoulders.

You lost your balance and caught yourself just as the man before you stopped his rant with a huff.

Before he could possibly start again, you walked right behind him and said, “So you’re the dude that inked up my arm.”

Ah, you didn’t really have any special words in mind, like a lot of your classmates back in your younger days. Yes, you’re buzzing a little with excitement, but you’re so tired and drained from another emotional high that you’re in a fog. Besides, you already confirmed that this person’s your soulmate, whatever pops out of your mouth will be just as unique.

“Eep!” A high little squeak of a yelp. The student–his jacket held Ignihyde designs on it–retreated his arms to his chest, like he’s ready to either lash out or curl into a ball.

He would’ve fell backwards if your legs didn’t stop his fall.

“Whoops,” you pushed him to his feet with a hand to his shoulder, “sorry about that. You okay?”

Only then did he finally turn. His hood fell from his face and unleashed an absolute bonfire of hair. A luminous bright blue that almost blinded you.

And suddenly, his hair turned an almost violent mix of pink and purple.

He blinked, then his eyes flickered from your face to his wrist, where your words are. The man opened his mouth but his voice didn’t scream so much as it whistled before dashed to the left. He sped crawled on all fours for a moment before finding his footing.

This man, whom you would eventually find out to be called Idia, ran away upon first meeting you, his soulmate.

You weren’t offended in the least. You can understand that being seen mumbling like a maniac by a trashcan isn’t the best way to be seen by your fated soulmate. So, with that in mind, you didn’t search out for him for about three days.

By day four, you got impatient and decided to hunt down for Idia since he has not even left a hint hint about wanting to meet you. A week would’ve been the original waiting time, but this college really takes a toll on you and you just want this done before you get dragged into another magical situation.

The first day, you waited by a classroom you knew Idia attended. Well, Idia’s tablet. Being a housewarden and not a regular student, it’s rather easy to stumble upon information about him. Egocentric students love to gossip when it’s framed to either make their dorm or themselves look better.

You saw a peek of a magical tablet and grabbed without hesitation.

“Ha?” You heard clicking and felt the tablet attempt to leave your hands. You turned it around and faced the built in camera.

“Hey,” you greeted as causally as you could, “Idia, right? Met you a few nights before–”

Another click, and suddenly your entire vision went white with a flash of light. You dropped the tablet.

By the time your eyes went back to normal, the tablet was gone and you were alone again.

“So, that’s how it going to be, huh?” You’ve had your fair share of runaways. In fact, your little group was mostly made of them, running away for one reason or another, like not wanting to go to class, or avoiding cleaning duties for a mess they’ve made. This was not a new situation for you.

If Idia thinks he can run away from you forever, he has another thing coming.

The next day, you found the tablet floating in the library. You got a ladder to grab it from the bottom, but you weren’t quiet enough when you climbed it. The tablet floated right past your fingertips and dashed out the door with a “Sorry!”

Well, at least he apologized. But you still want to talk!

Another day passes and you found the man physically just as you were about to walk out the classroom. He had a stack of papers in his hands, late assignments he had to turn in physically if he wanted a chance at passing apparently. He didn’t see you, so you retreated behind the door.

When you saw Idia’s figure pass by the door, you popped out and grabbed his shoulder.

“Idia,” you firmly said with a tightening grip on his frozen shoulder, “we need to talk.”

And you were meet with a tower of papers to the face and he was gone before you dug through the pile.

By that point, you were ready and willing to start dragging your other friends into the mix. You let this skittish soulmate of yours to run off the first few times because you didn’t want to stress him out too much. But, by this point in time, it would be better to throw caution to the wind if only so you two can actually sit down and have a talk.

But, by the next morning, before you could meet up with everyone, a robot kid you recognize as Ortho shot out of the sky and landed with surprising grace. At the price of leaves and dirt flooding your mouth.

“There you are!” His voice was loud but it wasn’t grating. It was a cute kind of loud, like he was happy to see you.

You spat on the ground and leaned against a tree, still groggy from waking up. “Ortho, right? Hello. You need something? I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“To make a plan to catch my big brother right?”

His accuracy left you stunned.

“Uh.”

“Then, please come with me!” Ortho grabbed your arm and enthusiastically, “I keep telling my brother to suck it up and meet you, but he just won’t!”

“I know that,” you gritted your teeth, feeling like your shoulder will pop out of its socket, “Mind telling me where you’re taking me though.”

“I’m taking you to–” Ortho paused, floated behind you and grabbed your shoulder, “Hold on, this will be faster. We’re going to Ignihyde!”

“Wha–?” But you were forced to eat your words, just when it was finally free of all dirt and leaves.

And before you know it, you were gently placed on your feet in front of the Ignihyde dorm.

“Huh.” If you delete the last few minutes from your mind, you’d say it was a pretty enjoyable ride. Quick, at least.

“So, future soulmate of my big brother,” You’re pretty sure he knows who you are, you’re not exactly a quiet presence with that monster fire cat always around, “I have to do other things, so you just have to go down these paths and you’ll be in front of his room! Just make sure he doesn’t run away, okay?”

Ortho even gave you a little note that straight up looked printed. A clear map of where Idia’s room is.

“Well, thanks,” you turned around to properly face him but Ortho was already blasting off into the sky with a wave.

You huffed out a laugh, just because the whole interaction was ridiculous, and went on your way. You don’t really have early morning classes to be late to, anyway. You just came early to prepare for chasing after Idia.

As much as you would like to take the time to admire the hallways of the Ignihyde dorm, you’re too eager to get this meeting over with.

And then you’re finally in front of Idia’s room. You reach out to knock but the door pulls open, as though avoiding your knuckles. Idia was there, hood over his head like he was going to sneak around again like the first time you’ve met him. He spotted you in a second and slammed the door right in your face.

You waited a few minutes just to see if some miracle would happen and Idia opens the door on his own.

He didn’t.

“I’m not moving from here, if you’re wondering.”

You heard a sharp gasp and then a heavy, shaky, defeated sigh.

“…of course you’re not…” And then heard the slide of fabric against the door before a soft thud at the bottom.

He sat down, and so you got yourself comfortable as well.

“So,” you leaned back on your hands, “you’ve been running away from me.”

“I have…” and then under his breath like he thought you wouldn’t hear, “…any normal person would give up but of course my soulmate would be more stubborn than that…”

You whistled and that caught his attention with a gasp.

“Hey, focus on me,” you knocked on the door for good measure, “Why were you running? That first meeting could not have been that embarrassing.”

“Says you,” his next words came out muffled, like he’s shrinking into his hoodie, “Of all the days to meet you, you just had to see me right next to a trash can like I was some kind of degenerate rat. Anyone would think I was a loser of a freak, stroking that wrinkled poster like that. Well, I’m not! Only true fans would love this series as much as I do. So if anything, you were probably seeing me at my best moment!”

“Huh.”

You can practically hear Idia deflate from behind the door. “’Huh?’ You say… Yeah yeah, think what you want, I can’t even begin to change it.”

You… have a doozy of a soulmate huh?

“Certainly didn’t help that you were flash banged me, almost made me fall down a ladder and threw papers in my face.”

Idia shrank further. “…sorry…”

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“Sorry!” It was a burst of a yell and you had to back up a bit, “I was terrified alright?! I mean, I played all sorts of scenarios and even made a game to prepare for this moment. I had all these scripts in my head and I thought I was ready to trigger the romance flag alright?! But instead, I was stuck in my own head and completely missed it! I messed up and I panicked! You have any idea how scary that is?! You weren’t supposed to see me like that! I was supposed to be at max level by the time I met you but instead, I’m just this unevolved mess!”

You opened your mouth but Idia cut in.

“Fate is inevitable, just as death is… I was going to met you regardless and I guess, I thought, that maybe I had more time. But I didn’t. So I just, wanted you to stay away until I thought I was going to be ready… Ha, either way, it’s my fault…”

…alright, how are you going to handle this? You’re not exactly the best when it comes to emotional comfort.

Well, may as well just use what you already have on hand. Or on arm.

“Didn’t Alexius von Tuveria en Ris think he was ready to rule his kingdom when he brought it back from the ashes?”

You heard a sputter. You continued.

“I mean, the dude was kind of young wasn’t he? Well, not like it matters, he brought it back and someone had to rule it whether he liked it or not.”

Then, you heard Idia actually honk. “No, that’s not what happened! Alexius von Tuveria en Ris wanted to bring back the Kingdom of Paradise not because he thought he was fit to rule it but because he thought it didn’t deserve that fate. It’s not his fault that he was put in that position when he brought it to life!”

Ah, there we go. Switching the subject, your best skill!

You egged him on. “But shouldn’t he have been prepared for that, then? The series did say that he likes to prepare for every thing imaginable because it was a kingdom he was reviving.”

“What the–that’s stupid! He can’t see the future! No matter how much he reads or writes, there’s no way he could’ve predicted that! And even if he did, it wouldn’t have mattered! He couldn’t have stopped the tragedy anyway!”

“Oh that’s right!” you clapped your hands, “Thanks for reminding me. Totally slipped my mind.”

“As long as you know. I hate it when people don’t pay attention.”

Huh, he sounds huffy. That’s cute.

“Sorry, it’s kind of hard to remember with all the stuff that happens in the latest Red Sky Arc, where Alexius just–”

You heard a hard slam against the door. “No spoilers! I haven’t gotten to that arc yet!”

You closed your mouth, almost biting your tongue in the process.

A few seconds, then a minute, and then you burst out laughing.

Idia, meanwhile, was stunned. “W-what? What did I do?”

“No no,” you relaxed, “that’s just the loudest you’ve been.”

“I… I guess that was a bit too loud.” The tone in his voice made him seem bashful. “But I’m seriously not at that part yet. I don’t want to get a head start just yet.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my mouth shut then.” You pushed yourself up and dusted your pants. “I think I’ll be taking my leave here. Don’t want to bother you too much. I just needed to hear an apology and an excuse.”

“Wait, what?”

You turned around, stuffing the map Ortho gave you into your pocket. “See you later, Idia.”

“Wait!” The door slammed open. You turned around.

Idia’s hair was pink at the tips, but at least he didn’t look like he was going to explode. He did look like he was going to collapse though. Poor man looked out of breath.

“I-I,” the pink began to climb upwards the longer he looked at you, “I, uh, I happen to have that season downloaded… on my PC… so if you want to, you know, update your out of date stuff then, maybe you could, you know… watch it with me?”

His head practically disappeared in his hoodie and hair, but you heard him clear enough.

You could tease him, but you don’t know each other well enough so…

You nodded, “Sure, I have time. A lot of time actually.”

That one is a bit of a lie, but you just want to spend time with Idia. You have a number of excuses on hand anyway. You’ll send one off right before settling down.

“Huh? Oh, uh” Idia moved to the side, holding the door like it’ll protect him from his feelings, “C-come in then.”

You stepped inside.

[changenameno]

Wild Ride PART 1

(Complete, link to the second part, ⬇️ down below)

Summary:
Having to share a car with your friends Sy and August, you and Walter make do. They won’t catch on, to what you’re doing in the backseat, right?

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Fem. Reader (Sy and August)

Warnings: 18+, cursing, unsafe driving, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, finger-fucking, dirty talk, MDNI (most of the Smut in the second part)

Word count: 1.2 K

A/N: Apparently I’m not able to fit a smutty fic in one chapter, so here we go with two parts, again. But at least it’s complete. Though it’s not proofread, any mistakes are my own. Please be kind, comments/reblogs are much appreciated…Thank you, hope you enjoy!❤️✨



! Neither Nomis, nor Walter Marshall, Syverson or August Walker are my creation!

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PART 1


You weren’t really excited about this wedding. Not that you weren’t happy for the couple. You were.


But you hadn’t had a free weekend alone with Walter in forever, and just missed being close to him. Also very importantly: not having had sex with him, in so, so long either. Ergo being a bit sulky at the fact that you didn’t even get alone-time in the car.

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Walter had surprised you yesterday with the news: “ So you know how August has bought that new car?”

Not liking where this was going, you slowly turned to your boyfriend, who was sitting next to you on the couch, “Yes, why?”

“Well we were talking earlier. And came to the conclusion that it would make more sense to car share, as we, him and Sy have to go to the wedding…,” drawing out the end as he caught on to your irritated facial expression. “Erm, that’s alright, is it not?” he added unsure.

You sighed deeply, technically speaking it was a perfect solution. But you really wanted to have some fun with Walter. Knowing it’d take some time getting there, you’d hoped for at least a quicky, in some abandoned parking lot or something. Seeing as you couldn’t do anything now, because Faye had a friend over for the weekend.

“Well yeah, of course that’s alright,” straining to keep your disappointment out of your voice and failing miserably. Walter knew you to well, raising his brow sceptically,” Mhhm yeah riiight, and I’m Cinderella waiting for her first kiss.”

Making your sour face, light up instantly at the mental imagery that statement had created. He smiled softly at you in return, patiently waiting for your explanation. Giggling you admitted,” Okay fine, I’d kinda hoped you and I could have a little time to ourselves….you know?”

