#I guess you picked the perfect way to die

[loveyouprongs]

did my heart love till now?

remus lupin x fem!reader | she’s a hopeless romantic who loves halloween. he loves her. or at least he very, very, strongly likes her in a way he’s never liked anyone else. enough to wear matching costumes

upcoming content: fluff! mentions of alcohol. lmk if you think i missed anything

authors note: i hope you like this! romeo & juliet is my favorite play and the 1996 film is my favorite movie! and remus is my favorite boy :’)!

word count: 2k

masterlist

remus had been staring at himself in the mirror for so long his reflection was starting to blur, like a watercolor painting made up of the soft brown of his hair, his pale complexion, and shining silver. he felt like a fool. “a lovesick fool,” james would say, but in this moment, he just felt like a fool. period.

“hey moony, have you decided what you’re going to be for halloween yet?” sirius asked as soon as he and james barged into their shared apartment. remus tore his gaze from his book at the sound of his best friend’s unnatural sounding greeting, loud and jilted as if he’d been practicing it.

“…no, wh-“

“well look no further!” james very enthusiastically exclaimed, pulling a brown bag out from behind his back which promptly fell to the ground, the contents now hanging between him and sirius. it was a knights armor. metal shoulder pads atop a slinky silver long sleeve top with chains resting across the chest.

“what the fuck is that?”

“your halloween costume!” james said as if it were obvious.

remus could do nothing but look at his two friends, who he cared for very deeply, as if they were right idiots.

“don’t you get it?” sirius asked, “it’s romeo!”

remus then felt his face red, heat rising to his cheeks all the way to his ears and he knew he couldn’t play dumb to get out of this.

last week at dinner you had said that you were planning on dressing as juliet for halloween. “from the movie of course!”

“isn’t that part of a couples costume?” marlene asked, “are you bringing a mystery man with you to my party?”

at that, remus tensed, his shoulders instinctively rising to his ears and his heart quickened waiting for your response. he hung out with you pretty much every day, you’re tight knit friend group always sharing at least one meal together. he felt like he would know if you had a boyfriend, but he was still feeling queasy waiting for your answer.

“no mystery men with me! i guess it could be a couple’s costume, but it’s so pretty, i don’t mind doing it solo.”

remus felt his body relax and continued to pick at his food, stealing glances at you whenever he could, missing the mischievous looks being traded between james and sirius.

“i am not wearing that,” remus said resolutely.

“why not? girls love this stuff!” sirius responded, tossing the costume on remus’ lap. he refused to touch it, as if any sign that he openly had feelings for you would somehow come back to bite him in the ass. it rested on his legs like an anchor.

“you want me to surprise her with a matching costume? that’s pathetic.”

“it’s sweet!” james stressed.

“yeah, and she’s always so heart eyed over that gooey romance shit, you show up in this and she’ll be begging for it!”

sirius’ crude comments was met with a smack in the head from james and an unimpressed stare from remus.

“remus, i’m telling you, this is a perfect idea! she’s single and dressing as one half of the greatest couples in history, if you show up as the other half, oh it’ll be like straight out of the pictures!” james swooned. remus felt his heart soften at his overdramatic friend, who he knew was just trying to help him be happy, but his nerves overpowered any convincing.

“you do know they both die at the end, right? kill themselves, even. not sure that’s a message i want to send.” remus muttered, standing up from the couch to go to his room, tired of his friend’s antics.

“you’ll never get a date by just staring at her, mate!” james called out, “and she’s well fit, too! you’re time is running out and you know it!” sirius added as remus walked down the hall, the metal costume in tow, only to be shoved in his closet.

but as halloween inched closer and his feelings for you only grew stronger, james and sirius’ words echoed in his head. he could never get the thought of your soft voice and sweet smile out of his mind, he liked you. so much.

you were always the one who kept listening to him when whatever he was saying was drowned out by the group. always spoke to him in dulcet tones, especially when you felt he had a headache. you were smart and funny and kind, not to mention beautiful. beautiful in a way that reminded him of the princesses and angels he would read about in books when he was a child. soft and warm, a glow seemingly always emanating from your figure.

remus would be content with just looking at you for the rest of his life, he thinks (deep down in the back of his brain, terrified of the strength of his own feelings) but it would be nice to do it without the feat of getting caught by your stare, or his friends taking the mick out of him afterwards.

so here he stood, his torso slightly weighed down by the heavy detailing, but it fit him well nonetheless. it was almost time for them to leave for marlene’s and remus could hear his friends in the living room. he had to make a decision soon.

“y’coming, moony?” james asked through the door.

remus took a deep breath, biting off a square of chocolate. he could do this. it was halloween! you’re supposed to be in a costume. and the film was popular enough, he figured, that he could play it off as a coincidence if things went south.

“…yeah, i’m coming.” he stepped out the door and walked down the hall, rolling his eyes at james’ loud gasp.

“oh my god you’re wearing it!” james practically screeched.

“don’t make me change my mind.”

“oh remus, you’re so handsome!” sirius teased in a high pitched voice, “please be my romeo!”

“for it is the east, and juliet is the sun!” james recited.

“that’s it, i’m changing!” remus exclaimed, only to be dragged back by his waist and walked out the door.

remus was hit by the noise of the party as soon as marlene swung the door open. her eyes trailed down james’ superhero outfit, sirius dressed as patrick bateman, and then remus, her face exploding in an open mouth smile. “reeeeemussss!!!!” she squealed, clearly already on her way to drunk, “you’re such a sweetheart!” she cooed, remus’ cheeks reddening more than he thought possible.

“isn’t he just? now let us in marls, it’s fucking freezing out here!” sirius said, and with a pat on the back, he and james were emerged in the crowd.

“she isn’t here yet, remus, but oh my god she’s going to love it,”

as the night went on remus had practically glued himself to marlene’s increasingly wasted side all night, no sign of james or sirius (who he would bet money are upstairs with dates, or each other), and more importantly no sign of you. he was feeling more foolish by the minute, the metal top growing uncomfortable against his sweaty skin.

disappointed was pooling in his stomach as marlene was nodding off on his shoulder, or so he thought, but he was brought out of his thoughts when a loud yelp escaped her. “you’re here! finally!”

marlene jumped up and stumbled over to a vision in white. flowing silk draped over your body, delicate, feathered wings pinned to your back. excess fabric tied around your waist, framing you beautifully. stunningly. remus felt like he was having an out of body experience, watching himself stand frozen in the middle of the living room, mouth slightly agape, willing himself to do anything other than stare.

“REEEEMUS LOOK! LOOK WHO IT IS!” marlene shout-whispered, shoving you towards him.

you felt your breath escape you at the sight. remus, tall and sweet, looking down at you, his tussled hair dancing across his forehead and his long fingers reached up to brush it out of his eyes, hand trembling. you weren’t fully convinced you weren’t dreaming.

“she, she’s pretty out of it,” he spoke softly, referring to marlene who was now dancing with a lamp.

“y-you look, i-i really like your costume, obviously” you murmured, fiddling with your hands, resisting the urge to run your hand down his sculpted cheeks.

ever since you met him, you believed remus was one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen. and then once you got to know him, got to experience first hand his limitless kindness, his witty remarks that always put the boys teasing to shame, and his rare barking laugh that only comes out when he finds something really funny (you elicited it from him once and have spent forever chasing that high).

all your friends said he had a thing for you. that he was always staring at you with soft, hooded eyes, move his plans around for you whenever you asked to study together, rest his jacket on the seat next to him so it would appear taken so no one else would sit down it it until you came.

but you were both famously mild-mannered, shy to a fault, and your feelings never rose to the surface, but the same couldn’t be said for right now.

“oh, thank you,” remus responded, “i thought it would be nice if we could match.”

a giggle escaped you at that and you looked down, unable to meet his eye, you both wearing twin smiles.

absolutely thrilled with your reaction, remus bent his body in half, tilting his head up to catch your gaze, eyes filled with hope, “what’d y’think?”

“i think you look very dashing, rem, i didn’t know you were a shakespeare fan.”

“hmm, not so much,” with a deep breath he let out, “i’m a fan of you, though”

the neon lights flashing over you both contributed to the bubble you found yourselves in. the rowdy guests nothing but white noise as you felt your heart pound against your chest over the soft spoken boy.

“really?” it slipped out. deep seeded insecurity worming it’s way to the forefront as you were positively overwhelmed with confronting your feelings… and that who you had them for.

remus’ heart splintered a little at your warbling ask, “yes” he let out, easy as breathing, “of course.” he placed a large hand on your shoulder, his thumb dancing on the edge of your collarbone.

“i’m a fan of you, too. more than anyone else,” you whispered with a step closer, your white ballet flats lightly knocking against the tips of his black boots, the space between you dwindling.

“aren’t i lucky,” remus murmured wistfully, “to have an angel say that about me”

with that you couldn’t take it anymore and pressed your lips to his, immediately getting lost in the sparks. unsure of what to do with your arms, you awkwardly placed them on remus’ forearms, as if you were holding him still in place. he smiled against your lips, the breath escaping from his chuckle dancing across your face as he lightly dragged your hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders.

you melted as he pulled you in, you gasped as he ran his tongue against your bottom lip, you chased after his lips when he pulled away with a stuttering breath. “y’have to give me a minute angel, or m’heart’s going to give out,”

you giggled, knowing exactly how he felt as he tucked his face into your neck.

“oi oi, c’mon lupin! what did i tell ya! i knew you could do it!” sirius shouted from across the room, thrusting his cup in the air in congratulations.

“oh christ,” remus muttered, his annoyance dissipating with your laugh.

“you are a lover, moony! borrow *hic* cupid's wings and soar with *hic* them above common ground!” james, although very drunk and hiccuping, recited.

all remus could do was roll his eyes, he had everything he wanted right in front of him. after he was done kissing you until the sun came up (and a little bit more after that), he could figure out when the fuck james seemingly memorized romeo and juliet.

[thewinchestah]

"PREY" - Alastor x reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, begging, overstimulation, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink,

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: i lost count. it's big.

  | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A/N: Helloooooo!!! I write a lot but i never publish it! My lovely friend and also biggest inspiration for this fic @smallershorteranduncut ordered me to post this and i'm nothing but her loyal servent! I hope you guys enjoy the fruits of me writing 10 google docs pages today while i was enraged. Also english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here yadayayfayada! enjoy <;3 (UPDATE!) Part 2 is now up!

-

Everything about the Radio Demon seemed to be designed to make you desire him, want him. Many times in ways you weren’t even ready to admit to yourself. You haven’t been in Hell long, that’s true. But ever since you manifested here you felt like someone had picked your brain open to make Alastor the perfect bait to lure you into even more sinful, sinister paths. 

He had an inexplicable magnetism around him, a piercing presence that made your eyes stuck on him when he worked a room. He had you bewitched and you hadn’t share more than polite pleasantries with each other since you became a guest at the hotel.

Today, again, you were transfixed in his gaze. Sitting in the corner of the hotel lobby, trying to make your embarrassing attraction to him go unnoticed while Alastor waltzed across the room explaining more of his wicked plans to Charlie. God, how you wish he had his wicked way with you. 

