#incredible what a good set of slacks can do

[charlesherbertlightoller]

Photos taken moments before I was sucked into a jet engine 💗🖤

(They/She)

[stevehours]

drinking game

steve harrington x fem!reader

18+ minors dni, drinking, smut

wc: 4.4k

As far as first dates go, this is the lamest one you’ve been on. Which you’d somewhat anticipated when you agreed to it. Steve Harrington is a couple years younger than you. The kid’s barely twenty. But he is incredibly handsome and well, it’s been awhile for you. Steve’s wooing skills haven’t graduated high school, like he has. He insists on picking you up, gets to show off the car his daddy bought him. It is nice. Must’ve cost a fortune when he was gifted it on his sixteenth birthday. The damn thing has a telephone in it. Power seats and windows. And the seats heat up, he tells you. Though in the middle of August, it’s not really necessary. It has great speakers, proven by the cheesy, 70’s baby making music he’s blasting from them. You can’t imagine Steve actually listens to this, but that it’s an attempt to get you in the mood.

He brings you to a diner for dinner where he tries to share a milkshake with you and then it’s a trip to the drive-in movies. It’s ripped out of the 50’s. Especially the part where he tries to make out with you, which okay, yes you indulge in until he grabs a handful of your breast.

“Alright, Romeo,” you laugh, pushing him back, “Cool it down a little.”

“Sorry,” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and settles back into the driver's seat. His cheeks are ruddy, either with embarrassment or arousal, you aren’t sure.

“It’s fine—“ you tell him and adjust your blouse, “It’s kind of cute.”

“You’re really pretty,” he blurts out, smiling and it does make you giggle. But you feel a little childish right after, so you shove his head and tell him to keep watching the movie.

Must be a win for Steve because that saccharine smile doesn’t leave his face.

After the movie, he starts driving but not in the direction of your apartment. He glances at you, “I’m having a really good time. Would you be up for maybe coming back to my place? For a drink or something?”

“Your place?” you snort, crossing your arms but you’re already convinced.

Steve blushes again, “Well, I live there. My parents are like, barely home. Business trips and stuff.”

“Alright, Harrington,” you shrug, “It’s early. Let’s do it.”

—

“It’s called Flip, Sip or Strip,” he says, holding up a quarter and looking at you under hooded eyes.

You cackle, fingers delicately holding the crystal wine glass that’s definitely worth more than anything you own. You didn’t know Steve’s parents were so loaded, though the car should’ve been the indicator. The pair of you are sitting in the living room of the Harrington home. It’s so intricately designed, the entire house following the same decorative theme. And it’s remarkably clean for a place a young man lives alone 75% of the time. You wonder if there’s a housekeeper that comes and cleans up after Steve.

“You want to play a drinking game?” you scoff, crossing your legs and you don’t miss the way Steve’s eyes follow the movement.

“You’ve heard of it, then?”

“Not since freshman year of college but, sure, let’s play,” you placate him, leaning back in the chaise lounge. In the back of your mind you’re wondering why expensive furniture is so uncomfortable. Steve scrambles from the equally looking stiff couch, opening what you can assume is his parents liquor cabinet. Under the record player that plays that same cheesy, romantic 70’s R&B he was blasting in the BMW.

He sets two glasses and a bottle of tequila on the coffee table and then pats the cushion next to him on the couch.

You raise an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t it be better to stay here? So you can actually see me?”

“Good point,” he grins excitedly and then says, “You first. Call it.”

“Heads,” you slur in a sultry voice, smirking at the way he looks back at you all slack-jawed.

Then Steve flips the coin in the air, catches it in his palm and slaps it on his forearm. He uncovers it and gets this real mischievous smile on his face. He doesn’t even have to announce it, you know the coin is tails up. You laugh and lean forward to grab the bottle of tequila, pouring yourself a small shot and downing it with ease. Then you extend your palm out and Steve hands you the coin. You watch him expectantly until he says, “Tails.”

You flip it, catching it in your hand and flipping it onto your arm. You giggle as you uncover it, wiggling your eyebrows at Steve when you tell him, “Heads.”

He shucks off his coat, tossing it behind him and making grabby hands for the quarter. You roll your eyes as you drop it into his hand and tell him, “Heads.”

Steve flips the coin and then his face scrunches up in disdain, “Heads.”

You snatch the coin from his hand as you cackle triumphantly. A few more rounds go on, you take off your heels with Steve’s eyes glued to your feet and he takes a shot. Then you’re challenged again to either take a drink or remove another bit of clothing. And you’re honestly feeling that shot of tequila so you’d rather not take another so quick. Hence, your tights come off. Steve watches the motion and chews on his bottom lip.

“You a virgin, Harrington?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together.

He laughs, almost offended as he shakes his head, “Far from it. You’re just too good to look at. Anyone tell you that you could be a model?”

“Flattery will get you almost anywhere. Heads or tails, big boy?” you smooth your thumb against the warm quarter.

He guesses correctly, but you don’t on your turn. And so off comes your blouse. Steve spreads his legs across from you, hands smoothing down his jeans as he grins salaciously at you. He incorrectly guesses tails and then pulls off his polo, exposing this jungle of chest hair you’re shocked by. A smug smirk spreads across his lips as your mouth hangs open. And he’s got all these moles decorating his gorgeous skin like constellations. He combs his own fingers through his chest hair and leans back on the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Still has his Nikes on.

You scowl as you throw the quarter at him, “Heads.”

And you lose, but you opt for another shot as you feel far more exposed than Harrington is.

A few more rounds leads to you both pleasantly buzzed and in your underwear.

“This game is stupid,” you decide when you incorrectly guess again.

Steve giggles and tosses the coin on the coffee table, “That’s okay. I’d rather take those off myself anyways.”

You hate that it works, makes your thighs warm up with dull arousal as you take your eyes over Steve’s body. He’s lean, soft but very faintly muscular. And those moles go all over him. All the way down to his feet. You heave a sigh and stand from the chaise lounge, stepping in between Steve’s legs and grabbing a hole of his square jaw. He blinks up at you, mouth ajar with fucking stars in those round, brown eyes.

“You have a really stupid, cute face,” you tell him, pushing his thick hair off his forehead.

“Uh, thanks?” he replies and you straddle his lap, pushing both hands into the waves of chestnut hair. You look at it, eyes narrowing.

“Do you have highlights?” you ask.

“Naturally— from the sun and—“ he starts but you interrupt him.

“Bullshit,” you grab onto his jaw again, “You get highlights in your hair.”

“No, I don’t,” he narrows his eyes and you completely seat yourself on his lap, feeling his erection press against your ass. You grind down on it and he lets out a gargled moan, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“You do,” you tell him and then get your lips on his jaw, feeling the subtle stubble against your face. You lick against his jawline, pushing your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back to give you more room. You begin kissing down his neck and his hands grab onto your hips, guiding you up and down against his strained, hard cock. The whole hair argument is completely forgotten by Steve, his hips jerk weakly as he leans his head back and lets out these pretty, soft sounds. The kind of sounds that make your stomach fill with excited, horny butterflies.

You mark up his neck, the skin purpling from your pleasurable abuse. Suck and bite until bruises form and Steve’s whimpering underneath you. You relent on his neck, pulling his head back to look at you as you writhe against him. His hands skate up your sides and back down, landing on your ass and pushing you harder against his erection. And you get a real good look at his pretty face. His eyes tilt down slightly at the ends and they’re so full of desire. Wonderfully expressive and beautiful. You look up at his brows, smiling to yourself as you notice they’re manicured, just ever so slightly. This man takes care of himself. More than most. His complexion is remarkably smooth. You drag your fingertip down the bridge of his nose to the tip, smiling at the sharpness of it. Then you settle your eyes on his lips as they quirk up into a smile, he likes how you’re looking at him. Admiring him. His lips are plump, pink from the way he’s been biting at them all night.

“You’re pretty,” you whisper, dragging your thumb across his bottom lip and he kisses the pad of it. Sending your stomach ablaze as you roll down on him a little firmer.

“You’re prettier,” he replies, voice husky.

“How come you don’t have a girlfriend?” you ask, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I haven��t asked you, yet,” he tells you, smirking as he smooths his hand up your back to your bra. Unclasps it with two fingers, impressing a gasp from you and he smiles, straight and white teeth on display.

You help pull the straps from your arms and discard the lacy fabric aside, wrapping your arms around his neck again and then leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss. You don’t think too much about what he’d just said, this is fun and you’ve just met. This is the first date, you barely know each other. But while this started out as a lame date, you feel uncharacteristically smitten at this point.

Steve kisses like he needs it. Hungry. Like his oxygen supply comes from your lungs and he’s been suffocating all night. Makes you breathless and dizzy. You whimper into each desperate exchange, sucking on his tongue whenever he slips it past your lips. His arms wrap around your middle, pulling you completely flush against him. Your hands get tangled in his hair yet again, a little obsessed with the way it feels between your fingers. Your noses keep bumping into each other and his pokes your eye a handful of times but it doesn’t slow either of you down.

You lift yourself up and Steve offers a whine until he sees you’re moving to take off your underwear, then he’s helping get them off and you’re situating yourself between his legs on the floor. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his briefs and peeling them down his thighs, gasping when his impressive length pops out and slaps against his abdomen. You give yourself a beat to look at it as Steve spreads his legs and writhes against the couch. Chewing on your bottom lip, you wrap your hands around the base of him. Your fingers don’t even meet when they’re circled around his girth.

“Christ,” you mutter and he laughs, a soft and almost insecure sound.

“I- I know, it’s kind of—“

“Huge?”

“Scary?” he asks, tilting his head as he gazes down at you.

It’s your turn to laugh, wondering how many girls have told him that. You’re not scared, no, the opposite.

“Not scary,” you tell him, “I’m thoroughly impressed.”

“Yeah? I’ve… I’ve been told it’s too—“ he swallows and his eyes squeeze shut as you stroke his length firmly.

“Too big?” you offer and work your hand up and down his gargantuan cock slowly, “I like a challenge, Stevie.”

He laughs again, but it’s a breathless laugh. He opens his eyes again and watches as you lick a broad stripe up the underside of his cock. His eyebrows furrow, lips parting with a sweet whine. You wrap your lips around the head of him, tasting the salty precum leaking from his slit. As you grip onto the base of him and attempt to take him into your mouth, you can feel just how hard he is. You lock your eyes on his, slowly sinking down on his cock. Drool slips past your lips and down the rest of his length, your hand slides up and smears the natural lube over him. You continue like that, fingers moving up and down where you can’t fit him in your mouth. You make a conscious effort to breathe out of your nose and use your tongue while you bob up and down on his cock.

Steve watches intently, thighs shaking as he tries his hardest not to buck his hips up. Just the size of him has spit pooling in your mouth and seeping down his length all the way to his heavy balls. His face looks extra pretty right now. Dazed and drunk on the pleasure, perhaps some of the tequila too.

His hands tangle into your hair, holding it out of the way as you continue your way up and down his cock.

“That’s it,” he breathes out, chest heaving as he praises you, “Doing so good for me.”

Those words hit you, make you moan on his length and wiggle your hips. You try to take him as deep as you can before pulling off, working your fist over his cock as you catch your breath. Once he’s not in your mouth, he bucks his hips and moans out shakily.

“Oh, fuck…” he seethes, his toes curling into the carpet.

You move your mouth to his balls then, still working his shaft in your hand and you start licking at his sack. Keeping your eyes trained on his gorgeous face. Steve blinks rapidly, rolling his hips up and spewing the prettiest little moans. And you’re kind of obsessed with his face at this moment, the absolute pleasure painted on it.

“So fucking pretty,” you tell him because you really can’t help yourself and Steve seems to like it, tugging on your hair and whining.

“C’mere… wanna kiss you,” he babbles out and you stand on shaky legs before crawling back into his lap and kissing him sloppily. He wraps his arms around your middle and thrusts his hips up, the side of his cock gliding through your folds and punching a surprised moan from you, which he swallows. Then his hands move down and firmly plant on your asscheeks. At first you assumed Steve was close to coming but the way he’s grinding you down on his cock tells you otherwise— he just really wanted to kiss you.

Then Steve pulls away, “Can I taste you? Please?”

You’re not inclined to say no to that, nodding your head emphatically and standing up from his lap again. You make a move to lay down on the couch, but Steve’s laying down first and grabbing at you.

“Sit on my face, please,” he whines and you flush, but do as he asks. Maneuvering your leg over his shoulders, you hover and look down at him. As if to ask if he’s sure. Which he answers by pulling you down on him, his warm and wet mouth meeting your dripping cunt. You moan out, hands grabbing onto the armrest to keep yourself upright as Steve devours your aching pussy. He’s moaning into you, seemingly loving the taste as he sucks and licks at your folds. Once you’re comfortable and downright desperate, you begin riding Steve’s gorgeous face. His hands are planted firm on your ass, guiding you through it.

“I’ve been dying to taste you all night,” he manages to tell you, pulling you off of him just the smallest inch before he’s dragging your pussy back down against his eager mouth.

“Fuck, baby,” you mutter out, “You’re so good at that…”

He really is, uses his whole face to do it. Nose rubbing against your clit, tongue teasing your hole while you drip all over his chin. You try to look down at him, lock eyes with his dazed, pussy-drunk ones but the pleasure gets overwhelming and your eyes start to flutter shut as you grind down on his expert tongue and really use his nose to get off. Your stomach fills with fire, your release gaining in ok you quickly. And once Steve’s tongue penetrates you, you’re a goner. Crying out his name in desperate pleas as you ride your orgasm out. You’re shaking when you pull off of him abruptly, worried that you’re about to suffocate him. And as you stand, looking down at him, you can’t help but giggle at the look on his face. Steve looks like he just came. Blinking slowly, a pleased smile plastered on his pink lips.

He stands with you, laces your fingers and kisses you softly. You can taste yourself on his lips but you don’t mind, giggling into it.

“Can I take you to my bedroom?” he asks once he pulls away.

You nod, shyly and looking up at him with stars in your eyes. He guides you up the stairs, stopping along the way to steal kisses. You’re not sure the last time you felt so much romance tangled in with sex. He presses you to the wall next to his bedroom door, swoops his mouth down to capture yours in a disproportionate chaste kiss. Again, linking your fingers and holding them above your head as he connects his forehead to yours.

“Don’t laugh— okay?”

You giggle, gazing up at him curiously, “Sorry. I won’t.” It’s unclear exactly what Steve’s asking you not to laugh at, but once he opens his bedroom door, you get it. It’s the ugliest bedroom you’ve ever seen. Everything is drenched in plaid, the wallpaper, the curtains, the bedspread. All so offensive. You bite your lip to stifle the laugh, but it all dissolves when you turn to watch Steve close the door and get a glimpse at his cock which is very much still hard. Then his bedroom doesn’t seem so silly anymore. Your hand wraps around his length as you press him against the door, kissing him filthy all over again.

Steve whimpers from the touch, muffled against your tongue as he places his hand on your face and holds you while he kisses back.

“I need you,” he slurs into your mouth and you nod, kissing him before you walk towards his bed. You lay yourself on it, head on his pillows as you bring your hands up to fondle your own tits. Watching as Steve’s hand falls down to his cock, stroking himself slowly. He then climbs on top of you, kissing you tenderly before he’s reaching over to his nightstand but something tells you to stop him, so you do. Hand on his wrist.

“No… I,” you swallow, lust driving this decision completely, “I wanna feel you… just you.”

Steve inhales sharply, moves his hand to push his cock down for some relief as he says to you, “Fuck… are you sure?”

You wrap your arms around his neck as you nod slowly at him, spreading your legs for him. He drops his head down to kiss you, all slow and gentle. His hand slips between your bodies, grabbing his cock and teasing the head of it against your aching center. You gasp softly, hands tangled in his hair as your hips roll, causing the tip of his cock to catch on your dripping hole. Steve sinks in slowly, inch by inch. It’s quite the stretch, has your jaw dropping as you adjust. His cock is hot and thick, you can feel it pulsing as it drags against your walls. It’s so delicious and heady, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist and your hips roll up until he’s completely sheathed inside you. And Steve’s gentle, doesn’t jack hammer into you immediately like most men would. He stays still and lets you get used to the feeling, kissing you softly and tenderly between needy moans and gasps.

“Feel so full,” you confess in a whisper and that gets Steve thrusting into you, groaning lowly against your lips.

“Yeah?” he asks, “You’re so fucking wet and tight… squeezing my cock so good.”

“Oh, Steve,” you moan, tugging his hair while he slowly builds a steady and deep rhythm. His hand moves to grab your thigh, squeezing it while he grinds down into you. The tip of his cock prods against that spongy, sweet spot inside you. Punches a yelp out of you to which he looks down at you, panicked.

“You okay?” he asks, blinking rapidly.

You nod, scratching down his back as you plead, “Fuck, yes… right there, do it again.”

A smile spreads across his lips, pretty teeth showing as he thrusts into you again. And again. Your back arches with it, pressing your tits to his chest as your legs spread further on their own volition. You place your hand on his cheek, watching his stunning face as he sinks in and out of your pussy, the filthiest sounds echoing in the room. He licks his lips, brow furrowing as his thrusts get harder and faster. Each time, he rubs against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. Dragging the most pornographic sounds you’ve ever made from your throat. You’re not sure you could recover from this, suddenly really hoping he does ask you to be his girlfriend. The two of you have barely even started and it’s the best you’ve ever felt in your life. His cock filling you in a way that makes you want to cry, in a good way.

“Steeeeeve…” you moan out, low and uncontrollably. “Fuck… that’s so good. Just like that, baby… yes…”

His lips are on your ear now, lowly telling you, “Taking me so well… such a good girl…”

Your cunt clenches around him, little desperate and pleasure filled pants and moans pouring out of you. “Steve, Steve… oh, Steve!” you chant, scratching down his back a second time.

His hips still and he laughs, burying his face in your neck as he mumbles, “Fuck- fuck, don’t wanna cum yet.”

You grab his face and pull his lips to yours, unhooking your legs from his waist as you kiss him deeply. Tongues lazily curling together, panting into each other's open mouths. You give him a beat to come back down, then you’re flipping the pair of you. Get Steve on his back and you on top of him, without disconnecting where you two meet. You place your hands on his furry chest, feeling the jungle of hair you’ve been staring at since he took his shirt off that night. His hands grip onto your hips, gasping and panting as he stares up at you, awestruck look on his beautiful face.

“You’re so pretty,” you tell him again and he laughs, that wonderful breathless sound you’re starting to fall in love with. Which is dangerous but right now, you don’t care.

“I’ve got the prettiest girl on top of me… and she’s telling me I’m pretty,” he mumbles out, dazed smile on his face.

