#or closer to work so i don't have such a long commute

[itstimeforstarwars]

Going to have to buy a pair of prescription sunglasses three months before I get a new prescription because I failed to remember how many migraines LED headlights give me.

[evansbby]

𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: stepdad!Ari Levinson x bratty!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: STEPCEST, daddy kink, dark!Ari, non-con, dub-con, age gap (reader is in college, Ari is in his forties), extremely fucked up Ari, delusional!Ari, spanking, ROUGH spanking, ass eating, ass fingering, he is literally very obsessed with her ass, swearing, misogyny, spitting, manhandling, dirty talk, condescending dirty talk, Ari also babies her A LOT, 18+, minors dni.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You stay out past curfew and your stepdad punishes you.

𝐀/𝐍: Final warning that this is extremely fucked up. Dead dove don't eat and all that. You've been warned. Enjoy.

“Where were you last night?”

Ari’s voice is loud, carrying across his study out into the hallway where you stop with a start. His door is slightly ajar, and you can see him through the crack. Sat behind his desk, his usual half-empty glass of scotch in hand.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, “Out?”

“Out where?”

“I don’t need to tell you that.”

You didn’t. It’s not like Ari was your dad, although he very much tried to act like he was. He was your stepfather; your mother had married him last year. And in that time, Ari had made it clear that he was always going to be in charge. And you wouldn’t have cared if he bossed your mother around, but it was you who his attention fell on most of the time.

You were in college, and it was close enough that you were able to stay at home and commute. Well, stay at Ari’s home, since that’s where your mother had moved the two of you. And you should have realised back then – a man as powerful as Ari Levinson would only ever play by his own rules, and make sure you did too.

“You have an eleven ‘o’ clock curfew. I didn’t see you tucked in at eleven ‘o’ clock. In fact, you weren’t home well past midnight.” He takes a sip of his scotch, looking ever the ruggedly handsome man that every single woman you knew went crazy over. Seriously. Your mom, her friends, your friends. It’s like you were the only one who saw through his act. There was just something about him…

This time you do roll your eyes, “Well firstly, I don’t need to be tucked in like I’m some little schoolgirl. And second, I’m allowed to stay out as long as I like. Mom never had a problem with that, she trusts me.”

Ari’s deep blue eyes regard your carefully, and he sets his glass down before using his finger to beckon you closer. “Come here.”

“What? No, I have to go.”

“You don’t have to go anywhere without my permission, sweetheart. Now I won’t repeat myself.”

There was an edge to his tone, one you knew all too well. Ari Levinson was a dangerous man, but then again weren’t all businessmen dangerous? It’s not like he’d played nice all his life to become the millionaire he was now. But he never shared his work with you or your mom. No, Ari was very rigid in his rules. Work was for the men, and women were to look after the home and mind their business.

He had other rules too. A curfew for you, no swearing, no wearing revealing clothes – and that was just scraping the surface. You’d complained to your mother countless times: “He’s not my father, he can’t make me do any of this!” But your mother was blindly in love with Ari, and wouldn’t listen to a single negative thing about him. “We live under his roof, sweetheart. He pays for everything and we should be so grateful. The least you could do is follow his rules, he only wants what’s best for you!” It was a shame he didn’t love your mother back. You couldn’t imagine a powerful man like Ari Levinson loving anything.

You swallow and step into his office, clutching your coat tighter around your body. It was best not to waste time arguing with him, and the sooner he said whatever he had to say, the sooner you could leave. You had another party to go to tonight, and no one – not even Ari Levinson – was going to stop you.

“Close the door behind you.” Ari orders, leaning back on his leather chair and undoing the top button of his shirt.

“Why?”

“Close it.”

You do. There’s something about the way Ari speaks, the way his tone is so commanding without him even trying to make it seem that way. It compels you to listen, and so you stand there in his office, in front of his desk while he just looks at you. His eyes leisurely trailing up and down your body, so dark as he sips his scotch again.

“Look, Ari, I’m going out whether you like it or not, and–”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

You almost sneer, “I’m not going to call you Dad.”

“Of course not. You’re too spoilt to address your elders with a bit of respect.” He leans forward, his eyes never leaving yours as he sets his scotch down and runs his hand through his unruly brown hair. It’s all glossy and rich, curling at the ends like he’s some kind of romantic movie hero. It was crazy how good looking he was, how charming he looked for someone who was so strict and stuck in his ways.

“You’re literally not my father.” You say, shifting from one heeled foot to the other. You’d had this argument with him almost daily for the past year.

“Oh yeah? Who else lets you live under their roof? Buys you whatever you want and gives you a monthly allowance on top of that?”

You sniff, “Never asked for any of that.”

A smile touches his rosy lips, but it’s a wolfish one. A predatory one. “And yet you have no problem spending my money, do you? On stupid, mindless things like that sorry excuse for a dress you’ve got on under that coat.”

You bite your lip, holding your coat tighter around your body. It was long, but the dress underneath was short. Sinfully short, skintight, red lace. What else were you supposed to wear to the club? Not that Ari had to know that that’s where you were going tonight – one of his rules was no clubs. But how did he know about your dress?

Ari chuckles, “I know all about your slutty little get up, sweetheart. Isn’t that why you had your bedroom door open earlier while you were changing into it?”

Your jaw drops, “You pervert, you–”

“Enough.” He raises his hand to silence you, and you hate that it works. Your heart’s drumming in your chest and you despise how much of an effect your stepfather has on you. How much he intimidates you, how much he scares you despite how hard you try to prove otherwise. “Come here.”

You swallow harshly, “I am here.”

“No. Come over here. Closer to daddy.”

You blanche. That was the thing about Ari. He didn’t even want you to call him Dad. No, he wanted you to call him daddy – like you were some stupid, helpless little girl.

Sometimes, he’d brush past you around the house, make sure to squeeze your hip or rest his hand on your back despite the fact that the hallways were big enough for about ten people. How he’d grab something for you from the top shelf, making sure to touch you in some way as he did it. And he’d whisper – sometimes even with your mother in the same room – “Daddy’s got it, sweetheart,” or, “let daddy help you, honey,” or “how’s daddy’s best girl today?”

And it horrified you that disgust wasn’t the only thing you felt when he said those things.

“I’m fine right where I am.” You hold your ground, trying not to shake or teeter in your sky-high heels. Your bare legs suddenly feel cold, your palms clammy.

Ari blinks, “come here or I’ll get up and drag you here myself. And we both know you don’t want that.”

You mull it over. Ari was a huge man. And huge was an understatement. You didn’t think men could be so big and imposing until you’d met him. He towered over everyone you knew, and he completely dwarfed you. Hell, even in your heels you’d be half the size of him. And he was also absolutely ripped. Shredded like he went to the gym regularly, and you knew he did because he had a gym at home, and he’d often walk around shirtless after a workout. All sweaty and tanned and glistening, and–

“I’m waiting.” His voice is clear and powerful, carrying across the study, ringing in your ears. You think over your limited options, wondering if you could possibly just make a break for it.

You’d tried running away from him only once before. During the early hours of the morning, when Ari had come to pick you up after a house party gone a bit too wild. You were still drunk, high, happy. And then he’d pulled up in his expensive car, a grim look on his face. You’d giggled and ran, but it only took him a few strides to catch up with you. He’d hoisted you over his shoulder like you were a sack of potatoes, like you weighed no more than a feather. And he’d thrown you in the back of his car and forbade you from ever going out again. Told you that if you did, he’d track you down and ground you for life. That there was no point in running, no point in hiding because he’d always track you down. Because he was your daddy and you were his little girl and he owned you.

That was when you’d realised just how insane Ari Levinson was. Insane with money and power and capable of anything with the world at his feet.

Heart beating madly in your ribcage, you take a deep breath and slowly walk over to him. Around his desk and right up in front of him. He turns his chair slightly, looking up at you from under those impossibly long lashes of his, his eyes flashing darkly as he takes you in. He grabs your hip and yanks you closer, and you stumble, almost falling on top of him before his strong arm steadies you, and you end up standing between his legs.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you feel a strange sensation at the compliment. Almost like a spark within you that you try your best to ignore. His hand is still on your hip, rubbing up and down through the mink of your coat. “Where’s your mommy tonight?”

“Asleep.”

“So you were going to sneak out.”

“It’s hardly sneaking out when you’re an adult in college who doesn’t need permission to go out and see her friends.” You can’t help but quip, although your attention is on his hand as it continues to rub your hip. Why was he doing that?

He acts like he hasn’t heard you, his eyes continuing to drink you in as he strokes your hip, “It’s not good to give your mommy and daddy so much grief, sweetheart. You should stay at home like a good little girl.”

Grief?! As if. You don’t think a man like Ari could ever feel anything as raw and humane as grief. Especially over something as normal as you, a college-aged woman, living her life.

You shrug, trying to act as casual as possible, “I like going out.”

“Mm,” in a flash, he yanks your coat off your body, the slinky fur sliding down till it falls by your feet. The action is so sudden, and yet Ari remains nonchalant, “You like dressing up like a slut too.”

“This is what all the girls are wearing.”

“But you’re my girl.” He toys with the lacy hem of your dress, a frown touching his handsome face at how short it is. Hell, the dress hardly covers your butt, and you’d class it more as lingerie than a going out dress, but that was none of his business. “I can’t have you going out like this, baby. Nobody’s allowed to see you like this.”

“What if they already have?”

The slap comes out of nowhere, sharp, unforgiving and loud, and your ass blooms with pain. You cry out, unable to believe he’s just spanked you.

“If you were stupid enough to give yourself to one of those idiot college boys you hang out with, trust me, I would know.” Ari says quietly. And it’s not a sneer, nor is there any contempt in his tone. Just cold, hard, nonchalance – which chills you down to the bone.

“Y-You’re crazy,” oh, but you hate the way your voice shakes as you say it!

“I’m just looking out for you, baby girl. That’s what daddies are for. Hell, even your mommy wants me to be your daddy.”

“That’s because she doesn’t know–”

“She wants me to be responsible for you, to discipline you, to take care of you how I see fit. How could you go against what your mommy wants?” His hand meanders lower, stroking your hip bone before gliding over your bare thigh, and then up again but this time under your dress. He cups your ass, and you can’t believe he’s got the balls to do it so casually. And it’s bare, because your lacy little G-string wasn’t covering anything, and you both knew that.

“Ari, you need to stop,” you swallow thickly, “y-you’re going too far this time, you–”

He yanks you into his lap, his motions so precise that you end up perched on his knee before you even know what’s happening. Your dress rides up, exposing your upper thighs and that’s exactly where his eyes zero in. Those intense, navy blue eyes that flash as his tongue swipes over his lips. And that’s when you feel it. Hard. Underneath you.

“This is where you belong,” he says softly. But not in a sweet way. Each word drips with menace. Quiet menace and a hanging threat. “On your daddy’s lap like a good little girl. God, baby girl, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hold you in my lap like this.” He bounces you up and down, watching as your breasts bounce in your tight red dress. “Every day I see you skipping around wearing next to nothing, and that fucking body…” He pauses, inhaling deeply as his arm secures around you even tighter, “…that peachy little ass on full display when you’d go out in your slutty little outfits no matter how much I forbade you from wearing them.”

“M-Mom’s upstairs,” you warn him, pressing your hands against his chest in a bid to get away from him except he’s too strong as he holds you rigidly in place. You can hardly believe what’s coming out of his mouth right now, but you don’t want to stick around to find out more, despite the fact that your thighs seem to be pressing together off their own accord. “Mom’s upstairs and she could come down any second, and–”

“She wants us to be together,” Ari smiles, and again it’s that wicked, menacing smile of his that’s more of a smirk than a smile. “She wants me to be your daddy, to take care of you. She knows how out of hand you’re getting; she knows you need a man like me to put you back in your place.”

“What?!”

“Mm, baby girl. And I let you act like a whore long enough. I was lenient, you see. I was enamoured by you, and so I let you do what you wanted. But now it’s time to put my foot down before you get too out of hand.”

“You’re insane!” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Firstly, lenient?! In what universe was Ari ever lenient with you? He’d always been strict and up your ass about his dumb rules and traditional values. No going out, no drinking, no smoking, no hanging out with boys, no wearing revealing clothes. If that was him being lenient, then you didn’t want to know what he was capable of now.

“There you go again, talking back to me. It’s clear your mommy didn’t teach you any manners.” Ari fingers the lacy strap of your dress, pushing it down your shoulder and inhaling the perfumed bare skin he’s exposed. You’d lathered yourself in fragranced lotion, one that left glitter all over your body, and it reflects in his eyes as they continue raking over you, looking everywhere as if it’s his right to.

And he’d never gone this far before! Sure, he’d brush against you and hold you and whisper things to you, but he’d always teetered along that line, never crossed it. Now he seemed close to it, hell-bent on doing it. There’s a fire in his eyes that you don’t recognise, a lust that burns so bright it makes you look away lest you catch it and start feeling it too.

“And you know exactly what you’re doing to your daddy,” he continues, brushing your hair off your shoulder to expose the nape of your neck, and his huge hand grabs your throat lightly, almost casually. “You left your door open tonight so I could watch you slip on this slutty lingerie you call a dress. And that fucking peachy baby ass of yours, in those tiny, slutty panties…” Again, he inhales sharply, and you feel him shift subtly underneath you, his boner digging into you from below.

You try to ignore the lump in your throat and the beginnings of a fire in the depths of your stomach. “Nobody asked you to look, Ari. You’re a fucking creep and I’m gonna tell Mom you were spying on me.”

He smiles again, like your threat means nothing to him. And why would it? You’re half his age and at his mercy, the clothes on your body bought with his money, as is the makeup on your face. The furniture in your room, all your college textbooks… Hell, he paid your college fees. You were bound to him. He knew he owned you.

“You just earned yourself five extra smacks, baby girl.”

“Five extra what?”

“And you wanted me to look, sweetheart. You always want me to look,” Ari licks his lips, that predatory glint in his eye increasing tenfold. And he casually tweaks your nipple which is poking stiffly out from under the thin lace of your dress. You convulse, and he grins wolfishly, “That’s why you act like an attention-seeking whore, wear slutty clothes and prance around like you own the place. You’re crying out to be put back in your place, you need it.”

“All I need is for you to back off.” You stick your chin up, trying to be brave. But the older man only looks amused, and he strokes your hard nipple with just his thumb, the action sending sparks down to your core that you try your best to ignore.

“God, you’re fucking adorable,” he almost groans it, and his other hand tightens on your hip, grinding you down on his erection while you sit there frozen, “I can’t wait to fuck you in mine and mommy’s bed…”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” His salacious words act like a bucket of icy cold water, shocking you out of your trance. God, he was truly insane! You try to jump off of him, but his grip tightens around your stomach, pinning you down on him as you struggle.

“She won’t mind,” he whispers, licking the shell of your ear and sending electric currents down your body, “she wants us to bond, sweetheart. And I can’t think of a better daddy and baby girl bonding activity–”

“YOU’RE SICK!”