He seemed more… on edge today. His red eyes  glowed a little brighter, his nostrils flared a bit more, static filling the room more often, he was smiling with almost barred teeth, and everyone seemed to be avoiding him. Even Charlie was trying to politely dismiss him, the general feeling of uneasiness inside the hotel  just growing larger when Angel stationed himself near your little corner of the room. 

“Don’t go near that creepy motherfucker today, he’s about to lose it.”  Angel alerted, almost whispering, a pair of his hands making the “crazy sign” near his head 

“Isn’t he always creepy and about to lose it?” Husk added, staring at the exchange between the radio demon and Charlie.

“I’m telling you toots, I know that guy definitely isn't normal, but today he is borderline a mass extinction event. I swear, he’s just waiting for someone to give him the excuse” Angel replied, confirming your suspicions. Something was off.

“Uh. Well, about that, I think it’s time we rescue Charlie” 

As if on cue Charlie turned to the corner of the room, gesticulating really hard to be taken away from the small commotion her conversation with Alastor was becoming. 

“Hey Charlie, do you remember that thing with the hotel’s… personalized stationery you asked me to help you today? Let’s do it!” Said angel gently guiding Charlie away from the Radio Demon.

“Guess that’s my cue Alastor! Greaaaaat chat! As always! Have a nice day!! Byeee!” Charlie’s overly chirpy tone giving away her uneasiness. 

Suddenly it felt like all the air was taken out of the room. Alastor’s neck turned into an ungodly angle, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Static grew around the group, almost suffocating. As your vision went blurry from the sheer power that was being evoked, you contemplated if there was another afterlife. Preferably one where you didn’t inherit a death wish from your previous ones.

And as quick as it started, it was over. 

Alastor just said a creepy “hm” turned on his hell, and walked away. 

It almost felt like it was all in your head, but your friends standing perfectly still and dead silent next to you gave the reality of the situation away: everyone just had a near death-death experience. Maybe it would be a good topic for Charlie’s bonding exercises, who knows with this place. 

“I told ya’ll. Mass. Extinction. Event. Stay out the psycho’s way”

Angel’s voice became background noise in your head, your eyes focusing on the spot where Alastor just threatened everybody’s life without saying a word. As the voices dissipated around you and normalcy slowly returned to the hotel, your mind sank deeper and deeper into the mystery that was the Radio Demon. 

-

They were so oblivious, so naive. Thinking he wasn’t listening what they said about him behind his back. Thinking he was unaware of him being the topic of the discussion when he wasn’t looking. He could bathe in the smell of their fear, and he was relishing it. 

Alastor stared at the new pretty little thing that arrived at the hotel. Oh how pathetically sweet and innocent she was, thinking she was being subtle about her infatuation with him. Thinking she could hide her interest in him, when she was nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes. Oh, she was just the perfect prey for him, wrapped in this lovely red bow she wore on her hair. 

Angel was right, he was just waiting for an excuse, and she just offered him one on a silver platter. And alastor was everything but a coward. 

-

You cursed a little bit louder than you intended when you saw the blood dripping from your finger. “Stop. making. a. spectacle. of. yourself” you mentally screamed. You still could not figure Charlie’s “special stationary stapler” out, so stapling your finger was bound to happen. 

Even though it was not much, the silly little cut was stinging like a bitch, and your best efforts to stop the bleeding were futile, considering the mess on the hem of your skirt. Still high on the adrenaline from earlier, your shaking hands searched for something, anything to put on your finger so you could continue your work without anyone noticing. Everyone already had enough for one day, it was fine. 

“My dear, did you just hurt yourself?” Alastor’s voice invaded your ears. Oh, fuck. That’s it, he was going to murder you for being so incompetent with the damned stapler.

Turning to face him, you meet his piercing gaze, not sure if you should run and scream for help. “Oh no worries alastor, it’s just a small cut, i can manage!” you give him your most confident smile. 

Alastor’s head tilts, eyes burning red as he watches the small droplets of your blood make their way down your index finger.  

“Nonsense, I can't have my staff running around with injuries and bloodied clothes. We are in hell, but we are not savages, dear” He seems transfixed by the blood, and you are too scared to move, too scared to anything other than hold the weight of his gaze and hope for the best. Your lizard brain is screaming for you to run, ask for help. Maybe Charlie isn’t too far away, could you make a run for it? Somehow your survival instincts override your brain, maybe all those hours watching true crime back on earth weren’t in vain, and you decide against running. Let him initiate first. 

He catches your wrist, trapping it inside his deadly claws. His face, towering over you, comes all the way down to inspect the offending finger. You can feel his breathing on your skin. 

Your breathing stops. You swallow an imaginary lump. He’s gonna bite off your fing-

“Would you be a doll and let me take care of it? Blood being unnecessary wasted truly abhors me” 

You must have said yes at some point, you don’t really remember, now you are holding the red handkerchief he handed  you, answering his request to “please follow him”. Trailing behind the Radio Demon, both of you walk through the large corridors. 

This might be the time to scream for help. the voices inside your head warn. With every step of his feet you hear his microphone going tsk tsk tsk where it touches the ground. You are walking the death row, the paintings on the wall chanting “dead woman walking, dead woman walking”. 

“Keep pressuring the wound darling, we are almost there” he gently commands you, too gently… it feels almost… soft, pleading. The way Alastor goes from 0 to 100 is giving you whiplash. 

He slows down, reaching for the door knob of an unknown room. Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to enter first.

the door locks behind you.

 if i’m being murdered, at least i’m being murdered with class. 

“Don’t be silly, I’m not going to murder you” Alastor says, almost singing the last part of the sentence. 

“Oh fuck, i said that out loud, didn’t I?” you blurted out 

“Yes you did. And yes, I also noticed your lovely doe eyes on me every time i’m in the room” 

Your brain short circuits. That 's it. You are dead. He’s not going to murder you (apparently), but you are going to die of embarrassment. It will feel like murder. He knows, fuck, he knows. He knows about your crush (?) and he’s going to drag you for it. You are going to be so dragged the angels will pity you and bring you to heaven. A creative way to be redeemed, Charlie should know about this. Your thoughts are going downhill as a big snowball, there are too many of them and you can’t follow a single coherent train of thought. You don’t even want to know how you look in the middle of this. You must look pathetic, truly like a doe caught in headlights. And then you hear your name once.

Twice now, in a sing-song voice.

Your eyes fly open towards the sound, breaking from the anxiety induced spell as you realize the Radio Demon had just called you, by name. He knows your name???

“Ah hahah! You’re back.” Alastor says, as he starts to circle you like a predator. Your eyes, as always, follow his across the room.

 “I don’t like to repeat myself, little doe. You heard what I asked?” 

Again, you don’t really remember answering, your brain is going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as you watch him pace around you, eyes burning red, demanding your attention. Teeth slightly barred, voice on the edge of something. Was that “X” on his forehead always there?

“I asked if you know what you are doing to me” static fills the room as he finishes speaking. Alastor’s clawed hand trapped your bloodied finger dangerously close to his grinning lips. Your brain is doing flips as he stares deep into your soul, and when your thoughts land you make the connection. Alastor is horny. Alastor is horny for y-

“You see, little doe, I know what your eyes hide when you desperately lower them everytime I come near you. I know how you feel you can hide in plain sight if you stay quiet enough. But I can taste it. Your fear. Your lust. In the air. In your blood.” He has a white knuckled grip on your wrist now, same with his microphone. You lower your guard, eyes going from startled to lustful. “Good thing right now there’s nothing more i want in this godforsaken pit than your lust, pet”

You want this. There’s no point in lying to yourself. You want Alastor to fuck you. You’ve fantasized about the Radio Demon taking you more times than you can count. More times than you would like to admit to yourself. This feels deeply wrong, but you crave it. 

Fuck it, you are in hell, there’s nothing to lose. Alastor is still watching you, impatiently. For the first time today you realize you actually forgot to say something. He’s waiting. Alastor is waiting for your permission. 

“Take my breath away, Alastor” 

Your permission might have been really loud, it felt like you were screaming the words. But you can’t be sure, it might have been a whisper. Either way he didn’t miss it, what happens next is fast, angry and delicious. 

Alastor pounces and licks the blood on your finger, something clicks inside him as he tastes the red liquid, because he lets go of his microphone instantly and his arms grab your waist aggressively, so forceful you wouldn’t be surprised if it breaks skin. You shouldn’t be so turned on by this, by the sight of a psychopathic demon drinking your blood. But you are, and there’s no going back. 

“Strip” he orders. You want to say to him that you can’t take your clothes off your person with him holding you like this. He must have realized the conundrum: if he wants you naked, he has to let go of you. To Alastor, letting go of you right now is simply unthinkable. So he doesn’t: you feel his claws cut the bodice of your dress open, sending the most delicious shivers down your spine. Another claw rips your skirt apart, and you are almost fully naked in the Radio Demon’s arms, pressing your body hard on his still impeccable dressed body.

It’s humiliating, it’s dangerous, it’s hot, it is delicious, to be at his complete mercy, just how you always wanted.

Somehow both of you made your way close to the enormous bed in the middle of the room. Alastor cornered you, so the only way you could escape was walking backwards towards the bed. The brilliant bastard. 

You feel your calves hitting the edge of the bed, and Alastor breaks away.

 Pity, your mind complains. Get him back to touching you again. right. now,.

“Now now, we should establish some rules for this, pet” Alastor’s hands might have stopped touching you, but his piercing eyes never did. He knocks you on top of the bed, you lay there sprawled open just for him. His hands move up to do a quick work of his bowtie

“Rule one: you will take what I give you. Nothing more, nothing less. What I give you is enough. You might feel like you can’t take anymore, but you can. You will take it, I will make you take it” He takes his tailcoat off, his frame towering over you, even with your body completely flat on the mattress and his in front of it. 

“ Rule two: every ounce of your pleasure is mine and mine only. Mine to give, mine to take. And you will give me everything. I want to hear every sound, to feel every touch, to know every nasty thought that runs inside that pretty little head of yours. You will not suppress anything, I wanna hear your moans when you make a mess of yourself as I take everything I desire from your delicious body. I will relish on your desperate screams of pleasure.Nothing outside these walls matter” He is climbing on the bed now. You hold the weight of his gaze, underneath your demonic lover’s eyes your skin burns.

“Rule three: don’t you dare cum without my permission, good girls earn their orgasms and you will be a good girl. Or else…” static starts to pick up around the room, you are seeing the blackest black that ever was, his shadows enveloping you both. Nothing outside these walls matter. “Understood?” Alastor says as he pins your hands on top of your head, against the fancy headboard. His hand cups one of your boobs and he is worrying your nipple between his sharp claws. finally finally, your mind sings. You feel a surge of magic binding your wrists in green chains, attached to the headboard. It’s overbearing, it’s ridiculous. His magic feels like him, another part of him for you to take.

He pinches your nipple particularly hard and you moan softly, pleasure and pain consuming any other sensation. You forgot to answer him, you realize. You’ve barely started and you are already being bad. “yes alastor, yes.. but please don’t stop” the soft whimper leaves your lips.