“You are,” you assure him just as you start to rock your hips, face confronting as you feel his cock prod at that sweet spot deep inside you again. Your eyes cross from it, eyebrows knitting together as you bite your lip and you begin riding him steadily. Slow and gentle at first but soon enough, you’re bouncing up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby… just like that…” Steve babbles out, snaking his hand around and his thumb finds your clit easily. Works in quick, firm circles. Has you riding him even faster and harder as your climax threatens to rush over you. Building and building so quickly.

“Steve…. Steve?” you whimper.

Sweet, lopsided smile on his face when he asks, “Yeah, baby?”

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” you confess, scratching your nails against his chest as you grind down on his length.

Steve keeps up his ministrations on your clit, doesn’t switch anything up. But he heaves this happy, aroused laugh and tells you, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock. Use me.”

Your body tenses when it hits you, sending you over the edge and you collapse on top of him. Face buried in his neck as you spew cries and moans. He grabs your hips, holds you steady and plants his feet on the mattress. That’s when he lets loose, thrusts into you with everything he’s worth. Mouthing praise against your ear as he fucks you silly.

Your eyes roll back, his thrusts punching repetitive and loud moans from your lungs.

“Fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns and squirms underneath you but you make no attempt to move.

“Fill me up, Steve,” you whisper against his ear, kissing under it and then telling him, “Wanna feel it. Cum inside me, baby.”

He lets out a gargled moan, arms wrapping around you firmly as he thrusts one last time and releases inside you, coating your walls with his spend. Your lips meet again, lazily and spent kisses as you both come down.

Steve strokes your hair, holds you close and kisses your cheek before he asks, “You wanna stay the night?”

“Yeah.. yeah, I do,” you reply, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead. “As long as you make you breakfast.”

“I’ll make you anything you want,” he says with a smile before flipping you over and kissing you deeply.

And okay… maybe it wasn’t such a lame date.

[vienssunshine]

That feel good?

pairing: Nanami x fem reader nsfw word count: under 1k author's note: This came to me and I just had to write it down and could not stop until it was done

It’s dangerous how thoughtful Nanami is when he touches you. He exploits any insight your body offers into what drives you wild with ruthless precision.

You’re in his lap, head dizzy from the endless kisses and nips placed intentionally on your weak spots. You’ve only been making out for fifteen minutes and already Nanami has intoxicated you with his touch, evident by the way you're melting into his firm chest.

He's able to put you under some kind of spell, reverting your body to its primal instincts and making it only want one thing: him. It’s why, with his hands and mouth all over you, you can’t help but mindlessly grind into his lap, searching for more contact on your aching cunt. Though, when the big hands on your hips pull you down so you’re pressed against the erection pushing through his slacks, you jolt up and away. 

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” Nanami reacts to your sudden movement, bringing a soothing hand to your face. You stare back, eyes wide and heart pounding. Feeling him there, his length flat against everything your wet underwear cups, was pleasurable and intense in a way you aren’t used to. 

“I didn’t expect…um–that–that felt really good,” you say, still bewildered by the sensation.

“Did it?” he responds. He loves discovering new things about your body, especially if it's by accident. “Then let’s keep doing that.” 

He moves to bring you down to his lap again, but you don't let him. “Kento, it’s…it’s a lot,” you mumble, even though you’re leaning into him, eyes lidded as you place your hands on his large shoulders.

He lets out an uneven breath before pressing a slow, hot kiss to the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter. “I know, darling,” he whispers against your skin, “I know it’s a lot, but I think my pretty girl can do it for me. I think she wants to.”

Eyes shut in bliss, you nod along to the gruff yet calming words he's murmuring into the crook of your neck. They're reminding you of how your body is throbbing with want.

“Okay,” you hum, your voice small.

“Here, let’s go slowly,” he coaxes, “You’re going to do so good.”

Your grip tightens on his broad shoulders as he sits you back down on his lap, your soaked underwear flush against the bulge in his pants. It’s manageable, the feeling of your folds up against his erection, until he starts using your hips to move you.

His name leaves your mouth as a whimper. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, the pleasure folding you in two. He still has his work clothes on, but they do little to buffer the warmth radiating off of his body or the intensity of feeling him against you.

“Fuck,” you gasp, “Kento, it’s–ah–”

“I know, pretty girl,” he responds, his voice strained and breath ragged. “Doing so good for me.” 

“I am?” you choke out. It doesn't feel like it, you're having a hard time keeping up with the increasing pace he’s setting; there’s not a second of relief from the stimulation. 

“Yes, darling,” he responds, a big hand coming up to stroke your back in comforting circles, knowing what you need from him to endure the spikes of pleasure sinking into your lower stomach.

“Does it–ah–feel good–for you too?” you ask. The question seems unnecessary with the way he’s bucking his hips against your warm cunt. 

“Feels incredible, love,” he grunts, and pride swells through your chest. You pick your head up and press your lips to his in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. He groans into your mouth while his other hand comes up from your side—though you keep grinding against him—to hold your face still so he can deepen the kiss. 

However, when your hips begin to stutter, the pleasure overwhelming your poor body, his hands go back down and lock around them, mercilessly bringing you to your breaking point. "Kento, m'so close," you gasp.

Of course you are, Nanami has learned exactly what your body needs from him. He knows to talk you through the pleasure that's hitting you like punches as you abuse your sensitive clit, to whisper how good you did as you come down from your orgasm, to wrap his arms around you and bring you into his large, warm chest now that you're all fucked-out.

It is dangerous, how he has the ability to have you humping his lap like a desperate animal. Yet, you’re not too worried about it, because when you get up off of him, you realize that you aren’t the only one who came in their pants.

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | four.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 5.4k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, oc is getting whiplash from prof. choi's lab culture lmao, very vague/general descriptions of mice research work, prof. choi to the rescue fr,  lots and LOTS of tension, yes i promise the ending counts as foreshadowing because shit will hit the roof in 5!!

A couple of days later, you and Sunwoo are finally putting the newly built behavior rig to use. A couple of days later, you find yourself becoming way too distracted by Professor Choi.

A couple of days later, Sunwoo is asking you to text your professor about some mice issues?

"Can you do me a favor?" Sunwoo pouts. "Pretty please?"

"What?" You tease and cross your arms.

"Can you take a picture and text it to Professor Choi? Ask him if it's okay to move forward with the vet's recommendations for the mice?"

"Text him?" Sunwoo looks at you and nods, flashing you Professor Choi's number on his own phone screen.

"We usually text him if it's something really urgent and needs his attention."

"You guys don't just do this in a Slack chat or something?"

"Trust me, he's probably the worst with Slack. I don't even think the guy has it downloaded on his phone so it's easily accessible." Sunwoo chuckles. "Y/N, I promise. It's fine. I'm not setting you up for trouble." You let out a small sigh and pull out your phone to take pictures. You're not really sure why you're hesitant, it definitely was a thing in Professor Bahng's lab, too. You're probably just used to the older cohorts of professors that required everything to be sent through email, Slack maybe. The new wave? Definitely a bunch of texters.

you: hi professor choi, this is y/n! i'm with sunwoo and he asked me to send this picture to you of one of our mice. the vet said he's really sick and we should go with a different treatment plan for it. it'll cost a little more if we do, but it should help get the mouse back on track. can we move forward?

San is paused mid-workout when he gets your text, sweat dripping down from his forehead when he zooms into the picture, analyzes a bit and lets out a sigh.

prof. choi: yes please!

you: got it!

prof. choi: could i trouble you and sunwoo to make sure there aren't any other sick mice?

you: of course! sorry about that. ☹️

prof. choi: all good, it happens! no need to apologize for anything. thank you. ☺️

prof. choi: also, can you have him charge it to our outreach account? he'll know and could probably pass along the finance info to you.

you: of course!

prof. choi: 😬

"He said it's fine and to charge it to the outreach account." Sunwoo raises his brow.

"He answered you already? I thought we'd have to make rounds in this room before he responded."

"Yeah?"

"Jeez, what's the trick? I feel like I have to bombard him sometimes."

"I literally just got here, I have no trick." You laugh.

"Sure." Sunwoo laughs and shrugs it off. "Anyway, sounds good! Thanks. Let's go take care of these mice and make sure the rest are fine."

"He said that, too."

"Figured! Always gotta be one step ahead of him. That's the only way to survive here." You laugh and follow Sunwoo deeper into the mice room, looking through the rest of the mice to make sure none of them are as sick. You help him wean a couple and split them into different cages, the last half of the walkthrough consisting of making sure everything else looks good. When you get back to the basement, you spend a bit of time helping Belle before starting on the first half of your behavior experiment with Sunwoo. It's a lot of work spent in a dark room, surrounded by bright computer lights— time moves quick, but your energy drains quicker.

When you finally catch a break after the past few hours of working alongside of Sunwoo, you wander down the halls to head to the bathroom and get a snack. You freshen up after relieving yourself, feeling a bit icky after being in a stuffy room, the stuffy basement, all afternoon. You prance over to the vending machine down the hall, grabbing some peanut m&ms to munch to satisfy your sweet tooth. Just as you turn the hall to walk back towards the office, Professor Choi walks out of one of the rooms, damn near colliding with you once again.

"Woah, hey. Sorry." He says, his arm out in case of any minor collisions.

"You're good, Professor Choi." He smiles, eyes shifting down to the bag of m&ms in your hand. 

"Sweet tooth?"

"Need some sugar. Been cooped up with the rooms with Sunwoo."

"You're gonna take a break, right?"

"I will." You give him a toothless smile. "Sorry about texting you earlier. Sunwoo said it was fine, but I don't know. I still feel bad somehow." Professor Choi laughs before shaking his head.

"It really is fine, I promise you Y/N. Especially in that case. You can text or call me for emergency purposes." You pause, unsure how to respond. "I mean it."

"Okay, okay." You chuckle. "I will." He smiles at you before clutching his laptop close to his hip and checking his watch.

"Good. I'll see you later, gotta run off to prepare for this symposium with Professor Bahng."

"Symposium?"

"Mhm. He's leading one next month."

"Are you doing a talk?" He nods.

"Yeah unless he boots me out of the agenda for whatever reason." You giggle and shake your head. "You'll be there whenever it happens, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Can't miss that."

"Good answer." He smirks. "And Y/N?"

"Mhm?"

"Hope that's not gonna be dinner for you. Don't skip meals on me, please." You silently nod, waving him off before turning on your heel to head back to your desk.

That same evening, you have never been so grateful for having listened to a professor. It was such a tiny detail when Professor Choi told you to save his number for emergency purposes, and here you are experiencing said emergency purpose. 

You were wrapping up your behavior experiment in one of the lab rooms, excited to finally leave the small room and the darkness behind. You had set your mice down on the cart, taking a few notes on an index card to jot into your lab notebook later on— which, you probably shouldn't have left your notebook in the office area in the first place. You needed to reference something mid-note-taking about the mouse's behavior, but you couldn't. When you decided to run out and grab your notes, the door handle flew off and locked you inside.

Fuck.

You tried your best not to panic, but the room felt like it was closing in on you with how small the space was. How dark the room was, felt like it was getting darker by the minute despite the computers giving off light in the far corners. Trapped between these behavior rigs and the gazillion computers, microscopes and lasers. There was no way to re-attach the handle, or so you couldn't see any possible way, and there was nothing that could help you unlock the door from the inside. The worse part of it all is that none of your texts or calls to Sunwoo are going through due to the sucky ass service in the basement, and you know he's busy doing some neuron culturing off in the wetlab room nearby.

He's definitely not checking his phone, and he's probably not going to check on you anytime soon.

Your mind immediately goes to Professor Choi next. It could be a long shot, but you decide to pace the room, hoping the call could go through at some point. This could be considered an emergency purpose, right? He wouldn't think you're silly for contacting him because of a door handle, no?

You definitely should save the facilities and security numbers, too.

"Hello?"

"Oh. Hi!" You're wide-eyed when the call actually goes through in this one spot of the room, Professor Choi's sultry, deep voice picking up on the other end.

"Hey Y/N. Everything alright?"

"Um, no? I'm kinda embarrassed to say this but I'm stuck in the W072 behavior room. The door knob inside flew off so I can't even open the door." He smiles to himself before letting out a small breath.

"Sorry, yeah. That door's been having major issues. I'll have to ask facilities what's going on with that. I'll be over in about 5 minutes."

"I'm so sorry. I really am embarrassed, I hope I'm not pulling you from—"

"You don't need to worry." He chuckles. "You're not pulling me away from anything. I could use the break anyway. Be there for you soon. Hang tight for me, hm?" You bite onto your bottom lip and nod as if he can see you.

"Mmkay. Thank you."

"You're welcome." And with that, the call ends. You're awkwardly sitting on the computer chair in the dark room, nothing but the sounds of computers whirring in the background; sounds of the mice scrambling around their cages, a little desk lamp and the computers the only source of light. You barely have service down here, and you're eternally grateful the call actually went through to Professor Choi's phone. 

You'd be stuck here until Sunwoo decides to randomly pop in, if he randomly pops in. Until who fucking knows when, really.

Professor Choi arrives within that 5 minute mark, and he startles you by the way he swings the door open. He's wearing a Stussy shirt and jeans, sporting that same, dimpled smile of his that you're finding is becoming a weakness for you. 

"Hey you." He says. "You okay?"

"Yeah, thank you." You stand, the broken door handle in hand. "Uh, I have this?" He laughs before wedging the small trash can in between the door frame and the door itself.

"Let me see." He says, gently taking the door handle from your hand. You watch from behind as he crouches down to see if he can temporarily re-attach the damn thing. I mean truthfully, he is also trying to look useful and attractive in front of you somehow. Even though he doesn't know what the fuck is going on. "Uh." He hums, making you giggle.

"Maybe you should leave it for facilities." He turns to you with a playful glare.

"Saying I can't fix it?"

"I mean, doesn't look like it." He playfully tuts and stands, setting the door handle aside. "We might both get stranded here."

"That wouldn't be too bad, now would it?" He looks at you with such a shit-eating smirk, it causes you to shy away and release eye contact before you break. "But, you're right. There are things I'm better off with and that's not fixing door handles." He pouts and you shake your head.

"We can't always be great at everything, Professor Choi." You tease.

"Yeah." He lets out a small laugh. "Were you finished in here?"

"Uh, yeah. I just need to put the mice away." You lazily point at the cart behind you with a few cages sitting on top.

"Let me help."

"Oh no, I promise, I'm okay."

"I wanna." He slips on some gloves and starts dragging the cart towards the opposite end of the behavior room where the mice are housed. They sit behind blackout curtains and on ventilated shelves, some sitting a bit higher up that require a small step-stool to reach. You start setting the cages into their open spots in the middle row, but the last three need to be placed on the very stop shelf. "Where do these guys go?"

"Up there." You point and he smiles, grabbing two of the cages for you. 

"Got you. Careful, your head. I'm gonna reach over." He says from right behind you, his long arms reaching above to slip them into the open slots. You freeze, eyes watching him grab the last cage and slip it onto the shelf. "Good?" You turn to face him. He's still standing in the same position, not giving you much room to work with in this tiny corner.

"Mhm." You look up at him and god, does he like looking at you from this angle. "Thank you, Professor Choi."

"You're welcome." He matches your soft tone. With how close you are, you can smell his cologne lingering in the air. 

"You're always coming to my rescue."

"I don't mind. I'd do it again if I needed to." He ticks his head to the side. "Gotta give Sunwoo a little talk about not taking care of you properly."

"He's doing a very good job, I promise." You don't know what the hell comes over you, but you tap him against the chest lightly— and you almost lose it. First, out of embarrassment, but second, because of how firm his chest felt. You knew he worked out, but damn; you were wondering how well built and toned he actually was. He doesn't do anything, though. He's still looking at you with a small smile etched on his lips. You can tell he's having a slight internal debate on whether or not he should also tease and play around. 

He knows he can't. Doesn't mean he won't.

"Oh yeah?" He starts as he steps a little closer to test the waters. His eyes are flicking across your features as if he's trying to study you and study you well. It's a bit obvious he's itching to do something— brush your hair back, put a hand on your waist. Something, anything—

"Yo, you all good in there?" You hear Sunwoo's voice at the door, causing you to abruptly step aside and wipe your sweaty palms down your pants. "Oh shit, woah! Professor Choi out in the wild! What's going on?" Sunwoo fully steps into the behavior room and places his hands on his hips, San giving off a hearty laugh at his comment.

"The door handle flew off." Is all you say while pointing at it sitting on the edge of the table. "I tried calling and texting you but none of them went through. Professor Choi had to come save me." Sunwoo nods nonchalantly. Luckily, it doesn't seem like he thinks anything is strange or odd. Definitely didn't catch you two being only inches away from each other, damn near pressed up against one another. You're curious as to what Professor Choi would've done next, and now, you may never know.

Welp.

"The hell did you do?" Sunwoo laughs. "Just started and already breaking things?" He teases.

"You know that door's been an issue since forever." San chimes in.

"I know, I'm just teasing." You roll your eyes. "Anyway, are you all good in here?"

"Mhm. I uploaded everything onto the server."

"Sweet. I'll take a look in a bit." You watch Sunwoo as he starts to leave the room, grabbing your notebook and laptop from the other table before following suit.

"Thank you again, Professor Choi." You give him a cute smile that he finds himself admiring, being last to leave the room.

"Of course, Y/N. I'll come save you any time you need me to." You let out a small laugh before shaking your head and catching up to Sunwoo. He bites onto his bottom lip as he sheds off his gloves and tucks his hands into his pockets, letting the both of you be as he heads back into his office. Once he's inside, he lets out a hefty sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose because fuck.

He needs to control himself better.

"Fuck." He finally says outloud, slightly stressed over you and those pretty eyes. 

Pretty lips. 

Pretty smile. 

He plops back down onto his office chair, shaking off the thoughts before proceeding to check his inbox and review his final draft of the progress report. He needed to find any distraction right now; his thoughts, judgment even, slowly being clouded by you.

—FLASHBACK

"I think I'm getting this all wrong." You rest your head on the library table, reviewing your journal club presentation lazily.

"Why do you think that, Y/N? The way you interpret the paper is gonna make sense to the lab. Journal club is meant for you guys to build off of it and have a discussion." Jiung continues to work on his homework across from you.

"I know, I'm just nervous for some reason."

"Then just send your email to Professor Choi to see if he'll go over it with you. Give you peace of mind." You sigh.

"Yeah. He's probably gonna be so done with me after the past few days." Jiung snorts.

"Imagine if he hadn't saved you." His laugh grows. "How the fuck would you have gotten out?"

"I'd like to believe that Sunwoo would have at least checked on me." He nods.

"Yeah, maybe. Glad you're okay, though. What did Professor Choi say?" You shrug, completely [and obviously] leaving out the details about the close moments you've had with him.