It’s when you really start struggling, when you bat and punch at his chest that he finally frowns. Not that it hurts him, but he doesn’t like the disrespect. That’s when he pushes down on your back, easily manoeuvring your body till he’s got you slung over his knee, your lacy dress riding up and your ass poking up into his face.

“You’re such a brat,” Ari’s lets his hand rest squarely on your ass, stroking it from on top of the red lace. You feel hot all over, heart beating out of your chest as you try to wrap your head around what exactly is happening right now. “But that’s okay, isn’t it sweetheart? One night with your daddy will set you straight. Then you’ll be the good little girl your mommy and I want you to be.”

“Let me go! Don’t you dare touch me, don’t you– OW!”

Ari’s huge hand cracks down on your ass like lightning, and your cry of pain echoes around his study, bouncing off the walls and ricocheting back into your ringing ears. Pain blooms across your backside, tears welling in your eyes – he’d hit you so hard.

“I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that you were craving a good spanking,” Ari runs his hand over your ass, stroking the sizzling skin that’s still covered by the flimsy lace of your dress, “that you needed it, and you wanted me to give it to you.” Easily, he pushes the lace up, bunching your dress around your waist. He fingers your G-string, snapping it against your skin and making you cry out again, “You’re such a little slut…”

He rips your panties off, and you hear him inhale sharply, and you know he’s smelling them. And then his hand cracks down on your ass again, and again you cry out in pain because it’s your bare ass and it hurts, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“I watched you stumble into the house last night, well past your curfew,” he speaks so casually, despite his hand raining unforgiving spanks on your ass, “looking like a slutty, drunk little mess, your dress up and that cute bubble butt of yours poking out like you were trying to tease me. God, I wanted to take you over my knee then and there. But I knew you had to be sober for this. It’s the only way you’d learn.”

“Please, stop, it hurts, it–”

“And to think you were going to go out again, break my rules again,” he sneers, giving you a particularly hard smack that has you reeling, the tears streaking down your cheeks. “Stupid little girl, don’t you get it? I give you everything, every material fucking thing in the world you could ask for. And all I ask in return is for you to be a good little girl, a respectful little girl who stays at home and listens to her daddy. Is that so fucking hard?”

All you do is sob, and he yanks your hair, “I said, is that so fucking hard?”

“No!” You cry, wiggling around on his lap in a bid to get away from the unforgiving wrath of his palm, your mind quickly slipping into delirium, to that place where you’ll say anything just to get him to stop. “No, it’s not hard, okay?! PLEASE STOP!”

“No more going out,” smack after smack rains down on your ass, and the skin feels like it’s breaking, like it’s on fire, and he just grows harder, more excited underneath you. “No, baby girl. From now on, you’ll be good, won’t you? You’ll stay at home with me, let me take care of you.”

“Okay, fine! Just stop, just–”

“And daddy’s gonna take such good care of you,” he croons softly, and yet he sounds so fucking evil, “Daddy’s gonna feed you, change you, bathe you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? So much more than your goddamned parties.”

A strangled sound leaves your throat, white hot pain radiating off your poor ass as he manhandles you, spanking you like you’re some goddamned child being chastised. And you were a grown woman! A grown woman with a sick in the head stepfather who was hellbent on inflicting his torturous, fucked up discipline.

“Say it. Say you want daddy to bathe you. Say you’d like that, because you’re too much of a dumb baby to do it yourself,” he orders, sick pleasure in his tone at his own words. And he gives you the hardest slap yet, like a threat of what’s to come if you didn’t answer how he wanted you to.

“Fine, okay?!” Your voice is shrill with fear, “I-I want you to…” your face screws up, hotness prickling your cheeks, “I want you to bathe me, take care of me...”

SMACK.

“Address me properly.”

“I WANT YOU TO BATHE ME, DADDY!” Shame erupts inside you, but so does relief when the spank you’re expecting never comes, and his hand rests on the curve of your ass instead.

“Of course you do, my helpless little girl.” He croons, switching from menacing to faux-sweet with the drop of a hat. “I always knew you needed me. You made it so obvious.”

“C-Can you please just stop now?” You hang your head, the energy depleting from your body, and all you can focus on is the pain in your ass. That, and the way his boner is poking dangerously close to your core. And you feel this strange urge to hump downwards, but you push it away as soon as it flits your mind.

“You have such a pretty ass, baby,” he ignores you, stroking your ass with that large, warm hand of his. “Sure, daddy just did a number on it, but that’s okay. A cute bubble butt like yours was made to be ruined, wasn’t it? Say it. Say it exactly how I just said it.”

You sniffle, ass on fire and thoughts disorientated enough that you obey without a single protest, “My… My cute bubble butt was made to be ruined.”

You expect him to let you go then, to laugh at you for being reduced to a sniffling mess. To taunt you because you and him both know your mother wouldn’t believe you if you told her what had just happened. He was perfect in her eyes, a knight in shining armour and that was all she ever wanted to see him as. Not the devil incarnate who’d spanked your ass raw for coming home later than the curfew he’d set for you.

Instead, you hear him inhale deeply, squeezing and fondling your ass cheeks, groping them to his heart’s desire, jiggling each cheek like it’s a toy made for his pleasure. And you almost lose yourself to the sensation, because why do you feel that need again? That need to grind down on his knee?

But then his hand moves lower, and his hand cups your cunt before you even realise that he’s crossed that line completely. That line a stepfather should never cross.

“Ari, n-no, don’t…” but why does your voice not even convince your own self?

“I’ll do what I please,” he says calmly, as if he’s conversing with you normally over a pot of coffee in the morning, as if he doesn’t have his big, warm hand cupping your bare pussy. “I own you, it’s only right that I show you what pleasure is. I’m sure you’ve never felt it before, not with those boys you hang around. And you took your punishment well, sweetheart. Daddy’s so proud of you, and I’m not all bad, you know.”

Before you can say another word, his strong arms lift you up and manhandle you till you’re bent over his oak desk, your ass poking up and at his mercy yet again as he stands up to his full height behind you. You yelp when he gives your ass another hard slap, as if he can’t help it.

“You’ve made a mess all over my pants, baby girl,” he pulls your hair, making you look back. And that’s when you see the dark wet spot on his pants. Oh no, no, no. That couldn’t have been you, could it?

And yet, yet you can feel that tell-tale wetness now trailing down your thighs. Were you… leaking? Is that how turned on you were right now? Despite the disgust you feel? And the contempt and hatred too?

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Ari puts on that faux-sweet voice again, and yet he still sounds menacing, predatory as he grips your ass cheeks so hard they hurt. “I know baby girls like you can’t help but have an accident every now and then. It’s a good thing daddy’s here to clean you up.”

Before you can even attempt to decipher what’s happening next, he grabs your hips and hoists your ass up even higher. Then he spreads your ass cheeks apart and your eyes almost bug out of your head when you feel his tongue, stiff and wet, like a stripe up your asshole.

“Oh, oh fuck!” You can’t help but moan. No one had ever, ever even touched you up there. Let alone lick you there, and oh god! Oh god, it felt so insane. Your cunt throbs at the feel of his wet tongue up there. Your stepfather was eating your ass.

“Taste so fucking sweet,” he murmurs, fingers pressing into the soft skin of your butt cheeks as he spreads them even further apart. He spits down on your puckered hole, making you tense up in anticipation. “I’ve been dreaming of eating your sexy little ass since the moment I saw you.”

“This is wrong…” and yet your words sound so faint, so far away. What feels close is his tongue, big and flat as he laps at your hole like a starved man. And you don’t know what possesses you but you know you have to start rocking your hips back into his face, and that’s when you feel him smirk against you.

“I knew you’d come around, baby girl. I knew you’d get off on me eating you back here. I bet none of your little boyfriends ever did this for you, huh?”

“N-No, oh-oh gosh, I-I–”

 He cups your cunt again, this time gathering your wetness and bringing it up to your asshole. And fuck, his finger makes you twitch as he rubs your wetness into your puckered hole before lapping it up with his tongue. And the whole time, obscene noises fill up his study, and your mother sleeps soundly upstairs while her husband violates your asshole and both of you are moaning now.

“Fucking sexy baby ass,” Ari mutters, practically tongue-fucking your hole like he hasn’t had a meal in days. And his stiff, wet tongue forces its way into your tight hole and you wail because it feels like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Now you’re grinding back into his face in earnest, and your poor, neglected cunt is dripping juices down on his desk, and–

Ari slaps your ass hard, the sound ringing across the room, and his beard scrapes against your hole, and it feels so sinfully good that you want to cry. How did it get to this? You hate him. You despise him. And yet…

It’s when he forces his thick pointer finger into your poor asshole that you scream in earnest, and all it earns you is another slap to your butt. And this itself makes your pussy clench, like your body is growing accustomed to his rough ways. Like your body is accepting his rough ways, liking his rough ways.

“D-Daddy,” you whimper voluntarily, because your body is betraying you and now so is your voice, “daddy please. Need to, n-need to…”

“Say it.” Ari’s voice drips with power and authority, “Say what you need.”

“Need to – nngh! – need to cum!”

He smirks, “No one’s stopping you, baby girl. No one’s stopping you from getting off on your stepdaddy eating your tight, sexy ass.”

He pushes you down on his desk, till your stomach is flat against the hard oak. With your ass pinned down against the hard surface, he spreads your cheeks again – as far as they’d go. With renewed vigour, he starts licking up your ass again. And you twitch against his harsh tongue, which probes and licks you like you’re nothing more than his meal. And you gasp and whine and moan like a whore, thrusting back against him, needing to cum, just needing to cum and nothing else.

You squirt hard when he bites down on your ass cheek, bites down on it like a man possessed, like a man hell-bent on marking you as his property. And you’re sure he’s left a mark, you’re sure he’s drawn blood, and he fingers your tight asshole the whole time, milking your orgasm as your untouched cunt convulses and waves of shocking pleasure radiate through your body.

“That’s right, baby girl,” Ari licks at the spot where he’s bit you, sucking at the poor, broken skin to make the bruise even more prominent. “My special little girl, finally giving yourself to daddy. I’m so proud of you, baby. Fuck, so proud of my little girl.”

 You’re half lost in your delirium but you snap out of it when you feel something wet and hot splash on your ass. Spurts of it, coating your sore and bruised ass. His cum. You hadn’t even realised he was jacking off. Your stepdad, jacking off and dropping his load all over your sizzling ass after he’d just spanked you and ate you out back there.

Fuck.

“Next time, I’m finishing inside you,” Ari has the audacity to chuckle, despite the air feeling heavy around you as you come down from your high and collapse on his desk, all energy sapped out of your body.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a pitiful whimper. You feel a bunch of sensations, but you feel another spark of thrill when his finger swipes over your ass. And then he brings it to your lips, his finger coated with his cum that he’s gathered, and presses it into your mouth.

You don’t have the energy to fight him, and so you suck on his finger, like a good little girl you lap up his cum, swallow it while he smiles at you approvingly, and pats your head like you’re his little pet. Ruined and collapsed on his desk, your panties in his pocket and your poor dress hiked high around your waist. Completely at his mercy.

“I’ll run you a bath,” he says, picking you up and gathering you in his arms. You’re limp, too weak to argue. To fucked out to really register what’s just happened. “See, doesn’t it feel good to be taken care of by your daddy? All that partying isn’t good for you. Only daddy knows what’s good for you. But don’t worry. You’ll learn. Soon.”

A/N: THE END! OKAY WHAT DO WE THINK??? AHHHH this Ari is sooo fucked up omfg. But I'm kinda nervous posting this bc I haven't posted a full length fic in a while??? and idk... this just came to me. BUT WHAT DO WE THINK? Please, please do let me know! Feedback/comments/reblogs would mean the world to me! I JUST WANNA KNOW WHAT YALL THINK??? FAV PART??? ANYTHINGSS anyways byeee love u <3

[rueclfer]

everything is embarrassing // izuku midoriya

when he doesn't know how to take control of his life

a/n: 6k+ words lmao i feel crazzzzzy ok bye

19-year-old izuku doesn't have the privilege of hopping around college parties on the weekends or enjoy the “college experience” like his friends do.

he can barely catch a break to breathe.

monday through friday he's in classes from 8:00am to 4:00pm, and for more than half of the week from 6:00pm to 12:00am, he's working at the campus library- simultaneously shelving returns, organizing files, and scrambling to finish his homework. on the weekends, he'll be at his part time job at the local cafe just down the street from his dorm building.

it hasn't been an easy semester for izuku. he's a year behind his friends and he wants nothing more than to be able to walk across that stage with them by the end of their fourth year, but nothing comes easy when you’ve been out of school for a year, no money, have a scholarship on the line, and a single mother at home to make proud.

he's watching the time go by. his eyes darting back and forth between the ticking needle on the analog clock and you sitting at your usual table with your headphones on, attention glued to your textbook, and the tapping of your pencil growing louder by the second.

occasionally, he'd let himself clock out and lock up about 5-10 minutes early if there was no one lingering around on his floor, and all of the day's work had been completed. no one stays as late in the library as you do. it annoys him. 

5-10 minutes is crucial to izuku.

he could get a head-start on his commute back to his dorm. if he walks quickly enough, he'd be back before 12:15am, be ready for bed by 12:35am, and he'd be able to get at least 6 hours of sleep.

if he's lucky.

but you. you were always there until the very last minute- sometimes even past closing.

it's 12:05am. how could anyone be so careless to not keep an eye on the time? can’t you see that it’s only you two left on this floor? did you not hear the 10 minute closing warning on the intercom?

if he wasn't running on a couple hour of sleep, a poor excuse for dinner, and 6 hours worth of brain numbing work, he wouldn't have the nerves to approach you so casually. he'd be replaying what he wanted to say in his head, stumbling over his words, and hope you wouldn't take offense to it.

"the library's closed." he bluntly says, still maintaining a few feet of distance.

you don't hear him or notice his presence at all. you're lost in that textbook and your mind is fumbling through these terms and definitions staring back at you.

izuku blinks once. then twice.

"hey." he starts again, taking a step closer and setting a hand down on the table right above your textbook.

you look up and catch the library worker’s tired eyes. your gaze immediately flickers to the analog clock hung on the wall past his shoulder.

12:12am

“oh shit!” you exclaim, ripping off your headphones. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i lost track of time.”

you slam your textbook shut, rubbing your eyes against the back of your hand. how long had you been at it like this? studying the hours away in your own corner of the library?

“yeah.” izuku breathily chuckles, a sense of relief washing over him as he watches you haphazardly shove your books and papers in your bag. “sorry, i hate to interrupt a good study session, but i’m kinda tired, and if i stay here for another minute, the shelves might start talking to me.”

“god, don’t be sorry. i get it.” you laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “i’m here, like, everyday. i’m sure everyone who works here is sick of me by now.”.

“yeah, me too.” he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as you two make your way towards the exit. “here everyday, that is.” he quips, nervously running a hand through his tousled hair.

“look at us, so scholarly.” your voice dripping in sarcasm. you turn your head over your shoulder to meet his eye. “paying so much money for this university to drain us of all joy in life.”

“well, i’m on a scholarship.” izuku mutters. “so i guess i still have some joy left?