“lovely.” he replies, and with that his mouth is on your nipple, sucking it while he administers his wicked ministrations to your other one. His sharp teeth prickling on the edge of breaking skin, and you already feel like you won’t be able to take all of him. 

His hand trails down to aggressively grip your thighs, his tongue sucking the neglected nipple his fingers left. Your moans become frequent and messy, if he’s already making you go insane with the beginnings of foreplay... You might pass out and die when he starts fucking you, but you don’t care. Let him show you the true meaning of la petite mort.

“My my, what do we have here” his hand leaves your thigh to trace the wetness of your panties. A clawed finger rips it apart, the last barrier between you and total consumption by the Radio Demon. He takes the finger between your glistening lips, not entering, just teasing 

“I don’t think i will get enough of this pretty little body of ours anytime soon, pet” he says as his finger finally enters your sex, He moves his digit with an expertise you didn’t really know he had in him,  making you whimper his name, ooohs and aaaahs, your hips start threshing from the pleasure. If you continue at this pace, you will be  begging for permission to cum too soon. Pathetic. you think to yourself. Because you know how hard this building orgasm will be,you don’t know if he will grant you more than one orgasm. And will you murder you yourself if you don’t feel his cock inside you tonight. You take a deep breath in between your moans and will your hips to stay in place, your nerves to calm down. 

Alastor adds another finger, and it takes all of your willpower not to become a puddle of wetness right there. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood. 

“you do make a mess of yourself, don’t you? you just can’t help it” he says as he curls his digits inside you. Your hips start thrashing hard again, and you sink them deeper into the bed. The chains on your wrists shake with the effort to hold back. As if alastor wasn’t going to notice. “no no no what did I say?” he snaps angrily, he’s eyes flash red at you and he takes his fingers out with a wet “pop”, you feel like crying at the emptiness. “please please alastor, don’t stop” you plead. His hands leave you entirely, you are left with just his piercing gaze, the one that makes your skin burn. “did I say you could hold back? don’t pretend like you aren’t a common whore for me, that you love how pathetic it feels that you are creaming yourself and we haven’t even really started” 

his condescending tone just makes everything even more sublime. It’s so wrong how good being told you are nothing more than a common whore by the Radio Demon feels. But you never felt anything close to this. “please Alastor” you beg again, nothing but a small whisper

“I would love to taste this pussy, so red already for me, but since you broke one of the rules… i’m afraid I will make you understand that are nothing but my pretty cockslut the hard way” 

Punishment? His punishment sounds ever better than his praise right now. You moan at his voice. He laughs. 

His knees cage you, as he lifts his upper body from you and starts undoing his zipper. He is taking his cock out. Oh fuck, he’s gonna fuck you without anymore foreplay. And he’s not going to be gentle about it either. You shiver. 

Alastor pumps himself a few times, his cock is big, thick, and an angry red shade, flush red like that, because of you, just for you. He’s gonna make you pay: pay for holding back from him, pay for making him feel like an animal and almost losing his hard constructed control. 

The look on his face says it all, he’s gonna take it out on you and you can’t do nothing about it.

You don’t have much time to think about the repercussions, in one swift motion his tip is already inside you, stretching you deliciously. Your brain short circuits again, the feeling of his cock inside you is everything you imagine and more. Depraved, heavenly, delicious. You struggle in your binds again, you want desperately to touch him. To feel his skin beneath your finger, to scratch him, mark him. But oh well, he’s the Radio Demon, he’s the one in charge and you are his prey.

Alastor starts to slowly enter you, he’s trying his best to hold back. He knows if he does this too fast it will hurt in a way he doesn’t want you to feel. And by the look on his face going slow is as torturous for him as it is for you. tantalizing inch after tantalizing inch he spreads the walls of your cunt apart. You understand now why this is punishment, it hurts in a perfect way, it hurts even more that he is doing it slowly, and not just thrusting like you imagined  he would, if he had more time to work on you. 

You become a mess of moans and incoherent words. His cock is halfway inside you now “HoLY FUCK ALASTOR” you scream. It’s already too much. 

“There’s nothing holy about this my dear. I’m going to breed you. I’m going to break you” and with that he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Now you truly scream in pleasure and pain “you won’t be able to walk straight for days, you will feel me in every step, and you will thank me for it”. His thrusts pick up at breakneck speed, the bed shakes from the sheer force that Alastor is using to fuck you. Every snap of his hips you moan more and more. 

The sound you make when he takes everything out and enters you at once is so obscene that it would make Angel Dust blush. He’s growling now, his antlers growing bigger as he fucks you like his life dependend on it. As he fucks you like he hates you. 

Alastor pushes your hips higher, and suddenly he’s even deeper. His other hand holding your waist in a bruising grip. The strain on your pinned hands will bruise too. His lips graze the skin of your collarbone, he looks so feral you are scared he will maul, the thrill of not knowing adding to your fucked up sense of pleasure. 

He seems to pick up on your fear, and bites down on your collarbone, hauling as he tastes your blood and buries himself inside you again and again. Moans turned into screams, and the only thing coming out of your lips is his name, spoken like a profane prayer. You would give everything you have to Alastor, and he doesn’t even have to ask.

Your orgasm has been building for a while now, the coil on your belly becoming tighter and tighter, like a supernova about to be born. “Alastor, please please let me come” you beg. His unfocused eyes stare down at you, as he takes a moment from feasting on your sweet blood to address your desperate, sweet pleas.

“Don’t. You. Dare” he says, punctuating every word with a sharp thrust. As much as you want, you are not sure you will be able to hold any longer. “I beg you alastor, please let me cum, i will let you do anything you want. but i need it so badly, please please”

You sounded so desperate when you begged, so beautiful.

“Don’t strike deals you don’t know you can fulfill, pet” his voice is low, a warning. You ignore it. “I promise Alastor, anything”. Alastor laughs.

 his finger touches your clit as he finally allows your sweet relief “you may come now, sweet doe” and that’s it, you are off, you are dead. You see stars, you see the entire universe as you scream out and climax. Walls tightening around Alastor’s monster cock, eyes rowling, his name a scream on your lips. You ride out your wave slowly, but Alastor is not slowing down.

Instead he is picking up his pace, maneuvering your hips even higher, your chains are stretched to the limit. You can feel them start piercing your skin. Thrust after thrust the sensation becomes too much, you are too overstimulated to go through all of this again.

“i can’t take it, i can’t take it!”

Alastor doesn’t care. “I told you not to make deals if you can’t hold them, didn’t I?” You don’t answer, you can’t. you can’t to anything but let him fuck you as hard and as much as he want. “but you are such a little cockslut for me that you can’t help it. What a shame” 

He is gripping your hips so hard it breaks skin, tiny trails of blood on his claws. “you will take it. You better take it, or I will make you take it” static picks up as he threatens the last words. You know you are spent, you know how bad it hurts, you know how bad his words sound, but the lines between pleasure and pain are so blurred that you can’t think coherently. Even this  pain of being broken feels good. 

Still, tears fill your eyes and you start crying, from pleasure, from pain, you don’t know anymore. What Alastor is doing to you has no precedent. No one can do this like he does. He knows torture too well, and he is tortouring you in the most decadent, delicious ways possible. “alastor i want to, i want to so bad but i just can’t” the tears sting your eyes and stain your face. 

Alastor sees it. He slows down just a bit, his voice softening “oh my dear doe, but you can. Just this once more, just for me. One more” his voice is so maddening soft it acts like fuel to your tears. Your skin tingles and you feel giddy, somehow your throbbing hot, wet cunt seems to find the right amount of relief, and you can feel only pleasure again.

Alastor continues to fuck you, your moans returning to normal, you are being so loud now, making a mess of yourself, just like he said, and a big hand comes to cover your mouth. 

“Oh we can’t have you being this loud can we?” his voice goes to that delicious mocking tone. His thrusts are slower now, but as deep as they can go. “what would you friends say if they found out that you moan like a common whore for their feared radio demon.. hum,.?”

You start to feel the pit of your belly tightening again, and alastor doesn’t stop humiliating you. The degradation feels just the right amount of perfection. You are exactly what he says you are. A common whore when it comes to him. “weren’t you ashamed just a few moments ago? trying to hold back the sinful sounds you make when I touch you? I already gave you one orgasm. I’ve been way too generous for my liking. I should stop right now since you feel so conscious about this”  Alator’s breathing is becoming erratic, his thrusts sharp, hard, and out of the breakneck rhythm he was torturing you before.You start moaning even louder through his hand. “ungrateful little pet. You are just so greedy for one more orgasm, you don’t even care that everyone downstairs can hear you hm??”

You can’t think straight. you feel on the edge of glory, this orgasm threatening to be harder than your previous one, as if it is possible. “alastor i’m so sorry, i know i don’t deserve it” you muffle behind his hand, he hears you speaking and takes if off “but can you please let me cum? just this once? just for you. Please Al” his thrusts are truly erratic now. He’s close too, even though you are too wrapped up on your own sensations to notice 

“please” you beg, nothing more than a whisper. Already making peace with the fact that you are going to come without his permission and he will probably never fuck you again

“Good girl, you can come now”

instantly as you are granted his permissions your world explodes, blinding hot pleasure takes over your body, the waves of pleasure making your heart beat so fast you feel like it’s going to stop. The petit mort is coming, and her sweet embrace envelops you, specially now that you feel Alastor’s cock twitching and spilling his seed inside you. You scream his name. Maybe you hear him screaming yours too. You don’t know anymore, your nerves are singing from pleasure unheard of back  when you were alive. Pleasure so great it could only be found in hell. The most heavily, depraved way of torture. 

You come down from your high, still dizzy, your body going limp. You are not dead, but you are positively spent. You give in into the warm and fuzziness of sleep. 

The last thing you remember is the softness of a blanket, a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Oh my dear, I knew you had one more on you,spending yourself this way just for me! What a truly precious thing, doe”

You might be dreaming now.

-

You weren’t dreaming. Alastor praises you, knowing his words will be the last thing you hear before a night of peaceful, deep dreamless slumber. He makes sure to put the softest velvet blanket he owns on your body, not to make the damage you gladly allowed your body to take for him an inconvenience. Tomorrow you will wake up to fancy letters of praise and sweet chocolate covered strawberries. And no one will know how Alastor found the perfect doe to breed as he pleases during the height of his mating season.

[hyperfixatedbastard]

how to get the First Man™ out of bed

Soft!Adam x GN!Reader

Turns out the 'First Man' himself is actually super clingy. And he is a big baby when it comes to getting up in the mornings. Good luck convincing him to get his ass outta bed!

Word Count: 1.1k

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, implied sexual content, withholding sex, kissing (it's still SFW!)

A/N: Here is the Adam x Reader fluff, finally! I didn't mean for this to have so much sex-adjacent content but I think that's just too integral to Adam's character lmao. It's still SFW though so it's fineee. I didn't mean for the 'withholding sex' part to be manipulative, it's all fun n' games here, so apologies if it comes across as too serious. (It was originally 'one week', not 'one day' - I changed it just in case lol)

Dividers

Beneath the douchebag exterior of the First Man™, Adam’s really just a big ol’ softie. Just deep, deep, deep down. It took a long time to find that part of him, but as his partner, you’re one of the only people that even knows this side of him exists.