It was his turn to sigh, cursing,” Damn. If I’d known you’d be up for that, I wouldn’t have agreed to car share.”

“Oooh, but Mister Marshall, by now you should know with you, I’m always …up…for…that,” you winked teasingly at him.

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August had picked up Sy first, because his house lay on the way to yours. When he drove up the driveway, your face fell, as you saw the car. More specifically the completely loaded up car. He rolled down the window greeting you both. ”Morning you two, jump right in.” Sy grinned at you from the passenger seat, waving briefly.

Still gaping at the car, you shook your head, “You’ve got to be kidding, what is that?!” Walter didn’t look too keen either, as August supplied you with; “Ah yeah a friend of mine moved and I hadn’t had time to remove all the boxes yet.”

Irritated, Walter remarked, “All the boxes? August, the whole damn car is packed to the roof! You do realise that there’s only one seat not occupied?”

August smiled slyly then nodded; “Well yeah, but I thought you two love birds could share the seat.” And as if that ended the argument, he just rolled his window up again.

Annoyed you glared at your boyfriend; “I’m not getting into that car! We have to drive at least four hours!” Walter signed, shrugging his shoulders, “I know, but I believe we don’t have much of a choice here.”

Nearly growling you answered,” Oh, I’m so gonna kill him.” The detective simply opened the car door, getting in behind the driver’s seat, waiting for you. Seething you made your way over and into the car. Settling down between Walters thick thighs, as best as you could. If there was a moment to curse your boyfriend’s muscled physique, it was definitely now.

Quite literally feeling completely boxed in, you somehow managed to put a seatbelt on. August gleaming blue eyes landed on yours as he pulled out of the driveway. Looking you up and down, taking in your dark blue dress with small white flowers on it. “You look quite stunning, love.”

You on the other hand, were having none of that, “Oooh, don’t push it.”

Sy ever the gentle intermediary, “I have to agree though, you look stunnin’, sugar.”

You huffed in response, but had to admit that all three men looked dashing themselves in their dark blue tuxedos.

Walter snaked an arm around your waist and rested his other hand on his thigh. Not wanting to argue any further you remained silent, resigning yourself to your fate, being squeezed in for the next four hours.

By now you had sat in idle silence for at least half an hour, while the guys had talked about this and that.

Until Sy turned back, beaming at you,” And what’s that grumpy face all ‘bout? Can’t only be the seating.” Damn, you thought no one would notice, that you’d been grumpy since before they’d picked you up. But of course, Sy being your best friend for god knows how long, would notice.

Trying to lighten up, your lips curled into a soft smile, nonetheless lying through your teeth as you answered,” Nothing really. Just tired I guess.” He didn’t look convinced, but knew better than to push, simply turning back to the front.

Suddenly the arm around your midsection, pulled you even closer. Walter leaned down, lips touching your ear, whispering against it,” You know, you can be quite the brat, when you don’t get what you want.” Lightly shivering due to the lewdness of his comment. Heat spread through your body, breathing back just as softly,” Mmmh, well and whose fault is that?”

The resounding growl he let out, travelled all the way down to your panty-covered cunt, which immediately began quivering with want.

Felling his hot breath when he answered, “Looks like someone needs reminding, of who is in charge.” The hand that had been on his own thigh, slowly slid over to yours, inching up from your knee and under the hem of your dress. Already turned on but at the same time alarmed, you took hold of his hand, before it could travel up any further.

“Wait, wait, what if they see,” you gestured towards the front of the car, where Sy and August still chatted. At that Walter pulled back slightly, straitening up. Disappointment settled deep in your stomach. No, why would he stop?

But Walter had no intention of stopping, he just came up with a plan to distracted his two friends best he could. Mentioning the latest game. He knew that would have them quarrel for hours on end at times. And as always they started arguing right away.

Smiling up at your boyfriend you purred; “That worked like a charm.”

“Yeah. And now, where were we?”, his pupils blown wide, as he knew exactly what would follow.

 

 

PART 2

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Taglist:

If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know! And if you want to be taken off (my taglist), feel free to tell me! ❤️✨

[coffincestuous]

kit9 progress report #9

happy september!!! progress report time!!

to start, we’re given these images:

ashley doesn’t look her best here :( she’s pissed off. there are bags under her eyes. she has a bruise on her face (or blood?). this is not a girl who is having a good time

then we have… this? we’re back to the woods!! i wonder who Square Head and Cone Head are?? i wonder what ashley SAID!!! and what’s with the colorful flowers at the bottom??

(not to mention, they could totally sacrifice these people, and pretty easily too!)

next, we finally have some development progress reporting from kit9!! apparently episode 3A is super long & they’re trying to find a place to end the episode and start another one (4), but they haven’t been able to. they’re adding another several months to their estimated release date, which was previously “sometime in 2024” and is now “sometime in 2025… maybe”

they say, once again, that episode 3 (A and B) will be bigger and longer than episodes 1 and 2 combined, so episode releases won’t be as quick as they had been previously

finally, we have an episode three preview clip!!! it’s titled “voicemails” and the thumbnail is julia on the phone

a summary of the video for those who don’t want to watch, or can’t:

julia and andrew are in julia’s room. she tells him to listen to the voicemails she’s been getting on a daily basis. he declines, saying he’s “had [his] fill,” but julia insists

julia thinks that they’re from ashley, but she doesn’t know for sure because the voice is distorted. the voicemails contain graphic descriptions of julia’s “oncoming, painful and slow death” and then talk about how andrew would rather have sex with ashley than with julia. julia is disappointed in andrew’s lack of reaction to the upsetting content of the voicemails, and implies that he was previously upset about julia receiving these messages, but now he doesn’t care

she brings up the fact that she thinks ashley is sending these messages to her, pointing out that only ashley would use the word “floozy,” and andrew (probably lying) denies thinking that ashley has sent these.

julia disagrees, asking if he really thinks that some girl from college is pretending to be his sister and claiming that they’re a little too close, just to get julia to break up with him? he counters with “it’s working, isn’t it?” julia again disagrees, saying that she really does think that ashley is sending these messages. andrew then mentions that people teased him and ashley in high school for “keeping it in the family.” julia says that his relationship with ashley can seem incestuous, to which andrew reacts by slamming the phone back on the receiver, and getting really pissed at julia

julia gets scared of him, which makes him backtrack very quickly and clairify that he’s upset that julia would “think so lowly” of him. he says that he thinks she’s a wonderful person, while she thinks that he’s a “piece of shit” who “probably fucks his sister.”

julia then starts crying, denies thinking that he and ashley are having sex, and apologizes for starting a fight. andrew hugs her and says it’s fine, it wasn’t a fight, but he’ll “forgive her” either way

finally, andrew decides that they should “stay in after all” and it ends with julia saying she forgets what she even wanted to talk to andrew about

it’s fun to see andrew’s more… “genuine” side, even if he’s kind of an asshole. i guess “authentic” is a better term there. i think there’s an interesting contrast between how he acts with julia versus how he acts with ashley, and i’m so glad that we get to see more of him and julia!!! his lack of reaction to the threats against julia is so, so telling. it makes me think back to the part of episode 2 where andrew can bring ashley into the cult party and the cultist calls ashley a bitch and he immediately gets in the cultist’s face to defend her. there are some similarities between how he acts when he has upset each girl, but he doesn’t excessively compliment ashley when they fight. he doesn’t have to worry about ashley crying when he’s rough with her. he doesn’t have to worry about ashley breaking up with him because they’re not dating and she’s his sister

(chosen family is just as valid as blood family, but with andrew and ashley, their codependency shines)

i love how manipulative andrew is. don’t get me wrong, i’d absolutely hate him irl, but i love him as a character. he’s an asshole. he’s charming. he knows what to say to get people (like julia) to feel guilty of accusing him of something he’s thought about on more than one occasion. he knows that if he acts mad towards julia, that she’ll start fawning and apologizing, and he uses that to his advantage. he is not normal (affectionate)

and i’m glad we get solid “proof” that andrew is just as bad as ashley. before, people have argued that there’s plausible deniability, but now?? omgggg. especially when he’s hugging her, saying to julia the things he wishes he could say to ashley instead… they make me crazy. absolutely insane. i am so fucking excited for episodes 3 and 4

[justmeinadaze]

Aftercare: Roleplay (Steddie X You)

A/N: I am not ok 🫠 God this was fun to write lol Enjoy <3

Warnings: Dom Steddie and Sub reader, Stalker style role-play so rough language and smut, degradation, slapping, some knife play (they rip off her clothes, the don't cut her), dirty talk, choking, spanking, restraint, and of course wonderful aftercare with fluff near the end.

If this isn't your kind of thing dont continue to read! It is consensual and the reader does allow them permission to do this but the role-play is played out like it isn't. NOTE I would NEVER write a version of these boys who wouldn't stop if Y/N said the safe word.

Word Count:3304

“I will never understand why you guys like that crap.”, Steve whines as you three walk out of the theater.

“Oh, come on, Stevie. Scary movies just make you feel more alive you know?” You jump around them enthusiastically making them swoon. 

Since you three had started your relationship, they noticed a big difference in you; mostly you were a lot happier. Your smile rarely left your face especially when they came home from work. 

“This coming from the guy who put stalking her in his roleplay notes.”, Eddie chuckled. 

“Seriously, I was surprised when I read how turned on it made you.”

“Why?”

“I mean, you? Being all scary stalker intimidating? Eddie, oh yeah. But you, baby? You don’t even like the genre.”

“I feel challenged…”, Steve playfully glares at you as you guys make it to his car. 

“Maybe it is.”, you reply coyly. 

“Are we really doing this?”, Eddie claps. “Yay!”

“But you can see him scaring and intimidating you?” The boy chuckles as he points towards his friend. 

“What’s wrong, Daddy? Don’t think you can do it?” His whole posture changes as he stands to his full height. “I’ll make you both a deal. You have free reign to play out your little horror movie stalker fantasy anyway you see fit. No matter what you do or when you do it, I’ll play along.”

You were toying with him, trying to rile him up. You knew they could both be intimidating because you felt it when you dropped into your headspace. Hell, even when they weren’t being rough with you, the gentle aftercare had a power dynamic that made you feel small in a good way. If anyone even tried to hurt you, they would make them pay. 

That being said, imagining them turning that intimidation on you in this way, had your pussy clenching. You were desperate to feel the full force of what they could wield so you continued to poke the bear. 

“Honestly, though, I see myself laughing more than anything.”

Steve blinked down at you as his gorgeous smile began to fade, his jaw tightening in a way you had never seen before. His eyes locked with yours as he slowly stepped forward, knocking into you with his chest. You tried to plant your feet to keep him from moving you but he was too strong. You stumbled slightly till your back hit his car; both his arms gradually coming up to place his palms on either side of you blocking you from going anywhere. You swallowed nervously as his face leaned down to meet your own, biting your lip to hide the moan as his nose grazed your cheek. 

“I guess we’ll have to see won’t we, honey?”, he murmured in a gruff tone. Suddenly, he kissed your forehead, releasing you from his blockade as he opened the door for you with that signature Harrington smile. “Get in, babe. Let’s go home.”

#################

Two weeks had passed and nothing had happened. You thought maybe they had forgotten about it or after planning it decided they no longer wanted to play that game. You were slightly disappointed but didn’t want to push them into anything that may make them uncomfortable so you three continued your relationship like normal. 

Today had been a particularly rough day at work and you couldn’t wait to get home to relax with the boys. When you entered the apartment however, everything was silent. After looking at the stove clock, you gnawed your bottom lip in worry. It was after 9pm and even if Steve worked a late shift, they were both home by now. 

As soon as you picked up the cordless to dial Family Video and the record store to check on them, the phone came to life in your hand. 

“Hello?”

“Hey! Oh, shit. I think I dialed the wrong number.”

“Steve? What are you doing? Where are you guys?”

“Fuck. I already fucked this up. Eddie and I were going to do the stalker thing tonight. Jesus! Ed, I’m so sorry, man.”

You giggle when you hear Eddie grumble something at his friend. “It’s ok, Daddy. You guys can always try again.” The handle of the front door began to jiggle. “Did you forget your key?”

“What do you mean, babe?”

“You’re trying to come in, right?”

“No? Eddie and I in the car outside.” You freeze just as your hand reaches for the knob as it jiggles again. “Baby? Is someone trying to get in?!”

Loud pounding startles you as you shriek in surprise. 

“D-D-Daddy? Sir?”

Steve snickers as the banging gets louder, your heart pounding with fear. You’ve completely dropped in and they know it to. 

“IS someone trying to get in, little girl? I promise if you open the door now my friend and I will go easier on you.”

“I-I’m not afraid of you.”

“Hm but you will be. Now be a good girl and open the door.”

“No.”

“Your call.”

The phone abruptly disconnects as you drop it and run to your bedroom. The front door flies open as soon as you find a hiding space under your bed. Covering your mouth to stifle the fear in your throat, your eyes widen as you see two sets of boots wonder into the living room. 