"Nothing. He just came to get me and that was it." Jiung nods silently, giving you the opportunity to type away on Outlook to send Professor Choi an email.

From: yn@atz.edu To: choisan@atz.edu Hi Prof. Choi, Do you have some time to go over the paper I chose for journal club on Monday? I just want to make sure I'm getting the format and processes right. Here's my presentation attached. Best, Y/N

You minimize the window and continue to work on other things, hoping you can meet with Professor Choi and talk about it soon—

To: yn@atz.edu From: choisan@atz.edu Sure! We can go over it tomorrow if you'd like? 11am good?  - San

"He responded." Jiung hums as a response.

"Nice. What did he say?"

"We can meet tomorrow to go over it."

"See, that's good! I'm sure it'll be fine, but at least you can get Professor Choi's input for your first journal club." You nod.

"Yeah. Hopefully it is fine."

—END

You take your knuckles to the surface of Professor Choi's door, giving it a good two, three soft knocks before you hear a faint 'come in' from the other side. You swing the door open, finding Professor Choi diligently typing away as he sits at his desk. His brows are tightly knit together, and he's wearing a simple white button-up; but today, he's got black glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey Y/N." He says. "Sorry, give me a sec. I just need to respond to this email really quickly."

"No worries." You sit on the couch. "Take your time." His lips curve into a small smile just as he types away, then clicks to send it off. 

"Alright. Hi." He smiles his usual, dimpled smile, black strands framing his forehead. "How's it going?"

"Good. How about you?"

"I'm alright, can't complain." He chuckles. "So, you wanted to talk about journal club? I checked your powerpoint and everything seemed fine. What's wrong?"

"I just feel like I'm not getting it right."

"Why do you think that way? You know, journal club is for us to discuss the paper as a lab. You don't have to get everything right, Y/N."

"But, still." You pout and San almost melts into a puddle in his seat. Fuck, he thinks. This is gonna be difficult. "I just wanna make sure I'm at least getting the process or the concept of the paper correct." Professor Choi stands and walks around his desk and it's your turn to internally lose it. He's got on black slacks but they fit him so well— his outfit fits him so well, you don't think you've ever seen someone built so.. perfectly.

"Wanna walk though it?" You barely hear the question as your eyes continue to [subtly] glaze over his figure, and he surely catches on.

How much more obvious can you be?

Well, how could he not know how attractive he is? Him and his friends are a consistent, hot topic on campus.

He's so damn fine. He knows it.

"Y/N?" He leans back against the edge of his desk, snapping you out of your thoughts. He's got a leg crossed over the other, arms crossed tightly against his chest. His head is tilted while he watches you, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while you shift your eyes back up to meet his. You're sure you aren't seeing things. You're almost positive Professor Choi's subtly feeding into this, right? "Lost you there?" 

"Yes. Sorry." You purse your lips together. "Got distracted."

"Hm." He hums, licking his lips. "Over what?"

"Nothing." You smile and shrug it off like it's nothing even though it clearly isn't. He knows, and he's not entirely mad about it one bit. It's a relief he's not the only one; question is, who's gonna be the first to break? San knows he can't, and it's a game he hates to play. 

Doesn't mean he won't.

"Didn't seem like nothing."

"Swear." You stand to walk over to the whiteboard on his wall, grabbing a colored marker to start doodling out your thoughts for the journal club paper.

"Lying to me again?" He teases.

"I would never lie to you, Professor Choi." He chuckles, coming behind you as you continue to write. 

"That's nice to know. I hope you know you can tell me anything, though." You pause, letting his words marinate. No, you don't know that. You don't think you can tell him how fine he is or how much you wanna jump his bones, not at all.

"I'm just confused." You continue your writing. The statement goes for a couple of things: the journal club paper, some of the data that you and Sunwoo have from recent behavior work, Professor Choi himself. "I need to know if I'm understanding it correctly." You point to the board, slowly turning over your shoulder to look at him. "I don't wanna misread anything." He subtly bites onto his bottom lip before stepping closer and taking the marker from your hand, drawing a huge circle around your writings.

"You're not." And for San, that statement can also go for a couple of things: your overthinking, the way you feel silly for questioning your understanding of the paper, you. "If it's one thing I can tell you Y/N— it's to not overthink and question every little thing. You'll waste time doing that when you've had it right all along." He looks at you and gives you one final reassurance: "You're not misreading any of this."

"Okay." You respond softly, eyes shifting to his lips and back up to his almond-shaped eyes. For some reason, this no longer feels like it's about the paper. For some reason, it feels like he's telling you he's on the same page, like he wants you just as bad as you want him. For some reason, you no longer feel like you're just delusional and in your feelings— even though, everything about this is completely wrong and against the code. It could fuck everything up for the both of you.

But, you don't care. 

He doesn't either.

"So, tell me again." He clears his throat. You watch his adam's apple bob when he swallows, capping the marker as he sits back on the corner of his desk and looks at you. "What's your understanding about their process?" You continue to write on the board, explaining your understanding of the paper. Professor Choi continues to sit closely behind you, nodding in agreement as you talk him through it. He saw your presentation and he didn't find any flaws with it; he's not sure why you're second guessing yourself when you did everything correctly.

You've done everything perfectly.

"Y/N." He says lowly, almost near your ear. "You've got it down. Don't second guess yourself."

"I can't help it."

"Trust me, don't. You'll make it more complicated than it needs to be. That was perfect. Your presentation was great."

"Should I fix anything?"

"No."

"Professor Choi. Are you lying to me now?" He chuckles.

"Is that what you think of me?" He's fighting with himself, closing his hand into a fist to fight the urge to tuck your hair behind your ear. He continues to keep his eyes on yours, though. "You know I could never do that."

"I'll take your word for it." In the end, you've gotten the reassurance you felt like you needed, you yearned for. But, in the end, you've also grown more confidence— enough to believe that Professor Choi was in the same boat as you. Because he is, he just can't say it out loud right now. This has nothing to do with the lab. His work. Your rotation, your projects.

This is all about you, and just you.

"Good." His tone drops before he checks his phone. He lets out a sigh, a small frown growing on his lips. How the hell did 30 mins go by so fast? "Shit. I gotta run to another meeting." He says softly, eyes quickly shifting around you facial features. "Is it okay if we continue this on the phone later? Just to make sure you've got everything before journal club on Monday?"

"S-sure." You quickly look at his lips, back up to his eyes. "Yeah, sure."

"5pm okay for me to call?"

"Dinner time for you?"

"Mm, not really. Dinner is whenever I feel hungry." You chuckle and nod. "What about you?"

"I can eat after."

"Okay, 5pm."

"Thank you, Professor Choi."

"You're welcome." He smiles toothlessly, watching as you carefully walk past him and grab your things. Again, he fights the temptation to pull you by the waist and press you flush against his body—

Doing things only he can imagine in his head.

"Are you walking out or are you doing a Zoom meeting?" San forces himself to snap out of it, lowly clearing his throat as he walks around and plops onto his computer chair. 

"Zoom. Talk later?" You smile before waving, leaving San to his peace. The tension in the room feels like it's finally gone, finally been lifted. He almost felt a little suffocated in his own office while having you there— but it's only because of how you make him feel, and now obviously, how he makes you feel. He lets out a hefty sigh, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes before hopping into the Zoom call about budgets and the status of his current grants. 

The meeting goes on for so long, it feels like. The whole afternoon is a drag and San feels exhausted by the time it hits 4pm. He's skipping out on the gym today, still a little sore from yesterday's workout. As soon as he wraps up his last meeting, he packs up and leaves, saying goodbye to the one or two heads still lingering in the office area. 

He still has enough groceries at home to make it through to the weekend, so he doesn't take any pitstops on the way home. He lets out a huge sigh when he finally pulls into his garage and parks the car, stepping out of his shoes and setting his bag aside in his office. He jogs upstairs to take a hot, steamy shower— enough to help relieve the stress from the week's activities. He throws on some flannel pajama pants and a white tee, heading back downstairs to throw some salmon and vegetables in the oven before cooking rice. 

While waiting for his dinner to finish, he settles back down in his office and pulls up your contact info from the text thread just as it's about to hit 5pm. He leans back against the chair, listening to the phone ring on the other line.

"Hi." You pick up so sweetly and it immediately brings a smile to San's face despite his long afternoon.

"Hi. Still a good time to talk?" You sit on your couch, presentation popped up on your laptop. 

"Yeah, it is." 

"How was the rest of your afternoon?"

"It was okay. I just finished working with Belle on a few things after our meeting."

"Is that going well?"

"Yeah." You chuckle a bit. "I really like working with Sunwoo and Belle."

"I'm glad to hear that. That's all that matters." He pulls up your presentation, clicking through it as his eyes skim each slide. 

"How was yours, Professor Choi?"

"Ah, well. Really long. But, it's over with." He laughs. "So, I'm skimming through your presentation and everything looks fine. I think the one thing I'll say is, maybe you should add another slide to talk about the results that didn't pan out well. I know we typically don't do stuff like that, but it helps us discuss what went wrong and what they should've done to get the end result they wanted."

"Oh, yeah. I was thinking about that but wasn't sure if I should."

"You definitely should. Remember what I said about not second-guessing yourself?" He says in a light-hearted tone that has you rolling your eyes and holding in a big smile.

"I know, I know." 

"I think the only other thing I'd add is a slide on Figure 2 and 3. It isn't much, but it does relate a lot to what we do in lab. Think you can handle that?"

"Yeah, I can."

"Yeah?" He repeats, sinking into his seat with his legs spread. "Good." He hears you typing away before you sigh, pausing the conversation for a brief moment while you gather your thoughts and take notes.

"What else are you doing this evening, Professor Choi?" You finally break the silence after a few.

"Hm." He hums. "Just talking to you." You can hear the smirk through the phone, see it even. You bite your bottom lip and shift your position on the couch, heat rising to your cheeks— pooling at your core replaying the deep tone he speaks in.

"Nothing else?"

"Don't really need to do anything else while I'm on the phone with you, no." You sit on his statement, hand toying with the string from your sweats. He doesn't need to do anything else because he's on the phone with you? You take it as a compliment, one that has your heart beating through your chest, palms all sweaty again. He was going to be the death of you.

"Y/N! Let's go! I'm hungry!" You hear Felix from the other side of your door, and San does, too. He lets out a silent chuckle, a little sad he's gonna have to let you go eventually.

"Is there anything else I should do?"

"For?" He questions because his mind is running through a million thoughts at once. You are very much talking about journal club, but he's very much thinking about other things; ways to push you and him forward.

"The slides."

"No. That's all, Y/N. It's perfect."

"Thank you."

"Y/N! Please! They have the best menu tonight, we need to go before everyone gets there!" Felix whines, making the rest of your friends laugh as he pounds on the door. "What are you even doing anyway?!"

"I gotta go." You sigh and shut your laptop. "My friends are about to bust my door down." He chuckles.

"Well, hope the call helped, Y/N."

"It did, Professor Choi. All of this did. Thank you again."

"Course. Have a good night." 

"You too." San subtly nibbles on his bottom lip as he hears you breathily respond, the tone and sound of your voice immediately doing things to him. He clears his throat to rid himself of the thoughts, to rid himself of the feeling, distracting himself with the unread emails sitting in his inbox and the random announcements for the week.

Well now, Namjoon's sudden group text with him, Jongho, Christopher, Mingi and Yeosang.

namjoon: my brilliant, all-star fellas

chris: oh lord, what is it?

namjoon: 😀 need ya'll to attend the happy hour event

yeosang: to babysit? yaaaay love this time of the year...... !!

namjoon: lol no, just to hang out! please 🥹 gotta show the students we're involved in student life esp at the start of the new quarter. you know this!

jongho: they run around in our labs and play w/ our equipment

jongho: how much more involved do we need to be exactly

san: 🤣 what're the details again? sorry i totally glazed over that email. it's probably in my trash bin actually

namjoon: all that energy put into announcements just for you to trash it 🫤

namjoon: tomorrow, starts at 7pm at the monroe bar

san: i'll be there

mingi: same

yeosang: 🫡

jongho: 👍🏼

namjoon: knew i could trust my boys!

jongho: make the dean give me and san some real estate

namjoon: putting my phone on dnd now 😅

namjoon: jk yes don't worry, i'll work my magic ok. give me a bit of time, but i got you. 

namjoon: thanks guys, have a good evening!

San lets out a breath when he sets his phone aside and runs a hand down his face, mustering all the energy he has left to get his dinner together and onto a plate. He can't, though. His thoughts are too stuck on you, and the way you look. The way you act around him. The way you sound on the phone.

With how big the welcome back happy hour event tends to be, there's no doubt you'll be there with your friends. And as much as San is excited to see you outside of the lab, enjoying yourself in a bar with your friends—

He knows it's equally, incredibly dangerous for him.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension

[burst-of-iridescent]

Writing a Final Battle: Kung Fu Panda vs ATLA

every day i think about how the po & shen battle at the end of kung fu panda 2 is everything the aang & ozai battle at the end of atla should have been and get frustrated at the wasted potential all over again.

i’ll cut the show some slack in that the personal nature of po & shen’s relationship was never going to be possible in atla given the 100 year time jump, and that ozai himself wasn’t personally responsible for the air nomad genocide, which naturally undercuts their individual connection. but given that the final agni kai fulfilled the character-based conflict of the finale anyway, it fell to the aang-ozai battle to represent the thematic one, and it fell incredibly short where kfp 2 absolutely delivered.

it’s threaded throughout the narrative of the movie that po and shen are two sides of the same coin: black and white, yin and yang, goodness and madness. they both see themselves (po in kfp 2, at least) as orphans, plagued by fears that they were abandoned and unloved. both flee from a past they’re too afraid to face, tormented by wounds they believe won’t heal, shackled to a destiny they refuse to give up. the existence of one threatens the survival of the other; shen is foretold to be defeated by a warrior of black & white, while po cannot be the dragon warrior, the title that gave him a home and identity and belonging, in a world without kung fu — the world that shen is trying to create.

even without po’s personal connection to shen as the one responsible for his mother’s death and the loss of his community, thematically the two mirror each other perfectly. and it is this mirroring that makes the moment of their divergence so impactful and essential to the narrative: that while po stops running from his past, shen is never able to do so. it’s in making the choice to accept what happened to him & find peace in who he is that po triumphs over shen, and so illustrates the themes of the movie perfectly: that your past need not determine your future. that you cannot avoid your destiny, but you can shape the road you take to meet it, and that choice is yours and yours alone.

where po exemplifies the choice for peace, for healing, for acceptance, shen represents the choice to perpetuate violence, pain, self-loathing — and the brutal, inevitable self-destruction waiting at the end of that path. a classic writing technique for a thematic conflict, executed brilliantly: to have the hero and villain rise or fall by the virtues they stand for.

now compare this to aang and ozai.

i’ve talked before about how this battle fails from a character perspective for aang, but it also fails thematically as a result. following the constructed narrative up to the southern raiders, what should have happened in this battle was aang winning because he drew wisdom from different places, using bending techniques and knowledge from all four nations, and ozai losing as a consequence of his own destructive pride and reliance on firebending alone. instead, the unity vs individualism, balance vs domination theme set up from the start with the idea of the avatar falls completely by the wayside as the battle focuses on air nomad pacifism vs fire nation violence instead — an unsubstantiated, last minute ass pull of a conflict chucked in for no good reason.

but fine, we’ll bite. it’s not a bad conflict, in theory, just poorly set up. the execution might still have worked, if not for the fact that a) the means of this pacifism is entirely unearned and b) the choice to save ozai’s life is not about ozai at all, but about aang.

po’s victory feels earned because not only did the movie set the means of this victory up well in advance — introducing the chekhov’s gun of the dew drop and inner peace in the first ten minutes — it also perfectly aligned his external conflict (defeating shen) with his internal conflict (coming to terms with the pain of his past). in other terms, it’s the classic Want vs Need: po’s want (saving kung fu) is only achieved through first meeting his need (accepting who he is and where he came from, in its entirety).

aang, on the other hand, is given the solution to his external conflict through lion turtle ex machina, and Rock of Mega Convenience, neither of which was found as a result of his own choices or autonomy. it’s like if po showed up at the final battle with shen having skipped the entirety of the scene at the soothsayer’s, and yet is able to redirect the metal balls anyway because… well who the fuck knows, just go with it.

and that’s bad enough, except then it’s compounded by the fact that aang gets his Want (maintaining his people’s values & his moral purity) by doing… uh… *checks notes* Fucking Nothing. there is no Want vs Need here at all; aang didn’t have to sacrifice anything, or undergo any internal struggle, to receive the power of energybending. (and no, being “pure of heart” in order to energybend doesn’t count — a potential moral decline or losing air nomad values through assimilation to a changed world was never an arc set up for aang, and so cannot be counted as a feasible Need.)

and as the cherry on top of this clusterfuck of terrible writing comes the moment where aang chooses to spare ozai, a scene intended to convey the triumph of the air nomads’ compassion and pacifism over the fire nation’s brutality, a scene meant to have incredible pathos and meaning… and which accomplishes neither of the above.

po trying to spare shen is genuinely moving because the scene is framed around shen. it’s about the fact that despite every terrible thing shen has done — in that moment po sees in him only someone as lost and confused and pained as he was, someone clinging to a grand destiny to cure, in vain, the wounds of the past. someone po himself might have been in another life, another time. po’s compassion is for shen and shen alone, with no ulterior benefit to himself, and you get the sense that deep down — at least for a moment — shen wants to believe in the kindness and hope po is offering. that’s what makes it genuine and gives the scene such gravitas.

by contrast, the scene between aang and ozai is framed around aang, not ozai. aang is the one who wants to spare ozai. aang is the one who benefits from leaving ozai alive, because he doesn’t need to sacrifice his morals or beliefs. aang is the one getting his wish, not ozai — who would likely choose death over defeat and losing his bending anyway. this isn’t helped by the fact that the fire lord is inherently a far less tragic & compelling figure than shen because a) he exists largely as an antagonistic force than a character in his own right for most of the series, and b) aang and ozai don’t have an existing relationship to add depth to this moment, the way zuko and azula do.

as such, the one-sided nature of the conflict only strengthens the impression that saving ozai’s life is all about what aang wants, not ozai — which makes the message of the scene seem a lot more “if you’re the hero, you’ll get everything you want with absolutely no cost or consequences” and a lot less “compassion always triumphs over cruelty” (which was probably the intention).

ultimately, the po vs shen battle works where aang vs ozai fails because:

1. the themes embodied by the characters manifest beautifully in their individual arcs, and in their eventual victory and defeat, respectively

2. they contrast each other thematically and narratively, and their individual endings are earned through their own agency from start to finish, with their external conflicts being linked to and resolved through their internal character struggles

3. the set up of the conflict is carefully planned and thoughtfully executed, and the payoff follows through perfectly every step of the way

tldr: kung fu panda will always be the superior asian-inspired fantasy about a chosen one confronting his destiny as the saviour of the world & the day we can acknowledge as a society that po’s character arc is a thousand times better and more well-written than aang’s is the day i will finally know peace.