“yeah? well that’s actually even worse.” 

“is it?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“you have much more to lose.”

-

the next time you two see each other, he’s knelt over an open filing cabinet, digging through dividers for some sort of paperwork. 

since that night you’ve met, university life has felt a bit less lonely- something about taking a 20 minute walk to your dorm buildings, which happens to be right next to each other, complaining about how terrible of time you’re having adjusting to university life really brings people together.

“hey.” you cough.

izuku looks up to see you sporting a coffee cup in each hand.

“oh. it’s you. hey.”

you hold one out to him, waiting for him to take it, but all he does is give you a blank stare as his eyes flicker between your own and the cup outreached towards him.

“take it.” you chuckle. “i brought it for you. you looked like shit last time i saw you, so...”

the corners of his mouth quirks up into a smile, gingerly accepting the hot cup of coffee.

“...so this is your apology for staying past closing the other night?” he teases.

“oh definitely not.” you scoff. “i’ll be doing it again tonight too, don’t you worry.”

he nods his head, taking a deep swig of the bittersweet coffee. “see you at midnight, then.”

“see you at midnight.” you confirm, sending him a smile as you pull your headphones over your ear and head towards the back of the library where your designated table was waiting for you.

-

at 21-years-old, izuku goes to his first house party. it takes you about a week to convince him to give you one of his saturday nights that he’d usually reserve for studying or catching up on sleep.

“please.” you beg once more. “what are you going to say to your future students? how are you going to say you had the college experience without going to a single party?”

“with a degree?” he chuckles, slinging a rag over his shoulder. “you’re also distracting me. i’m on the clock, and my boss can come back anytime, you know.”

“oh, please.” you roll your eyes. “if toshinori was here, he’d be telling you to put your big boy pants on and get drunk with his favorite customer tonight. and if you agreed the first time i asked, i wouldn’t have to follow you to your second place of employment.”

“i’m sorry, i can’t. maybe next time?”

“please, izuku, just one party. i’ll help you get ready after your shift. we’ll leave anytime you want, but i can guarantee you’ll have so much fun. i promise i’ll never ask you again if you really do end up hating it.”

he can imagine it now- if someone asked him about his college experience, he wouldn’t mention the parties, the professors, or the time spent away from home. he’d talk about you.

izuku has a hard time balancing his life between keeping up with the workload and trying to not let his days blend into a muddy gray, but you had perfectly fit somewhere in between all of the chaos like a fresh breath of air.

izuku was tired, and you were a shot of espresso. how can he say no to you?

“fine.” he sighs in defeat, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards you. “but i can’t be out that late, okay? i have to be back here in the morning.”

-

“what the fuck happened?” you slam the door shut behind you, muffling out chatter of the crowd and heavy bass shaking through the walls. 

you twist a wad of toilet paper into a cone before plugging the stream of blood gushing from his nose.

“sorry, sorry, sorry!” he repeats, holding the toilet paper in place with a bewildered look in his eyes. 

“i don’t know what happened,” he starts in a nasally tone “maybe it’s all the smoke in the air or something. i heard that second hand smoke can be really drying for your nasal passages, especially if there’s not a lot of ventilation like in this apartment, i also haven’t been drinking a lot of water today and-”

“aht!” you interrupt, nudging him over with your elbow to rinse your hands off from the bloody residue. “my theory is that your body is shutting down on itself from the lack of proper sleep and nutrition. thoughts?”

izuku pouts. “stop it. i had a protein shake before we came, remember?”

“of course, how could i forget about the most rancid concoction you managed to blend together?” you mutter, wetting a wad of toilet paper and dabbing away the dried blood that had fallen onto his chin and t-shirt.

he cocks an eyebrow at you, holding up the red solo cup containing a questionable blue liquid that you shoved in his hands to hold when his nose started dripping blood. 

“wow, since when were you a chem major? since you know so much about ‘rancid concoctions,’ huh?” he deadpans.

“izuku midoriya, are you getting sassy with me?” you scoff, grabbing the cup back from his hands.

“maybe i am.” he presses his lips together to suppress a smirk. “or maybe i’m just making an observation.”

izuku had finally started learning how to bite back. somewhere within the last year, the skittish library worker who you enjoyed pestering had grown the confidence to return your relentless teasing.

you weren’t sure how to take it- how giddy it made you feel and how much more of it you wanted to draw out of him.

to him, it was all a front. he perfected the line delivery with ease, but at the cost of his chest tightening and stomach turning over the sight of your amused smile and lit up eyes. this made him anxious.

you have much more to lose

everytime he sees you, he’s reminded of your very first conversation together when you were first years. he’s acutely aware of how much he has to lose, but if there’s one thing izuku could not bear to risk losing during the worst few years of his life, it was you.

“uh, why are you looking at me like that?” he nervously chuckles, his ears growing hot from trailing your eyes as they glaze over his face.

“i love you.” you smile, the alcohol finally making its way to your head. “a lot.”

izuku’s breathing stops for a moment. his eyes widen, and the nervous giggles continue pouring out as his facade from minutes earlier crumbles completely.

“why are you laughing?” you chuckle, taking a sip from your cup, choking back a grimace.

“i…i don’t know.” he bites his bottom lip, suddenly aware of his nervous habit. “you’re just being a silly drunk right now."

“what? because i said i love you?” you cock your head with a lazy smile “the L-word got your panties in a twist?”

“don’t know what you mean.” he turns his attention back to the mirror, subtly swiping his sweaty palms on his thighs before unplugging the tissue from his nose. 

for the first time in his life, he’s simultaneously grateful and regretful for alcohol. grateful for the red sheen over his face to mask his blush. regretful for the carelessness it caused you with your words. 

he doesn’t have the time or energy to entertain it. that is the one thing he’s certain of. he wouldn’t be good for you- wouldn’t give you the time and attention you deserved. he loves you too. he loves you enough to not say it back.

“it stopped bleeding. i think i’ll have to leave soon, so let’s get back out there, yeah? i’ll make you a better drink, too.”

he shoots you a forced grin before grabbing you by the shoulders and ushering you two back to the party where you reunite with your roommates and mutual friends. you leave your drink in the bathroom.

-

on the day izuku turns 22-years-old, he finds out that he’s on track to graduate with you and his friends. after stepping out for a quick phone call with his academic advisor, he drunkenly cries into your shoulder mid-birthday party (that his boss at the cafe forced him to take the time off to have).

all of the hard work and courses he packed on during his first two years at university finally paid off. though, that doesn't mean he’s gotten any easier on himself.

he quits his job at the library and starts student teaching part time at the local middle school for college credit.

you barely see him now-a-days. more often than not, your texts go unanswered.

izuku is a busy guy.

you miss him. you didn't realize how lonely it felt to walk back to your dorm from the library at midnight by yourself- you haven't felt this way for a while, not since you met izuku. 

you wished he made it easier for you. your feelings for him never subsides, but instead grows into a longing ache. it’ll be like this until graduation. the occasional text message, running into each other in the halls with quick hello and goodbye, coming into his weekend job just to see him for a few reassuring moments- you know you both needed it.

he talks about you to his students a lot- “my best friend,” “someone important to me,” “my support system,” and etc. he’s always referring to you.

he missed seeing you all the time, but it’s all been so hectic for him he hates to admit that you barely cross his mind when he’s in the midst of a busy day. on top of his regular grueling school work, he has to lesson-plan for the days he’s teaching, grade papers, as well as check in with his professors and mentors.

he doesn’t know how he does it.

working in that library was excruciating, but he missed nothing more than the last half hour of his shifts where it’d just be you two, sending shy glances at one another until it hit midnight. he doesn’t even mind the rest of the 6 hour shift where you’re just sitting in the same spot that you always gravitate towards, head in the textbook for him to look up at every now and then.

you tell him you love him for the second time at the end of your graduation party when all of the guests have cleared out of your half empty apartment.

“what?” his eyes go wide, exactly like they did a year ago.

“i love you, izuku.” you ball the sides of your graduation gown, wrinkling the fabric in your hands.

you’re sober this time, which makes it infinitely more painful to say out loud.

his mouth gapes open as if he’s a fish gasping for water. he doesn’t know what to say.

“i have for years.” you fill in the silence, fidgeting with the silky material. “ever since you kicked me out of that fucking library, i think. i don’t know. maybe i’m being stupid, but i can’t help it. i love you, and i need you to know before… you know.”

it’s been three years, and you’ve waited until this night to pour it all out because you knew that in less than 24 hours, you’d be going your separate ways.

in a perfect situation, izuku would tell you that he feels the same. he’d run through an airport to stop you from leaving and beg you to stay with him. you wouldn’t have to go back home. you’d share an apartment. live in the city. start your entry jobs. you’d have time together.

“i’m sorry.” is all he says. “i’m sorry.” he repeats.

tears well in his eyes, and he grabs you by the shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“sheesh, you’re such a crybaby.” you choke out a half chuckle, your eyes running hot now. “don’t be sorry, okay? i get it. i know.”

your arms tightly wrap around izuku’s waist as you two silently sob into one another. his hand runs through your hair, stopping at the nape of your neck to pull you closer.

there’s something much more painful behind this confession to cry about. you’re leaving the city, and you have no reason to stay. for the first time in three years, izuku won’t be within arm’s reach and you’re left with the cold reality of navigating your future without your best friend by your side.

“you know, i..” he begins, pulling you back to look at your face, searching for the right words, or an answer. “it’s not that i don’t feel the same, okay?” 

his cheeks lightly dust over pink. it’s the first time he’s admitted that out loud.

“i know.” you sadly smile, your hand reaching up to wipe away the stray tears left on his cheeks. “we’ll be okay. we worked hard for this, izuku.”

izuku felt like throwing up. he had spent the last three years working himself into the ground with endless all-nighters, black coffees, and missed events to get everything he’s ever wanted for his future, so why does it feel like his world is slipping from between his fingers?

yes, he worked hard, but he wondered if it was all enough?

“i’m going to miss you.” he mutters, connecting your foreheads together. “i already do. you’re everything to me.”

“me more. i’ll miss you more.”

after that night, you don’t see izuku again for a long time. 

izuku jumps into his new position at the local high school in the same school district as the middle school he worked at during his last year of university. he feels a sense of relief everytime he walks into his school building- something that he couldn’t ever say during his years as a student.

you move back home and land an entry job at a startup tech company. it’s boring work, but at least it’s remote and your days don’t mesh into one- you made sure you would never have to go through that again.

you try to stay connected, but work is busy, and you’re both trying to figure out what life is supposed to look like post-grad. occasionally, you’ll send each other a meaningless “thinking of you” message, but you eventually lose contact after a couple of years of trying to plan visits and meet ups- there is just no time. there never was.

-

at 27-years-old, izuku is spending his late afternoon sitting in his empty classroom with one of his students. it’s half an hour past their scheduled parent-teacher conference time, and he’s wondering if he should just reschedule.

“are you sure your mom is coming? did you tell her the right time and date?” izuku sighs, resting his head on a propped elbow.

“duh. what kind of student do you think i am?” they scoff, glancing up at him from their phone.

“judging by your grades, i know exactly the kind of student you are.” he mumbles.

izuku’s trying to not panic, the kid clearly isn’t, but he’s wondering how far back this sets his schedule. he should be starting on the stack of papers to grade by now. he still needs to write out a lesson plan for tomorrow. maybe the kids deserve a movie day? maybe he deserves a movie day.

“don’t freak out.” izuku hears from outside of his door “you’re fine. it’s okay. seriously, chill the fuck out you weren’t interrupting anything, i needed a break anyways. i’m walking in right now. yeah, i’ll let you know how it goes.”

finally.

izuku straightens up, and tightens his tie. he whips open his laptop and pulls up the tabs of grades and assignments to discuss.

“i’m so sorry-” the voice falters at the end as it enters the classroom.

“don’t be, i was just-” izuku glances up from his screen and his throat suddenly closes shut.

5 years later, and the universe leads you back to one another. here. in his classroom.

“izuku midoriya?” you cough out.

for the first time in his life, he doesn’t like the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth. it’s hesitant. it sounds foreign. it makes him question himself for a moment. 

yes? that’s me, right? it’s me, izuku. your izuku.

“what are…uh.. you…here?” he stammers, unable to get the words out.

you take a step forward into the classroom. you could pass out at the sight of him. he still seemed as boyish as ever. maybe a bit broader, and taller, but his hair is still just as wild as it was in university. you can’t help but feel a twinge of insecurity as you wonder if you looked any different as well.

“uh…where’s mom?” your nephew glances back and forth between you two starstrucked at the sight of one another. “we have to look over my grades and stuff, you know.”

“right!” you exclaim. “your mom got caught up at work, so she asked me to come in.” you awkwardly shift in your position, your eyes never leaving izuku’s.

izuku’s face flares up in heat, snapping back into the present as his eyes flicker back towards his student.

“you know what? let’s reschedule that. you can go and i’ll see you tomorrow?” he quickly stands up, knocking over his chair and hitting his knee against his desk in the process.

“really?” they cock an eyebrow at the shift in behavior from the two adults in the room.

“yup! we’re running late and i have a meeting right now, so i’ll just email your mom to reschedule.” he forces a reassuring grin, making his way around his desk. “don’t forget to read over the syllabus to see what’s due, alright?”

“alright, i guess. see you tomorrow then, sensei” they shoot you a questioning side glance as they sling their backpack over their shoulder. “are you taking me home?”

“no.” you say, almost a bit too quickly. “uh, i have some errands to run before your mom gets back home, so you go on ahead i’ll see you at home.”

once your nephew leaves, unsuspecting of the thick line of tension running between his aunt and teacher, izuku quickly rushes over and shuts his door.

“whatareyoudoinghere?” the sentence leaves his mouth in an incoherent string of words. he grabs you by the shoulders and lets his eyes take in your face. every curve, every mark, every wrinkle, old and new.

you feel 19 again. you guess the urge to kiss izuku midoroya never leaves you, after all. 

“my sister just got a new job, so i’m living with her and helping her out with the kids while she adjusts.” you breathlessly stare at him. “i didn’t know you were still in the city.”

of course he’s still here- exactly where you left him after all these years. his grip on your shoulders tightens as a response. he’s scared that if he lets go, you’ll be gone for good, or at least for another 5 years.

“we should catch up.” you smile, grabbing onto his forearms as a warmth crawls up your next “when are you free? i mean, you’re probably really busy, but even a phone call-”

“tonight? how about tonight?” he blurts out. “we can go somewhere?”

izuku reassures himself that it’s fine. the kids can have a movie day, and he’ll spend that time grading papers and catching up on work. the only thing he needs is right in front of him.

seeing your face light up makes him feel nothing but nostalgic euphoria. he never wants to lose this feeling again.

“i’ll text you, then? you still have my number?”

he almost laughs in your face. your text conversation has been pinned to the top since the day you exchanged phone numbers.

“by heart.”

-

“tech? like you work in IT?” izuku’s face scrunches in disgust. he almost spits his drink out. “why the hell would you do that to yourself?”