One thing you really hadn’t expected from the man is how clingy he can get—it probably has something to do with the abandonment issues, but you’ve never tried to broach that subject. It’s currently early in the morning, and Adam doesn’t seem to plan on letting go of you anytime soon. You’re cuddled up with him in bed, his mask and robes absent as he sleeps. His wings are wrapped around you like a protective blanket. And now you have to try and convince his stubborn ass to get the fuck up. You’ve already been awake for about fifteen minutes, hoping your boyfriend will wake up on his own, but of course, that’s not going to happen. 

Getting Adam out of bed is always a struggle. Despite the promotion of Heaven as the ‘perfect place’ with ‘no bad days,’ there’s still a schedule to abide by, and angels still need sleep. And Adam really hates those damn schedules, and loves his beauty sleep. There are a multitude of ways to try and get him out of bed, and every morning is a guessing game to see which one will work.

1. Be sweet and try to gently encourage him to get out of bed.

“Adam, babe,” you murmur softly, opting for a gentle approach this time around. You pat his arms where they’re wrapped securely around your waist—you would try to get a look at his face, but he’s spooning you from behind and giving you absolutely zero wiggle room. “You gotta get up, we have shit to do.”

“Mm…fuck off,” Adam grumbles, only tightening his hold on you and nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck. Which was about what you expected.

2. Be a little assertive.

“Adam, c’mon,” you warn in an attempt to convince him to get the fuck up. “I’ve already given you an extra fifteen minutes.”

“Then gimme fifteen more,” he insists, his voice sounding almost whiny. His childishness would be adorable if you didn’t actually have shit to do today. 

3. Be a little more assertive.

You sigh. It’s never easy with this asshole. “Adam.”

The angel in question makes a little ‘mmpf’ sound into your back.

“Get the fuck up.”

He doesn’t even respond this time—he just holds you tighter, his wings copying his arms and trapping you in his embrace.

4. Bribery.

Actually, fuck no. You refuse to bribe him again. He’s already gotten that out of you several times before, getting anything from sex to food to picking what movie you two watch that night (you’ve watched Die Hard three times this week alone)

No, this is a game you are not losing this time.

5. Threats.

“Okay, you’ve got three options,” you offer, your voice less stern than your last attempt but not as soft as your first. “One: you get up.”

Adam makes another noncommittal little grunt of acknowledgment.

“Two: you don’t get up, and Lute breaks into our apartment again to drag your ass out of bed.”

He lets out a sound that sounds kind of like a chuckle, but it’s muffled against the back of your neck, so it’s hard to tell. But he’s clearly not intimidated by the warning.

“Three: you don’t get up and we don’t fuck tonight.”

That gets him. He tenses up for a moment before scoffing in disbelief. “Yeah, right, like you could go a day without this dick.”

A smirk pulls at your lips. You’ve got him now. “Try me.”

Adam’s silent for nearly a full minute. He has a much higher libido than you, and he knows you’d be fine without sex for a day. Him, on the other hand? He’s got a high sex drive and is downright spoiled. 

You’re worried he’s fallen back asleep, but eventually, he sighs. His wings unfurl and his grip around you loosens, though not letting go entirely. “Fineee,” he groans dramatically. “But only because I don’t wanna deprive you of my amazing dick.”

You chuckle and turn to face him, now that you have the ability to actually move. His hair’s all messy, as it usually is, and his golden eyes are just barely cracked open. 

“Oh, how generous of you,” you joke, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He instinctively pushes his face into your palm ever so slightly. 

“I know, I’m fucking great,” he agrees, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He knows you were being sarcastic, but he’ll turn damn near anything into a compliment that strokes his ego.

You just roll your eyes at his response, albeit fondly. He’s a dumbass, but he’s your dumbass.

“Alright, you big baby, time to get up,” you tease, moving to sit up before his arms tighten around you once more, pulling you back down.

“Hey—” you start, but are immediately cut off by a pair of lips on yours. His lips move slowly and languidly along with yours, and you’re all too happy to reciprocate.

You sigh into the kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling against Adam’s lips. There’s a big difference between your usual hungry, eager make-outs and the sweet, lazy kisses you get when he’s all soft and sleepy. Both are great, but you really savor these tender, gentle moments with him. In the mornings, he’s too tired to keep up that arrogant ‘too cool for all that mushy, affectionate shit’ persona. And while you love him all the time, sleepy Adam definitely holds a special place in your heart.

He’s smiling when he lets you pull away. The kiss wasn’t a particularly long one, but you could’ve let it go on forever. But you’d be one hell of a hypocrite if you stayed in bed just to kiss your boyfriend after making such a point to get his ass out of bed.

“Now are you ready to get up?” you ask softly, still basking in the warmth of his embrace and the memory of his lips on yours.

“Mm…” Adam hums in consideration. His smile quickly turns to a smirk as he tightens his hold on you yet again and wraps his wings around you. “No.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Needless to say, you do not stay true to your word about the consequences of Adam not getting out of bed. And Lute does, in fact, break into your apartment half an hour later to be confronted with a sight she sees far too often for her liking. 

Fuck him for being so damn stubborn. Literally.

Taglist - @3sire-777

[soosavy69]

No refunds~

Sebastian x Fem! Reader

Minors DNI, This one's long but it does have smut in it. :)

Tw: Smut (obvi), crying, praise, slight degrading, cockwarming

Being forced to kill The Saboteur was not the situation you would expect to find yourself in. To put it simply, Sebastian was a huge pain in the ass for everyone at Urbanshade. From causing the lockdown to releasing all those monsters. That's why you were sent down to kill him.

The higher ups had disguised you as a prisoner, yearning for her freedom. They said you were a convincing actor, thus was the perfect woman for the job. Only armed with a gun, you made your way through the facility.

'This thing can't be that hard to kill.' You made your way through the doors, each step nervous. Strangely, no monsters appeared to try and kill you. Not even those wall dwellers the prisoners described. To be honest, you kinda felt bad for them.

Trapped in an eternal damnation, dying an infinite number of times before they succeeded. Seemed like hell to you. And if you truely being honest, you didn't wanna kill Sebastian either. An innocent guy convicted and experimented on. You had to find a way out of this.

You approached door '053' sliding the thin blue keycard into the slot. It slid open with a beep, and a light illuminated a small vent on the wall. Walking a few steps in, it flew open and slid into the abyss. "Stranger, over here." A deep voice called out to you. This had to be your target.

Army crawling your way through the vent was uncomfortable to say the least. It made you claustrophobic with all the dust. It obviously hadn't been cleaned in a while. You crawled out the other side a got up, coughing and dusting off your pants.

"Ah, fresh meat. Welcome! My name is Sebastian. Don't worry i'm not going to hurt you." He flicked on his angler light and smiled down at you, clasping his hands together. "I'm here to help you acutally. I've set up a shop for you. You can just pick the items off my tail." He pointed to the large sacks strapped to his snake tail, "As long as you have enough data of course."

You unzipped your suit silently and pulled out a small file. He smile never fading. You looked down and flipped it open, holding it up so both the page and Sebastian were visible. Perfect match. You put the file back.

You sigh and grap at your gun holster, slipping the weapon out of it's holder and aiming right between his eyes. But he didn't flinch. "No need to be hostile friend. I'm here to help." Your hands seemed shakey, mostly from being nervous. "I'm sorry, I have to do this. They're making me."

He looked down at the gun. "Hm, those bastards finally want me dead, hm?" You nod slowly. "Let me guess," He clears his throat and says in his best announcer voice, "Failure to terminate the target will result in immediate execution. Correct?" You nod again, your shakey hands make the gun feel like it's made of lead.

"You can put that down. It's not going to do much." He leans down and moves your aim with a hand. You flinch, closing your eyes. "I'm not going to kill you. And you don't want to kill me, right?" You open your eyes and meet his. "No..." You mumble.

He chuckles, "No need to be so scared hun. I'm not going to hurt you." You lower the gun and put it back in it's holster. "There we go." Two hands wrap around your waist and lift you up, bringing you on his lap. He gently rubs your back, the action soothing you more than you care to admit.

You sniffle quietly as tears start coming. And once they come, they don't stop. You lean into his chest and just sob. "I'm just... so scared." You whimper out. He nods, listening silently. "I-I don't want to die. But I don't want to kill you either." He removes your diving kit, and uses a screw driver to deactivate your RGP device. A hand comes to hold you against his chest as he undos his belts holding his supplies.

"I'll find a way for us to survive. I promise. But you'll have to wait. Those assholes can't kill you." He holds the device in a claw and smirks. You return his smirk with a soft smile. His other hand comes up and wipes your tears away. "There's just one thing you have to do for me. Okay?" You nod.

"I need supplies to sell to prisoners. However it is... difficult, to get those supplies because of my size. I would like you to go out and collect those items for me." He then holds your chin in his hand. "If your lucky, you may get a reward." Blush creeps up your cheeks from you shoulders, and you look away.

"What about the monsters?" He frowns lightly "They don't attack me because I freed them. It doesn't help that your wearing a prison uniform." He taps a claw on his chin in thought. "How about you show them the card I used? I still have it." His hand digs into his coat pocket and fishes out the card. "They will think that you helped. And thus won't kill you. Sound fair?"

You stare at the keycard and nod. "Okay." You swing your legs over and hop of him. "Go get em' tiger." He chuckles. You smile and crawl out of the vent. Standing back up and looking at the keycard, you notice little specs of blood overlaying the gold. You grimice and wipe of the blood with your suit.

'What the hell happened here?'

Your suit allowed you to carry a multitude of stuff without slowing your movements. Your footsteps echo around the hall as you make your way back to Sebastian. The door opens and then you see it. A shark with hundreds of green eyes. It's pull is intoxicating, your head seems to move on it's own, forcing you to look at the shark and you panic.

The card. The card! You fumble for it, putting a hand over your eyes. The shark's smile is engraved in your brain. You fish in your pocket and pull it out, showing it to the shark. The pull stops as soon as it came.

Bit by bit, your hand comes away from your face. "Oh. I'm sorry. I thought you were human. I thought you were here to hurt me again." A honey sweet voice rings out from beyond the glass. You gasp lightly. "I would never hurt you." The shark's smile widens.

"I like you. You are like Sebastian. Sorry for trying to hurt you." It's eyes scan over your features. "It's okay. What's your name?" You smile at her. "My name? I don't know... The scientists call me Eyefestation. You can call me that." You nod. "Okay. Bye." She smiles and swims away.

A shiver runs up your spine as you continue staring out the glass. Shaking your head and slapping your cheeks, you continue on back to Sebastian. Door '052' greets you in red writing and you smile, oddly looking foward to seeing the fish again.

You army crawl your way in the vent again and stand up, looking at his cyan eyes in the dark. "Ah. Your back. I was beginning to think you'd died or something." He pulls on the angler light, and it flickers on. It casts his face in a pretty warm glow, showing off his dark freckles.