[yallthemwitches]

House Guest

“Potter—what are you doing here?”

“Happy Christmas! I know I could have waited until we got back to school but—”

His voice trailed off. What should he say? But I missed you? But I’ve been thinking about you night and day since the moment I met you? But we left for holidays just after you kissed me in the common room unprovoked and I really really would like to do that again?

Another extra fluffy, 6th year xmas fic for @jilytoberfest Day 8, Prompt “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime”

AO3 Link Here

 James stood in the garden memorizing the wood grains of the Evans’ front door. He shifted his weight back and forth, hoping that his parasympathetic nervous system would kick in before he possibly made a complete ass of himself. Like a hum in his ear, Sirius’ voice pushed him on.

“Birds love surprises, Prongs—she’s gonna be chuffed.”

But then again how many times had he steered him wrong? A lot.

He closed his eyes, tight enough until it hurt and felt his hand hover over the door before making a few raps with his knuckles. Courageous…Gryffindor…not at all nutter behavior…

The door swung open. A girl older than Lily with mousy blonde hair stared up at him, mouth set in a frown. 

“Yes?”

James cleared his throat. On a second scan of her face, he could see the same shape of almond eyes as Lily, same slender nose, like looking at some completely flawed interpretation of her. 

“Uhm, Is this the Evans’ residence? I’m looking for Lily.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed, teeth clenching before slamming the door in his face, making his glasses go askew. James just stared back at the wood again, wracking his brain if Remus had ever mentioned very specific muggle etiquette for house calls. 

He heard a shrill voice loud enough to pierce through the wall and the shuffle of bodies. The door reopened. It felt like one of those muggle style magic tricks he had seen on the Lupin’s TV once. Instead of the other girl, Lily stood in her place, all her features righted back to their natural form. 

“Alright, Evans?” His hand jumped into his hair on instinct. Lily blinked at him, hand grasping the knob.

“Potter—what are you doing here?”

“Happy Christmas! I know I could have waited until we got back to school but—”

His voice trailed off. What should he say? But I missed you? But I’ve been thinking about you night and day since the moment I met you? But we left for holidays just after you kissed me in the common room unprovoked and I really really would like to do that again?

Instead, he didn’t say anything, opting to extend the gift he held against his chest towards her. Lily eyed it, then flitted her gaze back up to him. He tried his best smile, hoping she couldn’t tell that his confidence was waning the longer he stood on the stoop. 

She ignored the gift, leaving her hand firmly on the door knob.

“How do you know where I live?”  

James shifted again. He was hoping she wouldn’t ask—it was the part of this outing he wasn’t very proud of.

“I–uh.” He knew if it had been any other time he would have been able to think of a million lies that would have suited as a response. Instead, the truth fell out.

“I knew you lived in Cokeworth,” he began, “so I took Sirius’ motorbike here and—”

“Sirius’ what?”

Her arms were now crossed, incredulous. 

“Can I explain that one later? That might take a bit more time..”

“Fine–so you came to Cokeworth.”

James sighed, his Gryffindor courage was not coming in handy. 

“--So I came to Cokeworth and wandered around for a good hour until I found a bookshop–and I said to myself hey, Evans likes books—so I went in and I asked the bloke behind the counter if he had seen the most beautiful redhead to ever exist with an incredible pair of–”

“What the fuck, Potter.” She took an indignant step towards him. 

“--pair of green eyes, Evans. I know I’m a randy teenager but cut me some slack…”

It shouldn’t have, but the rhythm of banter brought new life to him. He was starting to feel back to form, though still very much making a fool of himself on the stoop. Lily tried to say something multiple times, but clipped off her words with each attempt, completely flabbergasted. 

“---but anyways turns out he did know you so here I am.” James finished his ramble, finding himself now rather pleased. 

Lily looked at him for a while, eyes searching for some sort of answer he wished she’d just ask for. Finally, she let out a defeated sigh, stepping further out onto the stoop and a bit closer to him. She was only wearing a light sweater, and she wrapped her arms around herself to hold out the cold. 

“I guess fighting you on this is useless.”

He could have been hallucinating, but a smile twitched on her face. 

“So will you accept my gift?” It might have been snowing out, but he was starting to feel incredibly warm. 

“I’ll accept your gift.”

Lily took the package, turning its bulbous shape in her hands. Some pink formed at her cheeks and her eyes flicked up to his before shucking off the wrappings. An ornate china teapot with etchings of leaves curling their way through wind scrawled around its base. 

“Mum helped me pick it out–told her you were a fan of art nouveau. I charmed it so all you need to do is add water and it will automatically make your drink of choice—I couldn’t help but notice you have a whole beverage routine in your day.”

Lily twisted the pot in her hands, eyes soft and adoring. 

“Beverage routine, you say?” An eyebrow disappeared up into her fringe. 

“Well, sure,” he cleared his throat, “In the mornings you drink black tea with milk. To study you drink coffee–an espresso with foam if possible but black works too. When you read in the common room you like either mint or ginger tea depending on the season, and on the rare occasions I’ve seen you and Marlene put on a muggle film you have hot chocolate or cider.”

Lily looked up again, mouth slightly agape. James felt his confidence wane. 

“--- not that I’m paying attention or anything.”

Lily burst out laughing, holding the teapot close to her body with two hands.

“You are an absolute nutter Potter, you know that?”

“I’ve actually been told I’m a pretty normal bloke until I’m around you.”

Lily dropped her gaze, her cheeks were burning from an equal mixture of laughter, embarrassment, and the cold.

“Thank you,” she stammered, “It’s incredibly sweet.”

 A part of him wanted to start in on everything: ask why she had kissed him the night before holidays, demand to know where they stood or what to expect once they returned to school. Instead, he reached out a hand and placed it on her cheek, feeling the sting of the winter wind on her skin. 

“You should go back in, it’s bloody freezing out here.” 

He moved to drop his hand but she placed hers against it, leaning her cheek into the warmth of his palm. Turning her head slightly, she tucked her lips into his hand, cold lips pressing into calloused fingers. 

“Have you had dinner?”

Her question zapped him back to reality. From the feel of her lips, he had been completely transported out of body, fighting all urges to curl his arms around her, kiss her like she had kissed him in the common room and then some, and wrap her inside his coat until all the cold melted away.

“Uhm, no I haven’t.”

She removed their hands from her cheek, and they dropped between them, fingers now interlaced. 

“Would you-”

She didn’t even need to finish the question. He squeezed her hand and with a laugh she pulled them both through the front door, no longer cold.

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 5. Pony

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: You and Joel decide to keep things under wraps. Murphy's Law has something to say about that...

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Car Sex, Improper use of Tesla autopilot (please, for the love of god, don't use it for something like sex!), Sexting through Slack (Don't do this either!), No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: A shorter one today, I was feeling under the weather for a good portion of last week and wasn't able to really add more to the plot with my medicated brain fog. Hope the smut makes up for it! Sugar is finally feeling more confident and sexy, and we are here for it! Hope you all enjoy!

"Fuck baby, it's only 7:30 in the morning," Joel pants, grabbing onto your hips as you grind harshly against him, your head thrown back in pleasure. You were on him the moment he stepped into the driver's seat, thighs straddling his. He presses open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat as you pull on his curls. “You have no fucking idea just how much I’ve thought about this, Sugar.”

“Oh, I have an idea, it’s written on that list of yours,” you tease, nibbling on the shell of his ear. "I thought we could try out that autopilot feature. You know, for science," you breathe, pushing the fabric of your skirt higher. "I was thinking that this Tesla is due for a christening." You activate full self-driving mode and set the destination to the office, Joel hurriedly unbuttoning your silk blouse, and exposing your bra. His calloused fingertips graze the low-cut lace edge of your demi-cup. "Baby-"

"Do you like it?" you smirk, pushing your breasts further into his grasp, his large hands greedily cupping them. “I saw you looking at them on the mannequin, thought I would model them for you-“

“What happened to my sweet little Sugar?” Joel murmurs as he suddenly grasps your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “You get a taste of my cock and now you’re desperate for it, huh?”

Joel looks intently at the autopilot GPS, the screen showing that they are approximately 10 minutes away from the office. “Do you think you can make yourself cum before we get there? He pushes your skirt higher, his gaze caught at the glistening spot of wetness on your panties. “Shit, so fucking wet for me.” He hurriedly unzips his jeans, his cock already standing at full attention. He pushes your panties aside, his fingers slowly grazing your slit. “Fuck baby, you gonna let me bless this car? I swear if I don’t get inside you soon I’ll fucking die-“

You notch his tip against your entrance. “We don’t want that now do we?” You whisper, giggling at how ridiculous and desperate you must be sounding. You slowly lower yourself as you grasp at the backrest, Joel’s gaze fixated on how your pussy lips start to slowly take in his cock. “Fuck Joel, you’re so fucking big, I don’t think-“

“Don’t think, baby, just… FUCK!” He shouts as you grasp on his shoulders, fully sheathing yourself to the hilt. His hands grip your hips as you start to grind on him. “Shit, just hold still baby, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum-“

“Isn’t that what you want?” You pant, bouncing up and down on his length. “We only have 8 minutes left, clocks ticking old man-“ he suddenly thrusts up against you as you scream, pushing the cups of your bra below your breasts. He takes a nipple between his teeth, the flat of his tongue soothing the sting. “Oh fuck!” You shout, arching your back towards his mouth, wanting more.  

You had long fantasized that being intimate with Joel —the man your heart had been hung up on for years—would undoubtedly be the most incredible experience of your life.

This was something else entirely.

“Tell me, baby, how does it feel having an old man sucking on your tits like this?” His thumb goes to your clit, his calloused skin hitting that bundle of nerves just right. “Only I know how to make you squirm like this huh?” He pinches it for good measure and you swear you could come from just that alone. “Tell me baby, who does this pussy belong to?” He says against your breast, hollowing his mouth as he sucks another love bite onto your skin.

“Fuck mark me, Joel, show everyone in the office who I belong to,” you murmur as you start to shake, the feeling of your impending release spreading throughout your body like wildfire. 

“Oh baby you’re so close, I feel you squeezing me so damn tight!” He slams your hips against his as he starts to fuck you in earnest, barely hanging on as you bounce on him like a ragdoll. Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, all teeth and tongue, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pounds into you with reckless abandon. “Are you gonna cum for me?“ he groans as you completely lose yourself, the car reversing into a stall as you try to catch your breath. "Fuck Joel, I-" you struggle to formulate words as your body comes crashing down, the feeling so delicious it renders you speechless.

"I know, baby, I know," he soothes, "You were amazing," Joel breathes as he leans back, gently cradling your exhausted body against his.

“What about you?” You ask against his throat, lifting your hips. “Let me help you-“

Joel gives you a quick peck on your lips, helping you situate on the passenger seat as he quickly settles himself, zipping up his jeans. "Don't worry about me, Sugar. Ran outta time-"

"... but you're the boss, silly," you tease, reaching over to cup his erection.

Joel groans, swatting your hand away. "As much as I am very tempted, I have an early Zoom meeting with The H Group. Tess will have me by the balls if I don't show up on time." He cups your cheek, his thumb soothing the skin beneath it. "It's still early, why don't you grab something to eat? He slides you his black Amex. "Go crazy, maybe stop by the mall and grab you a little treat?"

"I might as well head in myself, I wasn't able to run reports since Tess decided we should drink ourselves silly yesterday." you smile, smoothing out your skirt. You turn and give Joel a little smirk. "It's a shame you weren't able to come, I always wondered what it would feel like to have your cum leaking out of me as I sit at my desk today..."

"Is that so?" Joel purrs, capturing your lips in a lingering kiss. "Are you gonna walk in with me, or do you want to keep this between us?" he asks, his expression serious. "As much as I am ready to scream from the rooftops that you're finally mine, I understand if you want to keep it under wraps-"

"... and suffer Connie's inevitable interrogation?" you groan, checking your reflection in the mirror. "I think I would like to keep you to myself for just a little bit longer if that's okay."

"It's more than okay, baby. Let's take it one step at a time." He smiles, opening the car door. "Meet me for lunch later? Maybe we can take a longer one, you know, maybe finish what we started?" he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

You give him one last kiss, chuckling as he grabs your ass. "Go, before Tess goes on a manhunt!" you tease. Joel kisses your forehead. "I love you, baby girl."  

You beam at him as he gives you a wink. "I love you, too, Joel."

"So, who's the guy?" Connie whispers, leaning towards you, absentmindedly stirring her coffee in the employee lounge.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you deadpan, attempting to make your way out of the room before she could corner you. Her arm reaches across the doorframe, a knowing smile plastered on her face.

"Oh, stop playing coy, Sugar. It's written all over your neck!" Connie quips, motioning for you to take a look at the mirror beside you. Your eyes widen in shock at the sight of the numerous hickeys Joel has unknowingly left on your skin. Shades of red and purple adorn your neck like an unintentional pattern, a clear testament to the passionate night you shared. You blush at the sight as Connie sips from her coffee cup, motioning for you to take a seat at the nearest table.

Connie leans back into the plush seat, smirking at you. "So, spill. Who is it?"

"Whatever happened to 'a lady doesn't kiss and tell'?" you reply, crossing your arms. "I don't see how my love life is any of your business-"

Connie scoffs. "What are you, 50? Come on! We're all sluts here!" she exclaims, her eyes widening as she notices Joel walking into the room, clearing her throat. "Good Morning, Mr. Miller!" she says in a syrupy-sweet voice, her body turning in his direction.  

Joel nods towards the both of you, a small knowing smirk at the corner of his mouth. "Good Morning ladies," he murmurs, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Anything interesting going on with you guys lately?"

"Well, apparently, Sugar got herself a boyfriend!" Connie teases, "She looks like she got eaten alive by the state of her poor neck!"

You shoot Connie a playful glare, while Joel raises an eyebrow in amusement.

"Well," he says, throwing a wink your way, "he must be quite a guy if he managed to convince Sugar to give him a chance." He grabs his iPad, giving both of you a nod as he heads towards the door. "Sugar, think you could swing by my office after my first meeting? I need some... troubleshooting," he says with a pointed look, "and I need it sorted before lunch. Can you handle that for me?"

You try not to blush under his heated gaze, aware of Connie looking at the both of you with her mouth agape. Keep it professional, you tell yourself.

"Uh- Sure, Joel. Just send me a Slack when you're just about done with your meeting, and I'll... head on over," you say weakly, attempting to maintain composure.

"Oh, I sure will," he says with a wide grin. "Ladies," he says once more, Connie whistling as she watches him leave.

"What I would do to have a piece of that," she exclaims, giving you a wink. "It's a damn shame that he's pretty much a monk-"

"A monk?" you quip, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "What makes you think that?"

"I've been working here for the last five years, right?" she half-whispers, leaning towards you. "... and I've seen some things, you know? I know exactly who is banging who in this office, nothing and no one is safe from me, okay?" she smirks, "Joel, on the other hand? now that's someone I can't figure out. No ring on his finger, no photos of anyone except his family on his desk, no plus one at the galas and family days the company throws," she muses, "a fine specimen like him not tied down at his age? He either has a secret sugar baby or moonlights as a monk. There is no way a man like him goes without for that long," she sighs, stirring her coffee. "I'm beginning to think he's celibate. Anyway, about your mystery man-"

"Sugar?" Tess suddenly interjects, her head popping up through the doorway. "The engineers are having a hard time accessing the server from the site, do you think you could head over and troubleshoot?"

"Sure!" you exclaim a little too excitedly, gathering your things, thankful for the interruption. "Let me just grab a few things from my office and I'll head on over!" 

"Sugar, wait, we aren't done yet-" Connie stammers, standing from her seat.

"...aren't you supposed to be manning the phones, Connie?" Tess interrupts her, a pointed look in her eyes, as you swiftly exit the room. You mutter a hasty "thanks" to Tess while squeezing past her.

"Now, Connie!" you hear Tess yell from down the hall, chuckling to yourself. Serves her right, you think. You run to your office, sending Joel a quick message through Slack:

Sugar (IT) Tess is sending me on-site, I might not be back before lunch. Maybe I could pop-in a little later? Let me know, ok?

You quickly pocket your phone, grab your purse, and hurriedly make your way out the door, giving Connie a semblance of a wave before she has the chance to stop you.

Later, as you kick yourself for taking longer on-site than you intended, you forgo your lunch break. Opting to make it back to the office as soon as possible and back into Joel's arms, you don't want to think about how the subcontractors talked over you and didn't take you seriously at all, their constant hollering and cat-calls make you want to gouge your eyes out. You sigh as you slam your car door, dragging your feet back towards the office. This day can't get any worse, right?

Connie leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as you stroll into the office. Her hand cups her mouth as she shares the latest gossip with Jesse in Engineering.

"Have you heard? Apparently, Joel is getting cozy with someone in the company," she discloses, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Did you catch that Slack message? Wow, what a lucky girl—"

"Or lucky guy," Jesse interjects with a smirk. "'Baby' could be anyone."

Connie turns her attention to you, a playful grin on her face. "Hey Sugar, what's your take? I'm thinking Joel is packing an 8-incher—"

Your eyes widen, and you interrupt in a huff, trying to hide your embarrassment. "What are you even talking about?"

"The Slack message! The admin channel is blowing up!" Connie exclaims. 

"Don't tell me you missed it on your phone? I haven't seen this many replies since Tommy accidentally sent a dick pic last year. Didn't think Joel had it in him—"

Panic sets in as you pull out your phone, unlocking it to find hundreds of Slack notifications. Your eyes widen in shock. "OH MY GOD!"

#MCG ADMIN 50 members Joel Hi baby, someone's missing you today ;P 0003.png - image sent to #MCG ADMIN He's been waiting for your sweet pie, why don't you head on over here and warm him up... Baby? Playing coy with me now  Don't be shy... Tommy JOEL?   WRONG CHANNEL WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? (I mean, got damn but WTF) Connie (Reception) OH. MR. MILLER YOU DOG YOU 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆 Frank (Interior Design) Well.   Ain't that something. Huh. Wow. WOW. 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆 Bill (Civil) FRANK! Eugene (Electrical) Well. That's a fine piece 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆 you have there, brother. Sarah (HR) DAD?? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? THANK GOD ELLIE IS NOT ON THIS CHANNEL! Could you please do yourself a favor and delete that? I'm just going to keep messaging  Guys, please disregard Joel's messages. I would like to remind you that sending images of this nature is prohibited and NOT acceptable. Oh my GOD. Tommy Sugar? can you please delete these messages? SUGAR? Why are you not replying?   Hello?? Tess Shit. I sent her off-site because the engineers were having issues. FUCK. Sarah? Do you know her computer login by chance? Maybe we could delete it from her computer.