“Where the fuck is she?”, Eddie growls. “Come on, pretty girl! Don’t make this harder than it has to be!”

“No, Ed. This is fun. Little girl wants to play hide and seek.” 

You watch as they split up to search for you starting with their own rooms before stalking towards yours. You hold your palm over your mouth tighter as you listen to them talk. 

“You really think she’s stupid enough to hide in here?”

“Of course, she is.” The bed dips down as Steve takes a seat. “God, I can’t wait to find her though. I’m going to fuck her so hard she won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

“I love your ambition, Harrington. As long as I can cum down her throat, I’m happy.”

“Do you think we should let her cum to?”

“Oh of course. Sluts like her fucking grip your dick hard when they cum. It feels so fucking good.”, Eddie sighs in pleasure at the thought. “We won’t be able to do any of that until we find her though. Which actually reminds me…”

The boy abruptly drops on his heels, tilting his head to the side as he finds your frightened frame. “Hey, little one. I guess you’re right, Steve. She IS that stupid.”

You yelp as you feel hands roughly grab your ankles and pull you out from under the bed. Fingers yank back on your hair and lift you to your knees. “I don’t know why you even bother hiding, baby. You know one way or another we are going to take what’s ours. You just make it harder with all this foreplay.”

Eddie leans down, wrapping his hand around your throat as he smirks. “What’s the matter, little girl? I thought you said you were going to be laughing.”

He tugs you to your feet and you immediately push against him with your hands, trying to pull yourself free from his grasp. Your hand collides with his cheek and he responds by slapping you harder before throwing you onto the mattress. 

“Oh! Baby girl likes to play rough! We can do rough, honey.”

Steve unbuckles his belt and while Eddie holds your arms above your head, the other boy ties it around your wrists. You freeze when you feel cold steel touch you face. 

“Don’t. Move.”, the metalhead growls. 

He grabs your shirt aggressively in his fist as he cuts it and your pants off your body with the knife before passing it to Steve. Gripping your throat again, he slides his fingers between your folds into your dripping core. 

“I should have known you’d fucking enjoy this. No panties and you’re soaked…such a fucking whore.” Eddie releases your throat to lightly smack your face again. “Keep your legs open!”

Your eyes roll back as his fingers thrust into you at a fast pace as the sound of your slick fills the room. He abruptly pulls his digits out of your pussy, hitting you between your legs before rolling you on to your stomach. 

He pumps into you again, pushing three fingers in making you groan at the stretch. Steve kneels by your face and roughly yanks your hair. “Look at yourself.”, he commands as he points to your full-length mirror in the corner of your room. “Look at how much you’re enjoying this.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel the coil about to snap but his hand aggressively pinches your cheeks as he shouts next to your face. “Open your fucking eyes and look! Watch yourself cum on his fucking fingers, you dirty slut! Allowing two strangers to take you so easily. You enjoy this don’t you? Tell me!”

“I-I like this…fuck… I’m…”

“That’s right, pretty girl. There you go.”, Eddie coos as he slaps your ass. Steve continues to grip your cheeks, holding your head towards the mirror as came.

Your head fell against the sheets, trying to catch your breath as Eddie climbed off the bed to remove his clothes. His friend rose to his feet, lifting your hips so your ass was in the air. The metalhead jumped back onto the mattress, spanking you again as he leaned down to spit into your cunt.

As he started to push himself inside you, you began to crawl away feeling overwhelmed by the intense pleasurable feeling of just his tip alone. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” Eddie’s hands roughly gripped your hips as he held you in place. “Stevie, you want to help me here?”

Steve grabbed your hair, sliding his jeans and boxers down his legs. 

“Open.”, he commands, tugging on your hair when you don’t comply. “Open your fucking mouth!” 

Eddie uses the distraction to sheath himself inside of you and as you gasp at the intrusion Steve shoves his cock in your mouth. 

“Why do you fight it, honey? You know you’re loving this, right, Ed?” The man smacks your behind and you moan around the other boy’s length. “Fuck that feels so fucking good.”

“Jesus, Y/N.”, Eddie grunts. His chest falls against your back as his hand grips your throat. “You like being used by us, don’t you? You tell us no but your pussy doesn’t fucking lie. You’re making a mess all over my cock right now.”

Steve holds your head against him as you gag; Eddie grinding his hips harder against yours. The man steps back as the metalhead tugs you to your knees against him, gripping your throat tighter. 

“Tell me, baby. Tell me you love way my cock feels.”

“I-I-I… fuck…I love the way…your cock feels.”

“Cum for me. Show me how much you love my dick tearing you open.” Your eyes shut as you throw your head back against his shoulder, tremble against him as you cum. “Good-Good girl. Now—mmm—get that pretty mouth ready because I’m going to…to cum down your throat and your… going to fucking swallow it like a good slut.”

He pushes your lower half back down against the bed, pumping into you roughly. Abruptly, he pulls out of you, flipping you on to your back, and straddles your face with his knees placed on either side. After shoving his cock into your mouth, he thrusts his hips till you feel his seed hit your tongue. “Swallow!” You flash him your tongue showing him you had done what he asked. 

As soon as he climbed off you, Steve tugged on your ankles bringing you closer to him. Your body twitches as he glides the head of his cock through your dripping folds, chuckling when you moan as he circles it around your clit. 

“Do you want my dick, baby?”

“Y-yes, please.”

He leans over your fucked out frame and smacks your face before gripping it between his fingers. “I can’t fucking hear you, little girl. Louder.”

“Yes, Steve, please!”

A cocky smile spread along his lips as he breaches your entrance. True to his word, he thrust into you at an almost animalist pace, hitting every sensitive spot inside you and then some having you see stars. 

His chest fell to yours as sloppily kissed your lips, continuing to roll his hips into yours. 

“This pussy belongs to us. No one else can fucking have you.”

You whimpered when you felt the belt on your wrists tighten and the cold steel of the knife brush against your cheek. 

“Because if anyone else even tries to take you away from us, we’ll make them regret it.”, Eddie grins as he hovers over your face before kissing your lips as well. 

Steve pushes up on his hands as he pounds into you harder, feeling your pussy clench around him. Your back arches and the metalhead quickly covers your mouth with his palm as you cum harder than you ever had before.

A sarcastic smirk flickered across his face as his forehead fell against yours. “Beg me to cum inside you, honey.”

“Pl-please, cum inside of me.”

His fingers come to wrap around your throat again as his eyes penetrate yours angrily. “Make me believe it, little girl.”

“Please, Steve. I-I-I want you to fill me up. I need it, PLEASE!”

Steve’s eyes closed as he released you, his head falling to the side as his thrusts became sloppier and you felt him warm your insides. 

Your eyes shut as you nestled your nose against into his hair. Hands gently held your arms as they removed the belt from around your wrist. Lips tenderly kissed their way up your limbs to your shoulder before Eddie’s much softer voice filled your ear. 

“You did so well, sweetheart. Our beautiful girl. There’s no rush here. Take your time and whenever you’re ready we’re going to take a bath, ok?”

“Can I…have some water?”, you ask in hoarse voice. 

“Yeah, baby. Of course. I’ll be right back.”

You wince as you feel Steve pull out of you, rolling to your side as he props himself on his elbow and delicately brushes some stray hairs out of your damp, sweaty face.

“Did I convince you that I could be ‘scary stalker intimidating’?”

You giggle as your eyes open to meet his. “Yeah, you did. You BOTH surprised me actually.”

“Alright, sweetheart. Sit up and drink this.”

They held on to you as you shakily raised yourself to a seated position. “Can, um, would you mind…”

Eddie smiles as he brings the bottle to your lips and slowly tips it back. As soon as you finish, he passes the rest to his friend who chugs it back before placing it on your bedside table.

“I’m ready for that bath now.”

“Good cause you smell.”, he teases as you laugh at him. 

Steve grins as he runs ahead of you both to get it ready. Eddie lifts you into his arms and you keen into his neck as you both wait. The man lowers you in carefully before they join you and you happily sigh as they clean your aching body. 

You notice someone is lingering at your wrists a while and turn to find the metalhead massaging the imprints the belt had left in your skin. 

“Did you like it, Y/N? We were a little nervous when planning this because we didn’t want to trigger something for you by hitting you too hard or anything.”

“We figured though you would use the safe word if you were uncomfortable.”, Steve follows as he leans back against the porcelain. 

“Yeah, no, I liked it a lot. I think what helped push me there was thinking Harrington actually fucked up.” You laugh as they chuckle along with you. “Um, I, thank you for…hearing me about…not being too violent. If you had tried to cut me, I probably would have used the safe word.”

“Honey, you don’t have to thank us for something like that.”

“And we would never hurt you like that. We aren’t really into that kind of thing either. We thought about using a fake knife but we thought it added to the scene if we could tear off your clothes which, by the way, I will buy you a new outfit tomorrow.”

“Oh, Eddie, baby. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t HAVE to. I want to.” You beam up at him as you kiss his cheek. 

“Did you two like it? Stevie?”

“I did. I…like watching you…submit to me. To us.” 

A shaky moan leaves your chest at his words. “Yeah? What else did you like?”

“I loved feeling your pussy drip all over me.”, Eddie whispers in your ear.

Your finger glide between your legs as you rub them against your clit.

“I still love the way those big, beautiful eyes look up at me when I fuck you.” Steve leans forward till his nose grazes yours. 

“Oh and that little voice you like so much, man. Hearing you tell me you love the way my cock splits you open…”

“That’s right, Ed. The precious, tiny, submissive voice reminding us that she knows what’s ours.”

Steve replaces your fingers with his thumb as he plays with your nub while Eddie sucks on your neck. 

“Who does your pussy belong to, baby?”

“Fuck…you two. M-my pussy and body are yours.” Your breath hit his lips as you pant out moans. “I love you both so much.”

He leans forward, connecting his mouth with your own as you came. One of your arms reached up to wrap around the other boy’s neck as you pulled his lips to your own. 

Steve rose to his feet bringing you with him as Eddie followed. He ran the towel obnoxiously through your hair making you laugh as he smiled down at your gorgeous face. “I love you to, honey. Did you want to watch a movie tonight? Maybe something light.”

“That’s no fun.”, Eddie grinned as he pushed his old high school Hellfire shirt over your head and you held onto his shoulders as you stepped into your panties. “We also bought some quick made meals for tonight so you don’t have to wait too long for dinner.”

“Good because I’m starving.” 

The boy kisses your forehead starting to head for the kitchen before he pauses and turns back to kiss your lips. “I love you to.”, he chuckles as he runs off to complete his task. 

Steve picks you up and places you on the couch. 

“How about Back to the Future?”, you ask and he smiles at your suggestion. 

Eddie jumps over the back of the couch and hands you a bowl of microwavable food they know you like. Thanking him, you sling your legs over his lap as Steve comes to sit beside you so you can lean against him. Halfway through the movie, the metalhead lays down and hugs your legs to his chest as you play with his hair. Laughing when you hear soft snores, you turn to Steve so you both could tease him only to find he had fallen asleep to. His arm was draped over your chest as his head hung back over the sofa. 

You felt like you wanted to cry as ran your hands delicately over them both. You had spent most of your dating life in and out of awful relationships. How had you been so blinded to the two men right in front of you? 

Smiling to yourself, you closed your eyes and fell asleep in their embrace wishing you could pause this moment so the three of you could stay like this forever.

[gloriousburden]

A few types of MCU Loki fans I’ve encountered/noticed being in the fandom for over three years now:

DISCLAIMER: DON’T TAKE THIS TOO SERIOUSLY PLEASEEEE IT’S LIGHTHEARTED!! Some of these things apply to me as well, and some don’t lol. Doesn’t necessarily apply to everyone it’s all just for giggles.

The Lokius shipper Series Fan:

- Usually younger Gen Z. Can be anywhere from 14 to 23 years old. They’re younger teenagers most of the time.

- Heavily on TikTok but also on Pinterest/Twitter.

- Got into the MCU/Loki more recently. Either from the Series, or from Ragnarok.

- For some reason, wholeheartedly believes that one Tumblr post from like ten years ago that states Loki is 16/17 in human years. Even though that’s not canon at all and it does not work like that.

- Favorite depiction of Loki tends to be the Variant/Ragnarok. Sometimes Avengers.

- Almost ALWAYS a fan of Good Omens or OFMD.

- Obviously… Ships Lokius.

- Very anti Sylvie/Sylki, but LOVES Mobius.

- EXTREMELY anti Thorki, even though not a lot of people ship them anymore.

- Spreads a lot of misinformation. Such as taking the fact that Marvel confirmed that the Scepter influenced Loki, and mistaking that with them 100% confirming the theory of Loki being brainwashed by Thanos.

- Thinks Loki’s eyes are green???

- Newer to fandom in general.

- Doesn’t talk a whole lot about the series outside of the ships/fanon discourse.

- Making Loki tree/Yggdrasil jokes CONSTANTLY.