“shut up!” you rub your face in your hands, snorting out a laugh. “it’s easy, i’m in a senior position, it pays well, and it’s remote. that’s all i care about for now.”

you two meet at a nearby bar. outside of his suit and tie, he looked much younger. he looks like the izuku you knew half a decade ago with his perpetual pink cheeks, slightly too large graphic tee, and red sneakers.

“so you’re now living with your sister… in the city.” he begins, looking into your eyes with a hopeful gleam. “for how long?”

“i’m not sure.” you shrug. “i’m still figuring it out, but my lease back home is up at the end of next month, so either way, i have to see what i want to do by then.”

“you should stay in the city.” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could process them.

“i mean- it’s just, you know, your sister is here, and her kids, and there’s more opportunities and stuff, and your work is remote anyways, and uh-” he stammers, words flowing out in an unstoppable stream.

“-and you’re here?” you tease.

his face flushes red.

“it is a possibility.” you sigh, shooting him a subtle smirk and saving him the embarrassment of coming up with a response. “i don’t know though. my sister wants me to stay too, but it’s a lot to think about.”

“i get it. my mom moved to the city to be near. it was hard for her.” he takes a sip of his drink. “not with me, though! she’s got a townhouse in the outskirts.” he quips.

you laugh. he definitely hasn't changed.

“speaking of, do you want to come back to my apartment? right now?” he shyly asks, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

“right now?” you look down and check the time displayed on your phone.

11:00pm.

“it’s a school night isn’t it?” you cock your head to the side. "i'm surprised you even wanted to meet up this late. thought i'd have to book office hours with you weeks in advance to catch up." you tease

izuku mentally curses at himself for being so forgetful, and so predictable. he doesn’t want this night with you to end, but that 7:00am alarm set for tomorrow morning is inching closer and closer.

“you’re right.” his confidence deflates. “i guess we should get going.”

you two pay your tab and make your way to the exit. you stand facing each other at the corner of the street, taking in each other’s presence once more.

there’s a faint buzzing in your ear from the lamppost hanging above you and your breaths come out in shallow puffs. you don’t know why you’re so nervous all of the sudden. you wish you didn’t have to leave again.

“so, can we do this again? can i see you again?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“you think i’d get to see izuku midoriya from beyond the grave and let you get away? for the second time?”

he feels like he could cry right now, so he pulls you in for a hug instead. you haven’t changed at all- not in the ways that matter anyways. his hand falls against the nape of your neck as he presses his cheek against your forehead.

“i missed you.” he mutters into your hair.

“me more.”

before you go your separate ways, i love you sits at the tip of his tongue. he wants to tell you. to finally say back after all of these years, but it somehow doesn’t feel right- not yet at least.

-

a few weeks later, you find yourself sitting in one of izuku’s classroom desks. the top button of his shirt is undone, his sleeves rolled up, and the soft late afternoon sunlight streaming through his window bathes him in gold.

from over your laptop screen, you see izuku mumbling to himself as he reads through essays while twirling a red pen between his fingers. the look of concentration had been plastered to his face since you were students- dark furrowed brows, unblinking eyes, a twinge of anxiety, and tightly pressed lips.

“you’re staring.” he mutters in between his incoherent mumbles.

his eyes snap up to meet yours.

“no i’m not.” you shrug, suppressing a satisfied smile as your eyes return to your own screen.

“I think i’ve gotten pretty good at noticing after spending all those years with you in that library.” he returns the smile, leaning back in his seat. “you don’t stare often, but when you do, you stare loud.”

“says you.” you roll your eyes. “you don’t think i ever noticed the thousand glances every hour?”

his face scrunches in embarrassment. 

“not like i could help myself.” he mutters, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. 

“ditto.” you halfway close your laptop and rest your head on a propped elbow. “but you knew that.”

the air in the room thickens between you two. you’ve been itching to have a conversation with izuku about your last moments before you left the city 5 years ago, but there hasn’t been a good time to bring it up. you weren’t even sure if you should at all.

“i don’t think i ever noticed.”

“noticed what?”

“that you liked me.” he pressed his lips together, nervous to bring up the past. “like that at least. i didn’t have a clue before you took me to that party.”

“how could you?” you breathe out a chuckle. “you were drowning in your work and studies, there was no time to even sleep let alone have anything romantic.”

a beat of silence passes.

“sorry.” he mutters.

“don’t be.” you shrug. "i loved you enough for the both of us. you were my best friend, and i wouldn’t change anything. maybe i would’ve forced you to take more naps, though.” you chuckle.

he doesn’t like the past tense termage of this conversation. it makes him feel a bit nauseous thinking that he really did lose it all, even with you here in front of him.

“i told you i felt the same, didn’t i?”

“mmm.. i guess so.” you mutter. “but it’s different. it was a goodbye.”

“i’m sorry.” he says again, with a pout this time.

“stop that.” you launch your pen in his direction, bouncing off of the chalk board behind him. “i’m here now. you’re here. you’re still my best friend. everything’s the same, except we’re a little bit older and have 5 years to catch up on. isn’t that enough?”

you two danced around the conversation for a few more minutes before returning to your work in silence. there was no clear answer as to where your feelings for each other stand now, but he feels just as sick as he did the day of the grad party.

but isn’t that enough? to just have you here now?

on a saturday night in his apartment, just days before you have to go home and sort out your living situation, izuku tells you he loves you for the first time.

you’re staring at him, unsure if maybe you heard him wrong or if it was the television in the background.

“huh?” your mouth gapes open. “what’d you say?”

“i..i love you.” his voice shakes as the words leave his mouth. “i love you, okay?”

for a split second, there’s a sequence of images that flash through his mind. his body would learn to wake up at 6:55am every morning despite his alarm being set for 7:00am. he sees you peacefully sleeping next to him, and he can’t bring himself to let that alarm go off and disturb you.

he’d start the coffee pot- enough for two, obviously. maybe he’d leave a nice note for you to start your day off with. maybe a grocery list if you’re up for the trip, but you’d insist that you go to the market together on the weekend. you’re very distracting, and he knows this, but you’d somehow always meet at the dining room table or his classroom to do work together. 

he’d come home to you softly singing in the kitchen while making dinner. every now and then, he’d surprise you with flowers when he comes home from work, but he’ll brush it off and say it’s “for the apartment” just out of pure nerves. movie nights. falling asleep on the couch together. waking up in the afternoon with a split second of panic- but it’s the weekend and he doesn’t have a class to get to. he’d see the sunlight pool against your face as you slowly wake up from your slumber with fluttering eyelashes. he’d kiss you in that unsuspecting moment. he’d say he loves you with every breath leaving his lungs. he’d always have time for you.

“izuku.” you sadly smile, turning over to the stove and extinguishing the flame. “you don’t have to do this, you know?”

his heart sinks to his stomach.

“i know- no it’s not like that.” he stammers. “it’s because.. i’m saying it because…”

he makes his way around the kitchen island to you, firmly gripping your shoulders. he wants to make sure you hear this from him properly. after all of these years.

“because i love you, and i think i alway have.” he bites his bottom lip. “and i think i always will, and you’re here, and i’m here, and i know it’s hard because i kind of really messed things up in university, but to be honest, i regret everything because yeah i love my job and i’m doing okay now, but i lost you for 5 years and thought i’d never get to see you again and i should've-”

he stops himself when he sees his reflection in your eyes. he’s doing it again- the rambling.

“sorry.” he mutters. “but do you…do you understand?” he almost pleads.

“i understand.” you nod your head, a long exhale following your reply.

for a moment, you’re 22 again, and the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over are no longer apologetic, but now hopeful.

you can’t help but pull him into a hug, running your hand up and down his back as he sniffs back his tears.

“always such a crybaby, izuku.” you muffle into his shoulder. “i love you, too. you know that.”

“i feel so stupid.” he chokes out. “5 years is so long, and i feel like i blacked out for the entirety of that time and now that you’re back, i’m alive and can't do it without you again.”

he pulls away, looking back at you with furrowed brows and tear stained cheeks.

“please stay in the city. please.” 

your eyes widen at the request- the same request you wished left his lips all those years ago.

“you want me to stay?”

“selfishly, yes.” he bites down on his bottom lip. “here. with me.”

you take a moment and let your eyes wander around the apartment. you eye the half cooked dinner on the stove, the pile of unopened mail sitting on the counter, the row of dead plants lining the living room window.

izuku follows your eyes. he knows you’d settle in nicely, almost like the final piece in a puzzle. he feels it in his gut. he also feels the panic bubbling in his stomach the longer your gaze lingers at the chaos behind him.

“is that too fast?” he breaks the silence. “sorry. i don’t mean to jump from ‘i love you’ to ‘move in with me’ in the same night.” he awkwardly laughs, releasing you from his grip. “uh, maybe we’ll talk more about that after dinner.”

his face burns into a bright red- snapping out of his love dazed state and back into the reality where he just confessed to his best friend on a random night in.

“maybe after dinner, you can give me a proper tour of the place?” 

for the first time in izuku's life, he feels content knowing that time passes and the world continues to turn.

with you, it feels a bit gentler.

with you, it's worth it.

-

bonus ssrryy i have to be indulgent lmao:

the first time izuku kisses you, you're on your way back from a late night outing from the bars with his coworkers where he introduces you as his partner for the first time.

"you sure you're okay?" he laughs as you rub your hand against the back of his neck from the passenger seat.

"super peachy, zuku." you hiccup, twirling a green curl between your fingers. "a few drinks got nothing on me."

izuku presses his lip into a wobbly smile.

from his peripheral, he feels your stare burning into his side profile, only making him more nervous by the second. he thinks about teasing you and calling it out for a moment, but he remains silent for the rest of the drive back home.

izuku parks the car, shutting off the engine and letting the overhead light dimly illuminated the space between you two.

he leans over to meet your eyes and rests his elbow over the center console, taking a second to silently debrief from the night's social outing.

"thanks for coming out with me." he whispers, reaching down and shyly interlocking his index finger with yours.

"i love a good excuse to drink." you laugh, leaning in and letting your foreheads connect.

izuku only had a single drink several hours ago, but he suddenly blacks out. with his other hands, he reaches up and tips your chin up and lock his lips with yours.

it takes you off guard, but you don't hesitate to reach up and rest your hand on the side of his neck.

when izuku pulls away, his breathing is heavy and face grows red. your finger remains interlocked.

"um. i love you." he coughs, briefly meeting your gaze before darting away. "uh, sorry i should have asked" he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"i love you, izuku midoriya." you say in a teasing tone, leaning further over the center console and into the driver's seat.

izuku leans away until his back hits the soft interior of the car door.

"uh, we should.. we should go in? right?" he starts, eyes widening as you inch closer.

you reach over and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him into you.

"yeah, we should." you say before crashing your lips into his, feeling him accept the defeat with a nervous laugh as he lets his hands find the soft skin of your cheek and warmth of your neck.

[irisfixation]

it is generally understood within the adventuring community that some sort of contract should be preemptively made in order to protect oneself from an untimely death.

[original hypnosis fic, second-person narration from perspective of the subject. gender-neutral, little to no sexual content. please read accordingly, and enjoy.]

now, the act of seeking out such a contract, let alone the fact of its normalization, would have been taboo a few decades past. "we don't negotiate with pact-entities", the old elders crow; anti-demon and anti-fae rhetoric was accepted as the norm.

it only took looking at the rate of mortality, the expenditures of the local church, and getting over themselves to at last shake up the in-culture of heroics.

of course, that didn't mean they weren't diligent with their new protocols; information on prospective patrons was inscribed down in ledgers half phone book and half grimoire, noting the terms of agreement, the trustworthiness of pact-entity after pact-entity, any bargain a little too faustian struck through in red.

you'd watch your peers peer through the book, discussing the pros and cons of each. was an unlucky fate too much to pay? were compulsions too obstructive, did the bodily changes contrast too much with one's self-identity?

of course, they all ended up choosing sooner or another. better that than dying young and alone.

it was under this sort of necessity that you went to the house.

-------

it was closer to home than you expected, really - you anticipated some kind of ominous manor on the cliffs, or secluded cabin by the forest's edge, so the three minute walk from the town square came as a welcome surprise. its residence looked the same as any other lodging - you'd no doubt walked past it on your regular commutes countless times without batting an eye.

you knocked, and the door fell open, as if it had been awaiting your arrival; afternoon sunlight bouncing off the gossamer-thin threads adorning the hallway.

make yourself at home, she says. i'll be upstairs when you're ready to talk. you nod and ask if there's any consequences for eating any food or drink. i promise you this; all food i've set out here is yours to eat and drink without consequence comes the reply; perhaps a little verbose from anyone else, but necessary caveats for a pact-entity's trust. you oblige.

with throat wet and stomach sated, you ascend the stairs. the bedroom is small, humble even; you've seen more expensive homes by far from some of your more show-off rivals. more fit for a pauper than the-

"than Her Lady of Marionettes?"

yeah.

"i never cared all too much for the trappings of nobility. i'm satisfied simply living in peace here."

then why the contracts?

"it's mutually beneficial, no? i quench my thirst for control for a time, and you don't meet any horrible, lonely fates. it's no different from any other line of work."

more reasonable than any would-be evil queen you've ever met, let alone one considered an enemy to the hero's guild not so long ago.

"please. i never cared all too much for that arrangement."

she rolls in her bed to face you. despite her role, she looks little different from your sister or partner; eyes still closed, hands still set upon her crosses.

-------

you discuss business. she will string you up, she says; and then, if she were to find yourself in an otherwise fatal scenario, she will pull your body back, mend you, even clear your mind from any hostile entities trying to take it over.

what do each of you get out of this?

"i get to observe the world through your eyes. i get the joy of commanding a body beyond my own. you cede a small, negotiated amount of control, and in return you are freed from tragedy's grasp forevermore."

it sounded like a hell of a better deal than half of the faustian bargains you saw other contract-entities propose.

"if you'd like, we can provide a demonstration here and now. no permanent alterations, and you can back out any time you wish. is that amenable?"

it does indeed sound amenable.

-------

you're sitting by her side on the bed. she's set her crosses down in place of a needle she holds deftly between thumb and forefinger, pinched together like a bee ready to sting. "hold your left arm out, please? we'll begin now."

you do so, and she passes the needle through skin. you feel it travel up across the veins in your wrist, her other hand steadying you in place with the tenderness of lily-petals. your elbow twitches as it passes through; the nerves firing once in shock, but no more. up through bicep, then shoulder; and then out, a release in pressure from within as the needle finally leaves your insides, leaving a trail of silken fibres behind it.

she plucks the taut string left in its wake, and your arm twitches with it, pulled from within. "see? no pain at all."

next is the right arm, then the legs. she flutters around you like a sprite alighting upon forest blossoms, soft fingers and steel-precise nails moving you, adjusting your wrist or shoulders or rotation with studious diligence. the intimacy of being studied and guided like this is almost palpable.

"...and, done." she declares, finishing a line of thread across the shoulders and through the nape of the neck. "well, how is it? comfortable, right?"

"yes, miss", you are made to say; and then, immediately, recall the strings through your upper and lower lip alike, a third running through the seam in your tongue. right. you move your eyes to meet hers; she's smiling brightly, but it's more the naive smile of a child than the former evil queen's smirk you expected. the effect is equal amounts unsettling and genuinely cute.