You were basically gawking at him, looking over his pretty face. "You gonna get staring at me or are you going to show me what you got?" He chuckles. You shake your head again and empty your pockets of supplies. He peers down, crossing his arms. "Hm. Pretty good." You look up at him expectingly. "What, you want your reward?" He smiles, showing off his teeth.

You blush and look away, nodding slightly. He laughs. "Of course." Playfully rolling his eyes -at least to the best of his ability-. He gathers the supplies and places them on the shelves on the side of the room. "All right then. On your knees for me." You're taken aback slightly, but do as your told. "Good girl." He slithers behind you, putting a hand to your back and forcing you on all fours.

"Heh, you like this don't you? Dirty girl." You blush. The sound of rustling comes from behind you as he takes off his coat, folding it and laying it down infront of you. Your fingers brush over the leather and you smile faintly. "May I?" You feel his claw tap your suit.

"Mhm." You nod. "Good girl." He uses and hand to hold you flush against his pelvis, unzipping your suit. A white shirt and a bra lay underneath. He makes quick work of those, slipping off your shirt and unclipping your bra swiftly. His touch returns to your chest and he pinches your nipple, massaging your breast in his hand.

"Good girl." You whimper quietly and hold onto his arm. The heat from your cheeks spreads to between your legs. He leans you down on your arms, hand exploring your ass and clothed slit. "I need your permission sweetheart." He traces the elastic of your pants.

"Please." You whimper pathetically. "Such a good girl, begging for me." He pulls down your pants and underwear, letting them pool at your knees. He spreads open your folds and chuckles. "You really like this, hm?" You hide your face in your arms.

He smiles and starts rubbing your clit, circling the sensitive bud with a claw. Pleasure racks up your spine and you whimper. His touch is rough, pushing you into the floor. He slowly enters your hole, your walls clenching around him. "S-Seb." He groans. "Yes?" He draws out the word. "You like this?" You huff and moan into his jacket. a small 'mhm' is heard, muffled by the leather.

A second claw joins the first, and your back arches, your toes curling. Another hand grabs your waist as he speeds up his pace slightly. A knot forms in your belly, your moans becoming more audible to him. His pinky reaches lower and rubs your clit again, bringing you to your climax.

This one felt different however, more wet. You suddenly realized you were squirting on him. "You really must've liked that. Heh." He brings his finger to his mouth and sucks your slick off of them. "Delicious." He groans. He pant into the jacket and grip it tightly. "Tired already? We're not done sweetheart. After all... You did so good for me~"

You huff and he chuckles. His first hand retreats and is replaced by a writhing tentacle. He ruts against your clit and you whine. You feel his hot breath on your neck as he leans down, "You gonna take it like a good girl?" You nod. His cock adjusts, circling your hole. "Good girls get rewards."

He suddenly thrusts into you and your eyes roll back into your head. He spears you open on him, his other hand wraps around your chest and brings you flush to him. "Be nice and loud for me, okay?" He hilts inside of you and you whine. He pulls out slowly, the emptiness inside you slowly being filled by him. Just him.

His other hands come to the floor and he roughly thrusts back in, the lewd slap of his pelvis on your ass making you blush more. "There we go. Just let go for me, hm?" You moan pathetically into his grip. His cock hitting all the right spots inside of you. "So tight for me. All for me." He growls in your ear and you cry out.

Your slick coats him, making it easier for him to slide in and out of you. He groans, claws scrapping against the floor. His tail slaps against wall with a large thump. You look over but he redirects your gaze, using a hand to make you look at him. "Eyes on me sweetheart." He huffs out.

His cocks spurts a bit and you clench around him. "So good. Such a good girl." He rambles and trails down to your neck, biting down hard with his sharp teeth. Your mouth drops open in a silent cry. He pushes you back onto him roughly, his cock reaching the spot that makes you scream. Your orgasm washings over you with deafening force.

"Hn. Almost there. You're doing so good." Overstimulation crashing down on you suddenly and you fall limp onto the floor. He growls and pushes into you, filling you completely. It's quiet for a bit, the only sound being your whimpers and pants mixed with his.

He shifts a bit and rests against the wall, lifting you up and twisting you around. You're set down on his cock again and moan. "Seb-" He leans down and kisses you, his tongue filling your mouth. You moan against him and he pulls away. "Shh darling, no need to say anything." His signature smirk returns and you smile.

"There we go. Good girl." Exhaustion creeps up on you, sleep pulling you deep into it's clutches. "Sleepy? Go ahead." He grabs his jacket and lays it over you, the warmth pulling you into a deep sleep.

Raugh. Finally done. Sorry if it's shit. I'm tired. :P



[spermeboy]

pairings: steve rodgers x male reader

request: Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, was found by the male reader and not a shield. Male readers help Steve come to terms with the past and get him situated to the present. Throughout the process, Steve grows to have feelings for male reader, which leads to their first date and a night of fun. Where they both lose their virginity.

warnings: SMUT ! , swearing, anal sex.

MDNI + FDNI !

You aren't sure how you ended up in this situation, but you had a famous war superhero from the 1940s in your backseat. You didn't want to take him to the hospital, in case they took him to a lab and began to test on him and you didnt want someone like Nick Fury to get ahold of him, because you knew he would exploit him and force him to go onto missions and risk his life, so I guess that's how you ended up in this situation.

His body just laid across your back seat, and your eyes gaze off the road and towards the man in the back. You admired his bulging biceps as they were almost tearing out of his shirt, his wet shirt to be exact! it clings to his abs. You dart your eyes back to the road to make sure you don't crash and die. Once you reach home, you manage to get Steve's body inside after a LOT of trial and error.

You gently lay his body down against your guest room bed. You slowly peel his soaked top off his body to reveal his rippling six-pack and his soft pink nipples, "Wow, this guy must have been sculpted by gods" You blush slightly before leaving the room, closing the door quietly.

THE NEXT MORNING

You lay down in your bed staring up at the wall, thinking about how there is a soilder from the '40s in your guest bedroom. Where do you even go from here? There isn't a manual book that teaches you how to help someone who hasn't aged since 1945. If he ends up staying with you long-term, you're going to have to start teaching him the modern language, how to use modern appliances, all of this stuff.

You head out of your bedroom and walk into your living room, where you find a confused and naked Steve Rodgers. "Steve?..." You mumble quietly, worried to set him off. He turns around and reveals the full package to you. "Where am I? and who are you?" Steve asked curiously and with slight concern in his voice. Your eyes trail from his perfect pecs down to his rippling abs to his 9 inched, veiny, meaty cock.

His eyes dart down and his hands immediately cover his cock and he blushes "heh, sorry about that." He laughs slightly before being quiet. "I found you while I went out exploring, and I was worried if I took you to a hospital, they would start running tests on you like you weren't a person" you say while making eye contact with him, he feels a warmth in his heart that you just filled. "Thank you for saving me." A smile creeps up onto Steve's face, which causes you to blush.

You start to show Steve around your house and telling him what everything is or at least the more modern things. You had to teach his how to use a mobile phone, where you showed him all of the different apps. He really felt connected to angry birds.

THE DATE

This whole date situation just kind of fell into your lap, Steve wanted to find a way to thank you after you taught him how to adapt to the modern world over the course of a couple months, so he came up with the idea of taking you out for dinner. Except you had to plan it all for him since he still didn't fully wrap his head around how to use a computer.

Since Steve hasn't quite worked out how to drive stick, you decided it would be for the better if you drove. The whole time while you were driving, Steve had his large hand placed on your thigh, moving it back and forth gently. Your heartbeat picked up the pace.

You parked the car outside the restaurant and turned to face Steve. You both have a warm smile from ear to ear on your face. "Let's head inside, then Cutie," Steve says, which causes the blush on your skin to intensify.

Once you are both finally seated, at a candle sit dinner, you can't take your eyes off each other. You stare at his chiselled jawline. You admire the way he spoke and the way he contorted his mouth. Each movement of his caused you to fall harder for him. He could ask you to do anything, and you would do it. "I am really thankful that you saved me." He says while staring at you lovingly, "I am really thankful you came into my life" you stretch your hand to hold his.

You both ate your food, paid, and went back to the car to drive, once you got home... that's when the fun truly began.

VIRGINITY LOSSED

You unlocked the door, and you both stumbled inside, not taking your lips off each other. "I am going to show you how much I am thankful for you." Steve says while lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist, laying you down against the couch. He tears your shirt off to reveal your body, and he begins to devour your body, running his tongue along your body as he begins to suck on your nipples.

You begin to breathe heavily and mumble some moans "wait wait! slow down." You say as Steve pulls away from you." Am I doing something wrong?" His face contorts while looking down at you. "I'm.... I'm a virgin." You say while looking up at him, Steve laughs slightly before smirking. "So am I"

Steve continues to kiss up your body. Before pulling away to unbuckle his belt, to get out his semi-hard shaft. You stare at it, and your hole pulsates.

"Fuck" you gasped out as your mouth hangs open, Steve smirks as he enjoys how flustered you've become. "Do you want to... um... suck it?" Steve asks nervously. He sits down, and you go onto your knees between his legs. "I'll be honoured to, Steve."

You wrap your hand around the base of his thick shaft. You give it a few jerks before leaning down to swirl your tongue around his tip, slurping up all of his delicious pre-cum. He grabs your head, pushing you down to the base. "Awh! Fuck" he moans out, soaking in all of the pleasure. Your eyes water and your jaw aches, but you will stop at nothing to give him the best pleasure ever. You feel his cock twitch in your throat to indicate that he is close, so you pull away with a pop.

"Wait, no! Don't stop!" Steve pleads and begs with you while you strip off in front of him. You climb on top, straddling him. You place you hand on his cock lining it up with your hole. He nods at you to show he's ready, so you begin to slide down onto his shaft. "AH!" You begin to whimper at the slight pain but Steve begins to kiss your neck to help ease it.

Once he is finally balls deep inside you, you both pause for a moment. He lets you get used to his large size, rest your head on his shoulder while he gently thrusts into your tight hole. He begins to breathe heavily. "fuckk." he lays his head back while he grips your ass thrusting gently into you.

"...faster." You moan while kissing his neck, "Okay baby, I'll speed up." Steve begins to speed up his thrusting, his balls slapping against you. Steve pulls you into a kiss while his hand travels down to jerk you off. His hand goes back and forth, his thumb rubbing your tip. You moan into the kiss while his tongue dominates your mouth, "mhm" you moan.

His thrusts continue to hit your sweet spot, his tip constantly rubbing against it, causing you to unleash sultry moans. "AH! S-Steve, I'm close. " You moan out as Steve continues to jerk you off harder while thrusting into you.

You shoot your load onto Steve's abs, He pulls you into a kiss while he paints your walls, coating them in his cum. You both moan into the kiss as you ride out your high.

THE AFTER CARE

You both clean each other up while laying next to each other, embracing eachothers warmth. "I'm so happy I met you, Steve." you say while running your hands through his hair. "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me!" Steve mumbles while blushing.

You both lay there for the rest of the night, cuddling and embracing each other.