- Either thinks that Loki before the series was completely evil, or an angel. No in between.

- “For you, for all of us 🥺” / “Your savior is here!”

- Often forgets/doesn’t remember the fact that Loki/OG Loki are two different characters, and groups them together.

- Either a Swiftie who likes to constantly joke about when Taylor and Tom dated for 3 months like 8 years ago and also associates a lot of her Songs/Lyrics with Loki, or is someone who has a bit more of an Alternative taste in Music/Fashion.

- Doesn’t really talk about Thor that much, or really wants him and Loki to reunite.

- They’ve probably seen other movies including Tom like Crimson Peak, Skull Island, and High Rise. The more popular ones.

- Owns a lot of TVA related merch.

- “He’s not Odin’s son, or Laufey’s son… He’s Frigga’s son 🥺” or insists on calling Loki by “Laufeyson.”

- In Fanon, sort of treats Loki as a very normal, modern human, and not a god from an entirely different realm.

- Has either dropped the Series/their love of Loki a few months after the Series ended for the “next best thing”, or is currently still raving about all of it.

- Quite immature about other’s opinions/perspectives on Loki/or even people who ship the opposite ship from their own. This is mainly because they’re younger or because they really like their Fanon idea of Loki/Which ship should be Canon.

- Has some questionable headcanons/opinions of their own on Loki.

- Loves Frigga.

- Hates Odin.

The OG Loki fan who’s been a fan of him since 2011/2012, but is a bit more casual about his characterization:

- Usually a Millennial/in their late twenties or mid thirties. May even be in their fourties.

- Has been here for a good while, and saw just about every movie featuring him as well as other MCU movies in the theater when they first came out. Was probably a younger adult/older teenager when Avengers came out.

- Fanfic writer!!

- Favorite depiction of Loki tends to be Ragnarok, TDW, or Avengers.

- Mainly reside on Tumblr/AO3 but also on Twitter from time to time.

- “The Sun will shine on us again.” / “Love is a Dagger.”

- Some depict Loki in their Fanfics in a Smutty/BookTok YA Fantasy Novel style. Some in other ways. They also have a lot of fun with their Fics! So many AUs.

- They are carrying the Loki x Reader tag, I won’t lie. 🫡

- Doesn’t necessarily love the Series, but also doesn’t necessarily hate it. Does prefer the OG Loki they know and love over the Series and had a few disappointments with the Series, though.

- MAJOR Hiddlestoner. Some may like Tom more than they like Loki. Have watched his entire filmography and then some.

- A lot of them have really cool Loki related tattoos.

- Collects a lot of merch. Both from the Series, as well as more OG Loki merch. Also owns about fourty Tom magazines.

- Probably has met Tom/owns an autograph or something signed by him.

- Usually ships Loki with Sigyn, Jane, Tony, or an OC they’ve had since 2013. Honestly, I don’t personally see them that often anymore, but may ship Thorki. Does not really ship Lokius/Sylki whatsoever, or uses Sylvie as a bit of a self insert in Fics.

- Sometimes also a huge fan of Bucky/The Winter Soldier or Sebastian Stan. Associates Bucky and Loki a lot especially in Fics.

- Some are also fans of Star Wars who love Kylo Ren.

- Actually they like a lot of other morally grey characters.

- Probably has a pet named after Loki.

- Feels deeply for Loki, and relates to him in certain ways. Really likes humanizing him in their fics. Loves the more vulnerable side of him.

- Loves Frigga.

- Hates Odin.

The Loki purist/“He’s literally me” Fan:

- Anywhere from 16 - 28 years old. May be a bit older than that. Usually Mid/Older Gen Z, or younger Millennial.

- Has either grown up loving Loki, or became a fan a bit more recently.

- Favorite depiction of Loki tends to be TDW, but obviously can be any of the three OG depictions of him.

- LIVES on Tumblr. A bit of an extinct species elsewhere, but some may also be on Twitter.

- #1 Loki defenders. Very protective of/sensitive about how he is depicted not only in Canon, but also in Fanon. Usually deemed as harsh by series fans/non series haters whenever they criticize the Series or Ragnarok, but in reality, deeply relates to Loki and takes it very personally when he is depicted inaccurately. They see themselves in him, and are so, so, SO tired of seeing him mischaracterized. But also can be genuinely harsh at times. I’ve been guilty of that.

- Either heavily believes the “Thanos Brainwashed Loki” theory, or completely rejects it.

- “I never wanted the Throne. I only ever wanted to be your Equal.” / “Trust my Rage.”

- Very creative. Creates Art of Loki, Fanfics, Edits, Cosplays him, etc…

- Sometimes weirdly resembles him in ways??? LOL. Taking “He’s literally me” literally

- Has a more Alternative taste in Music, Fashion, Aesthetics, etc..

- They either see Loki as their bff, their life partner, or as an enigma to observe. Or all of the above.

- Pretty into Norse Myth, and likes incorporating aspects of it creatively, or when talking about Loki.

- Has a good amount of Fandom experience, and does not tend to argue with other Loki purists/OG Loki fans over petty things. Because at the end of the day… it’s just Tumblr. And we usually all have a common middle ground. Or, is constantly arguing with others.

- They don’t really ship Loki with anyone, but if they do… it’s usually Sigyn or Thor. Or someone really random.

- Either really enjoys depicting Loki in a more Feminine/Neutral form, and wishes his fluidity was depicted in the MCU, or doesn’t talk about it all that much.

- Single handedly keeping the memory of Loki (prior to Ragnarok) alive. 🫡

- Loves the comics, or hasn’t touched a single one.

- Disliked Taika Waititi before it was cool.

- Lost complete trust in the MCU after the handling of Loki’s characterization in Ragnarok, and had no hope in the Series when it was first announced. Or… really hoped it would be our last hope.

- Either deems Thor as the origin of all evil, or actually likes him.

- Wishes it was still 2013 everyday of their lives.

- Either respects/likes Tom to a certain extent, or really does not like him.

- Has a few really cool merch items, or has a lot of everything and anything they can find that doesn’t include Ragnarok/The series. Usually, they DIY their merch.

- Needs to emulate him at any given moment and in any way possible.

- Likes Frigga, but acknowledges that she has messed up in ways. Or really does not like her, period.

- Hates Odin.

The… Male MCU casual/dudebro who strictly lives on TikTok/Instagram/Twitter and did not really like Loki that much until the Series finale came out and thinks Loki is a Sigma Male who dropped everything in order for his friends and his… “Girl” to live:

- ????? Wtf

- Okay I added this one more as a joke because obviously they’re not Loki fans, but…

- Anywhere from ages 15, to 24. No older than that.

- Definitely disregarded Loki’s character before the Series. Also due to him having a fanbase where Women/Girls are the majority. Now Loki is the best MCU character and has the best arc out of everyone else. 🤦🏻‍♀️

- Wholeheartedly believes that Loki was a narcissist/was overreacting about everything he’s been through, or believes that Loki is an angel now because he had a “Redemption Arc”.

- Has never picked up a single Loki comic.

- Jokes a lot about Loki “loving” himself (Sylki kiss).

- Calls the Series “Peak Fiction” just because the rest of the bullshit the MCU has been putting out was absolute garbage, and also because they haven’t really watched anything else.

- If you as an actual Loki fan correct them on any of their bullshit, they act like they know more than you because they loved the series. How could anyone hate it?

- Makes self insert memes/tries to project onto Loki in the absolute worst ways possible.

- Worships the ground that Michael Waldron walks on. Though, they all hated Multiverse of Magic..

- “Let time pass…” / “I know what kind of god I have to be. For you, for all of us.” (Once again.)

- Similarly to our Lokius shipper Series Fans… they do not realize that Loki/the Variant are literally two different people.

- Loves Mobius JUST because he is portrayed by Owen Wilson.

- Also very annoying about Loki being confirmed bisexual in the Series.

- Really wants not only Thor and Loki to reunite, but also Hela.

- Hated the earlier Thor movies, loved Ragnarok, hated Love and Thunder.

- Probably thinks the treatment of Thor in Endgame was funny af.

- Who’s Frigga?

- Loves Odin probably. (Hehe)

[booksndpoetry]

Of Blue Skies and Sparkling Eyes

A Kim Seungmin Fanfic

m.list

A/N: I don't know what prompted me to write this, this fic wrote itself, faster than my other ones. Maybe my bias is showing. It's embarrassing how I become shy, reading my own writing. Like what the heck!

WC: 2.09k words

Characters: All of Skz and their S/O's.

Genre: A little bit of angst, but mostly fluff

Triggers/Warnings: Mentions of overthinking and spiralling, implications of anxiety.

It was a pleasant day, the sky fully clear and the air cool. You weren’t surprised, you were in Paris, after all. You would believe anyone if they said that the weather was a reflection of your current mood, and you wouldn’t mind either.

You were meeting your friends, eight of your closest companions. Thinking about it, you laugh. With how much you know them, the word “friends” seems to poor a substitute to describe them. After a gruelling two years of being apart, the causes being responsibilities and work, all of you were finally going to assemble under one roof for the holidays. Even if all of you talked over the phone, it didn’t suffice.

God, you couldn’t wait. You missed your friends and their significant others too. You were surprised how quickly you bonded with all of your friends’ partners. Well, all except Seungmin’s, because he didn’t have anyone. Whether you were relieved or disappointed because it was only a matter of time, you didn’t know. Not then. 

The moment you step into the vacation house that they’ve rented for the holidays, you're pulled into a hug by Chan, words unnecessary, and nothing matters except your little world. All of you retreat to the living room and they resume their game of Uno. You grin seeing Chan’s wife beat him minutes later, Felix and his girlfriend cackling with his defeat. Chan just meets your eye and smiles, looking to his wife. You smile back, and let them know that you’re going to freshen up. They wave at you and make your way down the long corridor, into one of the bedrooms, the door wide open.

 Han, Hyunjin and their girlfriends are taking turns to paint each other’s’ nails inside and they’re having fun, judging by Han’s loud voice and the sounds of laughter. As soon as Han’s girlfriend spots you, she drags you in, and without even waiting for your greeting, takes your hand and begins painting your nails. She finishes in record time, and now your nails have a shiny coat of black, applied so neatly you know you won’t be able to apply it even with all your best efforts.  Han splutters before saying, ”So you really do like her more than me. You didn’t even hesitate to ditch me when she came in” and dramatically starts sing “Goodbye, my love” and Hyunjin and Han’s girlfriend kick him from where they’re seated on either side of him on the bed. “Ow” he mutters, rubbing his side.

You giggle and fall into Hyunjin’s girlfriend’s lap and he sighs, “You’re really out here trying to steal all our girlfriends aren’t you?” he asks cheekily while his girlfriend hides her face behind him.

“I can’t help that I’m this charming now, can I?” you stick your tongue out childishly and get up patting the lap you were leaning on.

“I love you” you tell her, looking dead serious, “…more than I like him”.

“You little menace” he lunges, a minute too late as you throw yourself out that door and bolt towards the kitchen, which has been the biggest source of noise, since you’ve stepped foot into the house. Hyunjin thankfully gives up chasing you, and instead wraps his hands around his girl’s shoulders. 

 The kitchen was where actual chaos occurred. So, you weren’t surprised when Jeongin, his girlfriend and Seungmin are borderline being kicked out of the kitchen by Minho, while his fiancée tries to sneak in cookie dough for Changbin and his girlfriend behind his back. Minho stops pushing Jeongin, looks behind him and groans.

“There will be no more left if you do that. You’re supposed to be on my side”, he whines at her. You step in, already heady with the scent of the sugary treats wafting through the entire kitchen.

“Oh thank god you’re here.”, Minho says and pulls you until you’re left to stop Jeongin and his squad from stealing the cupcakes.

It’s a lost cause though, because you are no match for three people, two actually for, from the looks of it, Seungmin has stood still, like a statue.

You go forward and nudge him,

“Hey. You there” and he breaks out of his daze tickles you faster than you can blink.

Now you’re suddenly outnumbered six to one, Minho excluded. The guy was just happy his cookie dough was spared.

“Stop, stop-” you wheeze out between breaths, “Why can’t you guys just greet me normally for once? Every time I have to go through hell when we meet.”

But Seungmin doesn’t relent and neither do the five other people tickling you.

”And where’s the fun in that? It would get boring” he smiles mischievously.

After what feels like forever, they leave, bored after a while, and you breathe normally.

“Why am I the only one being bullied?” you ask, not at all bothering to hold in your whining.

“Because you haven’t gotten a boyfriend who can shield you from our tickling yet” Minho's fiancée says, and it scares you how eerily similar they are to each other.

Done with them already, you climb up the flight of stairs, until you reach the balcony, to get some fresh air. You push the doors open and breathe.

You weren't prepared to see him today, looking so good it hurt. That would explain your constricted chest and how you were not able to breathe properly since you saw him today.