"well, let's begin." she picks up her crosses again, and with one subtle rotation of a hand's balance, she guides you.

it's easy to follow through. your right arm raises with a poise and natural nature that shocks you, outstretched to one side. she returns her hand to neutral, and your arm falls back once again, more sudden and limp than you were expecting.

("excellent", she says.)

with that first test done, she guides you down the stairs. your eyes are still your own, so some reflexive part of you fidgets as your body glides down each flight of steps; you have no control over if you fall or not. she could throw you down the stairs now, and you'd be helpless; passenger in your own tumbling body.

but she doesn't. your hand remains firmly upon the balustrade, and your every footstep is delivered with care. by the time you reach the landing, your heart may be pounding, but you're just glad to have made it through.

("well done," crows her voice.)

the near-invisible threads all throughout your body continue to urge you forward - sometimes single strings tugging suddenly, but other times shifting in a steady unison, almost imperceptible from your body's natural movements save that no thought of your own guides it. you're in the kitchen, before too long - a rack of dried dishes shows that she, too, has been here recently. your fingers and palm grasp onto each bowl and glass, one by one, filing them away in procedure through the unfamiliar house.

with your body outside of your control, you'd think your mind would wander to idle thoughts; to the birdsong from beyond the window, perhaps, or to thoughts of how your companions are faring in their own attempts to find their own contracts. but all thoughts seem to be silenced by each consequent string's plucking, a resonance within yourself that numbs your brain under its force.

before you know it, the rack of dishes is clear, and you are ascending the stairs again. it's less scary going up, and she knows it; she takes each step faster now, with a fluidity of movement that your legs accept graciously. there is no joint pain, no hesitation - each step is placed with pinpoint precision, each movement following the next.

a puppet's dance, you think; then dismiss the idea just as quickly. you're just here to obtain insurance from danger, not to humor thoughts like that.

she's lying back down on the bed when you arrive - exposing her back to you, vulnerable. but her hands are still outstretched, each one holding those crosses linked to the many strings pulled taut across, within, and around you. "welcome back", she tells you. "i trust it wasn't too uncomfortable?"

"no," you say, "it was fine."

"i'm glad to hear it!" she says, turning to smile at you. "and you took to it so well, too! good doll."

there's something about meeting her eyes as she says those last two words that feels different from everything prior. something deeper, like the strings are mycelial network growing their own nerves to entangle around yours, setting them alight in a microcosm dance, your whole body twitching just subtly as you are affixed within her gaze, burning up from the inside out-

"oh, my apologies. old habits die hard it would seem."

she doesn't gesture you to sit next to her, but your body does so, so you can assume it was her will all the same. she turns to you and explains that the demonstration has concluded; that the act of forming a pact with her is something you can now think of on your own, that you can return to her any time you need and in fact she'll completely understand if she never sees you again. she snips off the strings, one by one, with a pair of ornate scissors - the ones within will dissolve organically, she notes, metabolized by your own body. nothing to worry about.

you're not worrying. you're not thinking much at all, in the aftermath of everything that's happened. but she is patient, and you have all the time you need to recover.

-------

she walks you to the door and waves you out with a flourish. you're reminded of how mundane the house is, and now you can see that same mundanity in the Lady's face; no different from any number of passers-by through the town square.

"safe travels~!" she says, and you walk out the door; your steps faltering just a little as you once more acclimate to control over your own body.

well, for a contract patron, that wasn't so bad. and she seems well-meaning enough. maybe you'll go back there sometime again, you think to yourself, and shrug as you make your way home.

[daydreamingqueen1]

Puppy eyes

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU! Reader (can be seen as platonic too)

Warnings: none. fluff, spencer being a bit of a germaphobe, no y/n, pretty sure is gn reader too

Summary: Spencer Reid vs puppy, need I say more

Word count: 1.3k

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It's the best day ever.

Your day had started pretty normal to be honest, you would even say it was kind of shitty since you had missed the subway you usually took for your daily commute to the BAU.

But, as wiser people say: Everything happens for a reason.

Because as you are making your way to work, your ears catch the soft sound of a creature whimpering. Trying to find the source, you give a couple tentative steps with your head turning from left to right like you are a hunting hound.

Ironically, behind the decorative bushes that surround the FBI building entrance, you find the origin of the sound.

It's not a hound but it's close enough. It's a puppy.

A beautiful, chocolate spotted puppy.

"Oh my god, sweetie, come here!" you gush automatically, your hand extending gently to reach for the animal currently crying between the bushes and the wall.

The adorable puppy looks up at you a bit hesitant at first, big brown eyes meeting yours. It gives a sniff to the air, checking the scent of your palm from afar, you almost squeal from how cute it looks.

Then it wags its tail.

You make kissy noises to coax him closer, your voice getting two tones higher, "Come here puppy!"

It works because soon enough it walks out of its hiding spot and nuzzles into your palm eagerly, tail wagging from side to side.

You practically lunge to grab the poor thing, "Look at you! You are so cute!"

The puppy doesn't seem to mind your cuteness aggression though, its fluffy body melting on your arms when you scratch behind its long ears, "You're coming home with me."

Best day ever.

But you can't just ignore your responsibilities and walk back home to stay with it, and it wouldn't be sensible to leave such a young puppy alone in your apartment either.

So you do the next most reasonable thing.

Your smile almost takes up your whole face when you walk out of the elevator with the puppy in your arms.

Penelope spots you first, immediately dropping the files on her hands on a random desk to come rushing to you, "Oh my god! Oh my god! It's that a puppy my eyes are seeing?!"

You giggle, pretty much vibrating with joy at this point, "Yes, isn't it the cutest thing ever?"

"Aww, my heart can't deal with this!" she cries, hands fanning herself dramatically.

"Where did you get it?" Prentiss chirps in, hers and almost every other head in the bullpen looking up from their desk to look at you. Well, at the puppy.

You keep walking into the office with Garcia looming all over you, "It was crying outside. This little thing was all alone in the bushes."

A hoard of agents are suddenly surrounding you, eager to get a closer look.

"You'll have to look if it belongs to someone," Morgan says, which makes you instantly pout.

"It doesn't have a collar, idiot," Emily argues quickly, "Such a profiler you are."

"I wanna keep it," you smile brightly, "I think it's a boy."

You turn the puppy onto it's back.

"Yep, definitely a boy," Morgan chuckles, he attempts to pet its head but the creature recoils in your arms, clearly overwhelmed at the amount of people.

Noticing the puppy is a bit scared, you pull back from the crowd, only then you notice a certain agent who remains seated on his desk.

“Don't you want to see it, Spencer?” you ask eagerly.

He shakes his head, his body leaning away slightly, “I can see it from right here, don't worry.”

“Oh, come on Reid, don't tell me you are afraid of dogs,” Derek never loses a chance to tease him.

Spencer gives him a flat look, “I'm not scared of dogs, I’m just aware of the amount of diseases they can transmit to humans.”

You tsk your tongue. “But he's so cute, and it doesn't look like it has rabies or anything,” you look down at the dog while approaching his desk, talking directly at it with a baby voice, “Tell me, do you have rabies, little puppy?”

It just stares blankly at you. Proof enough. “See?”

Spencer, ever the statistics expert, begins his rant, “Well, actually, rabies is not the most common disease dogs can carry, nor the only one. Illnesses that pass between animals and humans are known as zoonotic diseases and a 2007 study based in Finland shows that noroviruses are one of the leading causes of diarrheal diseases among people of all age groups and that these can survive in dogs and be passed along to– Please don't get that thing any closer.”

You chuckle at the panic look Spencer gives you when you reach his side. Truthfully, you aren't going to make him touch the puppy if he's uncomfortable with it, but a little bit of teasing is at the order of the day, “Oh, really? Come on, holding it for a second won't kill you.”

You pull the puppy up next to your face and give him your best puppy eyes, mimicking talking as the puppy, “Please? Am I not cute enough to pet?”

Spencer gives you a long look, “Yes, very cute.”

Forcing down your blush, you extend the puppy to him, “Then pet it.”

He presses his lips in a line, his hands coming up defensively as he rolls backwards on his office chair, “I think I'll pass.”

You chuckle and are about to back off when the puppy squirms in your arms, leaping out from your hands.

The scene unfolds in front of your eyes almost in slow motion. You watch how the pup flies in the air, its short body extended as a superhero.

Spencer catches it, thank god.

“Oh, no,” he squeaks when he realizes what he's done, holding the puppy as if it were about to explode, panickedly starting to name every possible disease, “Pasteurella, Salmonella, Brucella, Yersinia enterocolitica, Leptospira–”

His alarmed ramble gets interrupted by the enthusiastic puppy licking up his cheek.

You freeze for a moment, expecting him to die from a heart attack.

Spencer giggles.

“It's giving me kisses,” his face scrunches up adorably at the onslaught of affection, “It tickles, buddy.”

You can't help the relieved laugh that escapes your lips, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm going to have to wash my face with antibacterial soap though,” he chuckles as he puts the puppy down on his lap, away from further kisses.

Oh, and you've just fucked up so bad because your heart gets squeezed inside your chest at the endering sight of Spencer and the puppy staring at each other.

“You are right, he's cute,” Spencer turns to smile at you, the animal's tail wagging incessantly.

You fucked up good.

“Aww, look at you two,” Penelope says excitedly, “It even looks like you, Reid!”

Your gaze shifts back and forth from your coworker to the creature on his lap. Penelope has a point, you can kind of see the resemblance. The puppy has long ears with soft, brown curls covering them that look similar to Spencer's long hair. The cute, hazel puppy dog eyes go without saying.

Morgan snorts, “Babygirl, you are right, it kind of looks like the kid.”

You pick up the puppy and smile, “Seems like I got myself my own mini Doctor Reid,”

Spencer is about to say something back when Hotch’s office opens, both him and Rossi entering the bullpen.

“Agent, please tell me that's not a dog you have there.” Hotch gives you a stern look.

“It is not, sir,” you answer, smiling apologetically and holding the puppy closer against your chest.

He sighs, shaking his head. “Everyone to the meeting room, we've got a case.”

The puppy lets out a tiny bark, and you make your way to the meeting room before Hotch can tell you anything else.

Spencer sits next to you on the round table and whispers against your ear as everyone is filling in, “I'll help you take care of little Doc here if you decide to keep him.”

Not even the gruesome details of the case are enough to sour your mood.

Best day ever.

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yep, this was inspired by all of the MGG pictures with puppies. I am weak.

leave me a prompt if you want!

reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

hope ya liked it, byebye

My masterlist

[heartsoji]

falling in love with your roommate, suna rintaro

roommates to lovers

a/n: i haven't read the manga so i don't rly know anything abt rin's fam situation - sorry if any info is incorrect loll also this is more of like a college au?? idk if rin went to college but here it is

a/n pt. 2: i kinda switch between using rin and suna sorry

"rintaro!"

"what?"

"aren't you tired of living in my home, still? you're 21! i'm sure all of your friends have moved out already, right? most of them probably moved out at 18, but you haven't budged an inch!" mrs. suna scolded.

"yeah, yeah, pipe down, mom. i'll move out soon, i promise."

"no! it was fine that you stayed home for your freshman year of college, and i thought that you'd start being independent for your sophomore year, but you're still completely dependent on us! you don't cook, buy groceries, clean, or do any work around here! what are you going to do when you've graduated and you don't know how to run a washing machine?"

"yes, yes, i'm sorry."

"and i was very understanding of the fact that you didn't want to move into a dorm, but aren't you tired of commuting hours away when you could just get a closer apartment?"

"mhm, mhm."

she sighed. "rintaro, you know im only saying this because i care about you. i want you to be independent and strong, you know?"

"yep. i just booked an apartment tour via online."

"and i- huh?"

yeah.

soon after he decided the apartment was in good enough condition to be living in, he rented it out and moved in.

on his moving day, he met you.

"hi! you're.. suna rintaro, right? sorry i wasn't there on your tour day. i'm your new roommate, l/n! nice to meet you." you said, a friendly smile on your features.

stoically, suna replied, "good to meet you."

at first, you and suna kinda kept to yourselves. you were polite to each other, of course, but there wasn't much talking, only coexisting.

that is, until you discovered his grocery bills.

"$18... you've been surviving on $18?!" you looked at him in shock.

"yeah. is that weird?"

"damn right it is! what are you even buying?"

"well.. i don't know how to cook anything, so i mostly order door dash. my grocery bill is from instant ramen, chuppets, eggs, and milk."

you stare at him blankly.

"you've been eating nothing but door dash, instant ramen, candy, eggs, and milk for the past 2 months?"

"yeah."

this guy.

he just stands there awkwardly at you laugh at him.

from then on, you two become closer.

you taught him basic recipes to make using groceries you taught him to buy, (imagine his shock when his bill came out to be like $60.. and you were like "bro that's normal") you taught him how to use a washing machine, ("oh, so you put the detergent in this compartment..") etc. just basic household chores, but he was so impressed.

eventually, you two stopped being friendly roommates and just became friends.

he was a good listener. you'd rant to him about your problems, no matter how insignificant, and he'd listen to you carefully, and you never felt like your problems were stupid whenever you talked to him.

you two started hanging out a lot. you'd study together at cafes, go to amusement parks on weekends, and just chill at home together.

and as much as you hated to admit it, you had started developing feelings for your roomie.

i mean, how could you not? he was tall, handsome, kind, funny, cheeky, and it certainly helped that you got to see him all tired in the mornings.

you didn't really know if he felt the same way, but if he did, he was a real bitch, because at some point, your relationship became kind of flirty, and he'd give you butterflies on a daily basis.

you two would watch scary movies and he'd let you cling to him, giving your terrified features a teasey smile every now and then.

he'd walk around the apartment with his toned abs out, and his sweats dangerously low on his hips.

when you guys went on walks, he'd give you his hoodie if it got cold.

whenever you'd go on long rants, he'd just stare at your face with love in his eyes. "and then i-what is it, rin?" "nothing, pretty."

like sir you can't just do that. you're too handsome to do that without risk of heart explosion.

then, one day, unexpectedly, he popped the question.

you two were watching a cheesy romcom for the 5th time, sharing a pot of instant ramen, and at the same moment that the male lead said to the female lead, "i like you. a lot. i have for a while now," rin did too.

it wasn't grand.

it wasn't loud.

it wasn't annoying.

you weren't even sure if he meant it.

but when you saw him looking at you, nervous, awaiting a response, you knew he did.

so, at the same time the female lead said, "me too," you did too.

then, with the cheesy romantic music playing in the back, you guys gave each other cheesy smiles, and he planted a cheesy peck on your cheek.

it was subtle.

it was sweet.

it was cheesy.

it was familiar.

it was uncharacteristically romantic and sentimental.

it was just like how your future relationship with your roomie and best friend, suna rintaro, was going to be.