"Oh, shit," you exclaim, hastily shoving your phone into your purse. You make a beeline for your office, slamming the door shut behind you. Leaning against the door, you slide down to the floor, your heart pounding in your chest.

"What the hell, Joel? How can you be so careless?" you whisper in frustration, closing your eyes as you try to collect yourself. 

You bring your phone up once more, scrolling through the hundreds of messages in the admin slack channel. "First things first," you mutter yourself, you click on the photo in question. It's a mirror selfie, Joel's jeans pushed down his thighs, his prominent bulge standing at full attention. He's pursing his lips, looking at the mirror, his eyes full of want and lust. "Holy shit Joel," you breathe, your breath caught in your throat at the sight.  Is the air off?  

Right. You need to delete this.

You hover over the trash icon, the notifications still popping up in the background, so much so that you don't bother to dismiss them.  

Connie (Reception) Has Christmas come early for us all? 🍆🍆🍆🍆 Who is the lucky girl? (Is it me? am I that girl?) Sarah (IT) That's enough, Connie.   Has Sugar come in yet?   Connie (Reception) Yep.   She's in shock. Ran into her office. I bet you're drooling over that pic, huh Sugar?  I know you want a piece of that fine ASS  Do us a favor and don't delete it. Sarah (IT) Connie. Stop.  Sugar, please delete the picture.

You hover over the photo. Before you can lose your nerve, you click on the download button. It's not like it's wrong, he is your boyfriend? lover? after all.  

[Photo 0003.png has been deleted by the system admin.] Connie (Reception) OH COME ON! Tommy THANK FUCK Tess  Connie, I'm going to need you to come to my office.   NOW. Jesse (Engineering) Well, that's all she wrote, everyone! Whoops Connie, that's what happens when you fuck around and find out, it's off to the principal's office for you! Sugar (IT) The photo has been deleted and all messages concerning this issue have been logged and sent to Tess and Sarah for review. You guys should be ashamed of yourselves. Tess Sugar, I'm going to need admin access to the channel just so we can prevent further inappropriate photos and messages from being sent.  Frank (Interior Design) Oh, come on Sugar. I know you took a peek. It's okay, it's a safe space here at Miller Construction Group... I know I definitely looked. (Sorry Bill) Bill (Civil) FRANK! Leave the poor girl alone. Thank you for your service, Sugar. Don't you all have work to do? Connie (Reception) OH COME ON SUGAR. DON'T BE LIKE THAT! (Is it you? you can tell me, girl. Is that why you had all of those hickeys? We're all friends here.) Tess CONNIE. NOW.

You scramble to your desk, pulling up Slack as you hover over to the direct message tab, looking for Joel.  

Direct Message to J.Miller Sugar (IT) Joel? Are you ok? Joel Uh... Sugar (IT) Joel, what were you thinking? Joel  I was thinking about you. Fuck. I messed up, baby.  I wasn't thinking and I was so fucking horny... and now I got Connie sending me nudes. Sugar (IT) I wouldn't be surprised if it's your new contact photo on her phone. Joel So, what did you think of it?

You take a look at the photo again, the mere sight of his cock making your mouth water and your panties wet. Granted, the grainy photo has nothing on seeing his dick in person, but you can see the appeal to it. Joel has a fantastic cock, and what's better is that it's all yours. If the office wasn't on high alert right now, what's to stop you from strolling into his office and mounting his dick, taking everything that he's got? You get goosebumps just thinking about it. Even if it's been a few days since you lost your virginity to the man you've been obsessing over for a good portion of the last decade, you just can't seem to get enough.  Is that what desire is like? you think to yourself, shifting in your seat and rubbing your thighs in a weak attempt at relief. It's not like you're about to touch yourself...

My door is closed, normal people would knock, right?

Poor Joel, you think. All he wanted was to show you how excited he was, and now the good majority of his employees know just how well-endowed their boss was. It's embarrassing, no matter how good this man looked. 

I should make it up to him. 

You take a look at the La Perla bra that you have on under your blouse, the purple lace demi cut barely covering your breasts, just the way Joel likes it, you muse, chuckling to yourself. Taking one last look at your closed office door, you angle yourself just right, enough for your nipple to graze the edge of the lace. You bite your bottom lip, taking a few snaps to make sure you get it just right. 

Taking a deep breath, you look at the photos.

Damn. I look... hot? Sexy, even?

With a shaky hand, you go back to the thread, pulling up the upload photo option and clicking on what you think is the most flattering photo, trying not to be weirded out looking at half-naked photos of yourself.  Yeah. This will do.

Sugar (IT) Are you busy right now? 0345.png photo sent to #mcg-admin  I'm so wet for you, Daddy.

Wait.  Your eyes take a look at the thread, your eyes widening when you realize that you didn't go back to the direct messages but back to #mcg-admin.  HOLY-

Frank (Interior Design) WELL DAMN, SUGAR. Are we all just sending illicit photos of ourselves now?   Should I drop my pants and join in on the fun? Eugene (Electrical) GOT DAMN. NOW THATS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT WHO KNEW THAT YOU WERE HIDING ALL THAT??! Jesse (Engineering) HOLY SHIT WOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW Bill (Civil) FRANK! Sarah (HR) WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE? [Photo 0345.png has been deleted by Sugar (IT)]

Well, you think to yourself. So much for keeping things a secret.

Direct Message to Sugar (IT) Joel Baby, I think they know. Sugar (IT) YOU THINK??

Taglist:@sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa, @laurrrra, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: ok so listen; so Steve Harrington who didn't tell anyone he gets into a medical school (Indiana University School of medicine) but he travels to school during the week and Mike finds the graduation letter in Steve's apartment. He graduated as a premed student with a full scholarship to Harvard Medical school for the trauma surgeon program. The party realizes that their constant jokes making fun of Steve's intelligence caused him to not tell them about this. I want a mixture of angst with a full proper apology & a few years later him graduating from Harvard with the party cheering him.

MY LOOOOOOVE!!!! Nothing gets me going quite like a secret super smart Steve Harrington. Is it OOC? Maybe. But writing Steve as a fucking Harvard Med School graduate!!! A whole trauma surgeon!!!! YES!!!!! I obviously had to put some Steddie in there, mostly because Eddie deserves a happy ending, too and any chance I have to give him one, I will. - Mickala ❤️

---------------------------------------------

Steve was late. He’d been late a lot recently.

Mike started driving a few weeks ago, got his hands on Nancy’s car since she was busy traveling the world now, and he’d been quick to pick up the slack.

But he was growing impatient.

When they asked Steve why he was late, he shrugged it off, said he forgot. Everyone just went with it because obviously Steve’s kind of scatterbrained and a few fries short of a happy meal, especially after the head trauma.

But Mike was suspicious.

Steve let it go a little too easily.

And Eddie hadn’t stuck up for him like he usually did when they were teasing his intelligence.

Mike was letting himself into Steve’s apartment, using the key that he kept under the mat so the kids always had a place to go if they needed it.

He wasn’t home yet, but Mike had just been to Family Video and he wasn’t there either. Apparently, hadn’t been in at all today. Keith said something about ‘taking the day off for exams.’

Steve wasn’t in school though, so that meant he was lying and Mike wanted to know what he was lying about.

He looked at the counter, saw a large stack of mail, and decided that was probably a good place to start his search.

Most of it seemed like junk, a few bills, a letter from Robin, and an envelope that was torn open already from Indiana University.

If it was already open, it was fair game. That was his motto, at least.

He pulled out a thick stack of papers.

The seal in the corner of the first page said School of Medicine.

Was Steve sick? Had he started seeing the university doctors because of some weird problem with his head? Maybe that’s why he’d also been so forgetful lately.

Maybe they put him on a new medication trial or something and it was a side effect.

But he kept reading and felt his chest cave in.

Dear Mr. Steven J. Harrington,

It is a great honor to announce your successful completion of the pre-med degree program at Indiana University. Your incredible tenacity has proved that you’re prepared to work through any medical school program in the country.

Graduation is currently set for May 18, 1989. Please contact your advisor to reserve tickets by April 28, 1989.

Thank you for trusting Indiana University with your education. We look forward to seeing your accomplishments in the future!

“Holy shit.”

“Why are you reading my mail?”

Mike jumped at Steve’s voice. He’d been so busy reading the letter, he hadn’t heard the front door to the apartment open.

“You’re going to med school?”

“Hopefully, yeah.”

“What the fuck?”

Steve rolled his eyes and made his way to the fridge, grabbing a can of soda for himself.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like. You’re. You’re you. How are you going to med school?”

Steve’s brows furrowed as he leaned against the counter and sipped at his drink.

“I graduated from pre-med as valedictorian. I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“You? Valedictorian? You barely got through high school!”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“I hated high school. I was going through a lot of shit. It wasn’t because I’m stupid.”

Mike’s mouth was gaping like a fish, confused at literally everything that was happening.

“But-“

“I also just got into Harvard on a full scholarship if we’re gonna put it all out there. I was gonna tell everyone this weekend at El’s birthday party but I’m sure you’re about to run to tell them all.”

Well, how could he not? Steve had been hiding going to college for years! He was about to move to Harvard!

“Wait! Is Eddie going with you?”

“Yeah. We found an apartment over a record store and the owner hired him to run the store while he transitions into retirement.”

Mike felt like he was in an alternate universe. There was no way Steve Harrington was going to be a doctor. There was no way Eddie and Steve were moving to Boston.

There was no way he was leaving all of them.

“But. But what about us?”

“You guys are all practically adults. You barely even hang out with me anymore unless it’s to get a ride or get snacks for Hellfire. You didn’t even notice I was driving to and from campus for years. I think I’ve given enough of myself to people who don’t seem to want it,” Steve shrugged, looking down at the floor.

Mike wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, but he also kind of just wanted to hug Steve and tell him that wasn’t true.

But it kind of was, wasn’t it?

They’d all taken advantage of Steve’s kindness for years. He’d been the best damn babysitter they could have, saved their lives multiple times, gave them money for the arcade and dates and pizza for pool parties when he lived in his old house.

They grew to just expect it.

He didn’t even know the last time he’d heard anyone say thank you. He certainly hadn’t said it in a long time.

“But, Dustin will be devastated.”

“He’ll be okay. He’s gonna go to MIT when he graduates and he’ll be right around the corner or something. I dunno. He hasn’t even called me just to talk in months. I don’t think he’ll miss me that much.”

Which just. It wasn’t true. Mike knew for a fact that Dustin would be heartbroken about Steve leaving.

“I.”

“It’s fine. Eddie’s gonna be home soon so if you wanna wait for him that’s fine. I’m gonna go shower and get an early night. Been up since three this morning.”

“Did you really have exams?”

“What?”

“I checked to see if you worked today and Keith said you had exams,” Mike said shakily, feeling entirely off balance.

“Oh. I just had to do an entrance exam for Harvard. They let me take it on IU’s campus since I can’t move until two weeks before classes start.”

Mike nodded once.

This was really happening. Steve was leaving.

Steve was going to Harvard.

He was taking Eddie with him.

And not a single one of them had bothered to notice any of it happening.

————————

“I told you I don’t know! I’m giving you everything I have!” Mike yelled at Dustin, who was pacing and clearly trying not to cry.

“It just doesn’t make sense! He always acted like he didn’t understand half of what we were saying when we talked science stuff!” Dustin yelled as he walked back and forth across the floor, wearing a pattern into the carpet.

“Maybe it’s because we’ve always just assumed he’s dumb. I mean, none of us really treated him like he could keep up, so maybe he just. Didn’t,” Lucas shrugged.

“He could’ve told us!”

“Or maybe he didn’t want to since we all thought he’d be lying,” Max added from her chair in the corner.

“He could’ve proved it!”

“Maybe he didn’t want to have to,” Eddie said as he walked in the room.

Hellfire was at Dustin’s tonight, and Eddie had been late.

His sudden appearance made them all cower where they sat or stood.

“No Hellfire tonight. I was gonna call, but had to drive by here anyway. Steve’s having a bad night and I’m pretty certain it’s your fault, so I’m gonna go try to get him through it.”

It was a bit harsh, but not undeserved.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Eddie?” Dustin asked quietly.

“It wasn’t for me to tell. He was going to when he got accepted into IU, and then you guys spent most of that night telling him he wouldn’t understand what you were talking about with your group science project so he kept it to himself. Then he just decided it wouldn’t be worth trying to explain anything since you wouldn’t believe him anyway. He asked me not to say anything until he announced his graduation and Harvard this weekend, so I didn’t.”

“But we would have been proud of him! He could have shown us his acceptance letter or something.”

“That’s not how you made him feel,” Eddie shrugged before turning back towards the door. “We’ll see you at El’s party.”

When Eddie left, the room was silent.

Everyone was deep in thought, trying to unpack everything.

With Hellfire canceled, they didn’t have much of a reason to stick around, but none of them felt like being alone.

Not when they started to realize that Steve was kind of the glue that held them all together and without him, they may not ever be whole again.

—-----------------------

El’s party was simple, just the usual guests and some cake and balloons. She didn’t like a big thing, usually preferred to have a sleepover with Max and just do their nails and listen to music.

Joyce insisted on having a little get together though, said it would be nice to celebrate something since they hadn’t really since Will’s birthday.

Steve was there, holding Eddie’s hand in the corner, talking with Hopper while Eddie talked with Joyce.

Steve told them everything when they got there since the kids knew, and while he knew Joyce and Hopper were happy for him, for both of them, they could send their shock.

All of the kids had hesitantly hugged Steve when they got there, barely saying anything to him, unsure where they stood.

Steve felt like he was closing the book on his life in Hawkins, and he hated that it felt like no one would join him in the next one except for Eddie.

Throughout the day, the kids would find their way up to him to just be close, soak in Steve’s energy, try to appreciate him now because they clearly hadn’t been before.

He let them. He could have told them to go away, or tried to talk them into apologies, but it wouldn’t do any good right now, and he didn’t want to ruin El’s birthday party.

Eddie could tell he wasn’t himself, though. He saw the way Steve’s eyes dropped down to his lap every time one of the kids would walk away from his side, how his leg started bouncing when things were quiet for more than a few seconds.

“You wanna head out?”

“I-”

“Steve? Can we talk to you for a minute?” Lucas asked, the rest of the party behind him watching with wide eyes.

“Oh. Sure.”

Eddie patted his knee and stood up, but Lucas gestured for him to sit back down.

“You, too. We owe you both explanations and apologies.”

So, Eddie sat. He would support Steve through whatever this conversation entailed, and maybe get something else out of it too.

“We all want to take turns saying stuff, but I wanna start,” Lucas said, playing with his hands nervously.

Steve nodded, always more patient than the kids deserved.

“I always saw you as the jock, ya know? Like, I respected you because you were a great basketball player and you had a lot of friends. I just kind of thought that was who you were, even after high school. You always made time to help me over the summer, even when you’d just worked an opening shift or had to go in for a closing shift. I didn’t really consider you an adult, even though you were. You were just there. You protected me, all of us, from some of the scariest shit any of us will ever have to deal with without even taking a second to consider your own safety. You just did it. And I don’t really think any of us thanked you. None of us would be here without you.”

Lucas was biting his lip, trying not to cry as he wrapped up his speech, but didn’t get a chance to start before Will started talking.

“I haven’t spent as much time with you as the rest of these guys have. But I know that you’re always there. You give me a ride when my mom can’t and you always slip me an extra $1 or 2 when we go to the arcade because you know I don’t have much. You hung up my art on your apartment wall even though it sucks and isn’t your style because you wanted me to know that someone supports me. You’ve been one of the only constants in our crazy lives, and we haven’t done nearly enough to show that we appreciate you,” Will wiped his eyes quickly as he turned away to let someone else speak.

“Billy was an asshole to all of us, but especially to you. You could’ve walked away that night, left Lucas and me to defend ourselves or die trying, but you didn’t. You knew he was a racist piece of shit and you got another concussion just so he wouldn’t lay a hand on us. That was the first time I ever had someone stick up for me like that. And after everything with Vecna, you were the one who always checked in, made sure I had rides to appointments, had food I could easily make when my mom wasn’t around, brought me to the skate park as soon as I was cleared by my doctor. I’ve never had someone who cared so much like you do and I’m sorry I didn’t know how to show you that it meant so much to me,” Max said seriously.

Steve was sniffling, and Eddie knew if he tried to comfort him too much right now, it would just make it worse. He squeezed his hand and wiped the tear falling down his cheek as the kids continued.

“I hated you for the longest time. I thought it was your fault Nancy changed, and then I thought it was your fault when Nancy and Jonathan got together, and then I just hated everyone and everything for a while. But I think it was just easy to use you to blame everything on because you let me. You just let me treat you like shit. You let me complain about your driving while you drove me anywhere I wanted to go. You let me blame you for Nancy being upset about the break up when she was the one who hurt you most. You let me think you were stupid when you’re brilliant enough to go to Harvard on a full scholarship. You let all of us take advantage of you and I don’t know why, but I wish I could turn back time and not let you do that. You didn’t deserve to be used by any of us, but especially me,” Mike said surprisingly sincerely.

In fact, Eddie watched Mike take a few deep breaths like he was holding back a sob.

“I am sorry for how we all treated you, Steve. I did not know that we hurt you. Dad said sometimes the people who hurt the most are the people who accept hurt as the way they are supposed to be treated, but that is not true. You should be loved so much, like Eddie loves you, by everyone. We should have done better,” El said as she held Max’s hand.

Dustin had been incredibly quiet, hiding in the back, not even looking up from the ground. Eddie could tell he wanted to say something, but probably didn’t know how to start.

It was no secret that Dustin was Steve’s favorite kid. It was also no secret that Dustin loved Steve like a brother, maybe even more, and that if Steve was upset, Dustin would want to make it right.

“I never had someone to look up to until you came around,” Dustin started, still not looking up from the ground. “My mom always felt bad that she didn’t give me a good role model or a brother or sister to look up to. But when you started watching over me, she felt like it was better this way. ‘That Harrington boy is special.’ That’s what she says all the time. And I guess I got used to her saying it and just didn’t think anything of it anymore. Like, yeah, you’re great. You do all kinds of stuff for me and for all of us, but it just felt like you wanted to so what made it so special? When Mike told us everything, it hit me that even if you wanted to do all that stuff, you still deserved a thank you. You went out of your way to make us safe and happy, and our only way to repay you was to constantly put you down and bully you. We spent years calling you out for what an asshole you were in high school while we ended up being assholes to you. You’re my brother and I haven’t been good to you. I’m sorry.”

Eddie was watching as Steve finally let out a sob he’d been holding in for too long. He pulled him into his chest, watching as the kids all wiped tears of their own away.