Sitting down on the floor of the balcony, you push each of your legs in between the railings of the balcony and settle comfortably. The blue sky from earlier is still there, but now the sun is hidden under clouds. When you lean your head forward, and feel the cool metal,

Seungmin joins you, dangling his legs from the railings. You ask him how he had been, all the three months you couldn’t ask him that question, face to face. He tells you the days were so boring, he almost missed you and you hit him as he grins, wind ruffling his hair.

You talk and stop, and talk again, the conversation and the following silence comfortable, because it’s him and you have nothing to worry about except your painful knowledge of your love for him and how one question has been lurking in your mind all the three months you were away, and now he had changed. The question stays on the tip of your tongue and you bite down on it, hard enough to feel the coppery taste of blood in your mouth a little.

“You know”, you begin, unsure of how to say it but you try anyway. “They all glow, they’ve been glowing, they always do but even more so, with happiness from finding their people, you know? I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love.” You concede, looking at him.

Still unsure, you tread shyly, carefully landing your next words.

“However, I can’t shake the sense that, that you glow too….. even with no one by your side, yet.” you finish tentatively.

For a long while, neither of you say a word. But the quiet weighs down on you with each passing second and you don’t know what will become of you if it isn’t broken soon. The ticking seconds that pass by coincidentally draw a realization out of you, and you’re hit by an epiphany. Seungmin is in love. He hasn’t denied it, at all. Even in the past months when you’d only spoken to him over the phone, he seemed softer, more vivid. You’d almost driven yourself crazy trying to pinpoint what made him that way.

“Oh my god” you gasp, inhaling a big breath. “You’re in love.”

Seungmin just stays, eyes taking in the scene before him for eleven seconds, he counts, before he looks down at your eyes.

“Yeah”, he sighs softly. “I guess I am. I thought it wasn’t obvious” he laughs lightly, like he just read something off the back of a cereal box, and didn’t reveal an earth-shattering revelation.

You’re stunned beyond words. The Seungmin you knew wouldn’t have admitted to something so big, so easily, without persuasion. But maybe, it added to the fact that he really was down bad for that person.

“Oh”. After a beat, you speak again, ”Really?”. Your voice is small and you throat suddenly has a lump in it. 

“Guess you are”. You keep talking, because if you don’t, you know the fraying threads holding your composure will stretch and break. If you are given so much as a moment’s silence to let his words truly sink in, it seems like they will end you. 

With all the mental turmoil you’re going through, you miss the look on his face. The lovestruck expression, aimed at you. Suddenly he shifts and your eyes are on him, waiting and pleading for something you don’t know.

“It’s you”, he says after, gifting you with one of his rare smiles that threatens to split his entire face with the joy it’s trying to contain.

You didn’t realize how two words, only two words, strung together with less than ten letters, coming from one of the only people who matter, could build you and break you. You just sit there, being. 

It’s not monumental, the moment. Cars drive by, birds chirp and the sun still shines on your beloved. But there’s a heightened awareness of everything. How you can physically feel your heart trying to escape the shackles of your chest. How the lump previously lodged in your throat has gone, leaving no mark except a dry aftertaste on your tongue. How Seungmin knows, that you love him too, without you physically trying to say it back.

And then the awareness fades, leaving you with joy. So much joy, that you think you’ll combust if you don’t relay it to him.

And so you do, and he lets you.

You take his face in your hands, admiring the gentle slope of his nose. The glasses atop it, barely hanging on. You adore, with all the time in the world, his brown irises filled with barely concealed love for you, and his lips. His enticing lips which tether you to the ground and make you soar above the sky with all the enchantments escaping them. He lets you come to a million realizations about a million things in that instant. 

You kiss him tenderly, hoping and almost desperately, praying for him to feel the love you have, before it ends you. But somewhere, intermingled in that love and ecstasy, there was gratitude.

Thank you, you wanted to say. Thank you for being my person. Thank you for choosing me, over and over again. Thank you for agreeing to be mine, along with all the other countless wonderful things you are and will be. Thank you. Thank you, thank you thank you-

He’s Seungmin and he’s chosen to be yours and he understands. You know he does when he gathers you, holding the entirety of you, and brings you close until you can see the sparkles in the night reflected in them. You sit there, side to side, pressed up against each other, in the vicinity of him and his knowledge of your love and you of his. 

Still, you’re restless and not entirely convinced and suddenly you’re overwhelmed with the urge to move and mess up the carefully crafted lines, the cage of your mind being too much for you, and maybe you need to tell him so he can brace himself and perhaps go away before it starts and-.

Seungmin’s hand settles on yours, resting on your thigh. It’s warm, you note, and a little bit sweaty. You smile in spite of yourself, thinking about a fumbling Seungmin, even if he was in the state for only a few seconds.

And you smile wider imagining the look that must have been on his face.

You giggle and freeze, your thoughts coming to an abrupt halt. Whatever had been haunting you, threatening to taint this moment, had dissipated. Seungmin had banished it.

Oh.

Oh. 

You will yourself to stop thinking for once, and interlace your digits with his long ones, and squeeze his hand. 

He thinks life is worth living, if it’s going to be this way.

Slowly, you turn your head to his and look at him, properly this time. With no thoughts clouding your mind, you observe his sparkling eyes. 

“I didn’t realize it was night already”, you say, not averting your gaze from his in the slightest. 

Seungmin startles and looks at the sky. After a beat, he replies:

 “It’s not.”

“It isn’t? Oh” you flush and look down, suddenly shy. 

“Why’d you think so?”

“I got close to your eyes and saw stars in them. That’s why.”

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

© booksndpoetry 2024. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise, translate, repost or steal my works in any way. All idols used in this piece are just inspiration for characters. They do not reflect the real people in any way.

[chaoticstarlightwonderland]

Kuzuhina love pollen/schmexy despair disease aftermath

So a common trope we’ve all seen before is some sort of aphrodisiac/love pollen/sexy despair disease infecting our beloved sdr2 cast. I want to skip the fun stuff and talk about the consequences.

Hajime and Fuyuhiko are with each other when it happens (i’ll say this take place during chapter 3) and it causes them to get all hot and flustered and the two start making out (and more~)

((sorry I don’t know how much I can say without getting banned from tumblr))

But what about the aftermath. It would be hard to go back to normal after spontaneously having sleeping with each other. And we’re talking about Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu here! The man who stabbed himself in the stomach as a form of apology. Obviously that didn’t work out the last time, but he has to do SOMETHING…

Fuyuhiko disappears for few hours if there are still sick people or a murder to investigate, a few days if it’s free time. Hajime is too much of a tsundere to analyse why it bothers him so much being left alone afterwards. Hajime is not at all self-conscious about his body, about how Fuyuhiko felt about it. If Fuyuhiko was disgusted by having to get physical with Hajime, or if Hajime was generally unpleasant at all. Hajime is not thinking about that at all no sir.

Fuyuhiko returns and the first thing he says to Hajime is “I’ve come to take responsibility as a Kuzuryuu and as a man!!” And pops out an engagement ring. The tiny mobster bows but doesn’t get on his knees cuz he doesn’t want to appear any shorter than he already is. The engagement ring itself is either something nice he got from Monomi/Chiaki through their ‘digital powers’ or if failing that, a ring pop from the store because that was the best he could find.

Hajime’s jaw drops to the floor. There are so many concerns on his mind. Responsibility? Is that really necessary? Yes Hajime wanted to talk to Fuyuhiko about it but marriage was the last thing on his mind. What would Hajime tell his parents? How would Fuyuhiko’s parents react to this? They’re still on an island in a killing game with no way out and Fuyuhiko’s top priority is setting up a shotgun wedding???

Hajime is feeling a mixture of embarrassment, surprise, and little bit of offence since it comes across like Fuyuhiko is worried that Hajime has become “spoiled goods”. It’s not Fuyuhiko’s intention, his behaviour around this is a product of his upbringing. Hajime tries to refuse but Fuyuhiko won’t stand for it, he must restore both their honours at all cost.

Bonus: if this all happens in front of the remain students. If Ibuki is still alive she would be most excited and immediately offer to sing at their wedding. Kazuichi but be jealous that Hajime not only got laid but is also getting married (despite Hajime’s protests otherwise). Gundham might be disappointed that Fuyuhiko did not put more poetry, theatrics, gravitas into the proposal. Nagito is admiring Fuyuhiko’s conviction (though considering Nagito’s crush is kinda canon there’s definitely some mixed feelings here). Now SOMEONE, I don’t know who, maybe Sonia, maybe Ibuki, who knows, will probably theorise out loud that Fuyuhiko was the top during the two’s ‘relations’ and that’s why the blonde yakuza is taking his ‘manly role’ so seriously. Both Hajime and Fuyuhiko tell the person to shut up but don’t really refute it nyehehehehe.

And that’s all I got right before I go to bed. Enjoy this pre-sleep madness.

[lavender-long-stories]

Van Hell

Sasuke x Hinata | Abandon from my WIP Folder

“I can’t… I don’t love you.” Hinata managed to push out. 

“What?” Naruto’s hand holding out the ring fell into his lap as he stared at her, confused. He lost the massive grin that had been plastered to his face. “I thought… I mean, you did.”

“I can’t do this.” Hinata squeaked, disheveling, feeling her face twisted up as she started to cry.

“I don’t understand. Everything’s been great. What happened?” Naruto wondered.

“Everything’s been great for you.” Hinata snapped at him. It was harsher than she meant it. “I can’t live like this anymore. We don’t know where we are going to end up, and we don’t know if we will be able to support ourselves in the next town. And you want to raise kids like this?” 

“Is the ring too cheap?” As usual, he wasn’t listening to her. He heard something about money must be the ring.

“No, it’s lovely, but I can’t be what you want. And I don’t think you can be what I won’t either.” It broke her heart, but after all this time, it had to be the truth. She was never going to be happy in this van no matter what he did to it, no matter how it ‘improved.’ 

“You left everything to do this with me. I thought this is what you wanted.” Naruto sat back from his knee, collapsing to the van’s floor. “To just be with me because you loved me, no matter where.”

“I didn’t think this was going to be permanent! I saw it as an adventure, not a lifestyle.” Hinata admitted. “You never want to be normal again, and I didn’t think you planned we could live in this van forever and have children here.”

Naruto waved his hand, flapping it on the bed. “We can get a bigger van, like a bus, one with stuff closer to a house.” Hinata fought, her eyes rolling. Like proper water? Or an oven? “You could teach the kids when they get older you’re smart.” 

“No, no. I do not want to raise kids like that. I can’t socialize children and I don’t want to raise them without a scrap of privacy.” Hinata rubbed her temples. This is what she had meant. They were different. She did love him. She just didn’t love him enough to put all this doubt and worry aside for his preferred lifestyle, especially since he wouldn’t do the same. They had never had a conversation about what she wanted or if that was even an option. She wouldn’t have hated this so much if it was part-time. If they had a small home somewhere for a few months and worked, and then when they had made enough, they headed out on the road and then repeated, but he wouldn’t even think about that.

“I think we can work it out.” Naruto sighed, looking disappointed, but he clearly wasn’t getting the idea she wasn’t going to be happy.

“I don’t think we can.” Hinata whimpered. 

Naruto got up. “Oh, of course we can.” He rubbed her shoulders in a tight hug, but she didn’t feel comforted. She felt like he hadn’t heard a single word she had said. 

“… I want to go back to Konoha,” Hinata told him.

“Like now?” Naruto looked at her weirdly. “I guess we can head back, but it’s going to be a couple-day trip you don’t want to hit anywhere else on the way by?”

Hinata sniffed, wiping her face and shaking her head.

“Alright.” Naruto patted her leg. “I think maybe with time back, you’ll feel better, and we can get back on the road, huh?”

Hinata didn’t make any move to agree. She couldn’t explain it to him. She wasn’t going to attempt to, but when she got there, she was getting out, and she would be happy to never see another van again.

--**--

Naruto spent the entire trip talking about getting a school bus and converting it to a small, drivable apartment, where they could split the back into an extra little room for at least two, maybe even three kids. He thought maybe they could get a hot water tank for a tiny shower. Maybe even a toilet

Hinata could put together what he had wanted in her head, but she couldn’t imagine herself there. It sounded fun for vacation, just not her whole life.

“It’s going to be alright.” Hinata blinked, realizing that Naruto finally noticed she hadn’t been in a good mood. He took her hand with the one he wasn’t driving with and smiled at her. She offered a neutral face. He wasn’t going to understand it was the end until she stepped out with her bag. She wasn’t going to try to break his heart earlier.

--**--

“Hinata!” Hinata was hugged tightly by Kiba and Shino, then turned to Tenten and the ever-aggressively loving Lee to be engulfed with more much-needed hugs. She smiled, feeling the first nugget of happiness she felt in weeks. 

She looked back at Naruto hugging people in his circle of friends from college, and she turned back to lower her voice to say what she couldn’t with her and Naruto’s shared cell phone. “I… I need a place to stay.”

Neji’s face immediately dropped. “Are you okay?”