[olderthannetfic]

Genuine question: what's the point of writing fanfic? As in, what's the purpose? No one in the fandom I'm in comments on fics and I even got told off by one person for doing so, as it "encourages bad writers and makes them think they're good". So it seems that it's a lot like book writing, where people work hard and are creative, but instead of getting paid and getting comments on the work, you just sit there silently hoping someone will press the kudos button and make a number go up. I feel like that time and work could be better spent on making something you might get some kind of profit off of. Don't get me wrong, I love doodling fanart, but I don't post it, as I'm aware that there's no point to doing so, and while it's a nice way to fill the time on a commute, it's not something that takes me as much time and effort as fanfic does. So... why do people bother? Sometimes I describe ideas I have and people I know in my fandom will tell me I should write it, but I don't see why. I get more interaction from just saying "imagine if [thing here]" than I would by sitting down, writing for hours, editing and posting [thing here], so what would the point be? I'm not punching down or going "haha women and their fanfic lol!", I genuinely do not get what the point is and this blog feels like it might have someone reading who knows the answer.

--

Do you make art for profit? Genuine question.

There's nothing inherently wrong with being motivated primarily by external factors, but it's not actually why a lot of people create things, whether it's books or recipes or doodles in a notepad.

I enjoy the actual process of writing.

I think many people lose sight of that aspect in an era where tons of <500-word fics that are mostly outlines and "Imagine if..." posts get disproportionate attention for being easy to consume. But the satisfaction of doing a bigger art piece and doing it right is real and motivates a hell of a lot of creation.

I suppose you might be thinking "Okay, but why not just write it alone and never post?", but I like sharing. Showing off my finished creation is part of the joy, and sharing with other people like me is too. But those aren't quite the same thing as worrying about kudos. It's like dressing nicely when you leave the house because you feel great when you know you look good vs. needing another person to tell you you look good.

To be honest, though, this type of feeling has grown in me the better I've gotten at a craft. The closer my finished projects get to the vision in my head, the easier it is to find them fulfilling and to be excited to share them. When I fall short of my own ambitions, it's discouraging no matter how much attention I might get from others.

I feel like it's time for my regular reblog of Adam Westbrook's video essay series The Long Game.

The third and least known in the series is all about this idea of who you're making art for if you're not getting material rewards in the short term. It talks a lot about autotelicity—being internally driven instead of externally.

--

But if you really just want clicks, anon, start a blog that accepts anon asks and posts about wanky stuff. Actually tag things, unlike me, so people can find you.

No, writing for attention isn't worth it.

The time investment is too great and your brain will always fixate on the times people didn't respond instead of the times they did.

But that's not actually why most people write.

[theunaestheticstudyblr]

How I prep for a new semester at uni:

I make a new time block sheet. I put all my classes in, then my commute time. From there I plan study hours, when I need to wake up to not feel rushed, work hours, etc. This plan helps to keep me from getting too overwhelmed and let me feel like I have everything under control.

I do my school shopping on prime day or after the back to school rush. You'll find those nice multi subject notebooks on sale for cheap and fun stationary and backpacks a lot cheaper like this!

I try to get a head start in classes. If I know we're reading a book or something I'll start a couple weeks before school starts. I try to take notes on as many chapters/subjects as I can and all that. This not only helps me get ahead, but it also helps me for when I inevitably fall behind.

I get all the routine maintenance done on my car. I drive over an hour to get to classes so this is very important. Oil change, tire rotation, balance, filters, etc. I save up my summer tips to get all this done.

I stock up on easy and fast foods. Instant noodles, granola bars, frozen meals, etc. Between working a lot and doing classes I don't have the energy to cook and do dishes so this saves me.

I give myself little reasons to get excited. The teacher or the campus or a friend. Whatever it may be. I HAVE to have a reason to drive that long to attend a class for an hour and come back and not get stressed.

I make a food budget. It's so easy to spend $150 a week on snacks and treats and coffees and such. So I have to set a budget and a plan for myself so I can actually pay my rent haha

I plan my walks to classes on campus. Where I'll park, how much time I have between classes, how to get there, etc.

If I have late classes, I make sure that I can call someone after every class as I walk to my car to make sure I'm safe.

Plan little treats and rewards. If I realize there's a week that's going to be super hard on me, I'll plan a little early morning walk or something special I don't do often after as a reward.

I try to be more positive to myself the closer the semester comes. I have to be proud of me and my work. I have to be confident in my abilities. So I have to have that mindset. Which is super hard as someone with severe anxiety and depression and who has been conditioned growing up to be quiet and a background character essentially. But I AM good. I AM smart. I can ace these classes. I deserve to be here and I deserve good things.

I triple check with my job to make sure they have my updated availability and will give me the flexibility I require due to my classes.

Overall, I just get my shit together once again and try and get myself excited. I have the opportunity to study at a university and that in itself is absolutely amazing and something I don't take for granted.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

hello can I do a 17 ❤️‍🩹 and is it possible to do it w/ jamie drysdale? if not then with trevor zegras 🙏🙏

ooo so I only did leprechaun man as a joke because I wanted MK (@chukys-mouthguard) to show the world that she calls him a fucking sweet potato. 😂😂 Plus no one has requested Trevor at all during this celly, so Trevor it is. Sorry you had to sit in my inbox all day, apparently my body decided to sleep the entire day. I had no idea where this was going and I'm debating if I lost the plot half way through but it's cute I think.

200 Followers Celebration

Overcompensating by giving compliments and being extra nice, but feeling frustrated all the same when their crush doesn't seem to notice their efforts.

Trevor has been acting strange lately, you couldn't pin point what it was or when the turning point was but he definitely had a shift in his behavior. Trevor was one of those people in your life that you couldn't really tell anyone if they asked how long you have known him or when you guys first met. Both of your moms went to college together and you were destined to be cousins from that moment on. Except, Trevor and you never acted like cousins. Not in the same way you interacted with his little brother and sister. Not in the same way he interacted with your siblings.

Trevor and you, you both acted well like an old married couple most of the time. Two people that would do anything for each other, hell they would move the heaven if they needed but when it came to everyday life they bickered like they have been stuck with each other since the beginning of time. Jack and Cole constantly gave him shit for it back when they were all on the same development team. They both told him that he needed to make a move before someone stole his 'wife' from him. At the time, you remember Trevor telling you over FaceTime both of you laughing about it till their were tears in your eyes.

Now years later, you ended up in LA for work. Trevor was so happy he had someone with him, even though at the time he was already living in Orange County for years. He insisted on finding the perfect apartment in the middle of of your work and the rink. Which meant that both of your communites with traffic were a little over an hour. On the phone with him when he proposed the idea of a shared apartment you told him how insane he was being.

"Z no. It's insane for both of us to have such a wild commute. LA traffic is already insane and you know that. What happens if I accidentally sleep in one day and then I'm what 2 1/2 hours late for what." you try to reason as your folding your laundry, trying to deicde what to donate since you don't want to pay to lug so much across the country.

"fine then we will pick a place closer to your work. it's only fair anyway, you're there year round anyway." he decides, glancing at his phone for a second, while he continues to search on his mac for new apartments.

"No." you argue.

"yes Y/N I am not letting you live here by yourself okay. " Finally looking at you in the camera he seems your black dress your holding up, as if your debating if it's time to part ways with your 'slutty little black dress' that was your saving grace during college. But Trevor remembers it as the dress you wore with him to the go out to the bars, the dress you wore when he realized his friends were right he was madly and deeply in love with you.

"did you just put that in the donate pile?" he asks. Nodding your head yes, before you could speak he continues. "No you have to keep that one bee. " he begged.

bee a name only he could call you. a childhood name he started calling you because he said your words could sting anyone like a bee if you wanted to. what started as an insult became a name of endearment and one he only used when he really wanted something.

But now months later, as he's driving you home and your in that exact dress he begged you to keep all you want to do is for the ground to swoll you whole as you sit in his jeep. Glancing over at Trevor you see his eyes are clouded with anger, not sure if your mad at you or his teammate for flirting with you. As if he could read your mind, he brings his hand over to yours bringing it to his lips and lightly kisses it.

"I'm not mad at you bee okay." he says as he glances over at you as he comes to a stop. It's the first time he makes eye-contact with you since leaving the club almost 30 minutes ago, he sees that you're fighting back your own tears. "fuck bee don't cry." he whispers, deciding to pull over because the thought of continuing to drive while you're this upset physically pains him. As soon as the car is in park, he unbuckles his seatbelt, wiping your tears away with the rough pads of his thumbs. "I'm not mad" he keeps whispering like a promise until you finally shake your head okay.

"why did you punch him?" you finally ask.

"because he's a fuckboy and he doesn't deserve someone like you." the anger taking over in his voice again, you wince as if his tone of voice could physically hurt you, like his fist hurt his teammates.

"then who?" you whisper, suddenly feeling a boost of confidence you haven't in a long time.

"what?" he asks so quietly you can barely hear him over the hum of the music playing through the speakers.

"who do I deserve? because ever since I moved here you seem to have a lot of ideas of who I should date and shouldn't. I know we've known each other our entire life's but that doesn't give you the right to cock block me every chance you get Trevor!" by the end you are red in the face from your screaming confession.

"Y/N you deserve someone who will love you! Who knows you like the back of their hand. Someone who won't ever hurt you even if it's by accident. Someone who can give you everything you ever hoped for and more. Someone who will sit with you while you rant about the newest project at work or your new favorite obesession for the month. You deserve someone who will stay up late with you just to spend time with you because they missed you. You deserve someone who can give you the world. You deserve someone better than me and that little fucker isn't better than me." Trevor's face is one of pure shock . His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly ajar as he realizes what he just confessed.

"Trevor." Unbuckling your seatbelt so you can get closer to him, even thoguh you are already in a small space. "what if all I want is you?" you ask, leaning closer to him.

But he shakes his head pleading, "no you deserve better."

"no there isn't" you reason, taking your hands resting them on either side of his face, resting your forehead against you.

'what if I hurt you." he confesses

"you won't" leaning close enough that your lips are almost touching.

"you don't know that."

"I know that you doing nothing is hurting me more than you ever could hurt me by trying." His eyes snap open at your words. "please kiss me Z." That's all it takes for him to close to space between you both.

[drearycrow]

Hi, i absolutely love your writing! Um, gathering the courage to ask, with Kunikida, comfort (me towards him) , perhaps combined with loss of virginity?....the mind is a strange monkey . Anyway, thank you for what you've written so far!

Notes: I'm glad you like my writing! I love writing about Kunikida. I don't see much appreciation for him. Why is writing smut so hard? NSFW warning mdni!

You and Kunikida have been dating for a year now. It's a happy relationship but you two haven't been intimate. Kunikida wants to be closer with you but he's a virgin. He's nervous to bring it up to you. Kunikida spends a week trying to muster up the courage to bring it up to you.

You and Kunikida walk home together after a long day at work. The commute home was silent. Kunikida would occasionally glance at you but didn't say a word. Today was the day to bring up his issue. He was quite nervous about it. Once you two arrive home, Kunikida grabs your shoulder. "Hey can we please talk for a minute?" You turn your head to see a stern look on his face. "What is it that you want to talk about?" He sits down on the couch and pats the empty seat next to him. You sit down and look at him. Kunikida closes his eyes, lets out a sigh before speaking up. "I want to get closer with you but there's something holding me back. I um..." He rubs the back of his neck as a blush appears on his cheeks. "I've never slept with anyone before. I want you to be my first." His cheeks are visibly pink and he looks away to hide his embarrassment. You smile at him and you grab his chin to make him look at you. "Hey it's alright, I would love to be your first. Kunikida smiles back at you and gives you a kiss.

It's been an hour since you've had your conversation. Kunikida has you laying on your stomach as he pounds away. He didn't expect it to feel amazing. His movements are slow yet rough at the same time. This newfound sensation is driving him crazy. The way you moan is music to his ears. Your head gets shoved into the pillow as he gets more rough. "Ngh- you're squeezing me tight, my love. Can't get enough of it?" You start to moan louder when he hits your sweet spot. He takes it as a good sign and continues to hit it. "Kunikida I'm close..." You barely managed to babble out. You bite the pillow to suppress the moan but that hardly did anything. "Me too..." His fingers grip tightly on your hips, leaving crescent shaped marks on them. With a loud grunt, Kunikida spills inside you. You finish shortly after him. Both of you breathe heavily trying to come down from the intense orgasm. Kunikida slowly pulls out hissing from the sensitivity. He lays down next to you and pulls you closer to him. You lay your head down on his chest, hearing his heart race. "I love you, my dear." He kisses the top of his head. "I love you too." Both of you fall asleep shortly after, happy that you've grown closer.

[ilsolefiesta]

Hii

I loved your recent solar return observations.

Can you please tell me a solar placements indicate having a job in solar return chart??

Thank u for your helpful content 💋

Hi! Thank you for interesting question! It made me take a closer look at all my solar return charts from the past few years...

SOLAR RETURN AND JOB

Get ready, it will be long.

This post is, as usual, based on my personal experience and my solar chart's observations, as well as my knowledge of astrology theory. From my point of view, main actors responsible for the job issues are:

- the 2nd house. house of our values, comfort, resources and money in general.

- the 6th house. house of our daily routine, discipline and self-organisation which changes if we have a job.

- the 10th house. house of our career. it shows how we present ourselves in the outer, social space.

Someone could add the 8th house as a house of hidden resources, but I don't think it refers to a job as such. I think it could refer to an income that is not necessarily connected to the job. However, if your job involves something secret or even illegal, then it could also be considered...

I, personally, would like to add Ascendant as it provides an overall view of your life path for the year. Next, I'll show you why. There will be some personal stories of mine, so if you are not interested in it, you can simply skip them and find the answer below.

1. My 2019 Solar Return Chart.

Background: It was the first time I ever had a job. At that time, I was working as a receptionist in a hotel. I got this job thanks to my university dorm mate, who happened to be working there as well. There were a lot of international guests, so this was the first time I really had to use my English. As I worked at the front desk, my appearance and communication skills were very important, as I was representing the hotel.

Solar Chart: My Solar Asc was in the EXACT conjunction with my Natal 9th house. The keynote of the whole year was connected to something foreign. My Solar 2nd house was in Gemini, while Mercury, which rules it, was in Libra in the 6th house. This indicates that my income depended greatly on communication and the ability to compromise and please others. I, overall, had a major stellium in the 6th house (Mars, Sun, Mercury, Venus, Part of Fortune), so I can mention an active 6th house as a main sign of gaining a job this year. My Mars and Sun were both in Virgo, which meant that I had to suppress my aggression when working, as I needed to be moderate with difficult guests. The Sun, btw, was also a ruler of the 6th house (+10 points to Gryffindor). Venus in Libra made me more conscious of how I looked while working. And my personal observation is that the 6th house Venus can signify that women played a role in helping to get the job. Most of these 6th Solar house planets appeared to be in my 1st Natal house, indicating that work was essential to my identity at the time. As for the Solar MC - it was Capricorn with its ruling Saturn in the 10th house either. I also had Pluto there, so I felt a great sense of responsibility after gaining this job and I put my back into it. Btw, my Natal Jupiter in my 2nd Solar house indicated an increase in financial well-being.