Steve whispers into your ear, "Will you be my boyfriend?" He asks. You wraps your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. "Of course I will!" You blush and pull him tightly towards your body.

[satoruhour]

a/n: IM HERE IM JERE SORRY FOR GOING AWOL

wc: 1.6k

warnings: dom!geto, fem!reader, infidelity / cheating, reader is a teacher, oral / cunnilingus, semi exhibitionist sex, fingering, clit stimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex although geto pulls out, praise, he calls you ’slut’ once, n*sfw under the cut

“g-geto-san!” your hand immediately flies to your mouth at the loud moan you let out, propped up so beautifully on the L-shaped sofa while his wife stays sleeping. you look so different than when you commanded the classroom, so pliant and perfect.

“quiet, baby.” geto mumbles against your cunt, using his stronger arms to pull your pelvis closer to him.

your — hookup? acquaintance? — wasn’t one to cheat. it’s a funny thing to say that although he’s married while he has you soaking right through to the fabric below you but his wife wasn’t that innocent either.

the love had died long ago when geto had found that she wasn’t treating mimiko and nanako right, either being rude to them or forgetting to pick them up, small things like that. she didn’t like the extra weight and burden of suguru’s single fatherhood and that already should’ve been a sign and yet he’d put a ring on her — the pussy was too good, he guesses.

until he’s enrolling the girls in classes after passing a dance school, getting to meet you as their teacher. gentle, upbeat, and just oozing with kindness. you’d even went as far to wait with the girls when geto had been late in picking them up.

the lines have blurred since then, smeared so badly to the point you forgot how you ended up on geto suguru’s couch after locking up the studio. their aunt had already picked mimiko and nanako up and you couldn’t just resist after geto said he’d want to get to know you better.

oh, he was getting acquainted just fine.

“mmfhm . .” geto hummed into your cunt, licking stripe after stripe up your folds as your juices pool on his tongue, “cunt’s the best i’ve ever tasted.”

you burned at the praise; it’s no doubt geto has had many people before you but he really did mean it. so much sweeter and intoxicating, and the little sounds you made added everything.

“geto-san . .” you mumble just before he digs in, letting you pull on his hair so his head would tilt up.

“i’m eating you out and you’re still callin’ me by my last name?” geto laughs at your stammers, “’m just kidding—”

“are you sure?” he knows you’re referring to his wife just inches away, but he only scoffs. a hand goes to your clit, thumb rubbing the nub and you whine.

“been the surest once i saw you. i was going to die getting to know you.”

you stifle a laugh, “dramatic ass.”

geto smacks your pussy lightly, loving the way you tighten around nothing. your heels dig into his back as he hovers over your core and you have to steady your breathing.

“knew it from the moment you treated my girls right . .” he trails off before latches his mouth around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue and your hips push up more into his mouth. he moans at that, securing the hold he has on your thigh. you briefly catch how his hands go down to his centre.

“t-that’s just . . the bare minimum— ah! though,” you mewl out, trying to keep your moans to a low as the man below you does not care whatsoever. he slobbers all over your cunt, juices coating the bottom of his face until it’s dripping wet.

“still.” the one word then convinces you that maybe the lady sleeping from beside you wasn’t exactly the best, but you will away the thoughts once suguru drags his tongue down to your hole and his eyes bore holes into yours. he continually nudges his tongue against your clit, the lewd slurping noises making you clench around him.

“hear yourself, pretty?” you feel the grin against your folds and all you can do is whine, “she’s just dripping, isn’t she?”

you nod mindlessly, hands shakily taking his from your thigh and moving them to your neglected entrance. “need y-your—”

geto hums and indulges you, pressing his finger right into you and you moan out loud. his wife stirs for a bit and despite everything your pussy flutters at the aspect of getting caught — suguru smiles.

“dirty slut.” he mutters against your pussy, starting to pump his finger slowly and you tug harder on his black locks. there’s so much arousal everywhere even as he eases his second finger in and the stretch is so delicious.

“s-suguru . .” you trail off, head thrown back at how much thicker and longer his fingers are, “s’good—”

“yeah?” and to your dismay his hands stop, blessed with the cute pout that graces your face and he just laughs, standing to reveal his aching bulge and you’re peeling off his underwear for him.

“wanted to feel you around me, tha’s all,” he slurs in pleasure, licking his lips when he first sees your surprised face. you look cockdrunk already, hearts forming in your pupils.

“will it fit, suguru-san?” you whisper in awe, pumping it slowly and using a finger to collect the pre-cum that’s collected. he groans softly at that.

“it will, just gotta relax for me, alright baby girl?” you nod as he gently pushes your legs up, folding you in half while his tip brushes against your sex. there, he moves his hips, collecting your arousal, just barely putting the tip in. just like his hand earlier, he slaps his cock along your folds and grins at your squeamish movements.

“goin’ in, darling,” geto whispers and pushes in slowly. he’s so focused on the way your cunt stretches, a moan sounding out from deep in his throat while you hold on tightly to his biceps. small pants leave your mouth, seeing the silhouette of his pelvis slowly descend on yours while he bottoms out.

“s-suguru— f-full!”

“that so?” geto breathlessly chuckles before he moves and he has to still his hips just to compose himself at the feeling of your walls. so warm and accommodating. “baby, you feel so damn good . .”

suguru moves soon enough and you relish in the fact how you’ve managed to get such a composed man to break — always so polite and well-mannered when picking his girls up and yet now his hair falls from his hair tie and his cock is reacts so well to your drooling cunt.

this position has geto reaching deeper into you, his thrusts already turning sloppy and he pushes down on your legs more.

“close— ’m close suguru—” you whine out and there’s a teasing comment (“already?”) that leaves his lips, but he can’t speak too when he feels his high approaching too. a man like him reduced to such a fast orgasm has him blushing and yet he can’t resist your cunt.

your hands grasp aimlessly at geto as he smoothly places your legs on his shoulder and he leans down to capture your lips — “feels good, suguru . .”

the both of you hardly care about the person on the couch, mingling moans filling the room as you whimper into the kiss. your cunt continues to clench around him, feeling every vein and shape of his cock and committing it to memory just as he is with you; he thinks he doesn’t want to fuck any pussy ever again.

“’course it feels good, it’s b’cause you’re doing so well,” geto whispers against your lips and he takes note of how praise gets you going when he can feel your pussy throb. “oh? you like that, huh?”

you whisper a soft ‘yeah’ to him and you preen at another good girl he gives you, letting him embrace you fully as he stays buried in your neck. the feeling is all too much, the friction of his pelvis and the drag of his length along your walls that you cum immediately. your cunt gushes around him, and all you can do is babble into his ear.

“that’s it, i got you,” he mumbles against your neck, soft kisses placed there as lets you ride out your orgasm, the squelching of your pussy only increasing in volume as you tremble around him.

“cumming, baby,” geto says as he twitches, one last sloppy thrust into you before he pulls out and pumps his cock with loud drawn out groans. rope after rope of cum leaves his tip, staining your stomach and pussy in white and the both of you pant in unison, small smiles on your face.

“next time i’m cumming deep inside you,” geto says even when at the corner of his eye, he can see his wife slowly coming to consciousness and the shock register on her face that he’d stoop as low as her — random guys she brings to their house exchanged for one sweet teacher with an even sweeter pussy.

and geto suguru goes right to fucking you again and drawing the most sultry moans until she stomps away with anger and slams the door so hard it might’ve come off its hinges.

there’s only a shrug from geto at your distraught expression, but he resolves it soon enough with a hand to your clit, rubbing languid circles into it that you choke out a moan.

“are you sure it’s alrig—!”

“perfectly, baby,” he takes your hand and plants a kiss to it; it’s so gentle like other times, where he’d bring you to some quiet cafe to avoid being seen, or just a simple dinner in his home and you hate how you’re already falling for a married father and still, the thrill was just too good.

suguru puts your hand around his cock and you move with second nature.

“your pussy’s much prettier and better anyway.”

[bearambles]

Okok little request if ur up for it. Just Hamzah x reader (gn if mentioned) where they have a smoke sesh together in his new apartment but reader gets too comfortable and accidentally falls asleep on Hamzah with the cats.

Just pure fluff lmaoo I just can't get the thought out of my head I need to grip his shirt like a child he just looks so comfy :')

Also idc what format it can be headcanon or a small fic, whatever u feel!!

close to you 🎀 (hamzah)

words: 1.1k

warnings: use of weed, making out, fluff, established relationship

note: hi lovelies!! im so sorry for the lack of posts recently - im on vacation and ive had no time or motivation. on the ride home though, im gonna try to catch up to requests!! and im thinking abt writing smut again 🤭

“do you wanna smoke?”

hamzahs head turns from looking at the ceiling to looking at you. he looks almost nervous, his eyes darting across your face like he did the first time he kissed you. you smile at the thought and sit up on his bed.

he’d invited you over to see his new apartment (finally). you’d ended up in his room playing with his new cats, blue and red, who seemed to take a liking to you. blue sits in your lap now, and you scratch behind her ears as you speak.

“like, a blunt?”

he stays laying down, red lying on his chest. he pets her and laughs softly.

“nah, i have a pen. but it’s the same idea.”

he raises an eyebrow, “you have smoked before, right?”

you blush, your face heating up. you look down to the kitty in your lap, and bring both legs up so they’re crossed.

“duh. just like. once or twice in high school, though. and…” you trail off.

“and?” he asks, picking up red in his arms and sitting up next to you.

“i don’t think i did it right. like, i didn’t really feel anything.” you admit

“oh okay. that’s okay. i mean like- if you don’t wanna-“

“no, i do.” you say quickly, “i just - like you’ll have to teach me i guess. that sounds stupid. but the first time was like, a bong and i totally didn’t inhale shit.”

he laughs, and the sound makes you crack a smile, even after embarrassing yourself. he’s wearing his camo hoodie, and his curls are just the perfect amount of messy. one falls into his eyes and he blushes it away with his palm.

“that’s okay, i can show you. though, i don’t know how great a teacher i’ll be.”

he places red in your lap next to blue and gets up from the bed, going to dig through his drawers for his pen. you watch the way he moves, the way his sweatshirt rides up and shows a bit of his back. the way his pants fit. you look away when you catch yourself being a creep.

he finds it and goes to sit in front of you this time, near the end of the bed. he’s closer now, his legs matching yours in a sort of lazy criss-cross. he observes the device in his hands for a second before bringing it to his lips and inhaling.

when he releases the smoke, he tilts his head up and you stare at his neck. the smoke leaves his lips slowly and quickly disappears. he looks back to you and holds it out for you to take.

“it’s gonna die soon so we can just finish it today.” he says as you grab the pen from his hand, “unless you like, go crazy after a few hits.”

you roll your eyes and look at the pen in your hand, before lifting it to your mouth. you look to him for confirmation and he nods, so you deeply inhale like you saw him do.

“okay, now inhale again, and you’ll feel it in the back of your throat.”

you do as he says and feel it - it sort of burns. after a moment you puff out your cheeks and then release the smoke, slow at first. that is until you cough, and the rest comes out.

he laughs and takes the pen from your hand.