Hinata waved her hand to assure him nothing was seriously wrong. “I’m fine. I just can’t live like this, and I have nowhere to get footing. Please, I will pay anyone back as soon as I get a job and move out as soon as I have enough money to put something down on an apartment.” 

Faces looked worried as she effectively sucked the warm moment dry of its happiness. Kiba started. “What’s happening…” Shino nudged him harshly. 

“I have the room!” Lee told her proudly. Hinata felt a wave of relief. Just because she had asked for help didn’t mean she would have gotten it. Neji couldn’t take her in, and her friends also had families. “It’ll be great. Since Tenten moved out, my place is too empty and needs more youth.” Hinata thanked him profusely. 

“But really, Hinata is everything okay.” Tenten was clearly checking her over. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just. Naruto-kun and I see things differently, and I can’t get him to hear me, and…” Hinata was rambling. She felt someone wipe her cheek. She hadn’t even noticed she had been crying.

“We’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay, Hinata.” Tenten rubbed her shoulders. “Do you have your bags packed?”

Hinata nodded. 

“Right after we’re all done with a happy return, we’ll grab them to not make too much of a scene, okay?” Tenten assured her

--**--

“Wait, woah.” Naruto grabbed her bags and held them so Hinata couldn’t pull them out of the van. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

“I mean, I am leaving. I can’t do this. I told you.” Hinata yanked them out of his hands to give them to Tenten’s waiting hands out the door. 

“Is this because I proposed? We don’t have to get married.” Naruto frantically concluded.

“No! This is not about getting married. It’s about living like this. I can’t do it, and you’re not going to change.” Hinata took a deep breath. “I do love you, but not enough to put up with this. I can’t push everything I want aside in favor of this. It’s not fair to me, and you are never going to compromise.”

“But I love you.” Naruto reached for her, and she let him take her hands.

“I don’t think you really do.” Hinata's voice broke. “If you did, you would see I’m not happy here. You would listen to what I had to say and compromise with me. You love this.” She waved her hand at the van. “You just wanted someone to share it with.”

“I want that to be you.” Her heart broke, and she closed her eyes.

Hinata knew that anything she said was going to go right through his ears. “I’m sorry.”

Hinata stepped out of the van. Lee wrapped an arm around her back, hugging her to him. “This is going to be so much fun to have you back!” 

Hinata could only hope he was right.

--**--

Lee’s apartment was… interesting. He had piles of projects everywhere. He showed her proudly how the couch pulled out and the fluffy blanket he had for her. She honestly enjoyed the enthusiasm.

Hinata looked around at his manikins. Lee was really talented for a guy who refused to wear much more than a green jumpsuit all through university. She honestly thought that he had put more work in with the track team coach than he did into his fashion design degree, but he was always more interested in dressing women than himself. 

They were all interesting works of art.

Lee waved his hand toward the kitchen area and jogged over, opening cabinets and the fridge. “There’s always food, healthy and filling!” 

Hinata giggled. “There is a bar around the corner, right?” 

Lee blinked in surprise. “I didn’t think you drank.”

“No, no, I don’t really.” Hinata waved her hands. “But I need a job. I’m not going to freeload here even for a day.”

Lee frowned for a moment. She was sure she was going to a lecture on how she should take a break, but instead, he smiled. “You’re determined. I like it. Seize the day! Let’s go!” He cheered.

Hinata honestly couldn’t think of a better person for her nerves right now. He tossed her coat and offered his arm. She giggled and linked with him as they headed for the elevator.

--**--

Her friends didn’t quite understand at first. Hinata didn’t know how to explain how she felt.

“I think I get it. I just never thought you would leave Naruto, of all people.” Kiba mumbled thoughtfully. “Like you thought the van thing was awesome, and you have had this crush on him since we were kids.”

“I did. I still love him in a way I’m not sure will ever really go away, but I can’t keep giving everything and receiving only what he thinks I want. I guess I got to the point where I had no more to give.” Hinata sighed.

“That makes sense,” Shino assured her.

“Now that you’re back, do you need a job? It’s not much, but I think my sister might be able to have you work at least part-time at the vet. It’s gross cleaning and stuff, but it’s something.” Kiba offered.

Hinata smiled. “Thank you. I already have a job.”

“Already? You got back yesterday.” Shino frowned. 

“There is a bar on the block that Lee-san’s apartment is on. When we were in need of cash in the van, we would work dive bars on the weekend to make cash. I would work the bar, and Naruto-kun would work the stockroom or bouncing.” Hinata explained.

“I can’t really see you in a bar.” Kiba scrunched his face.

“We’ll head in sometime to see your new skills,” Shino added in support.

--**--

Hinata slept during the day. She became a heavy sleeper early on in the van so that she didn’t die of fright. Lee’s music didn’t stand a chance, and she reminded him it was his apartment. He could sing as loud as he wanted. It was his place. He didn’t have to change for her.

She couldn’t be happier with the odd night schedule because it was a schedule. She could control it. She wasn’t at a different bar at a different time every few nights or flopping between day and night work. Lee seemed to love having her around, and Hinata was happy if he was happy.

The tips she was getting were more regular than she got anywhere else as people got used to her and knew she would get them drinks quickly. It made some of the other girls mad because she wasn’t working hard to flirt for her tips. It wasn’t like she was taking their tips because she didn’t get by guys who wanted to be flirted with. All her best tips came from guys who wanted to be left alone and to have their drink. It was usually older, grumpy men, but she found Sasuke Uchiha to be one of them. 

Sasuke didn’t look happy to see her the first night he came in, but she served him with no other word to him. She could feel him watching her around the bar. They had been in the same mutual friend group through Naruto, so she was sure he felt no obligation to be nice to her now, as she had broken his best friend’s heart. 

Sasuke came in after work, still in his suit. After the first few times he had come in, he started waiting for her to get his drinks so he didn’t have to deal with the other girls. He told them flatly he wouldn’t be tipping them, and he wasn’t interested. It didn’t deter all of them, but the majority dropped their act and moved on.

“The usual?” Hinata got out a glass for his tap beer.

Sasuke grunted his confirmation and took his drink. “What are you doing here?” 

“I couldn’t stay with him.” That was the only answer she had.

“No, not that.” Sasuke made a disgusted face. Maybe he didn’t resent her for that as much as she thought. “The Hyuga heiress, most likely to be a businesswoman or a trophy wife or both, and you’re tending a bar?” 

Hinata looked down the bar. It was a slow Tuesday, and she wasn’t being hailed so she could talk for a minute. “I tended when I was living on the road. Knowing what goes into a drink and how to keep drinks full was something I could carry from place to place and start up quickly. It’s all I really have right now.” 

“I’m surprised you put up with it that long.” Sasuke took a big swig of his beer, and she laughed. He was always Naruto’s worst critic.

“I think I was blind to the problems for a while because it wasn’t as bad as I felt at home. When I left, it definitely felt like freedom, but after no showers and no idea whether we had enough money to fix the van or eat, it got old. We did okay with the idea that we could just deal with it all until it came to the point that I realized he wanted to do that forever, and I wanted to be able to have a savings account and stability if something went wrong.” Hinata sighed, looking down at the bar. 

Sasuke made a face of disgust. Hinata grinned, noticing a drink low. She headed down the bar, feeling Sasuke’s eyes still on her.

When she ended up back after another round, she washed glasses in front of his chair. “What is it you do now?”

“I work at the family company with my brother. What else?” That is naturally what he would do. “You know it was a shit storm when you left. Your father told anyone who’d listen about you running off and whoring with a dropout.” Naruto wasn’t even a dropout. “But honestly, I don’t blame you. I can’t sit in a meeting with him and not feel like I want to punch him.” 

Hinata let out a snort. “He’s not pleasant.” 

Sasuke nodded, giving her a knowing look. “Did you ever think about turning around and using your degree?” 

“I don’t think it’s really an option right now. I have no work experience other than for my father’s company, and he, under no circumstances, would ever recommend me. I would likely have to do an internship for free, and I can’t do that right now.” Hinata explained.

“You should come to work for my family. I want to see the look on that bastard’s face.” Sasuke took another grumpy swig.

“I wouldn’t want to give you and Itachi-san the trouble he would cause.” Hinata was sure if she tried to get back into the business world, she would have to go super small and hope her father didn’t hear of it because he would make her boss’s life a living hell if she weren’t fired.

“Well, you can at least pour a beer that isn’t all foam.” Sasuke tipped his glass up at her.

Hinata didn’t know why, but the validation made her really happy.

I think when I wrote this, I was watching a lot of Van Life content, and I actually think that it's cool. I don't think you should cram 3 kids into shelves while you have a normal-sized bed and use them for content on the internet, but... moving on.

I try not to do anything internet trend-wise that is going to age my content, so this never got made. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[aleksa-sims]

Simselfstory

The next day D. & I went to my parents to pick up our cat and some of my stuff.  Last night, we talked again. We decided to just stay together for now, to see..... how things will turn out.

There was also something else D. told me. Since he was getting better while he was away, he thought about starting his own business, bcs he quit his job. My Dad offered to help him.

The two had this in mind anyway. They talked about it months ago and now it was time to inplement things. I don’t want to go into too much detail rn. It will explain itself over time.

Mom: You have to take your pills regularly, D. This is important! The same goes for you, A.! The more time passes, the better you’ll be and hopefully..... forget what happend. 😞

Dad (to Daniel): The main thing is that you are safe & fine. Soon we have a lot to do and distraction is always good! But one thing I want to mention again. No matter what probs you two have, even if you relapse, talk to us!! None of us will blame you for asking for help. We want you two to be well, okay?

Daniel: Yea, I got it. 😔

Dad: And what about you A.?

Me: Yea, ok! But I want you to help D. with that job thing.

Dad: Of course I’ll help him. And actually we could start immediately, but if we proceed as planned and discussed, it may be that you and Daniel have to move. 😕

Me: Um... okay. I am prepared to do whatever it takes. 🙂(😟)

Daniel (to me): You...are really ready to move? To.... my house!? 😯

Me: We’ve talked about it before, and..... now that I’m pregnant, why not? You, me and.................. our Baby? 😳

Daniel: I love you, so I’ll love your Baby, too. Our Baby! And well, N.'s Baby. 🤨

Mom: Are you serious about this, D.? Can- and do you even want that?? 😟

Daniel: Yes!

Me: We decided to try and I have to talk to N. about it too.

Dad: However you decide to continue, together or .... separately, I will help Daniel. I’m just clarifying this, so you don’t make your decision dependent on that.

My Dad and Daniel kept talking about their new plans, while my Mom couldn't stop asking me questions.

Mom: You really wanna move? You know what kind of... strange things his mother did there. In that house! 😟

Me: It's a pretty house. I like it there. And she moved out, it's all fine. Besides, I have other worries rn, as you know.

Mom: That’s what I’ve been trying to make clear to you these past few weeks. But well, now you're pregnant. Either you two accept this and move on, or you’re really getting a divorce.

Me: He wants us to stay together. And actually I want the same. I don't wanna lose him.... I’m moving back to our apartment with him for a short while, see if Daniel and I can make it? And, I'm gonna talk to N. I don’t want to disappoint N. or hurt him. I have to come up with something. A soloution! 😟🤯

Mom: In other words, it's either/or? There is no other way out, A.!

Me: Who says that? You?.... I’m gonna do what’s right for me, Daniel and Nico, not for you or anyone else. 😒

Mom: What are you trying to tell me?.... You can’t do the same thing you did back then. This isn't normal!.. And you were unhappy! That’s not what you want! And I’m sure Daniel won’t agree with that. 😦

Me: I'm going to do what I got to do.

Mom: I know you A.! You won’t do anything. You will wait until one of them.......... goes nuts.

Me: I don’t think so. 😒

Just before Daniel and I wanted to leave, Ana also had some questions for me.😩

Me: Everything you are about to say, drop it pls.

Ana: Um.... ok! Have you had makeup sex? Or, no! I’d rather call it... homecoming-sex.🧐 I mean, you didn’t really fight, he just... took off.🤷‍♀️

Me: No, we didn’t!! We talked!

Ana: Then it's obvious! You want N.! With him you couldn’t wait even 24 hours. Plus, he knocked you up. 🤷‍♀️😬

Me: Ah...yup. You know, we'll see S. later. Are you joining us?

Ana: Nah! Sounds like a double date, I really don’t feel like it. I have other plans. And now go and have fun with your..... man. 😏

Me: Who are you having fun with, Ana? 🤨 Dennis?

Ana: Are you jealous of me for Dennis? 😜

Me: Ugh!... NO! 😖

Ana: Don't worry, sis. I’m not dating Dennis, a messed up guy. NO thanks! I have fun...... with myself. 😄

Me: Hmm?... I know you Ana! You have a secret. And you know me, baby sis. I'll uncover it. 😏💁‍♀️

Ana: Weirdo!