He knew the kids were genuinely sorry, he could tell that when faced with the reality of the way they treated Steve for years now, they felt terrible. But he also knew that Steve let it go on too long without saying something, and that it would take a while for him to really figure out a good balance of being there for the kids he loved and setting boundaries he needed to set long ago.

“Can you give him a minute guys? I’m sure he wants to talk to you all, but I think he just needs to calm down.”

The kids all nodded and scurried away.

They weren’t kids anymore, was the thing. They would always be kids to Steve, though. That’s why this was hurting so much. They were his nuggets, and they’d been unintentionally hurting him for years.

Steve had been so excited to tell them about getting into a pre-med program at IU, and when he couldn’t tell them, he changed. He was withdrawn in ways Eddie had never seen or expected. He was focused on school, and their relationship, but nothing else. He would go through the motions of driving the kids where he could when he could, throwing the occasional pool party, keeping up appearances.

He’d been exhausted for two years now. Running on fumes for miles, no end in sight. Until he got his acceptance into Harvard.

Eddie had never seen him so happy or proud of himself.

But the happiness faded quickly when he realized what telling the kids would mean, what going to Harvard would mean.

It meant moving, it meant leaving the kids, it meant spending the next 6-8 years so focused on school and residency that he probably wouldn’t have time to visit much outside of major holidays. It meant hoping that Eddie would come with him, support him, and love him regardless of the limited time he had to spend outside of school.

But Eddie would be there for every moment. He’d worked so hard, and Eddie wanted to be there for him every step of the way.

The kids would understand. They were almost graduated at this point, probably heading off to college themselves, and had their own lives to start.

“I wish I’d just told them about IU.”

“I know, sweetheart. But we can’t change the past. You’ve got such an amazing future ahead of you. Everyone is gonna be so proud of Dr. Steve Harrington.”

Steve smiled at that as Eddie dried his tears away.

When he’d calmed down completely, he walked over to where the kids were sitting on the porch.

He stood in front of them with his hands on his hips, a small smile on his face.

“If I forgive you all, will you stop looking like I just stole your ice creams and kicked your puppies?”

Dustin was the first to jump up and run into Steve, sobbing when Steve’s arms wrapped around him.

“It’s alright, bud. I love you, even when you’re a shithead, okay?”

All of the kids piled into Steve’s arms and around his back, all of them crying as Steve started telling them all about his program.

“I’m going to be a trauma surgeon. I was always pretty good at patching everyone up after Upside Down shit, so I figured why not make it a career? And I placed so high on the entrance testing, they suggested I go for pre-med instead of the EMT program. One of my professors my first semester suggested being a surgeon, so that’s the track I took.”

The kids looked at him in awe, like they were seeing him in a new light.

Eddie thought maybe they were finally seeing the Steve he’d seen all along.

—---------------------------------

May 11, 1997

“Steven Joseph Harrington, MD, summa cum laude.”

The cheers from his group were so loud, but they all ignored the dirty looks from the surrounding family and friends.

Steve Harrington was a Harvard graduate, a graduate with the highest honors, a trauma surgeon who already accepted his first position in a nearby hospital.

Everyone was so proud of him.

Wayne and Eddie had arranged for everyone to either ride in a rental car with Wayne or fly in to surprise Steve for his graduation.

He could see Steve look up into the crowd when he heard the screams, could see the grin spreading across his face as he realized his whole family was here to support him, just as they had been for the last eight years.

Everything Steve wanted and worked for was coming together, and everyone who believed in him was here cheering him on.

He was the best damn babysitter those kids had, and now he’d be the best damn trauma surgeon Boston Children’s Hospital would ever have.

[apocalypticbadass]

i just know abby loves to sniff her girl’s panties post-workout.

this is about to be incredibly foul and completely self indulgent so there’s ur warning lmao. also i did say self indulgent so i’m writing this in first person bc idgaf.

smutty, mdni, perv!abby, if ur a germaphobe don’t read this

——

after unlocking the door to abby and my apartment, i was ready to beeline to the shower. i’d just finished a workout and was absolutely covered in sweat. walking into our bedroom, i smiled at the sight of abby taking a nap on our bed, lips parted and hair down, strewn gently across her freckled shoulders.

my smile stuck to my face as i walked into our bathroom and shut the door, showered quickly, and threw on a pair of boxers (abby’s) and a t shirt (also abby’s) before returning to our room to find my girlfriend awake.

“hi angel.” i smiled, stroking abby’s cheekbone.

her brows furrowed and her bottom lip stuck out in a pout. i tried to kiss it away, but she was persistent.

“what’s wrong, my love? you’re all pouty.”

“you showered.”

“yes? was i not supposed to?”

her pout intensified and her cheeks dusted pink. “i wanted to eat you out.”

i snorted a laugh at her. “you’re welcome to do that still.”

“no, babeeeee. i wanted to eat you out before you showered.” she whined softly.

“well now i’m all clean and ready for you.”

“but i like the way you…the way you smell after the gym, baby.”

“i’ll keep that in mind, love.” i laughed.

“what color panties were you wearing today?”

my eyes went wide and my jaw fell slack. “excuse me?”

“what color were they?”

“i- abby? black, i think?”

abby pushed herself up off the bed and made her way to our bathroom.

“abigail grace. you better not.”

i received no answer as she retrieved my underwear from the floor of our bathroom, bringing it back to our bed like a puppy.

“jesus christ, woman.” i said, not believing my eyes. i knew she loved the way i smelled after the gym, but i couldn’t fathom her actions.

she sat back down where she was previously and pressed my panties against her face, a soft moan escaping her lips.

“fuck, abby.”

her hand trailed down to rub her clit through the boxers she was wearing.

“you filthy fucking bitch, oh my god.”

the groan she let out at my words was entirely unexpected. “keep talking. tell me how filthy i am.”

my breath caught in my throat for a moment, but it didn’t take me long to bring my lips to her ear and my hand to her throat, gently applying pressure to her pulse point. “you really get off on this, huh?”

“mhm…”

“needy fucking whore, touching yourself to the smell of me.”

her fingers circled her aching clit faster as i spoke, breathy moans leaving her pretty lips.

“christ, look at you. got my panties practically shoved up your nose. fucking disgusting, good god. nasty fucking slut.”

“baby, i’m so fuckin’ close, please keep talking, please.”

“they’re still fucking damp, aren’t they? you can feel it up against your nose, huh? all that sweat from my workout, you like how my pussy smells after the gym, huh? always eat me out so good after a workout, like you’re fucking starving. greedy little perv, so fuckin’ pussy whipped that you’ll get off to the smell of my dirty panties.”

her whines were high pitched now, i knew how close she was, so i pulled back and looked into her eyes. there was barely any blue left, her pupils were so dilated.

“cum for me, my pretty whore.”

abby threw her head back as she finished, my used underwear never leaving her nose. she paused to catch her breath, setting my panties on her shoulder as she cooled down. my lips found hers, and i could just barely smell myself on her nose as we kissed.

“you’re so fucking sexy, baby. so fucking hot, thank you so much.” she said in between kisses.

maybe i’ll shower right after the gym more often.

[spideyhexx]

oct. 20th - closing arguments

Jack Prescott x Intern!FemaleReader

mdni!!! wc; 4.1k cw; power play technically, age gap, blowjob

kinktober masterlist

jack is an oc! here is his fact sheet!

a/n; aha! the first jack fic :) love you all who have loved him since his creation this is for all of youuuuu

There is no way this day could get any worse. 

Jack prides himself on being able to handle high levels of stress. He would not have gotten through law school if he couldn’t. 

But every fiber of his being was being tested today. 

A meeting right as the clock struck eight was not always so bad, but when it was a horrid divorce case with a fumbling husband sobbing at Jack’s desk and blowing his nose into tissue after tissue, it got tiring quickly. Then of course a client cancelled last minute. This would sound like a good thing, but it sets Jack back a bit because this is the third time said client has rescheduled. 

And this time, he didn’t give a new date!

It’s a surprise Jack hasn’t popped open his liquor cabinet. 

Lunch was fine, but the leftover spaghetti he brought in tasted like a freezer burn. His afternoon became jam-packed. He expected it, yet it still caught him struggling to maintain his sanity. Between meetings, and dealing with an insolent co-worker who wrote up a report so incorrectly, Jack wondered if the guy was drunk, his secretary having to leave early, to the fact his damn computer keeps running slow…yeah. 

It was a bad day. 

Perhaps even worse, today was the day he scheduled overtime for half of the office. A little ‘bonding’ thing he learned from the law firm he worked at before having his own. He’d order dinner for everyone from a fancy place and everyone would get to know how one another works at nine p.m.

Perfect, right?

The dinner itself was okay. The food was good, which was a win in his book. Jack makes sure to jot down the restaurant name in his little notepad for future reference. The co-workers he scheduled for overtime were always on the cusp of complaining, but when he entered the room, they were all smiles and enjoying their heavy pasta. 

After food though, it was a time crunch until 10:30 when everyone could go home and Jack left everyone to their work to do his own. And maybe have some whiskey. He deserved it, didn’t he? 

That’s what he tells himself, at least. 

He stands from his desk and smooths his palms on the front of his slacks, walking the short distance to his liquor cabinet. He bends down to swat and opens it, taking out the glass and bottle that was mostly full. 

A knock on his office door almost startles the glass out of his hand and Jack puts both objects back into the cabinet. He straightens up, clearing his throat as he walks back to his desk, tugging the sleeve of his fitted dark green sweater, “Come in,” his voice rings out clear and loud to whoever is on the other side of the door, and he takes a seat in his chair. 

The door creaks open and you peek your head in first before pushing the door more open, “Uh, Mr. Prescott, can I speak with you a minute?”

The intern. You’ve been here for four months now, mostly doing the busy work of paralegals and assisting Mr. Prescott. Jack’s sure you’re the best intern he’s hired. He’s already started a draft for a recommendation letter (which you did and did not ask for, but more-so implied you would like at the end of your internship) and Jack feels quite good about your future prospects. Not that he cares too much, but it will be sad to lose you as a worker, the least he could do is help you in your next career journey. Right? 

Jack glances at the time, then over at you, leaning back in his chair, “Yeah, make it quick,” he says and you promptly walk in and close the door. 

Your palms already sweat at the fact you’re in here alone with him. Mostly because of what you need to talk about but also because it’s Jack Prescott. One of the top lawyers around the city. A bachelor. An incredibly handsome bachelor that looks like literal sex when he comes into work some days. It was torturous working for him and meeting his striking blue eyes when he held eye contact with you like he wanted you to feel it in the pit of your stomach. You did. You sure did, every single fucking time. 

You weren’t sure if he was aware of how hot he was. Or if he even thought about sex. Or if he dated. You gossiped with one of the only other women in the office about it one day, since you typically saw his calendar that included personal stuff like a lunch with his mother, doctor’s appointment, etc. But nothing on there seemed like a date. Your co-worker thinks he hooks up and that’s it, but even that you can’t get behind. The man is a mystery and good at keeping hismelf that way. 

You stop in front of his desk and pull at the hem of your skirt in a nervous tug, then open your mouth to speak, only to close it when he starts clicking at his keyboard. 

Jack takes a glance at you and gestures with his hand, “My apologies, just an email. One second.”

Jack types for another minute to finish the email, but it feels much longer than that. Much longer that you clasp your hands behind you and watch his fingers work at the keys in a manner so elegant. The metal of his watch glints off the light of his lamp at his desk. His overhead lights in his office are dimmed down, the city night skyline shining through his large windows behind him. 

His hair, which is usually slicked, has some strands out of place. Jack’s eyes are more tired and being his intern, you know the day’s been hectic. Part of you wants to ask if he’s doing okay, but his head is turning back to you and your words are caught in your throat. 

“Alright, go on,” he gestures once more with his hand to you, leaning back in his desk chair, one hand resting on his desk, the other dropping to his thigh. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow it before looking into his eyes. 

“Right, well two things uh,” you pause, shifting on your feet, “One, George messed up the printer somehow so-”

“The printer?” Jack’s brow immediately furrows and you want to smooth out the lines so bad it makes you heat up. You should not be thinking that way. 

“Yeah, I don’t know specifically what’s wrong with it but-”

“So you don’t know the specifics and you still came to me?” Jack interrupts again and you feel that urge to shrivel at his tone. 

“I thought it best that you know right away sir-Mr. Prescott,” you get out your words as calm as you can, keeping your voice level and your gaze on him. You learned it from him. To not cower. 

Jack gives one nod, his jaw setting and a hand swiping to his jaw. He taps his fingers to it, then says, “Is it gonna set us back then? I don’t have anything to print and IT won’t be able to help until Monday.”

“George still had like four copies to print and Rosie said she needed it too,” you tell him, unable to avoid the hesitancy in your voice. 

Because Jack does rub to his face again in semi-annoyance, “Can anyone try to fix it?” 

“Don’t think so.”

“Great. Thanks. What else do you need then?” He says flippantly, tugging at his sweater to fix it, and your eyes naturally follow the movement. 

The slight bite in his voice makes you very hesitant to ask him your question, but you steel yourself, squeezing your hands together, “I know it’s last minute but I need to take off on Monday and I know-”

Jack raises his hand to stop you from speaking and then runs his hand through hair. Gods he must be stressed. Annoyed. If he’s gonna mess up his hair like that. In front of you. 

“I did need you, Monday. That big client from SoHo is coming, thought you knew that.”

“I did! I did, but…,” you take a breath, “I have my like…last exam of college ever on Tuesday and I just need to study and relax and y’know it’s obviously super important and-”

“Okay,” he interrupts. He has a penchant for that tonight. “Fine. Take the day, but I’m not rescheduling with that client, so it’s your loss,” Jack tells you with a shrug, a look on his face saying he’s slightly disappointed but he’s not gonna harp on it much longer. 

The look does not make you feel any better, but you let out a deep exhale and nod to him, “Yeah, okay, thank you, Mr. Prescott, really.”

Jack’s voice is quick, almost sharp, “Don’t thank me.”

You nod again, albeit a little more awkwardly this time. A moment of silence befalls the two of you and you find yourself smoothing your skirt. 

You’re about to turn on your heel to leave his office, when he stands up, eyeing you up and down with a curious gaze, “You good? You look stressed.”

“Oh, just long day and the exams,” you say with a half-hearted chuckle, watching him closely as he stalks over towards his bookshelf. 

Jack gives a hum, then leans down to his cabinet, contemplating what he’s about to do. He shouldn’t. He knows that. But it’s close to closing. And you look as tired and stressed as he is. There’s no harm in it. He grabs the whiskey bottle he was pining for earlier and two glasses, “Do you drink?”

His question catches you off guard, but you nod, “Uh, yeah.”

Jack sets the glasses down, then looks to his office door, and back to you, popping open the bottle, “It’s whiskey. Keep this between us, I’m not sharing with the lot,” he gestures towards the door. 

A nervous tingle runs up your spine as you watch him pour the liquid into the two glasses, glancing from his hands to his face, which has a look of concentration and something else in it. 

He walks closer to hand you your glass, your fingertips brushing his as you take it from him. You’re not sure if he also felt what you felt, but you push it to the further recesses of your mind. 

You look down at the liquid in your glass as he leans back against the edge of his desk, sipping the whiskey. His eyes are on you, you know they are. You’ve sipped wine in front of him before, so what was so different about this? 

The dimmed office lights? The fact that your coworkers were probably packing up to leave? The fact he even offered a drink in the first place?

He breaks you from your thoughts, “Do you know how to drink it? The whiskey?”

You’ve not had it before. But even if you did no, you say no. 

Jack hums, “Small sip. Swish it in your mouth a little, then swallow,” then he does it himself to demonstrate. It’s pure desire what you feel when you watch him sip. How his eyes stay on yours over the rim of his glass and his free hand pushes into the pocket of his slacks. Everything about him right now is so at ease and sexy. 

You nod, and take a small sip of the drink, only swishing it in your mouth for a second, before you swallow it and grimace, “Oh…wow.”

Jack stifles his smile. Smile. He shakes his head, clearing his throat, “Yeah, it’s…you don’t have to drink all of it.”

“I won’t,” you chuckle, walking closer to him so you could put it on his desk. The lack of hesitance in your action to come over close to him has him straightening up just a little. You pause at the movement though, looking at your whiskey. “Maybe one more sip.” 

Jack lets himself chuckle. A breath of a chuckle, “It gets you.”

With your eyes on his, you sip, swish it, and swallow, trying to hide your grimace. Jack sets his glass down, then takes yours, his thumb ever so slightly brushing the tip of your thumb. He puts the glass down and maybe this is when you should move away from him but your feet feel stuck to the floor, admiring him up closer in the dim light. 

Jack doesn’t know what he’s doing either. He’s yelling at himself internally to dismiss you. He still had some work to do. But you’re there. Pretty in your work attire. Pretty. He shouldn’t think of that. 

He clears his throat and crosses his arms to his chest, “You should…head back to work and all. Think you got like 15 more minutes.”

Jack could never admit to himself he found his intern attractive. You were younger than him and again, his intern. So he avoided those thoughts like the plague, but you standing right here in front of him while you’re both tired was not helping. 

Jack picks his whiskey glass back up as you give the slightest nod, but make no move to go. “Yeah…have…some work…,” you trail off, “question?”

He raises his brow, sipping a very small sip, then he says, “Yes?”

“Just wanted to know for that uh…what that lawyer gala thing you have to go to-”

He rolls his eyes, “Yes, what about it?”

“Are you bringing your girlfriend as the plus one or?”

You don’t know what’s come over you and you know deeply how wrong this could go but you can’t stop. Not when he’s looking like this and you can smell his cologne. Fuck has it been that long of a day? 

“Girlfriend? I don’t have one,” he says, a confused look etched onto his face. 

“Oh? I thought maybe…,” you stop yourself, then say, “Well, I know you’ll have the extra ticket and I know you took Ethel last year because she mentioned it like five times to me but maybe I could go with you?”

Jack takes a second to study your face, like he thinks you’re lying about what you truly want to say, but he doesn’t press. “Yeah, maybe. It’s near the end of your internship, so it could be a good way to close it out.”

You take a mindless step closer to him, a genuine smile on your lips. You didn’t give a fuck about that gala but the idea of attending with him all dressed up certainly made you feel good. Your breath feels heavier as the two of you look at one another. 

Jack notes the step and you swear you see his eyes glance to your legs, “What’re you doing?”

You falter at the question, taking a small step back, “Nothing, Mr. Prescott.”

Jack tilts his head at you. God, he’s thinking so hard. You can practically see the gears turning in his head working overtime and you’re trying not to rub your thighs together and make it more obvious what you’re feeling. 

“Think maybe I do want another sip of whiskey,” you joke, but mean it, to break the silence. 