💫 ✨ 🌟 💫 ✨ 🌟

2. My 2021 Solar Return Chart.

Background: I finished my university studies and moved to another city. At that time, I was working in an anime/k-pop and related shop. I was very happy because it was in my field of interest at the time. However, my enthusiasm didn't last long - it turned out to be harder than I imagined. The workday overall (including the commute to work) lasted almost 16 hours, and at some point, I became really physically exhausted. I made enough money, but my spending was really uncontrolled because of my place of work. Should I say how much I had to communicate with the children? Solar Chart: My 1st house Solar Mercury was in conjunction with my Natal Venus. I truly enjoyed interacting with customers! I enjoy discussing art in general, so this was a win-win situation for me. Again, the 6th house Solar Neptune being the 6th house's ruler. I idealized this work to a certain extent... however, my Solar Libra Mars in the 12th house, which referred to my 1st Natal house, showed me how much effort were required. It was the year when my Natal houses matched my Solar ones - like 1st house is in the 1st house, 6th house is in the 6th house etc. So, when the mentioned Solar houses (2, 6, and 10) align with the Natal ones, it's also can be a sign of finding a job. I see the reason for this in the fact that during such a year, the issue of the Natal house becomes particularly prominent and relevant, so we make efforts to implement the house's rules. My Solar MC, btw, was in Cancer. Moon, as the ruler, accordingly, was located in the 5th house. Speaking of children, haha... I also had Jupiter in the 5th house, so it was a REALLY joyful time. My mental state was excellent and I would have probably continued to work there, but my body reached its limits at that time. The 2nd house Solar Venus was placed in my 3rd Natal house. The 3rd house is originally ruled by Gemini, so you can see the intersections with the description of the previous chart - communication, customer service, etc.

💫 ✨ 🌟 💫 ✨ 🌟

3. My 2022 Solar Return Chart.

Background: I returned to my hometown to rest. Some time had passed and soon, my mother said, "Maybe it's time to find a job, okay?" (I didn't want to...). However, her working buddy's husband was looking for an employee... That's how I ended up working at the customs. As a government agency, it had strict hierarchy and rules, as well as uniforms. Most of my colleagues were men who were older than me, but there was one woman who taught me everything I know now about this field. I was even joking that she and the man who hired me became my "working godparents" - our relationship was good to that extent. I was appreciated for my skills and my team relied on me, although my income was very low. So low that I don't even want to mention the amount.

Solar chart: Well, customs... Guess my Solar ASC that year? Bingo, it was Sagittarius. My Solar Sun, Venus and Part of Fortune were all in the 9th house either. My Solar Ascendant was very close to my Natal IC, which explains why I worked in my hometown. The 2nd Solar house was in Capricorn with Saturn in it. So hello to all hardworking people who are paid little. I'm part of the team! Natal Saturn was also placed in my 6th Solar house - so, the overall image of working with someone who's age is not the same as mine is also justified. The ruler of the 6th Solar house was Venus. In Virgo. So I had to change my style to be more moderate and match the corporate culture. I had Solar 7th housed Mars and Moon in my Natal 10th house, which, for me, refer to the people I described earlier. the connection between the 7th and the 10th house really made my corporate life more pleasant. moreover, my Natal Jupiter was in my Solar 7th house - the team was great, and I really enjoyed working with those people. Solar Mercury was in the conjunction with the Midheaven in Libra - I consulted people really often (I was a secretary, btw).

💫 ✨ 🌟 💫 ✨ 🌟

4. My 2023 Solar Return Chart.

Background: I mentioned it briefly in my previous post, but I would like to elaborate on it. I had to leave my job suddenly and unexpectedly. After a break, I needed to find another job quickly because it was a matter of survival as I moved to another city again. This is how I ended up working for a foreign company that deals with logistics. My current occupation involves working with contracts, double-checking, and ensuring accuracy. There is no more hard work - I simply do what is required. My image of myself at this work is still not very clear. Sometimes, I feel like I don't fit in well with the team and have trouble communicating. By the way, I was recently told that my colleagues had decided to hire me after learning about the issue of my university thesis, which was about the role of women in post-Soviet countries' diplomacy.

Solar chart: First of all, I, again, had a stellium in the 6th Solar house - Venus, Sun, Lilith, Mercury. The 2nd Solar house was in Taurus, and its ruler is again in the 6th house. Mercury and Sun in Virgo highlight conscientious approach to work. However, I have 12th Pisces Retrograde Saturn referred to my Natal 6th house - I don't want to push myself anymore (and I have more time now to write this post, haha). The 12th house Solar Neptune falling into my 7th Natal house can indicate difficulties in communication with my colleagues. My Solar Midheaven is in Sagittarius. Surprise-surprise, there's foreign influence again? Solar Uranus is in the 2nd house - my income and the place of work have changed suddenly. There's also a conjunction of Retrograde Jupiter with the 2nd Solar house - the income has grown, but I'm still not fully satisfied. By the way, my Solar 6th house Leo Venus is placed in my Natal 11th house. Remember my point about the 6th house Venus and the support of women in the workplace? I find it very fun that my advocacy for women has led to them hiring me.

SO, OVERALL TRENDS ARE:

placements in the 6th Solar house. the more the better. stellium? amazing. the second priority is the 2nd house. the third - the 10th.

the connection between 2, 6, 10 houses (both Natal and Solar). i.g.: the ruler of the 10th Solar house in the 6th house, the ruler of the 6th Solar house in the 6th house, the ruler of the 2nd natal house in the 6/10th house etc.

mentioned houses of the Natal and Solar charts are matching (i.g.: 6th Natal house is in the 6th Solar house).

the conjunction of the Natal Ascendant with the cusp of the 2/6/10th Solar house and vice versa.

However, it is far more interesting to take a comprehensive look at the chart, as it can provide insights into some distinctive features of your working style, the circumstances of obtaining the job, income, and so on. In the end, I would like to emphasize that all these predictions are hypothetical, and should only be considered if your personal circumstances allow it. Like, some time ago, my younger sister asked me for a taro reading about her future husband and career. She was only 11 years old at that time, and I responded by saying, "Husband? I'm not a fortune-teller or magician. It can't be accurate because it's too early to predict such things..." I was just being metaphorical, but I hope you understand what I meant by that.

Thank you for taking the time to read this! I hope there are people out there who can relate to this long post.

Picture credits: Pinterest

[exhaslo]

Um, hi, this is my first request, so I'm kind of nervous and will probably ramble. I wanted to ask if you could write a Miguel fic where he's the reader's best friend's older brother? Something like in the song 'Stacey's brother' by Mad Tsai, except that the main character is a girl. Er, so basically, reader has been bff's with Miguel's younger sibling for a long time and she and Miguel started developing feelings for each other over time and he wants to tell his sibling, but she's nervous and feels guilty. So then Miguel starts touching her and teasing her whenever she goes over, trying to get her to crack? And then a spicy hookup scene too? But more soft, like a childhood sweethearts kind of thing? Sorry it's so specific, I just want someone else to write it for me 😭. Okaythanksbye!

Awe! Don't be nervous and I love the idea!!! I'll keep it nice and sweet with a little bit of teasing here and there for you! But don't be afraid to make requests!! :D

Warning: Fluff really, teasing, touching, making out

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

Since kindergarten, you and Gabriel O'Hara had been best friends. The two of you were like peas in a pod and had to absolute everything together. From then until now, the two of you would always try to be in the same class.

Hell, not even the college life could separate the two of you. Both you and Gabriel had to get into the same college. Once you did, you decided to dorm together, at least you were until his big brother had something to say about it.

You had heard the stories of the big bad brood known as his brother. Miguel O'Hara. Every time you went over to his house, you never saw the man, until now that is. You wanted to find out why his big brother was holding you back from your best friend.

And lord was he your type.

"What gives dude?" You huffed, staring at the large man before you.

"(Y/N), Miguel is mad todaaaaay, he's gonna lecture you!" Gabriel cried out, crawling on the floor as if he was a survivor.

"It isn't like we're together or anything. You know your brother as well as I. He can barely touch himself out help." You said bluntly.

"Ouch, that hurt, (Y/N)."

"This isn't about that," Miguel said with a loud huff, "I just don't think the two of you fools will focus on your school work. You'd just play games all day instead of studying." He admitted.

God, he even sounded fine. You furrowed your brows as you tried to glare towards Miguel. He kept his stern look, towering over you. Whatever girl got with him was lucky indeed.

"Fair enough. Gabriel, why don't you commute from home since you live closer to the college. I'll dorm since my parents are moving out of the city. I can always come over and hang out."

"Here?" Miguel questioned. You glanced at his handsome face,

"Is there a problem?"

"No."

----------

There in fact was a problem. Gabriel was living with Miguel at the time. This was dangerous. Every time you came over, you could barely focus. Miguel was stealing your attention away from your best friend. He was just, oh so fine!

Honestly, you wanted to learn more about Miguel. Sometimes, you purposely went to the house when Gabriel was in class just to play dumb. Miguel offered to have you wait inside for him, but you always chickened out.

But not today.

You honestly thought Gabriel was home when you knocked on the door. The two of your shared a different class and had a project coming up. When Miguel answered the door, you felt your knees grow weak.

"He's at his club," Miguel said as he let you inside. You bit your lower lip, holding your bag tightly,

"Oh, I forgot that was today." You said, plopping yourself on the couch and getting your notes out, "I'll just wait here. We have a project to work on."

"Hm, I remember him saying something about that. What are you working on in the meantime?" Miguel asked as he leaned against the couch, his breathe tickling your ear.

"Biology." You did your best to avoid stuttering.

"Need some help?" Miguel asked as he sat beside you.

You could feel your heart racing as Miguel pressed up against you. His warmth engulfing your side. You were enjoying this. It was hard for you to pay attention as Miguel tutored you. All you could hear was the beating of your heart.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel whispered, his hand against your thigh, "You don't seem to be paying attention."

"Kind of hard, when I have such a good teacher," You muttered.

Miguel just chuckled in response as he stroked your thigh. You scooted closer to him, your hand against his. Your body was getting warmer as you got closer to Miguel. His face was inches away from yours.

"Fiiiiiinally! I thought I'd never be free!" Gabriel gasped, immediately making the two of you move away, "Hm? What are you guys doing?"

"Studying." The two of you said in unison.

----------

You kept going over to 'study' at Miguel's place. Each time, you and Miguel kept getting closer and closer. His hands were roaming a different part of your body while you tried to kiss him. Each time you tried to place your lips against his, something stopped you.

Not this time.

You were sitting beside Miguel, attempting to study. His hands were holding your waist, giving light squeezes every now and then. You were trembling under his touch. You bit your lower lip, leaning into his touch,

"Hey, Miguel," You whispered. Miguel stroked his hands against your back towards your inner thigh,

"Yes, (Y/N)?"

"I want to study something else," You whispered, slowly crawling onto his lap, "Do you think you can teach me this too?"

"I think I can,"

Miguel grinned as you finally kissed him. He hands rested against you waist, deepening the kiss. His tongue pushed itself into your mouth, exploring your wet cavern. You muffled into the kiss, wanting air, but Miguel was dominating you.

"Ugh, what a day," Gabriel sighed as he struggled to open the door.

You quickly rolled off of Miguel, squealing lowly as your skirt lifted up. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he fixed your skirt, his fingers gently grazing over your panties. You felt your heart race as you avoided Miguel's gaze.

"H-Hey, Gab! How was class?" You asked, leaning over the couch. Miguel glanced towards his brother, hiding the fact that his hand was now groping your ass,

"Any news on that test you took?"

"Uh, oh wow. What a beautiful day out. Hey, (Y/N), I just remembered that there is a party going on in the quad. Why don't we go check it out?"

"Sure!" You chirped, trying to ignore Miguel's touch, "Have fun at work, Miggy."

Miguel grunted lowly as he watched you leave with his brother. It felt unfair how he had to hide his relationship with you. You were his precious little girlfriend. You were only a couple years younger, but the fact that Miguel worked full time made his time with you so short. He needed more of you.

-----------

"He'll be fine, let's just tell him." Miguel whispered in your ear as he sucked against your neck. You mewled softly, squirming against his lap,

"B-But he is totally going to sing that deception song," You whined.

"He'll get over it."

"But, Miggy," You whined softly. Miguel hummed to your cries and proceeded to grope your body, "It isn't fun hiding our relationship from him."

"I think it is," Miguel huffed, then heard the door downstairs shut, "He's here. How would you like him to know?"

Miguel smirked as he pinned you against his bed, locking you down with his body. You whimpered, feeling his needy lust and your own. You reached up, kissing Miguel. Miguel held your head, making sure that you left his room exhausted.

"Hey, Migs. I'm going to head over to the library for a bit. If (Y/N) stops by, let her know for me, kay?" Gabriel yelled. Miguel raised a brow, breaking the kiss,

"Why don't you tell her?"

"Well, you're her boyfriend aren't you?" Gabriel yelled.

Both you and Miguel froze and immediately ran downstairs. Gabriel just had a grin on his face,

"C'mon, you're my best friend and he's my brother. I noticed long before you guys even kissed."

"But the song-"

"Sang it at karaoke with the boys," Gabriel laughed. Miguel glanced at your dumbfolded expression and chuckled, picking you up,

"(Y/N), Gabriel's going to be in the library. Guess this gives us more study time."

"Ew, no. I don't want to know!" Gabriel cried out as he ran off. You just laughed,

"Don't worry! You'll be my maid of honor!!!"

"Nooooooooooo!"

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

Hahaha, hope you enjoyed!

[cut-the-camera]

Long Distance Relationship with Charlie Spring

Charlie Spring x Male Reader

I feel like you either met on the internet or you met while he was on holiday to your hometown/country

He'll always defend your relationship to people who think long distance relationships don't work, aren't real relationships etc

He always gets so excited when he sees you've texted him, he always gets in trouble in class for having his phone under the table to text you

If you have different time zones then he has yours as a widget on his phone though after a while he does just have it memorised.

He'll fiercely defend your country or hometown to anyone who talks badly about it even if he's never been there. If he takes geography then he does any projects or presentations on your country and you happily help him

If you speak a different language he immediately starts a duolingo streak for it, blushing when people ask him, "Why are you learning that language"

He has your timetable/schedule memorised perfectly so he knows when you're at work, at school, sleeping, at a club etc. If you ever break up he absolutely resents this because he'll always think, 'oh Y/N's in class right now' or 'Y/N's at work right now'

You have each other on life 360 so you always know where each other is, whenever Charlie gets sad or misses you he'll look at your life 360 to remind himself that you're okay and you're out there

You call whenever you can, every spare minute which he gets teased for by Tao and Isaac because he'll end up calling you at break or lunch. You do homework on call, you make dinner on call, you call when either one of you is commuting/ walking home from school. You even experimented with phone sex

Sometimes the two of you sleep on call, whether on purpose or by accident. Depending on timezones, one of you will be asleep at night while the other goes about their afternoon occasionally taking screenshots of how cute the other is while sleeping. If you can both sleep at the same time you'll snuggle up together, with your device rested on the pillow, talking until one of you caves and starts falling asleep, "I think it's bedtime Char, you're falling asleep," "mmh-no 'm not"

Tori often comes in sometimes to tell him to keep it down if you two are calling at night, sometimes she leaves him be just happy he has someone to talk to but sometimes she needs her sleep

Charlie's parents eventually found out about this and worried. They worried about your relationship as a whole because they didn't like the idea of their son chatting to people on the internet for obvious reasons but they warmed to the idea after you met the via video call and they realised you weren't a 40 year old weirdo. However, they did still worry that Charlie wasn't getting enough sleep if he was always on the phone with you (which may or may not have been true)

Charlie gets a lot more jealous than he'll admit to. He trusts you completely but he'll still stalk anyone he sees tagged on your Instagram story. He loves and hates seeing you post about being with your friends because as much as he's happy you're having fun, he wishes that he was there with you and worries that you have more fun with them than you do with him

He gets very insecure in general, it's not uncommon for him to cry on call when you've been together for a while about how much he wants you with him. You often hear things like, "you don't have to be with me you know, if there's someone you like where you live....." "You don't have to always call me if you don't want to," "We don't have to plan to meet up if you don't want to..."