Ana really had a secret. At first I thought she was back with Adam or something, but no, it wasn’t Adam. Just that much, I get why she kept it a secret. 🤭

Previous/Next

[salty-autistic-writer]

Second chapter of "Hold My Hand, I'll Walk With You My Dear"

Summary: 5 times Buck and Tommy talk about their fears and 1 time they defeat fear together.

Sometimes, Tommy’s mind is like a stormcloud, soaking up bad thoughts until it’s ready to burst. 

He can feel it. The way everything seems a little darker. A little heavier. Like the sun being swallowed by the fog of an approaching thunderstorm. And he tries to not get lost in it, but the cloud is growing every second and he can’t escape its shadow.

Today, the cloud is a wall towering right in front of him. He looks at Evan through its murky gloom and all he can think about is the end.

Right now, they are having dinner together and everything seems to be nice. Stable. But what is a single moment in the overwhelming presence of time?

Time is a river and it only flows forward, disappearing in the distance, behind the up-and-down hills of life. No one can see where it’s going. No one can know how far their river reaches until it drains somewhere in the future.

There is no way to trust a moment because no one can ever know how long it’s going to last. Everything good has an end. Everything good dies. Everyone good leaves.

The past has proven this.

Tommy looks at Evan, who happily rambles about his lasagna recipe and he knows the smile is frozen on his face.

It’s unfair. Evan doesn’t even know what’s going on. Tommy should tell him. But he doesn’t want to kill the mood. Doesn’t want to be the reason this brilliant smile fades from Evan’s face.

Evan is a good person without a doubt. Sweet in a way no one has ever been before. The way he knocked at the door, grinning and holding the lasagna and bouncing on his feet had Tommy actually swoon a little. Dangerous, he knows. It’s dangerous to open up too fast. Too much. Too early.

The stormcloud thoughts are eager to remind him.

He saw the guy who was flying a cool helicopter into a hurricane. The hot capable funny pilot? That’s who he has a crush on. Once he’s going to discover what’s behind that role you play, he’s going to be disappointed or spooked. Maybe he's still going to try because he’s sweet like that. But you’re going to feel it like you’ve felt it all the times before. The beginning of the end.

“Are you okay?”

There it is. Tommy winces. Evan is looking at him with his head tilted to the side and his smile falling, making place for a worried expression.

Tommy nods and forces his lips up into a reassuring smile. Even that feels heavy. “Yeah. Totally. I’m great.” 

That was too much reassurance. He can see it in the way one of Evan’s brow ticks up. He is an attentive person. Tends to get easily - adorably - distracted by his surroundings, but once he focuses on something, he doesn’t let it go. He won’t let this go either, Tommy knows. And dreads.

Doesn’t matter. You can tell him now. Better sooner than later. It’s going to feel like a bandaid being ripped from a wound. No one wants to stay with you anyway.

“You’re a bit pale,” Evan notes, glancing at the rest of the lasagna in alarm. “Was it something in the food?”

“No. No, the food was great,” Tommy says. He runs a hand over his face, sighing. “I … I’m just having a bad day. Look. I’m going to be completely honest. I’m not going to be much fun to be around today. So you don’t have to stay. I get it. I really do.”

It’s not the first time. It won’t be the last.

Evan stares at him for a moment, his mouth slightly open. “You … You don’t have to be fun all the time,” he finally says slowly. “That’s … that’s not what a relationship is about. It’s about sharing good and bad days, right?”

A relationship. He said relationship? Stop getting excited about it. He probably didn’t find another word to describe what this is.

Tommy swallows and looks down at his plate. “You don’t want to be around me on my bad days, Evan. Nobody does.”

Stop sulking. What are our guests supposed to think?! Can’t you at least smile a little more?

Funny. The stormcloud starts to sound like Tommy’s deceased mother. He shudders.

“Well, I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere,” Evan says, smiling softly, but then quickly adds, “Unless you really, really want me gone. Then I’ll go. But … I don’t want to. That’s what I’m trying to say. No pressure.”

Tommy glances up, seeing Evan looking at him so … openly and warmly. He’s so different than everyone else. Still. Tommy should tell him to leave. That’s what would be best for both of them. Evan won’t have to waste energy trying to cheer Tommy up. And Tommy won’t have to be scared of being seen. When he’s alone he’s safe.

Yes. He should tell Evan to leave. Now.

But he can’t. Somehow he can’t. Despite the stormcloud, despite all those bad thoughts, there’s something inside him, a warm glow, that just wants to trust Evan’s words.

This man wants to take care of me. And I want him to. Is that a crime? Can’t I be happy, even if it’s just for the moment? I’m not able to look into the future anyway … So what about living right now?

Tommy gathers his courage. It’s tough to walk through the wall of bad thoughts. One of his hands instinctively curls around his own thigh in desperate need of grounding. “I think I’d like you to stay. If you want to.”

“Sure,” Evan says. “Do you want to eat dessert?”

Tommy shakes his head. “Not really. Not now at least. Maybe later. Can we just … sit on the couch and talk?”

“Of course.”

Outside, the sun is setting, the light bathing everything - including Evan’s curls - in golden light.

Tommy feels exhausted even though he hasn’t done anything stressful today. He folds his hands in his lap, tilts his head back to rest it on the cushion and sighs. “Sometimes it feels like every possible bad thought hits me at once, you know? It’s like a big dark stormcloud. And I can’t escape it. A lot of those thoughts are stupid. Irrational. But they are there and sometimes, they are louder than the rational part of my brain.”

Evan hums. “That sounds familiar. I think I have such a stormcloud too sometimes. I feel lighter when I share those bad thoughts.”

“I grew up in a family that used to hide behind facades,” Tommy says bitterly. “And I was taught to keep secrets. My Dad was a drunk. My mother tried to keep up the impression of a perfect little family. No one was allowed to know. No one was allowed to see what was happening behind the curtains. And I was … I was different. I was quiet, awkward, didn’t make any friends and I liked to stay in my room, drawing or reading. My mother didn’t like it.”

Evan is quietly listening. Now that Tommy started to open up the gates, he somehow can’t keep the thoughts from flooding through. But this is different from usual. He kind of doesn’t want to stop. He feels heard. 

“After my Dad drank too much, drove his car against a tree and died, it was only her and me. She always tried to make me into something, someone, I wasn’t. But I tried to adapt, tried to please her, because of course, I wanted her to love me and she was obviously seeing me as some kind of husband substitute. It was a constant balancing act. Don’t be weird. Smile like you mean it. Be the strong and confident son she craved. Otherwise, she would snap at me and insult me for days. She was ... never exactly stable, emotion-wise. I learned how to cook and repair stuff. I held her arm when we were in public and smiled at the neighbours. I learned how to be funny and charming at the right moment. I was trying to be the son she wanted.”

Tommy falls silent for a moment, feeling phantom pain split his pain. “And then she left me. Ran away in the middle of the night with some fling I didn't even know about. Never saw her again.”

Evan inhales sharply.

“She left me a note. Wrote that she needed to live and that I was old enough to manage. Well. I was kind of lost. But then the army came to recruit. And that’s how I ended up flying choppers.” He smiles. “The first time I felt really free was when I was up in the air. Alone. Finally, I was able to breathe.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this,” Evan says quietly. “Your Dad leaving. Then your Mom.”

Tommy shrugs. “I’m used to it by now. People leaving is kind of a recurring theme in my life.”

Shit. Tommy curses himself. That was … not a great timing to say something like that. He looks at Evan and is almost sure to see he’s hurt. But instead, Evan looks thoughtful. “You think I’m going to leave too?” He asks quietly.

Tommy swallows. “It came into my mind, yes. I’m sorry, Evan. You don't deserve that. You’re … a good person. I really like you. Sometimes, this feels almost too good. And I start to be scared again. Scared that this is going to be over soon …”

Evan abruptly reaches out, taking Tommy’s hand in his and squeezing gently. “I’m here.”

“You are,” Tommy breathes, looking at their hands. His throat feels tight with emotion. “You are.”

“And I’m going to stay. Look at me.” Evan leans over, cups Tommy’s face and looks him straight in the eye. “I’m going to stay.”

Tommy drowns a little in the honest warmth in Evan’s eyes and he finds that he can almost believe it. Maybe, with time, he can trust those words. Can accept that this is his reality and maybe, the stormcloud will dissolve piece by piece until there’s no more wall. Maybe.

He really wants that to happen. But for now, he just leans into the touch and tries to enjoy the moment.

[softtdaisy]

BARELY BREATHING - STEVE HARRINGTON

DESCRIPTION I you thought Steve was invincible, but his last trip to the upside down proved you wrong

PAIRING I steve harrington × fem!reader

WORD COUNT I 2,1k

A/N I this is the saddest thing I have ever written. Fun fact: I started writing it before season 4 part 2 came back and never posted it for obvious reason 💀I do accept to pay for the tissues if you need them

“Where is he!” you screamed, entering Dustin’s house like it was yours. You looked at all those feared and sad faces. You noticed how some of them jumped at your sudden entrance. You wanted to scream even harder, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have the strength to.

And they were just kids. They weren’t supposed to go through this. You weren’t supposed to go through this either.

For most of your teenage years, you’ve been Dustin’s babysitter. This kid was tiring and hyperactive but God, you loved him so much. He was the baby brother you never had. Even when he grew up, he never stopped spending time with you. If Dustin didn’t need a proper babysitter anymore, he was still happy to go to the cinemas with you. Your relationship was too special to be broken because of stupid things like teenage years.

And then he met Steve Harrington. You couldn’t compete with King Steve. You probably would even choose Steve over yourself. And you guessed it couldn’t be that bad for Dustin to hang out with an older guy. Someone that could talk to him about things one of you won’t be comfortable talking about.

But the truth was worse than that. You had no idea what was going on in their life.

Dustin started to spend more time with Steve and you felt left behind. Not that Dustin was your only friend. But it still hurt to see him chose someone over you. Even when you agreed and said you didn’t mind. And Steve understood that the day you met them at the mall. They were going to see a movie; you had planned to watch with the boy.

Steve probably noticed the disappointment on your face when you said that it was fine. That you could still go another time together. You knew you wouldn’t, but it was worth trying as an excuse.

“Join us.” He proposed with this genuine and soft smile on his face. “I took the biggest popcorn and Mrs. Henderson will probably kill me if he eats too much sugar.”

“Hey!” you didn’t even hear Dustin complained about the remark. You were too grateful for Steve Harrington for being nice to you. “Ok, I’m coming. But only for the pop-corn part.” You noticed Steve little smile when you agreed to come with them.

Dustin now had two babysitters, basically. Two babysitters for whom it took only a few weeks to fall in love. You tried to be as discreet as possible with Steve, never showing any kind of affection in public. Never cuddle or kiss when you weren’t alone, no matter how hard it was to resist your favorite boy. It was just as hard for Steve that couldn’t resist putting a hand on your back or on your arm when you were closed to him. Sometimes he did and he blamed it on his habit of being tactile with people when the kids would notice his hand on your thigh or the way his little finger was brushing yours.

But what you thought was a discreet relationship was actually acknowledged by all the teenagers Steve had somehow adopted. You still weren’t sure to understand how their relationship was working but you liked this side of your boyfriend. Some night, it made you believe that maybe Steve was the one you could grow a family with. And you liked those kids. Even if they were lying to you.

It wasn’t until Billy died and Max was heartbroken that they all decided to tell you about the Upside Down and all the shitty things that was happening in Hawkins. Were you mad for not knowing any of this? Yes. You lectured them all for being careless about hiding all of these. You got a couple of rolling eyes, mostly from Mike, and some apologies, from Will and Eleven.

But what melt your heart was when Steve took your hand. The way you could see the regret for lying to you in his eyes. Even more, you could see the love he had for you in the way he was looking at you that day. “I didn’t want to sideline you. I just wanted to protect you.” At that moment, you didn’t care about any of the kids around. You just grabbed Steve face and gave him the sweetest kiss, that caused some disgust sounds.

“I know you do Steve. But who’s protecting you?” you asked him that day. You meant it in a soft way.

Having no idea that Steve really needed protection.

You knew something was wrong after Chrissy’s death. You could easily guess it had something to do with the Upside Down. But you agreed to not get involved. Steve wanted to protect the kids more than anything. But he knew that if anything was likely to happen to you, you would be his priority. And it wouldn’t be fair. So, it was better to keep you safe, without them.

You did your best to maintain a normal life. Not stressing over Steve disappearing most days because he had to help the group again. You imagined the worst scenarios in your head. But you trusted him when he told you he had everything under control. What could you do? He didn’t want you around the danger, so you had to believe what he was saying.

Which made today even worse.

You were working on your next exam in your bedroom when the talkie-walkie Dustin gave you started making noise. Everything seemed to be in slow motion suddenly, you could feel something was wrong. It was that kind of gut feeling you get when you love someone. “[y/n]? you’re there?” you could tell from Dustin’s voice how scared he was. Something was definitely wrong.

“What’s going on Dustin?” your hand was shaking so much you had a hard time keeping the talkie between your fingers. You didn’t hear most things. Was it because of the talkie or because your brain disconnected itself when you heard Steve’s name for the first name? You weren’t so sure. All you knew was today going to be the worst day in your life.