He huffs, a slight smile curving his pretty lips, “Come get it, then.”

You swallow. Then take the steps closer, reaching your hand to the side of him to take the glass. Maybe you purposely brush your arm to him. Maybe it wasn’t on purpose. 

When you take a small sip, your eyes find his once more. He’s so tall. And you almost catch how he’s gazing over well, all of you. “Come closer,” he says, a hint quieter, like he didn’t mean to say the words aloud, but you surely heard him. 

You listen and do so, to his surprise, but he sets his glass down, then reaches his hand out for your glass, taking it in his hand. 

He parts his lips to speak, then hesitates. Jack glances to his office door, then back to you. 

Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. Until, “Open your mouth a little.”

Your eyes widen immediately and you can tell he’s about to rescind his words, but you do it. You open your mouth for him and pray that it’s not so deplorable that he scoffs and kicks you out. 

Jack swallows hard, his jaw tightening and he brings the lip of the glass your mouth, pouring just a bit of the whiskey into your mouth, then nudging under your chin with his fingers to close your mouth. You obey the action, letting the lliquid swirl in your mouth before you swallow and he puts the glass down, fingers still to your chin. 

His eyes bore into your eyes. Fucking thinking and surrounding themselves with intent. “Open…open again.”

How could you refuse?

When your mouth parts the slightest bit, Jack’s bringing his mouth in close. An embarrassing noise leaves your lips at the action and your hand holds to his wrist. 

Jack stares intensely at you, “Just…just go…back and do your work,” he whispers, his breath hitting your lips, “I shouldn’t…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence and you finish it for him, “No, you shouldn’t do this.”

Your eyes tell him a different story. The way you squeeze to his wrist and not once glance away from him tells him you’re not uncomfortable. You’re not leaving his space, you move closer until he can feel the brush of your chest to his. 

Jack doesn’t know what’s come over him, but his breath shudders and he pools the saliva in his mouth, the slowly spits onto your bottom lip into your mouth, before crashing his lips to yours. 

It’s a rough, messy kiss, as though Jack is starving for the feel of your lips on his. Like he wants them melded to him and imprinted for a long time. Your tongue slides his bottom lip and sucks on it, which is when he breaks the kiss and lets go of you, walking straight to his office door to lock it, before he’s coming back over to you, scratching a hand at his head, “You should go, I-”

“Mr. Prescott, it’s-”

He groans at the title you give him, granted the one you always call him and his hands are bringing your head closer, kissing you once more. He ends up leaned against the edge of his desk again with you pressing yourself into his fit body, taking the opportunity to slide your hands on his arms and his chest, to feel the muscle you’ve somewhat seen but knew he had. 

Jack is lost in it, clearly still fighting with himself, but also leaning into the way you suck and bite at his lips. His hands move down your body, caressing your hip and keeping you pulled in close to him. 

When you pull for a breath, his eyes are dazed and his lips much redder. You can’t think. All you can do is slip down till you’re on your knees in front of him.

Jack curses to himself, looks away from you for a moment before looking back down to you, “I can’t come back from this.”

“I’m an intern for one more month,” you say, like that makes it any better, but god does he look good from this angle.

He doesn’t like that answer, but he drops his hand to his belt to undo it, his other hand in your hair, “Have you done this before?”

“Gone down on a guy?” 

He nods, putting his belt on his desk, quickly looking to his door before looking back at you.

“Yeah, I have,” you admit to him, watching his fingers undo the button of his slacks. 

“Okay. So, you know what you’re doing?” 

You nod, eyes glued to his fucking hand, unzipping his slacks and pushes them down just a little, “Show me, then,” he says, voice a little quieter. 

You waste no time, tugging to his boxers before he could do it, exposing him in his office. There’s no time to think about how this is your boss’ cock, it’s just Jack, you tell yourself in the moment. You spits into your palm and ignore the way his hand tightens to your head, wrapping your fingers to him. 

You give him a few languid strokes to help him harden, a low groan leaving his lips before he clears his throat, “Don’t tease, right now, we can’t…it’s gotta be-”

“I know, Mr. Prescott,” you interrupt him this time, giving his tip one small lick. Jack bites to his cheek, watching you intently. 

You open your mouth a little and let the head of his cock rest on your tongue, your free hand holding to his thigh. 

“Fuck,” he says under his breath, resisting his urge to push himself all the way into your mouth. You wrap your lips to him and take more of his cock into your mouth, humming around him.

“That’s it,” he mutters, watching as you try to take more of him and immediately realize you can’t. Jack shakes his head at you, “Can’t take more of it?”

He’s just big and thick. Jack fills your mouth and it feels good to have the weight on your tongue. You bob your head on what you can fit, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking him hard to get the ball rolling since the quicker this is, the better. For now. 

Jack is good at keeping quiet, but his heavy breaths and curses right under his breath make you want to escalate this to something more than you simply sucking his cock. 

When you try to take him more into your mouth, your throat constricts and you gag, closing your eyes and breathing deeply through your nose. 

“Don’t hurt yourself. Take what you can, it’s good enough,” he says through a rushed breath, a surprisingly tender feeling coursing through you when he rubs his thumb into your temple. Once the feeling passes, you continue to work him, using your other hand to stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth. 

You know Jack likes it, even with your eyes closed, because his hand tightens to your head and he lets out a shakier breath. The Jack Prescott with a shaky breath is something you couldn’t imagine but here he was. 

“You’re so fucking good,” he whispers, the volume of his voice just enough for you to hear, but not too loud, “Really taking it, huh…this is fucked up,” he groans at himself then swallows his noises, his hand moving to the back of your head. 

“C’mon, pretty, just hurry up, make me cum, this needs to be over, c’mon,” Jack says, patting the back of your head a few times and you move faster, the slick of your spit on his cock making the most noise in the room, but you hope it can’t be heard outside of it. You pull back, only to swirl your tongue on his tip and suck on the sensitive head, your hand jerking him in quick motions

“Almost, almost,” Jack warns you, his chest breathing heavy and his hand pressing more into your head as you focus mostly on his tip, sucking it over and over again. You flatten your tongue to it, then open your mouth and slap his cock to your tongue, a desperate move to turn him on as much as possible and have him cumming down your throat.

The action does have an affect on him. Jack’s breath sutters and he pushes your head to take more of him, “what the fuck,” he whispers to himself as he tips his head back, putting his arm over his mouth and lets out a muffled, but strangled groan.

His load shoots into your mouth, coating your tongue in it’s salty sweet taste and you moan around him, swallowing every drop he give you and eagerly licking at any that beads out of his tip as he finishes. 

Jack takes his cock out of your mouth and pulls his boxers up, followed by his slacks and his quickness makes you stand. You weren’t even touched yet you feel wobbly on your feet.

He stares at you as he fumbles with his belt, “Uh…I think you better get home, it’s uh…it’s time.”

Jack clears his throat, shaking his head and trying to forget what just happened as you stand there dumbfounded.

“Um…Mr. Prescott-”

“Go home,” he repeats himself, his tone more stern than he means to come off. He smooths at his slacks and moves around his desk to sit in his chair, moving the mouse of his desktop to turn the screen on. 

“Work…on Wednesday?”

He glances at you. A blank stare coating his face. “Yeah. Work on Wednesday. 9 am. Good luck on the exam.”

You nod and turn, wiping at your mouth as you walk straight to his door, messing with the lock and leaving him alone in his office.

[generational-atrophy]

Can I request the allies helping their S/O when their depression keeps them in bed for a few days, which isn't normal for them.

hetalia allies when their s/o is going through a depressive episode

1.8k words ~ gender neutral scenarios

tw: theyre not always the best but they figure it out (:

a/n: hope this was ok. if u want just like, comfort, thats cool and i can do that too seperately (: but anon i totally get i got crippling depression too. were alll in this togeeethherrr

America

Depressive episodes were nothing out of the usual for you. What was out of the usual though, was just how horribly this one was hitting you. But it seems like the person who it hurt the most, was Alfred.

Once you began spending the majority of your time in bed, he began to bother you incessantly. It'd be more annoying for you if it wasn't clear just how much Alfred was panicking.

Every day he returned from home to find you in your miserable state, he would question your sudden episode over and over again until one of you fell asleep. He offered to take you somewhere, to buy you everything, anything to get you back to normal. No matter how much you insisted that none of that would help, he continued.

That was until one day, upon his return from work, he didn't immediately come up to interrogate your lack of motivation. From your shared bed, you could vaguely hear him fumbling around downstairs. After a while, his footsteps finally echoed up the stairs.

Your door creaked open slowly, revealing Alfred awkwardly carrying bags of snacks as well as a TV. He rushed forward to throw everything on the bed before starting to hook up the TV in front of the bed.

“Alfred?”

“Yeah?“

”What are you doin'?“

”Making this room fun to be in,” He answered bluntly, but his tone was kind.

After a minute, he finished setting up the TV and crawled into bed with you. Before you could say anything, he pulled you flush against his side.

“Staying in here is no good for you, but at least there's ways to make it... less bad.” He told you softly.

You took a moment to respond, ”Can... can you stay in here with me?“

”I'll stay in here until you're ready to leave, K?“

England

As soon as your illness began to rear its ugly head, Arthur took notice. It's not like it hadn't happened before, after all. The unusual eating habits, the exhaustion, how less excited you would become over things you love, it's all typical. So he would help the way he usually did.

If you're too tired for work or school, he gets you out of it. If you're hungry, he makes whatever you want anytime. If you're slacking on chores, he makes up for it two-fold.

The entire time you spend gloomily sitting on your phone or watching TV, Arthur is running from place to place in a panic. It's clear why, he's just desperately trying to ”solve“ your sadness. After all, over his many periods of depression, he always works himself to the bone to get through them. He struggles to understand how you can just... sit there.

But of course, that's not how human depression tends to work. Seeing him so motivated did nothing but make you more insecure about your own sudden ”laziness.” Living in an incredibly clean house only helps for so long until it starts feeling weird.

The only place safe from his worried frenzy was the bedroom, where you lay nearly all day. It was quiet there, at least. Not frustrating like everything else. That was until Arthur interrupted your silence by joining you in bed with a huff.

“Love, you've been in here all day.”

You didn't respond, simply nodding and rolling to face away from him.

“What's wrong?”

Still, no response.

He grabbed your shoulder lightly, trying to pull you to face him.

“What is it?”

“You know what's wrong.”

He sighed, before laying down as well. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, his soft breath hitting the back of your neck as his heart beat against your back.

“I guess a better question would be... do you want to talk about it?”

You pause, ”Not really...“

”Well, I'll be here with you until you do.“

”No running around?“

He chuckles, ”No, I'll stay here. After all, you're strong... I imagine this won't last forever, right Love?“

France

Francis is a sensitive person, but most importantly he's an emotionally intelligent one. He notices as soon as your depression begins to get bad again, and he always tries to do little things to help. But... he knows that you're the one who's had to live in your head for years. The only reason he would go out of his way to help is if you asked him to.

Which you usually don't. It never seems to stay unbearable long enough for you to justify asking him, even though he's made clear he's always willing to do anything for you.

But this time is different, it feels as if your thoughts can't stop, no matter what you do. Even as you rest in bed, you only get more and more tired, more angry and miserable. Francis noticed this... but he wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want him to.

At least, that's how he thinks usually. But now, seeing his beloved sobbing for the 15th day in a row, he decided he had to do something.

Early in the morning, before the sun had fully risen, you were awoken by Francis's smiling face.

”Time to get up!“

”No-“

You were swiftly cut off by him grabbing your arms and pulling you upwards.

”I've set out clothes for you. We're going somewhere.“

You shook your head, ”W-Where? I'm tired-“

”It's gonna be fun! I'll buy you coffee on the way, don't worry.“

So up you were, regardless of your protests.

An hour-long car drive later, and you understood why he was so enthusiastic about going here. Before you stood the most stunning valley you had ever seen, surrounded by perfectly green trees and water so blue you could've sworn it was fake. But the breeze flowing through your hair said otherwise.

“While we walk to the beach, you can tell me all about what's wrong, okay?” He locked his hand around yours.

Sure, it didn't solve everything. But... it was better than the bedroom.

China

Yao doesn't really... understand what depression is. When you tell him it's a “mental illness” all he understands is “illness.” So the moment things start getting worse for you, he's recommending all the things he learned to make sick people better.

If it gets to the point of being bedridden, he acts like you're gonna die. Which is obviously not very... comforting. So after many times of you telling him to leave you alone, he's gotten used to popping in every couple of hours with tea, but that's it.

After all, you're usually back to your normal self pretty quickly. But this time, he can tell something's off; and he's not about to let you wither away.

So, one morning, you're awoken to a delicious breakfast already in your lap and Yao sitting in front of you, looking like a kid on Christmas.

“Wh- Yao? Why did you...”

“You haven't been eating enough, and I don't want you getting tired soon.”

You looked at him suspiciously, “Why?”

“We have plans.“

”Good plans or bad plans?“

”Good plans! What do you think of me?“

Once you finished eating breakfast, he dragged you out of bed. No matter how much you protested, his grip on your hand was strong. He brought you to the other side of the house, into his already set-up studio.

”What are we doing in here?“ You ask nervously.

”Getting you out of bed,“ He responds quickly, gesturing to the yoga mat set up next to his.

All you could was sigh and stand next to him, waiting for instruction.

”Do we really have to do this?“

He nods, spreading his legs to the side and reaching down with one hand. Looking up at you expectantly, he smiled.

”It keeps you spry,“ He switched sides, ”It keeps you healthy.“

”I'm really not in the mood,“

”Trust me.“

With a huff, you slowly worked your creaking body into the same pose he pulled.

”I can't stand to see you suffer in that room.“

”It's not fun on my end either.“

”I love you. I wish you would tell me how to help.”

You groan as the next pose he demonstrated stretched you a little bit more than what was comfortable.

“You can't 'help.' Just gotta wait it out.“

He took a moment to respond, “Well, I suggest you wait it out in ways that get your mind off everything. Like this.”

“It's helping the tiniest bit, I guess...”

He chuckled, “We will keep working at it until you feel better. No matter how long it takes.”

Russia

When your depression gets bad, it seems to be obvious to everyone... except Ivan. Despite you bringing it up to him, he either doesn't know what to do... or he doesn't care. The possibility of the latter doing nothing to make you feel any better.

Even as you spend all day laying in bed, crying constantly, he doesn't seem to notice. He just acts like you aren't... suffering. That stings, a lot more than anything else creating this depressive episode.

But after a week of this unending gloominess, you get a strange text from Ivan.

“Come downstairs.”

Weird and annoying... but more importantly ominous. It takes you only a second to throw on a hoodie and rush downstairs. You can't hear his usual humming, and the house seems completely still as you search for him. But when you look out the back window, you see him.

As you enter the backyard, you fully see what he was doing.

In the middle of the yard, he set up a picnic. Surrounding him is a mountain of bright flowers, and tens of little plates bearing your favourite sweets lay on the light blanket.

“Come sit, darling.”

You would be foolish of you to not oblige. Once you sat down next to him, he reached out to stroke your cheek lovingly.

”What is torturing you so horribly?“

You took a deep breath, “Where to start?”

“Wherever you want,” he clucks his tongue sympathetically, resting his hand on your thigh.

“Y-You know... I thought you didn't care. You've been so... normal...”

Ivan looks awkward, averting his gaze, “I didn't want to make it worse. You're so strong, I knew you could get through it on your own. I'm sorry.”

“I can.... but I don't want to...”

He leans forward, kissing your forehead.

”I promise, now, you will never deal with anything alone.“

”You're sure it won't be too much?“

”Never. Never too much.“

hey there. its gonna get better. its gonna be different. but its gonna get better. there are hundreds of people youre gonna meet, and hundreds of places youre gonna go, and its gonna be amazing. one day youll wake up and realize everything is alright. because youre gonna be ok.

[thebrainrotsreal]

Invincible Fic Recs

Also bored as hell so here's Invincible fic recommendations because I can, in no particular order. This fandom's weirdly small (from what I can see) but there are people making fics and I will treasure and cherish them until the sun explodes. Thank you fanfic writers, I love you fanfic writers, doing incredible work, fanfic writers <3 Maybe you've read all these already, or hopefully you can find a fic to adore! TBH a lot of Mark-centic fics because I am biased <3 Feel free to add on!!!

 something better, pushed right back by umanta | Word Count: 13k | Tags to Note: PTSD, Homophobia, Racism, Child Abuse | Oneshot

Being invincible has less to do with the body and more to do with the soul. Mark's friends use the power of teenage shenanigans to help him find his feet again.

Notes: Literally one of my fav Invincible fics of all time. They're just teens and I love all of them so much.

me and myself by avisisisisisissss (joyfuldreamlandcheesecake) | Word Count: 4.6k | Tags to Note: AU, Torture, Evil Mark, Dimensional Travel | WIP!

Mark is dealing with Angstrom's death and the stains of blood on his hands. Meanwhile, Mark has been captured by Cecil, who is torturing him to get him to answer to him. ...It's complicated. Or, when his evil version from another universe ends up in this dimension, Mark starts to feel like someone threw gasoline in his dumpster fire of a life.

Notes: Me biased? Pshhh, not at all. But AU based on a post of mine, please read it, it's really incredible already :)

in the end, you're all i have by orphan_account | Word Count: 1.4k | Tags to Note: Post-Season 1, Hugging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort | Oneshot

Amber’s incredulous look is only brief before she reaches over and grabs the book, opening it to the last page that she was reading. Mark’s eyes are fluttering before she even makes it through the first page; his body goes slack against her, breathing lulls, attention wavers. But she keeps reading the words on the pages, brushing her hand through his hair until she hears soft snores whistling through his nostrils and he finally succumbs to his exhaustion.

Notes: I love Amber and Mark and this is such so soft and good. Truly lovely.

Architect of Your Own Demise by Marzi | Word count: 7k | Tags to Note: AU, Role Reversal, Canon levels of violence, | Oneshot

A lot of his dad's stories were about a beautiful wizard saving a prince from a tall, lonely tower. His dad had a whole series of adventures they went on once the prince was rescued. Though he still seemed to get into plenty of trouble, the wizard always helped him escape. Finding out the stories were true had been thrilling. His mother did save his father when they first met, but she hadn't used spells. She was an alien. She was a superhero. And one day, Mark would be too.

Notes: In all honesty, Marzi writes so many epic Invincible fics, it's had not to list them all, please check them out if you somehow havent' already??? I am weak for Role Swaps though and this is does it so well.

Cold Snap by Marzi (series) | Word Count: 11.9k total | Tags to Note: what if debbie was also allowed to make bad choices, possession, potentially disturbing mutilation based impulses | WIP!