“you okay?”

you nod, but keep coughing for a moment. sitting up, you reach your hand out again, wiggling your fingers to ask for the pen back. he raises an eyebrow at you.

“you want it again already.” you nod. “alright, but be careful, for real. don’t do too much just to impress me.”

you give him a look.

“i’m not, i swear. just, lemme try again okay?”

he hands you the pen and you take another hit, this one burning less. you feel it in your head, and you smile as you let out the smoke into his face. he waves his hand to get it away, but he’s laughing.

“thatta girl, hey, you feel good?”

“i feel great.” you say, going in to kiss him. he kisses back and leans forward, wrapping his hands around your waist. you uncross your legs and sit up on your knees.

his mouth is soft and you moan into it as he moves his hands down to the back of your legs, lifting you onto his waist. from there he moves back so he’s up against the bedframe with you in his lap.

it’s like that for the next hour - slow kisses and the pen passed between you two. neither of you suggest anything more despite your closeness (and hamzahs obvious hard-on). there’s a soft sort of feel to the moment.

“i wanna try something.” he says eventually, taking the device from your fingers and moving it to his mouth.

you look at him with curiosity and lean back slightly to watch. he pushes the smoke around in his mouth a bit before taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you close. you open your mouth to kiss him, but he stays just an inch away, and while your lips are parted, blows the smoke into your open mouth.

inhaling it, you smile against his mouth and properly kiss him. you can feel his grin forming too. he deepens the kiss and his hold on your waist tightens.

when he pulls away, his eyes dance across your face and his mouth rests in a lazy smile.

“what?” you ask, regarding his staring problem

“just so…so fuckin pretty.”

you bite your lip to hide your grin and shake your head. your hair is a mess after all that’s happened and your makeup is smeared. still, hamzah seems mesmerized.

you bury your head in his neck for him to hold you. his hoodie smells like the smoke and a bit of his cologne. you breathe in and out repeatedly, smelling him. he smells so good, so safe.

slowly you slump down to lay on his chest. on instinct, his hand reaches to play with your hair, pushing it out of your face.

it’s funny, hamzah never seemed handsy before this. you never considered him someone who likes physical touch - not with friends or even family, mostly. but with you it’s different. he didn’t expect it either, but as soon as he felt your soft skin on his, he never wanted it any other way.

the motion of him stroking your hair makes you sleepy and eventually your eyes drift closed. you sleep for hours - if you had any actual plans for the day you would wake up stressed and anxious. instead, you wake up and see his head above yours, resting against his pillow.

he’s fallen asleep too.

-

i hope you enjoyed! requests are open! >_<

[skipper19]

Imagine this...

Wade Wilson is and always will be a cocky bastard. And ever since the..upgrade, so to speak, he will always be a little crazy as well. He's also a very good observer. Most people think of Wade as more of an idiot than anything, which isn't necessarily wrong, but he's not completely ignorant either. He makes astute observations all the time.

Especially after he met you. A hobby of his includes people watching. He enjoys making guesses and hypothetical observations about people based on how they perform naturally. This became especially true after he met you. It wasn't under the best circumstances, that's for sure, but it's a story for another day. Basically, you killed him (if he could die), and he became obsessed. Simple as that.

No, it's not really because you.. incapacitated him. People are after his head on a platter all the time. It was more because you did it on accident, isn't that fun?

Wade was chasing some poor robber down the streets. Chasing is a bad word for it. He was more like following him. The poor asshole decided to steal some ladies' purse, but Deadpool happened to be nearby. The man gave chase, and Wade began to happily skip after him down the streets of New York.

He was happier than usual because Spider-Man had requested his help in New York, hence why he was there in the first place. This was unfortunate for the robber. Wade happily unsheathed his sword as the robber backed himself into the dead end of an alleyway. "Alright, macho, I've got plenty of time to teach ya some manners. 'Cause honestly, it was so rude of you to take that ladies shit. Like, you didn't even ask. I can't let you walk around with a bad attitude like that!" And his joke would have been perfect, say the line and then cut off one of his legs. But he didn't get to the punchline before a heavy metal bucket fell onto his head.

The robber didn't hesitate to take his chance and run as Wade's neck snapped, and he fell to the ground. He wheezed as he blinked, struggling to move. "Oh.. oh, this isn't fun." His voice sounded as if his lungs were being squeezed. He couldn't move anything but his eyes and mouth, so he couldn't turn his head to see who was running out of the side door to the building.

Quick footsteps approached his folded body, and he could see their feet. Or rather, their shark slippers. "Oh my god.. Oh my god. I just killed a man." The voice panicked. "Ah, don't worry about it -" but he was cut off as your foot came flying in contact with his nose. You screamed and covered your mouth, eyes wide as you eyed the man on the alleyway outside your apartment.

His neck snapped in a way that made your gut queasy, and his, now broken, nose looked funny, pointed so far to the right. Even through his odd mask, you could tell it wasn't a pretty one. You didn't mean to kick him. It just happened! You thought he was dead, and then he talked, and he sounded so casual that a natural fight or flight picked up in your brain and...well yeah.

..now you're dragging him into your apartment elevator. He was heavy, and you couldn't tell if it was because of his suit and armor or because of his own body weight. It was probably both. Luckily, the landlord just recently got the elevators fixed. You might have given up the moment you saw the stairs if they were the only option.

Now you were really doubting your decision as you stared down at this masked man on your couch. Basic respect kept you from pulling up his mask, and anxiety kept you wondering if the couch was too uncomfortable. You then had to remind yourself that you broke his fucking neck before dragging him up here. A deep sigh escaped your lungs, and you moped to the kitchen.

It didn't take long for your cup of coffee to brew, and you hummed in delight as you smelt the beverage. It may have been too late for caffeine, but you really needed a pick me up after the day you were having.

"Oh damn, I love that brand! Can I have some?" Wade's voice startled you, and your glass slipped from your hands. Hot coffee poured down the front of your cotton shirt, and you gasped in pain before dropping the mug. The noticeable cracking of the mug slipped your mind as you hastily pulled your soaked shirt away from your skin. You did NOT need to be burned on top of everything today.

Wade kissed his teeth and held a fist up to his mouth, tilting his head as if he had been the one burnt. "Ah, fuck, really didn't mean to scare ya toots." Ironic, you thought to yourself. It was way past that point after breaking his neck and-

.. wait, he looked fine. No, that's impossible. Surely you just couldn't see him properly because of the dim lights in your kitchen. Or maybe it was because of his suit. Oh! Perhaps you were dreaming, and all of this was a big nightmare.

"Uhm..nope, I'm very real princess." Wade's voice cut through the tense silence. After a few more seconds of staring at him, your eyes rolled back, and you stumbled to the floor. Wade wasn't even slightly fazed by this. He's had worse reactions to a first meeting with a stranger.

"And you haven't even seen my face yet, sweetness." He mumbled as he kneeled down next to you. He debated on what to do for a few seconds before huffing and shrugging his shoulders an 'oh well.' He stood back to his feet and opened your cabinet to find a clean mug. "Ohh~ I haven't had good coffee in ages!" He spoke to your unconscious form in excitement, pouring the hot liquid into the yellow mug. Wade smiled as he downed the coffee in one gulp, the steam coming out his nose. "That's the shit right there.." Wade belched with a nod.

And that's how he met his shy girlfriend..

-------------------------------------------------♤

Months went by, and it wasn't long before Wade Wilson was wrapped around your finger. He would randomly appear in your home and stick around for hours at a time. Most nights, he wouldn't stay all night and would get out of your hair as you went to bed. Eventually, he came around and began sleeping on your couch.

This evolved into the big idiot coming to you after every mission, no matter the shape he was in. You became used to his company, and luckily, you grew used to the sight of blood and gore pretty fast. Even better, you enjoyed his personality. He was surprised with how fast you grew comfortable with his insane rambling and odd comments to "the audience past the screen." He found his feelings for you to start growing out of proportion.

Once he realized just how down bad he had gotten for you, he was very bold about his feelings. He wasn't trying to hide a single thing around you, especially his adoration for you. One thing led to another, and you both began to date.

After he brought you home blood-soaked take out bags and got down on one knee like he was going to propose to you. Outside of your home. Where all your neighbors could see, of course.

Despite the rocky start, it was a hit. The relationship between you both blossomed into a happy routine. But this didn't mean you grew out of your shy personality. Since day one, you have been quiet and reserved. And not in the way that you were keeping secrets. You answered any questions Wade had for you without missing a beat. But you would never initiate things unless he did. You never asked to see his face. You never once stated you wanted to know his career. Hell, Wade had to tell you himself that you should be angry with him for dragging blood into your apartment.

Wade was definitely the opposite. He was cocky, loud, flirtatious, funny, and if he had something to say he would fucking say it. He didn't need someone else to do it first. Perhaps this was mostly because he was an impatient man, but also because he had never been afraid of conflict. Hence why he became a mercenary in the first place. Plus, the money was damn good, too.

On one of the more slow days, Wade had decided to stay in your apartment and just wait for you to return home from work. You hadn't texted or called since your lunch break earlier, but he simply thought it was because you were busy. Surely you would call him on your way home, like you always do, to make sure he didn't need anything at the store. But your call never came.

Instead, Wade heard the front door quietly open and close. He smirked softly at the soft footsteps in the entrance hallway. "Took you long enough short cake! I was getting worried thinking about ya, I didn't want to have to eat dinner without my favorite dessert around." He would often tease you like this, and every time you would respond with a shy smile and a fond eye roll.

It was a beautiful smile.

And Wade felt his heart drop when he looked over his shoulder, peering over the back of the couch, to see you standing there. Your cheek was swollen, a slight cut on your lip, and a distant look in your eyes. There is no trace of the sweet girl he loved so much. You looked so numb at the moment.

Wade didn't hesitate to stand from the couch, but his actions made you blink out of the trance you found yourself in. You glanced at him and looked down at the floor, eyeing the trail of mud you tracked through the house. "I'm sorry.." You mumbled. Wade didn't get to say anything before you kicked off your shoes and started walking to your bedroom.

Wade silently followed you until he was standing in your bedroom doorway, watching you change into something more comfortable. You were moving like a zombie. He hated it. He was so used to your timid and slow movements because that's who you were. But this was..this was heartbreaking.

"I'll, uhm.. I'll clean up the mud after I change." You mumbled, pulling your arm through the hole of the T-Shirt. Wade stepped forward with a sigh. "Honey -" "I can cook dinner after, I meant to stop and get groceries on the way home but..I got sidetracked." You interrupted him, your quiet voice sounding forced. Almost as if you were holding back tears.

"Baby, stop -" But you interrupted him again when you attempted to push past him, probably trying to go to the kitchen. Wade gently gripped your arms to keep you in place as he stood in front of you, blocking your way. Your gaze stayed planted in front of you, as if you were looking through him. Wade leaned down so you would finally look at him. He could see the bruise forming under your eye better now. And something in his gut twisted painfully at the sight.

"What happened?" He said softly. You shrugged, and your eyelids fluttered softly. "It-It doesn't matter now. It's over, and I just want to relax." You sounded like you were trying to make yourself believe it more than Wade. And his eyebrows (or rather, where his eyebrows would be if he had any hair) furrowed, and he held eye contact with you. "What. Happened?" He was more stern this time.