You always try your best to reassure him and help the two of you to feel closer together like sending him little gifts or letters in the post. For his Christmas you sent him one of your hoodies or jumpers in the post, sprayed with your cologne so it smelt like you and he cried and didn't take it off until new year.

He seems the type to send you more handwritten letters, handmade things or little trinkets that made him think of you. If you live in a different country, he'll send you lots of British sweets/snacks/tea for you to try.

You always try to send him little reminders that you're thinking about him whether that's good morning messages or little titkoks or little vlogs/pictures of your day and he loves them

He opens up to you about bullying and his eating disorder and sometimes you get really choked up because you just want to hold him. He comforts you about any problems you might have in your life too

You two get all the cute couple apps like Obimy or Livestatus or Widget pets (he takes the care of your little widget pet incredibly seriously and will shout at you if you forget to feed them)

You two try as many virtual dates as you can think of whether that's watching films together, studying together, making vision boards together, gaming together, cooking together, book clubs, making playlists etc

You definitely have a Minecraft world together where one of you does all the monster killing and equipment gathering and the other creates aesthetic houses and builds

When you revealed you could come over to him for a few days he squealed and got told off by Tori for being loud. He begged his parents to let you stay over at leats one night and they agreed on the condition you keep the door open (No Hanky Panky in this house)

He makes a countdown to when you're coming over whether that's on a physical calendar or on a little widget on his phone counting down the days until you two meet. His mates are all soooo tired of hearing about it because he does NOT shut up about the fact that you're coming over

You two had the cute couple 'run and hug each other' moment at the train station/airport even if you swore you wouldn't because that's "cringe"

Charlie excitedly showed you around his room before quickly pulling you onto the bed while you watched your favourite show together. He'd planned all these different things about what he wanted your first day/night together to be like and all the things you'd do together but in reality, Charlie fell asleep almost immediately after you started cuddling because he finally felt so safe

He shows you around all of his favourite places and introduces you to his friends which he was a little concerned about but he was on cloud 9 when you got along with everyone really well and everyone loved you

You two take as many pictures as humanly possible together, making them your wallpapers, profile pictures, anything to show how excited you were to finally see each other

You two spent a good half an hour in the airport sobbing and holding onto each other before you had to leave, never wanting to let go of each other.

He manages to convince his family to come on holiday to where you are so you can spend all week together or maybe the whole of the summer holidays if you're lucky.

He loves seeing your hometown and making notes of all the ways its different from where he lives

It's hard sometimes but you two are determined to make it work because you can't see your lives without each other and you still manage to have fun and show your love for each other without being right next to each other (it just makes it all the better when the two of you eventually can move in together)

REQUESTS

[lovelytsunoda]

crying over it all // clement novalak

summary: there are few things in this world more mortifying than failing your drivers test when everyone else your age has a license. it’s made even worse when your boyfriend is a racing driver

pairing: clement novalak x female reader

warnings: reader fails her driving test, which leads to significant self loathing, clem is just trying to be supportive and god I need someone like him right now

authors note: guess who failed her drivers test 🙃 I’ve rebooked it but now I have to commute by way of three buses to my college campus :( and don't even get me started on field placement...i wish i had never left it this long but at this point i need to trust to process and find some sort of way to move past it.

“I’m sorry, but you will need to retake your road driving test. I understand that’s not what you wanted to hear, but you need some more practice. you can see the full list of mistakes inside.”

it had been twenty minutes since she’s heard those words, and she still felt shaky on her feet. her hands had shook and tears fell down her face as she went inside, taking a number and waiting in a notoriously long dmv line to admit to the woman at the desk that she needed to rebook her test.

she didn’t want clement to see her like this, utterly defeated and trying not to scream her lungs out as she watched four teenagers in line in front of her get their licenses.

she was twenty one, for god sakes. she should have been driving by now.

she was sitting on the wooden bench, slouched I gracefully and letting the tears fall as she played with her car keys when clement found her.

what was the point of even owning a fucking car if she couldn’t drive it?

“oh, love." clem frowned, feeling his own stomach sink when he saw how distraught she was. "i take it that things didn't go well."

"could you tell?" she sobbed, trying to wipe her eyes. "was it that obvious? i hate myself, clement. how is it that i can't do something that pretty much everybody my age has been able to do since they were sixteen."

his heart ached as he heard her words. he'd passed his test on the first try, and he drove things for a living, so he's never really thought about what it must have been like for her, having to bum rides off her friends and family or to be bound to the transit schedule. while she was in college, it hadn't been the biggest deal, although it was a minor inconvenience. now that she would be working full time, the stakes were higher.

"i'm sorry, pretty girl." he frowned, pulling her closer, allowing her rest her head on his shoulder. "but you can take it again, and you know what you did wrong, right?"

"i start work next week, clem. i've looked up the commute and if i take public transit, it's almost two hours each way. and i feel like i'm a burden by constantly asking people for rides, or telling them that if they can't pick me up, we can't hang out. hell, my mother had to drive to my first date with you!"

clem chuckled at the memory, the image of a frazzled y/n stepping out of her mother's suv and frantically scanning the parking lot for clement. moments later, her mother had insisted to getting out of the car and introducing herself to clem. y/n thought that she would combust then and there.

"your mother loves me!"

"yeah, but imagine being a grown-ass adult and still having to get your mother to drive you to appointments because you don;t want to chance the bus route not aligning with your appointment time? i feel like my grandmother, and she's ninety, clement. she had her license revoked because she has cataracts."

"i know it hurts right now, but you are never a burden, y/n. your friends love having you in the car when they drive. hell, i feel like i drive better when you're next to me. i don't mind driving you places, you know. it means that i get to spend more time with you."

she smiled at the gesture, turning to allow clem to cup her chin and wipe some of her tears away. her face was flushed, eyes red and puffy. she couldn't shake the idea that she might have made a scene inside the testing center.

"i know. i just wish i could be more independent. transiting gives me so much fucking anxiety. i went over the curb when i three=point-turned and an old lady on a mobility scooter started yelling at me."

"but you never go over the curb."

"exactly! i think i was nervous, when i practiced the route with my dad, there were never any cars on the road. and i think after that happened, i got into my head and it screwed everything else up. i'm such a fuck up. i feel like i've let everybody down, especially you, since you helped pay for my fucking car."

'"hey, hey, don;t talk like that. you'll get it. i promise you. you know jenson button didn't pass his road test on his first try, right?"

she snorted, sitting up straighter, but still clutching clem's hand. "did he really?"

"yeah, and i think lando failed as well."

"yeah well, i've seen how lando drives. that doesn't surprise me at all."

having a laugh seemed to help, and at least now if people mwere staring at her it was because of the f2 driver sitting next to her, not because she was a grown woman who still couldn't drive and decided to cry about it, and then fling her keys onto the grass.

"i have some plans i might have to move around, and then i need to call my parents, and then my dad can take me out to practice a bit more but i have to trust that when i take it again in october, something goes right. because i know exactly what i fucked up."

she moved to get up from the bench, clm following closely behind as she shamefacedly handed him the keys to her volkswagen. well, the volkswagen now, since she couldn't drive it without someone who'd had their license for five years present.

"i'm proud of you for trying. i know that this was something you put off for a long time because of your anxiety, and even though it didn't work out, at least you tried." clem encouraged, his arms comfortably slung around her shoulders as she laced her fingers with his. "hey, it could be worse. you could have had your dad drive you here."

"clement, don't even joke!" she laughed. "you know that i hate taking transit, and that i don't always feel safe going places alone."

"i know. and if you ever feel unsafe, or too anxious to function, or just like you want to see my gorgeous face, call me. as long as im in the country, i will come and get you. and if im not, i'll send someone i trust."

"like who? max fewtrell? his driving is worse than landos."

clem snorted. "i meant ria. or pietra.

"thank you, clement." she sighed, leaning into him as he unlocked the car. "i love you."

"i love you more, pretty girl." he kissed the top of her head softly. "it will all work itself out, love. just you wait. and then you'll be the one driving me places."

TAGS:

@httpiastri @magnummagnussen @oconso @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @clemswrld @love4lando

[blackmarketfruitrollups]

This was supposed to be a quick thought, whoops

Will Hunting x Reader

Monotonous is probably the best way to describe my life. The dictionary definition of monotony is, and I quote, "lack of variety and interest" or "tedious repetition and routine." Yes, monotonous is a good word.

My world consists mostly of working too much and sleeping too little, doing my best to make ends meet but not always quite making it. It really sucks when you try your damnedest and people disregard you entirely. It's not my fault I was born into what they deem the wrong family, born into the lowest tax bracket in the poorest part of Brooklyn. But that's fine I suppose, what have those people ever done for me?

When I'm sitting on the train I try not to consider these things, the train home after work is the one time I have peace, stillness. A respite from grease stained clothing and hands covered in peeling burns, away from condescending managers and leering men. There's one train car that's always abandoned for some reason, and that's the one I hide in. I love it there, the silence, the peace.

Until he started showing up.

Well, until my shift changed at work.

A disgruntled and petty manager meant bad hours for anyone caught on the receiving end of his wrath, and this week it was me. The last thing I expected was for this to change my lack of company during the commute home, but when I climbed into my abandoned car, there he was.

Sprawled out on a bench with a glazed look in his eye was a shaggy blonde boy staring blankly out the window.

Why was he here? Nobody's ever here, but I couldn't think on it long before sitting down in my usual seat, on the other side of the train car.

He never spoke the entire ride, never looked at me once either. The longer he went without looking at me, the bolder my curiosity grew, and the more I allowed myself to study him.

I expected his presence to be aggressive, as most people's felt. Something to be highly alert around while also detached. Or kind of scared at the very least, I'm alone in a confined area with a man I don't know, that seems to warrant some concern.

But he doesn't seem to be a threat, so while I watched him that first train ride I allowed myself to be curious until we got to my stop. When I got off the train I refuse to think of him any longer, it doesn't do me any good to dwell on a stranger I will never see again.

And then I do. My work hours don't go back to normal and I suppose this is just how things are now, and my train car is no longer empty on the way home.

He's always there, always with that pondering look. Sure the expression on his face changes, there's tired, resigned, smug, angry, but he's always pondering. And yet I've never seen him exhibit joy. He's the type of person I would like to see joy on.

But what are these thoughts? I don't even know his name.

At this point we've been riding the train together for months, only the two of us in that car. After a little while he's started looking at me, but I don't mind it. He never looks at me in a jeering or perverted way, never once made a gross remark. In fact he's never made any remark to me ever, about anything.

As we continue to ride the train I find we both seem to have a thing for the stars, many nights I've seen him watch them longingly as I often do myself. What an interesting man he seems to be, and yet as I assume him to be my age he can't be very old at all, I would guess twenty two at the oldest. So I suppose he's an interesting boy.

The longer we ride together the more he looks at me, and the closer our seats get to each other. We probably have about eight feet diagonally between us now, as we have for the last week.

The closer we get the more I notice about him. Occasionally he carries books, although they stay mostly tucked under his legs. The books seem to be largely about math, something I've never been the best at, and he never has the same book twice.

I want to speak to him now, a far cry from the first time I saw him. I want to ask him about the things that he ponders and the books that he reads. I want to ask if he grew up in Brooklyn as well, and question him about how he understands such advanced math material.

But speaking feels like it would be overstepping, breaking some unspoken agreement to leave the train car how it is. To never go any further than just comfortable strangers, continuing your lives separately. So if someone was going to take the risk, it wasn't going to be me.

Although I suppose the shaggy blonde boy is more adventurous than I am, because while I convinced myself that silence was necessary, he turned and looked at me and in his thick Boston accent said,

"I'm Will."

[annab-nana]

Hi Anna, I hope I am not too late to request “I wish we could live together already.” prompt with Tom Holland ;)

omg yes, here you go angel :)

warnings: not proofread, use of pet names (darling)

❀ masterlist ❀

"thank you for coming," tom whispered into the darkness that surrounded you two. "you have no idea how much i was missing you. sam thought i might go crazy when he came a couple of weeks ago."

your smile widened against the fabric of his shirt as you snuggled further into his chest.

"honestly, so was i, but it's only three more weeks after i leave, right?"

"supposed to be, yeah." the way he said that made you think it could possibly be a bit longer so you didn't press the subject.

being in his arms made you realize just how much you'd longed to be there since he left for filming. he started nearly five months ago. he visited you after the first month when his schedule cleared a little bit. you'd planned to come to him a few weeks after his visit, but the week leading up to it, two people in your department at work quit with no warning, leaving you with all the work to do by yourself.

you were devastated that you couldn't see tom, but he assured you that it was alright. he was too busy with filming anyway, so there wouldn't have been a lot of time spent together. you got a good pay raise out of it so that was a plus. it took them a while to find replacements and when they did, you had to do a lot to help train them, but now, you could finally take a bit of a break.

you squeezed your arms tighter around him and tried to be even closer to him though it was almost impossible. "i missed you so much. i wish i could be with you all the time."

tom smiled and pressed a kiss to your head. "me too, darling."

after a good bout of silence of just you and tom lying together in his bed, tom muttered the words, "i wish we could live together already."

he thought you were already asleep, if not close to it, so when you lifted your head to look at him, you heard his small but quick intake of breath.

"why can't we?" you suggested.

"i-" he paused to ponder it. "i don't know. i just figured with me traveling so much, it wouldn't make a lot of sense and you already live so close to your job. it's logical you'd want to stay there and i don't want to pull you from there, but i want to stay living near my family and-"

"tom?" you called, pausing his speech so you could speak. "yes, you travel a lot, but after each trip, you'd be coming home to me. yeah, my job is close to where i work, but i don't mind a longer commute or even looking for another job if that means i get to live with you. and i love your family, so being close to them would be good for me too. tom, i love you and you are my home, so if you're serious about living together, then i am too."

though it was difficult to see in the dark, his smile was always hard to miss. "have i mentioned how much i love you?"

you giggled before pressing your lips to his in a quick peck. "you may have mentioned it once or twice."

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