The edge of her mouth twitched again, like it was caught on some hook. She was smiling. She was laughing at him. That wasn't his wife. He moved forward, hand outstretched and on her throat. He had her pinned against the counter before he finished blinking. "What are you?" She leaned into him, unconcerned with the threat against her. It also clearly didn’t care about hiding anymore. "Think you have time to find out?"

Notes: Another Marzi fic because I love Debbie. POSSESSED DEBBIE LIKE HELLO??? I had to share.

Spill the tea boy by mandaree1 | Word Count: 1k | Tags to Note: Set After "It's Been A While", | Oneshot

Mark is visited by friends on Thraxa.

Notes: Crying sobbing begging for more GoG & Mark interactions like these. They heal me ok, thank you, op.

all the things left behind by cadastre | Word Count: 28K | Tags to Note: AU, Captivity, Forced Cohabitation, Aftermath of Torture, Survivor's Guilt, Nolan Grayson's A+ Parenting | WIP!

Mark is invincible. When the world ends, that becomes William's problem.

Notes: Omg fucked up Mark and William interactions??? HELLO? Yes PLEASE? No one is having a good time <3 I haven't seen a fic quite like this so please read!

from a body that used to be yours by thislittlebagofdreams | Word Count: 30K | Tags to Note: Angst, Self Hatred, Alien Biology, Binge Eating, | WIP!

After his dad reveals the truth, Mark returns home to find half the silverware missing. Or: After his dad reveals the truth, Mark reminds his mom too much of his dad.

Notes: I haven't seen an alien bio fic either for this fandom and this is STELLAR! I love the change that Viltramites can't cry, that's such a epic idea???

All Alone Now by YingYangKay | Word Count: 2k | Tags to Note: Solitary Confinement, Dissociation, | Oneshot

Imprisoned and alone, (Evil) Mark has plenty of time to self-reflect and think about his life choices.

Notes: ILY EVIL MARK! I just adore his POV as he reflects, entrapped, and alone. Angst my beloved.

Again, feel free to add on! :D I hope someone finds a new fic to read and adore!!!

[jaydaichu]

may i request how the armed detective agency reacts when they found out dazai actually has a s/o? maybe they can find out by following dazai around shdhdhd.

dazai said he has some important matters to attend to, and atsushi (and kunikida of course-) decides to follow to figure out if he plans to slack or something

hopefully this make sense hhhh

"𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒" 𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

This was so fun to write, I hope you enjoy it! <3 and happy Valentine’s Day!!

“Well, would you look at the time! I have to be somewhere to see someone, so I’ll see you all later!” Dazai grinned, packing up his stuff.

The members of the Armed Detective Agency were all too used to how flighty the ex-mafioso was and of his hatred for working, but, somehow he seemed… different today.

At least, according to Kunikida he did. Atsushi didn’t quite see how he looked genuinely excited, more so than usual, but he was always up for something other than paper work.

And that was how Atsushi found himself ducking around a corner, spying creepily on Dazai. Kunikida was furiously scribbling down notes in his notebook, notes that probably pertained to his partner’s every expression.

The were-tiger could already feel a headache incoming. He couldn’t imagine that this would amount to more than an embarrassing goose chase.

You hummed a tune quietly to yourself as you perused the menu, still a little indecisive. Luckily, you were in no rush to order as you were waiting for you lover to arrive.

You always felt pulling him away from work for lunch, but he seemed all to eager to ‘take a break with his beloved’, as he always said.

Despite his outward ‘devil-may-care’ attitude, Dazai was an incredibly devoted partner, always eager to spend time with you. Smiling to yourself, you set down the menu, content to wait.

Just as you did so, the door opened, the chimes ringing pleasantly. Glancing backwards, a smile lit up your face at the familiar brunette.

You waved, and the moment he spotted you, his face lit up. In moments, he was sat beside you and hugging you tightly. “Oh, my delicate flower, how wondrous it is to see you! You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had!” He whined dramatically and slumped against you.

You laughed, but hugged him back. “Somehow, I doubt you’ve done much work, ‘Samu,” You teased. “But it’s good to see you too,” You added softer and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Dazai grinned genuinely, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Well, I’m sure you’ve done enough work for the both of us. So, lunch is on me, angel, order whatever you-!”

“DAZAI?!” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO THEM?!” Both your attention were immediately on the two men standing in the middle of the cafe, fingers pointing to you.

You didn’t recognize either of the men, but from the way your lover was groaning with an usually annoyed face palm, you could tell that he certainly did.

“Is something wrong? Or were neither of you taught any manners?” You deadpanned, irritated. Dazai was busy enough, the last thing you wanted was two strangers interrupting your time together.

Dazai smirked and patted your cheek lovingly. “Don’t worry, angel, they’re just my coworkers, who must’ve followed me like stalkers!” He announced, pointedly.

The blonde man jolted at his words and cleared his throat awkwardly. “A-apologies, we were just suspicious as to why Dazai is always leaving during the day…”

Your jaw dropped and a scandalized noise left you. “‘Samu! You never told them about me?!” You gasped. The younger of your partner’s coworkers stepped forward, smiling sheepishly.

“My name is Nakajima Atsushi! Nice to meet you!” The boy had such a genuine smile that you couldn’t help but shaker god outstretched hand.

“I’m Ln Yn, it’s nice to put a face to the name! In fact-!” A hand was placed on your shoulder and you glanced back, the sight of your lover desperately trying to smile while shaking his head, as if already knowing what you were going to say.

“But I want to meet your coworkers! You always have such good things to say about them!” You pouted, knowing he could hardly resist anything you wanted when you did so. His eye twitched but he sighed over dramatically.

“Fine! But don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Ah, you’d forgotten about the blonde man, but Dazai certainly hadn’t.

“Blink twice if you need help, darling, honestly,” A scarily beautifully woman commanded, shielding your eyes from your protesting partner.

“Mmm… I don’t know,” A man sporting nerdy glasses interjected, hands full of snacks, “they actually want to date him,” He deduced incredulously.

“Why is that such a surprise, Ranpo?! I am a catch after all!” Dazai shouted, shaking his fist at ‘Ranpo’. Everyone shrugged with a dubious sound, causing you to laugh.

Everyone quieted down, surprised by your sudden amusement, Dazai included. After you calmed down, you smiled at everyone in the room.

“I’m glad to see that ‘Samu has plenty of people to take care of him!” You smiled fondly, “And to knock him down a notch, god knows he needs it…” You added under your breath.

“Angel, not you too!” Dazai cried, falling to his knees. “I’m never letting you meet them again,” He promised, fist to his chest.

“Anyways, you should come over more often!” Atsushi offered, much to your excitement and your lover’s horror.

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[hisui-dreamer]

I saw the recent request from skinny lector, I loved it, I felt identified, idk if it's not much, I could request the same but with my favs lilia, jamil, vil and rook, when skinny lector fem would like to be more voluptuous (like more curves kdjsj) but because of her metabolism she can't gain weight and this frustrates her :(( , tenks ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

his unwavering support

Characters: Lilia, Jamil, Vil, Rook

Synopsis: Your body's metabolism can be frustrating, but at least he's right here to support you.

Tags: body image issues, comfort, fluff, bot proofread

Word count: 813

Notes: as always, i hope everyone can be happy and comfortable in their own skin and body!

Part 1 ✧ Masterlist

he thinks it's a human thing, but he's very supportive nonetheless

he finds you perfect in all ways, and really it's your spirit that has captivated him

but he'd encourage you to be what you want to be

this old fae is just happy to see you happy

and he's extra ready to help you by making sure you're eating enough nutrients of course!

he's raised silver, and now he'll take good care of you too!

but the recipes always seen rather lacking...

no worries, he'll just add more nutrients!

don't pay heed to the ominous smell and colour, it's totally not edible!

yeahh maybe you shouldn't let him make food for you

still he'll be all the more willing to support you

he'll pop in at random hours of the day to see if you're hungry, and thankfully he'll give you ready made snacks

just, for your sake, don't eat his cooking

"Beastie! There you are." Lilia rushes up to you with a basket in hand. "I have prepared a dish for us to share. Please, do give it a try. I promise it's not as bad as it looks," he beams, but the less than pleasant smell is more than enough for you to doubt his words.

Jamil is very understanding and supportive of your insecurities

he truly loves you for who you are, and he couldn't be more grateful that you love him

but he understands that's just how insecurities work and he'd try his best to help you

he's a great listener, so he's always here to lend you an ear if you feel the need to rant

ever the practical and mindful thinker, he'd also offer practical advice on, life habits, diets, and even self-confidence tips

if you like his cooking, he's all the more willing to cook for you

always extends an invitation to you to kalim's banquets

and he makes sure to save a portion for you to eat later, so when you eventually get hungry, he can easily heat it up and serve it to you

keeps snacks on him at all times just in case you're suddenly hungry

all in all, he’s very accommodating and he’ll adapt to your every need

"Ya amar, is the food to your liking?" Jamil asks, reaching over with a napkin to gently wipe your cheek of sauce. At your nod, he smiles contentedly. "I'm glad, take your time and eat slowly, there's plently more left." He says as he starts eating his own plate.

he understands what it feels like to want to change yoruself

he himself has worked incredibly hard to achieve his own desired physique

but definitely emphasizes self-acceptance and confidence regardless of physical appearance

he'll love you regardless for who you are, even better when you're happy and confident in your own skin

he'll encourage you to work hard towards your goals

makes use of his knowledge on diets and nutrition, high protein smoothies!

once you've set yourself realistic goals, he'll be there every step of the way to make sure you're not slacking off

beware, he's a strict coach once he's invested

when he sees you in school, he'll chastise you on eating your meals and staying hydrated properly

you will not hurt your body to pursue your ideals, absolutely not on his watch

he'll sprinkle in bits of affection here and there to keep you motivated, so keep at it!

"Darling, I don't want you to feel like you have to change yourself. You are perfect just the way you are," Vil says, before laying a sweet peck on your forehead. "No one else would ever be worthy of being my lover, please know that." His breath tickles your forehead.

Rook finds beauty in anything and everything, but he can't deny he has a bias towards you

he'll genuinely be confused, but he's careful about asking you to elaborate your insecurities

he would never want to hurt your feelings

he definitely he waxes poetry about your beauty

he can be a little bit dramatic, but he means well

but man, he could go on for days about how your smile sends butterflies to his stomach

it's kind of a, he won't shut up about it so you'll have to accept his compliments

all the while, he’ll still support you whenever you need though

he understands that this is what you want, and he’ll be there for you every step of the way

literally

stalking showing up randomly throughout the day to make sure his beloved is doing well

your huntsman is… very devoted

"Mon chou, you are beautiful just the way you are. Beauty is not just about shape or size. It's the inner essence that makes a person shine. I am fascinated by everything that you are, and I hope that you can find the same joy within yourself. Je suis là pour toi, toujours."

Part 1 ✧ Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[azsazz]

CEO Nesta...? Please 🙏🙏

I need it 🥺

CEO!Nesta is THAT BITCH

CEO!Nesta intimidates everyone. There’s rumors around the office that she’s unable to smile, some say it’s because of bad botox (which she’s hasn’t had a need for yet, she just has a phenomenal skincare routine) and other say its because she was in an accident that left the muscles unable to work

CEO!Nesta is always working. Always always always. Never has time for a lunch break, meetings back-to-back, you don’t even know when she has time to go to the bathroom

You’re convinced that she thrives off of two hours of sleep

As her assistant, you’ve been in her office but haven’t seen a bed, but knows she has a closet for the late nights that turn into early morning with little to no sleep

CEO!Nesta isn’t a bitch, she just knows what she’s doing and how she wants it done. She doesn’t tolerate laziness or office gossip or any of that, she’s not afraid to fire someone on the spot

Thankfully, you don’t fit into those categories

You can see the stress lining her eyes the longer you work for her. So you start to do little things for her that she doesn’t take notice of in the beginning. You have her favorite coffees delivered in the afternoons where you know she’s had little sleep. You start rearranging her meetings on her calendar so that there’s more time between them to take a breath or use the restroom

When you really start getting comfortable with it, you schedule her an entire hour for lunch, and she calls you into her office

Your heart is beating out of your chest. Either you’re going to get fired or she’s going to make you schedule something. you know you won’t be thanked for it, but she deserves this kindness more than she realizes

CEO!Nesta blinks, confused. “What’s wrong with my calendar?”

“Nothing,” you answer nervously, “You have a free hour.”

CEO!Nesta looks confused, as if she doesn’t know what to do. She hasn’t had a free hour since she’s become CEO, she doesn’t think

You think she’s glitched out, the way she stares at the empty space on her calendar

Finally, she turns to you, and asks if you’d join her for lunch

You stammer out a yes, and she takes you to a nice restaurant, not needing a reservation because they always have a table for her

You find that you really like Nesta

She’s a woman who knows what she wants, is confident, intelligent, gorgeous and she’s funny. You don’t think you’ve laughed this much in ages

You start spending more time together and you make sure to give her an hour free when you can, and she always asks to spend that time with you

Things turn to something more before either of you notice. Gentle touches as you hand her things, a caress across your arm as she passes when you hold the door open to her meetings, linger glances that have you hot between you legs

CEO!Nesta has never been shy except for this. She doesn’t know how to make a move. Men are easy, she walks them like dogs, but you’re very much different

So she just goes for it. Invites you to have a late dinner in her office since the both of you are there. Everyone else has gone home, and when you’re both wine drunk with full stomachs, she leans forward and kisses you

It turns hot, quickly. The both of you are acting on feelings hidden, that have been growing and blooming ever since that first free hour. her hands shake a little, but her movements are still confident in the way they unzip your slacks

He lips are incredible, tongue even more so as she eats you out on the couch in her office. You cum embarrassingly quickly but she doesn’t seem to notice, shoving her fingers inside of you as she drags another orgasm from you

The frenzy turns more. You can’t keep your hands off of each other. Quickies in the bathrooms, smeared lipstick you help her fix, hair mused. Good thing she has that extra closet in her office because one morning she slipped a vibrator up your cunt after going down on you, and she turned it on throughout the day, setting the speed to tortuous, and you’d had to change into one of her skirts halfway through the day, only after she demanded you sit on her face

You’re no less reciprocating. You love the feeling of her creamy skin, so perfect and soft. The feeling of her clit between your teeth, her breasts in your mouth, fingers and toys and tongue and whatever you can get in the vicinity of her cunt. You’d even fingered and sucked at her clit under her desk while she was on a video call. You’d enjoyed her trying to keep her normally cool composure very much

[allastoredeer]

Hey! I just want to say, you are my gateway into Radioapple and Hazbin fics as a whole, and boy did you set an expectation for me!! I'm always afraid of coming across OOC fics, and I'm especially picky with what I choose to read at first when I'm still so new to fandom portrayals of characters. When I read the summary and tags of Just Kiss Already, I couldn't believe my eyes because it had everything I was looking for?!? Post season 1, Alastor whump (I squealed at the concept of the angelic wound), Luci having to face the public and his lack of knowledge regarding politics, jealous Vox, Overlord meetings, and! Fake/pretend relationship!! With the sprinkle of rumors and speculation from the public (Idk what it is with me and loving this trope). You delivered a full course meal! The characterization was so so amazing, I love the banter, and I just adore the concept of Alastor being vulnerable in front of someone stronger than him (that someone being Lucifer, who despite being the king of hell, doesn't use his powers to take advantage of Alastor's vulnerable state is ahhhhhh so good). The pacing is incredible, the interactions are golden, and I applaud you for writing POVs that feel real and authentic to canon!

One major thing that made me extremely picky about choosing and reading fics in the fandom was my fear of authors not being able to handle Alastor's Asexuality well. Thank you for doing Alastor justice, I'm so amazed at how well you wrote him in this regard. Like when Vox yelled at him "What does Lucifer have that I don't?", it didn't even cross Alastor's mind that this is a confession of sorts, and instead he thought Vox was talking about power. I love the subtleness of this so much!! The last chapter you posted was amazing in this regard, with Alastor's thoughts about relationships in general. Just, thank you for sharing your work with us, I enjoyed all of it, and I'm so excited to see where the story goes <3333

Another thing I'm still skeptical about is reading explicit fics, because... well, I'm not sure if they will handle Alastor's Ace identity well. Do you happen to have a recommendation for someone like me who's never read Radioapple smut before? And I would also love to know your overall favorite Radioapple fics as well, I've bookmarked some stuff and I don't know where to begin haha. Again thank you, and your blog and asks are so interesting to read!!

HI! HELLO! So this has been sitting in my inbox for a while and its not because I was ignoring it, its because I have come back to read it over and over and over again as I've been writing the next chapter to "Chaggie's Dating 101," and I didn't want to lose it in the void of my blog.

Thank you for this 🥺 not only is it cool being your introduction to Radiapple/HH fics, but I'm so glad you've been enjoying it too!! Hahaha I'm definitely having a lot of fun with "Just Kiss Already" and all the shenangians that are already happening, and knowing that other people are having just as much fun makes me just dlkfnvsdkgjslkgj 😭❤️

I totally get it about being picky. I'm a very picky reader too 😅 Alastor's aceness is definitely something that I can get picky about. Like, it doesn't have to be the focal point every time I read a smut fic--or any fic in general--but when it feels like its either brushed aside altogether or there's underlying aphobia (unintentionally, I'm sure), I nope out real quick. I base a lot of my own ace experiences, thoughts, and emotions on how I write Alastor, and it is so, so validating to see so many other people feeling the same way.

I'll admit, I can be a little more slack with smut fics so long as the smut itself is fantastic, but yeah, there are certain pairings or dynamics I don't stray into because I hate how Alastor is typically depicted, especially in smut fics.

I've slowly been going through all my Hazbin 'marked for later' fics, but here's some radioapple smut fics I have bookmarked (Warning: I enjoy dark and very explicit fics so be sure to read the tags when you look through these):

Bayou in the Mountain by lelepandewritium

With a Coffee and a Caress by winterveritas (<- my current fav radioapple smut fic)

Together In My Pocket by keelywolfe

Unhealthy Attachments by keelywolfe

And, of course, I always recommend checking out keelywolfe's Lucifer's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Relationship radioapple series! I haven't had time to finish it, but I think I'm up to fic 9 or 10 and I'm been loving it so much! It's so much fun! And I love the radioapple smut :3

I'm...just now realizing this is all the Radioapple smut I have in my bookmarks.

Wow.

I've been reading a LOT of smut recently, but looking back, I think it's all been RadioStatic 😂 if ya'll want any RadioStatic smut fic recs, let me know, I have a lot of those.

BUT ALSO! If anyone's read to this point! Here's an update on the chapter 3 of "Chaggie's Totally Legitimate Dating 101 Crash Course" :

The chapter is officially written and is being looked over by my beta's! I'm hoping to have it posted by Saturday or Sunday, so be on the look out for an update 😉 because it's happening very soon!