How you even managed to run to Dustin’s house was a mystery. You were on some kind of auto pilot mode where you let your body decided while your brain couldn’t stop repeating the same sentence. “It’s Steve, [y/n] please come…” And it wasn’t until you were in front of the door you passed so many times in the past that you finally realized.

It was Steve.

Something was wrong with Steve.

None of the kids had the strength to tell you what was going on. But you noticed the red eyes. You saw the way Eddie Munson was hiding from you and shaking in the kitchen. They were all scared of you. Of the way you were going to react when your life was going to be broken, in a few minutes.

“What’s going on? Is Steve hurt? Why are you all here then? Why not at the hospital?” you kept asking questions they didn’t want to answer to. They didn’t have the strength to tell you what happened down there.

They couldn’t tell you why Steve wasn’t at the hospital. Where he should be, probably. If he could be. That was the first sign that told you something really bad happened.

You looked at Dustin. One look. One question. And he answered with another look towards in his mom’s bedroom. He’s there. And you walked there. Or at least in front of the door. You started to imagine what you were going to see. And then you heard it.

Steve’s groan. But not the usual. Not the same groan he made when he hurt himself when you were building Dustin’s new bed and he hit his hand with the hammer. Not the same groan he made when he was driving and the car in front of him was very slow. Definitely not the same groan he made when he was making love to you.

It was a broken groan.

Your boyfriend was broken.

You felt a hand holding yours suddenly and you saw Max beside you. Just like you were when she lost her brother, she was being there for you. And as grateful as you were to have her with you, you were scared it meant the situation was just as terrible as it was for Billy.

There was only way to know.

So you opened the door.

And you saw him. Your lovely, beautiful boyfriend lying there. A pale skin that contrasted with the veins on his arms, with his beautiful brown eyes… and the awful and blood-soaked bandage around his torso. You almost broke down, falling your knees. And you felt Max keeping you straight. You knew why.

“Hi, baby.” You heard Steve said with the lowest and weakest voice you’ve ever heard.

You were already having a blurry vision, but you managed to walk to him. When you put a hand on his face, you felt the coldness of his skin and the tear that rolled down your face immediately. That couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. He was supposed to be the strong one, the one that could fight any stupid creatures and came back as good as he left. He was supposed to stay with you for the rest of your life. Not…

“You should see the monster’s face after what I did to him.” He said with a blink that, you guessed, hurt him more than it should. You could tell from the face he made just after. And you laughed. You laughed until you cried because you couldn’t take it anymore.

Somehow, Steve managed to move a little to give you some space. You immediately lie beside him. You needed to feel him, to know he was there. You hated how cold his arm felt when he put around your shoulder to bring you closer to him.

Steve was always hot. No matter the weather outside, that man was like a werewolf coming out of a young adult novel. He was always super-hot and it gave you the perfect excuse to cuddle with him when it was cold outside. It became such a habit that when you were out during winter, you didn’t need to bring gloves anymore. Holding your boyfriend’s hand was enough.

But today, Steve’s body was cold. And you could tell from the little moan that escape his lips when you put your hand on his arm that you were hotter than him for once. Slowly, you draw the whole line circling his neck with your fingertips. Something or someone must have tried to strangle him. As if stabbing him in the chest wasn’t enough already.  

It wasn’t the first time Steve would get hurt because of the Upside Down. You remember the bruises from the whole Starcourt mess. He was always laughing and making jokes about the situation. How he was some kind of superhero for surviving every time. How he looked more badass than ever with those bruises and he should keep them. Or how he would pretend that the groan he made when you were taking care of him was just an excuse to make you keep looking after him. To not make you more anxious about his condition, when he was really hurt.

But this time, nothing could save the day. And when you looked at him, you noticed the tears in his eyes. Because he knew.

“Don’t.” you whispered. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry. Don’t tell me you’re going to be ok. Don’t lie. But don’t tell the truth either. Please, Steve just…don’t.” you could feel your voice breaking. Steve simply nodded at your request and kissed your forehead. The pressure of his lips was so weak it almost break your heart again. That wasn’t fair.

“May I say, one thing?” His eyes were closed, like it was taking him too much strength to keep them open. You didn’t hear your own yes, but you guessed it did with the sweet and small smile on his lips. It was the last effort he could make for you.

“I love you.” You heard him say with a sigh and you immediately started to cry again. You could contain those tears and you couldn’t care about the way they were soak his already ripped t-shirt. You cuddled harder against him, wanted to feel his skin again, to smell his perfume one more time. Your face was so close to his heart that when you say “I love you too”, it went directly there.

It took you a few moments to realize that you were all Steve needed for his last minutes.

You. Your love.

To love and to be loved.

follow @softtdaisywords​ to know when new stories are released 🤍

[nat-seal-well]

I’m in bed now because tomorrow I go in at 3 in the morning and I’m tired. But because I’m in bed, it means I can finally talk about an AU that won’t leave me alone :D

(And yeah, I know I already have 2 I’m working on. Tbh I don’t know if I’ll ever actually do anything with this third one, but it’s fun to think about and rotate around in my head like a Costco rotisserie chicken.)

I watched a movie the other day that was frankly, disappointing, but one of the few things I liked about it was that the love interest-person made dresses. He was a dick and his wife deserved way better (even though she poisoned him to put him in his place and I said “fuck yeah, do it again”), but I thought the whole dress-making thing was really cool. And then, because my mind works the way it does and it always likes to play with AUs, I said, “Hm, what if?”

This is also partially fueled by a very beloved book of mine. Some of my favorite parts in it are when the main character and her sisters are getting ready for a ball and getting sized and fitted for fancy dresses. Idk something about it just really appealed to me. Maybe I like pretty things too much. (To be completely honest, I know I do. It’s why I keep buying jewelry when I don’t actually like to wear any most of the time.)

I don’t have a clear plot for this AU like I do for the other two. Really it’s just a couple of scenes that are vaguely connected. Here’s what I’m thinking:

It would be set in, like, the 18th century or something bc let’s be honest everyone likes that.

Dressmaker!Marin who spends their days lost in their work in some tiny, little local shop that doesn’t get much recognition despite having a handful of very loyal customers.

They’re doing their usual thing when someone walks in and makes the bell above the door ring. This is a surprise, because they aren’t expecting anyone today. They don’t have any fitting appointments and while walk-ins are welcome, the shop doesn’t really get any.

So they put their work aside and make their way up to the front of the shop to greet whoever it is. And, of course, who else could it be but a certain very tall, and very pretty Nat?

(With a disgruntled Ava in tow. She does not want to be there.)

They make their introductions. Nat does most of the speaking, and talks about how she and her very dear friend aren’t from here—they’re visiting on prolonged business, she says. (Agency business, but Marin doesn’t know that.) It was very sudden and neither of them had time to pack properly, and she knows this is very short timing, but they’re going to be in town for a while, and would Marin possibly be kind and generous enough spend part of their day having them measured so they can place a few orders?

Ava says under her breath, “I don’t need new clothes.” To which Nat replies, too quietly for Marin to hear, “Your last dress is currently covered in werewolf blood. It’s either a new wardrobe, or you walk around for everyone to see in your shift.”

(Ava does not want to do that. She reluctantly agrees.)

Marin, of course, is more than willing to help. Partially because they’re eager for new customers, and partially because they find Nat very attractive and when they say yes, she smiles at them and it makes their heart jump. And their face feel warm. How strange.

Naturally, they move on to the actual measuring. Ava intimidates them and it goes smoothly, if more quiet than a usual appointment. They discovered quickly that she isn’t one for small talk. When it’s over and done with, it’s almost a relief.

With Nat, it’s a very different story. Nat makes conversation and is very insightful. She has a nice, soft laugh and makes them feel at ease, and has plenty of compliments to offer after seeing the dresses in display in the shop window. It’s safe to say that Marin is a very flustered mess, even though they’re enjoying her company. A lot.

There’s one moment where she has to get close with the measuring tape. Marin doesn’t notice at first until they realize they can smell the perfume she’s wearing, and then they look up—and wow, she is very tall, Marin has to tilt their head back to look her in the eye, and when did she get so close? They feel jumpy and take a step back, and try to play it off. If Nat almost trips over one of her sentences for some strange reason, Marin doesn’t notice.

Ava notices, though. Because of course she does.

The rest of the afternoon goes relatively smooth, even if Marin does make it a point to avoid making eye contact in order to keep their cool. Ava says she doesn’t care about the details of her garments, as long as they leave plenty of space for her to move around in like she needs. Nat isn’t picky either, though she does have a few things in mind. Marin says that they think she would look good in green.

They thank her, they pay for Marin for their time, and leave. And that’s that. That should be that.

Naturally, it isn’t. Not when Nat walks through the door again a few days later, but not to talk business. Instead, she says, it’s just… to see them. Just because she was “in the area” and thought she’d drop by. (Spoilers: she’s lying.)

One thing leads to another. Nat comes by more and more frequently, and Marin can’t help it when they wind up falling. Hard.

I just have this image in mind of them having quiet, private conversations in an empty shop as Marin works on sewing and beading and measuring fabric, while Nat sits on the other side of the work table and sips on cups of tea. It is soft and intimate and Marin finds they look forward to coming in more and more every day.

Naturally, when their work is done, there would be a scene where Marin is helping Nat into one of the dresses they made for her. Maybe they’re standing back to see it on her in its entirely, looking over their work to search for what can be improved, but oh no—the only thing they can actually focus on is now good Nat looks.

There’s a pause as Marin stands there and tries to get it together to think of something to say. They fail miserably. But why is Nat staring at them like that?

They clear their throat and open their mouth to offer an alteration they could make—a remark about it being just a little too long, or the sleeves extending just a bit too far, or something for them to fix so that Nat can keep visiting for just a little bit longer—but they never get to finish their thought. Because that’s when Nat takes a step forward and places her gloved hands very gently on either side of Marin’s face, and leans down to pull them into a kiss.

(It occurs to Marin later that she never actually looked herself over in the mirror once. Nat was too busy watching them.)

[taylortruther]

sorry to vent but i honestly am just so damn tired atp of having to desperately cover everything in disclaimers and constantly perform outrage just to be allowed to exist in fandom spaces now as a black fan. like my original mindset was just that it’s disappointing but i don’t and can’t expect celebrities to perfectly mirror my values, and with all the actual problems in my life and the world - including racism that actually affects my real life AND things i have the ability to potentially do something about - i wasn’t going to spend my time and energy being furious that a pop star i’ll never meet is fucking an edgelord i’ll never meet either. like i’m sorry but i already compartmentalized all this YEARS ago and have zero expectations of celebrities so it’s just whatever to me. if taylor herself was spewing racist comments or if matty was actually some white supremacist nazi and not just an intentionally provocative edgy douchebag it would be different, but TO ME PERSONALLY the actual situation as it is is just not that serious and not worth my outrage.

but am i, one of those ‘poc fans’ everyone is constantly falling all over themselves to declare themselves supportive of and ‘safe’ for, allowed to feel that way as one of the people actually targeted by that idiot’s dumbass comments? NOPE! you best believe people were FURIOUS that i thought i could get away with not performing Angry Black Woman Rage for them every single time i want to simply engage in my hobby and discuss fun things, or analyze surprise songs, or express empathy for taylor in any circumstance, or just do anything that isn’t ranting 24/7 that she’s terrible and racist and irredeemable. so now every time i want to do any of those things i have to write 6000 disclaimers that yes taylor is awful and no i don’t like matty just so overwhelmingly white fans won’t yell at me that i’m not really black (an accusation i’ve now gotten three separate times), or that i’m hurting other poc by “condoning racism” (which i have not done), or that i’m so far up taylor’s ass i would still stan her even if she personally called me the n-word (the final straw that made me turn anon off probably for good) and idk it’s just…not fun being here anymore now that everyone is just going to treat me like a doll who’s only here for them to virtue signal with (and ‘virtue signaling’ is a terrible term but like that is truly, genuinely what a huge chunk of this fandom is doing rn), claiming to obsessively care about my feelings and fandom experience so they’ll look good but then berating and scolding me every single time i step a toe out of line and try to express my own opinion or commit the grave sin of Enjoying Taylor Swift On My Taylor Swift Blog. like sure taylor disappointed me but it’s other (again, overwhelmingly white) fans who have completely ruined being here and made it a miserable chore to be a black fan, not her. atp I just want her to drop him and everyone to forget not bc he sucks but bc i just want to be allowed to exist peacefully on my own blog again, without having to constantly walk on eggshells so the people who ~care about marginalized fans~ won’t come call me a stupid brainless bitch who lets taylor manipulate me because i’m a self-hating racist. i’m just so tired.

i am tired too and i am really grateful to you for writing all this out (i hope it felt a little cathartic) because i 100% AGREEEEEEEEEE. the way this fandom acts anytime they start talking about uplifting poc will never not be weird to me and i think you explained why perfectly.