Perhaps it was his serious demeanor that caused your facade to crack and crumble. He was never this way, even when he returned home missing limbs. The concern in his voice tilted your already fragile state. And you began to sob. Wade hadn't expected such a turn in emotions so fast, and he pulled you into his chest. He easily ran his fingers through your hair as he waited for you to calm down. Maybe Wade wasn't a patient man, and he was definitely too cocky for his own good, but when it came to you, he dropped all of this and just became Wade Wilson.

The man before the tests and experiments, before the laboratory and cancer, when he was just himself. And he loved that you did this to him. You put the scrambled pieces of his mind back together by just being with him. By loving and supporting him. And Wade would be damned if he let this situation go. He would stay and put your own broken heart back together. He didn't know what happened, but he could take a guess. And it wasn't pretty.

Especially for whatever asshat decided to lay their hands on you. But Deadpool could worry about that later. Wade Wilson was more worried about his girlfriend at the moment.

He soothed you and rubbed circles on your back, allowing you to cry into him. It was just you two in the whole world right now. And that's how you liked it. Everything else could wait until later.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Eve

You know how most Otome games are vaguely historical? Usually some non-specific mishmash of European countries? But fluffier and with more bows? It had once "gotten" to me, I think. I remember looking for outliers. Non-joke ones. Something that wasn't just "but this time with hats!"

I found one.

And now? Now I'm not sure if I curse that day or thank whatever force of nature lead me there. I guess... I guess it depends. Would I still have ended up HERE? If I had not found it? If so, then I genuinely and actually fucking rue it. Like... like actual "you'll rue the day! Bwahaha!" Type rue it. That's me. Ruing.

But? If it was always going to happen?

Then I guess...

I guess I'm weirdly glad. Because at least I have some fucking idea of what's going ON. Terrible, as it all is. Fucked, as the situation is. At least I'm not... not confused. Blind and at the mercy of those around me. Ignorance truely isn't bliss. All it does is leave you to try an fill in the blanks yourself. Usually with something far worse.

Not that the situation could GET much worse, by much.

I was in an Otome game. NOT a flower, high society, and dragons kind either. No. I? Was in a Dark Sci-Fi otome game. "Fate of man" was thrown around a lot. Power of luuuuv~ and such. Also, you know, HORRIFIC ethical violations. Human experimentation. Cataclysmic events and humanity "starting over".

All the high drama sci-fi concepts you could expect. It was a romp. Had good art. I'd had fun! Which is why I remember it so clearly.

Less fun when you're IN IT.

When you AREN'T one of the characters you KNOW will survive.

In fact, are one of the characters you know WON'T fucking survive. And will probably die MESSY. Horribly. Cause see, our BELOVED Harem collecting Protagonist? She? Was AN Eve. "AN".

Take a wild fucking guess what THAT project is about.

Did you say "breeding a better race of humans"? Ding ding ding! With humanity currently fucked, they want to FIX the problem by FIXING humanity. And of course, fuck ethics! Volunteers? Why use those?! Let's horrifically mad scientist our way to atrocity-ville! Make it all the more "God rightfully punishing us for our unforgivable sins" when we get wiped out!

Fffffffuck YOU, plot! I have to live here too!

You may, in fact, be picking up a slight note of stir crazy. A "wow, this lady rambles like a mother fucker" vibe. You would TOO, if you were stuck in a FUCKING TUBE. All I can do, day in and day out? Is wake, think, observe, then go right back to sleep. I can't even eat! I got a TUBE for that!

I... I miss showers.

Everything is GOO.

I'm an Eve. And if it weren't for the air tube controlng my breathing? I'd laughing hysterically until I died. And no, not in the "oh how funny" way. God. Oh... oh god. What a way to die. NONE of the Eves survive "the program".

Those IDIOTS are so OBSESSED with making bigger and bigger, better and better, FUCKING JUGGERNAUTS? That the Adams? Have long since reached the point of "mindless killing machine". UNSTABLE is putting it lightly. There is sexual dimorphism and then there's literal incompatibility.

But GOD FORBID the scientists admit that THEY are the ones with the inferior product.

It... it was even part of the game's plot. The scientist who made "Eve" HID her while HE made an Adam. I do not have that luxury. Somewhere, there is an unstable BESERKER being told I'm his "wife". That we're going to be HAPPY together. That he'll get to put his bruising, blood soaked hands anywhere he WANTS... just after he WINS me from the other Adam's.

Got to prove HE'S the best specimen, after all.

It makes my skin crawl. All I can hope, is that I can either provoke the bastard enough to kill me before they have a chance to stop him, or? I use my own enhanced strength to snap my neck. Maybe bite my tounge. Like HELL am I letting an Adam get near me.

The hiss of laboratory doors.

"Perfection at last..." Comes a relieved sigh. "All those HIDEOUS specimens. Why they make me suffer them, I'll never understand. We should have terminated them months ago. My poor project, they really think they're WORTHY of you..."

There's a derisive laugh. The scientist strolling into the lab I've been developing in, familiar. I watch him casually shrug off his lab coat and dump is bag. Hang his coat over the back of his chair. Turn, as he does each day, to STARE up at me. His eyes are a pale, pale purple the likes of which I've never seen before.

They're HAUNTING.

There is almost a red tint to them, though maybe that's the lights. The goo. I can never tell. He always looks ENTRANCED by me. Floating, visored, connected to far too many tubes an' wires. I'd think it was the fact that I was naked if it weren't for the way his gaze doesn't seem to drift lower then my shoulders. Seems more entranced by the way my hair moves, as though under water.

I've never once heard him talk about me lustfully.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't SCARE me.

"Let's begin, shall we? Time for your daily doses, mmm?" He says, voice dangerously affectionate. As though i had CHOSEN to do this to myself. As though he were merely reminding me of my morning medicine and not the hell ahout to come. "Going to be good for me? I know you shall, you always are."

He turned back to his desk, his computer. A few keystrokes... and I could feel the pod above me begin to hum, as it awoke. Oh god. Oh god it never got easier. From the corner of my eyes, bright chemicals slide down thind lines and into my veins. Like lines of lava. Bolts of electricity and pain. It was... AGONY.

My muscles seized. Brain screeched, first to the screaming I wish I could make... then static. With the long practice of daily pain, it took me far away. The click, click, click of keys. The sound of his voice, so terribly PLEASED, as I hung there and just TOOK it. No restraints, no strugging, no damaging myself. Just unbearable fire in my veins and a brain far, far away.

"Good girl~"

Distantly a phone rang. He made an annoyed sound, but picked up regardless.

"What. I'm in the middle of- ...Excuse me? I'm quite sure I did not hear you correctly. I said 'NO'. She's not-....I will NOT BE-...What. Are you out of your god damned MIND? That pile of scraps you call a project is coming NOWHERE near my-! ....you think you're clever, don't you?"

"Fine. You want to TALK? Let's TALK, Anderson. I'll be there in five."

From far away, past the pain, I watched him chance down at something at the screen. Back up to me. He hung up the phone but did not pause the program. Instead, calmly rising from his desk. Shrugging on his lab coat. Rounding the desk and striding towards my bio-tube.

"Hmmm, honestly, it should have been spaced out over a few more days... but you can take it. Endure a bit longer for me, would you, darling? Daddy's going to go deal with something for just a moment, he'll be right back, my perfect girl. Be good."

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to my tank. One hand splayed next to it like he badly wished he could touch. Could stroke skin. Hold his creation close. It was not the first time he had done this. Small, covetous, little actions like he wanted to crawl inside my skin and STAY there. Like he cursed the glass that separated us.

He pulled back. Shifted to the side and kneeled. He... had hidden something behind my bio-pod? When? Apparently before I had become aware. Because I had not known about it. A black shoe box. I watched him open i-GUN. Thaaaat was a gun! Fuck. Well at least? By the time anyone thinks to look in on me? The overdose will probably have killed me?

There is a cold, terrible smile on his face as he rolls to his face. Tucking the gun into an inner pocket. It has a silencer. He leans forward one last time. Lightly kissing the glass of my pod, as though heading off to work and not to very obviously kill somebody. The pain continues. Builds. I watch him leave.

With nothing to anchor myself on... time blurs.

I think? There are alarms? Red lights flash. Then they stop. There is shouting at one point. But then silence. An explosion? Or am I hallucinating? Pain. My nerves are on fire. I don't want to have SKIN. Please... please make it STOP! Calm foot steps? Come to kill me? Please come to kill me. Make it STOP.

The lights died a... time? Ago? Emergency lights on now. Generators in the room are loud. Why can I still hear the feet? Footses? Words. H..hurts. please.

Click.

The pain eases to a stop. Aching but nothing new. Over? Oh, thank god. I can sleep now, right? But... sound? New. At my feet. Gurgling. Wha-? The very top of my head feels cold. Then my forehead. Then my temple's and ears, cheeks, jaw... wait. Is? Is the tube...DRAINING? I open my eyes.

When did I close them?

He's back.

Standing right in front of the tube. Blood staining the hem of his coat, lingering marks of his massacre cleaned but not quite scrubbed from his body. There are little off red stains on his cheek, from what must be blood splatter. They look like tiny freckles.

I'm... I can't...

I reach as the tube down my throat is pulled almost carelessly away by the machine. Choke, suffocate, as the same is done for my air tube. But then it's done... and I can BREATHE under my own power. Gasp and splutter, as the goo sloshes around my knees. Then it's gone. And the tube I've been leaning my weight against is roughly pulled away.

I collapse forward, my muscles having never actually supported me in this life.

Arms catch me. Wrapping me in a possessive hug. A hand immediately burying itself in long uncut hair, even as the other wraps itself around my torso to lean me against his body in a cradle. My face is pressed to his neck by the hand in my hair, cradling my head and neck. I can feel breath against the goo wet crown of my head.

"Finally~" he breaths out, whispering it against me like a sigh. "My beautiful, perfect girl. My darling creation. It took so LONG. Those retrobates interfering at every turn, lusting after you like ANIMALS, trying to keep you from me. Then, worst of all, trying to toss you to some pack of savages? Oh, darling~ Daddy's been so worried for you."

"But we'll be okay now, won't we? I finally have you. All fresh and finally finished. My perfect Eve. You can pick any name you want, of course. You and I will be leaving this ugly little place. Daddy has PLANS. A fresh new world, just for you, sweetheart."

He laughed, his hug tightening in a way that would have left bruises had I been a normal human. Kisses were pressed to my temple. A cheek, rubbed against my hair. He seemed... seemed GIDDY with it. That nothing could stop him now. There was no glass in his way. I could not move yet. My muscles twitched when I tried, but that was it. I wasn't even sure I could talk yet, if I tried.

"Aaah~♡ Welcome to the World, Darling. My Perfection. My Eve. This time no snakes or Adams to tarnish you. To get in your way. Just you and your Father~"

"FOREVER~♡"

Next: ->

[brunchable]

Movie Night | Bucky Barnes x f!reader.

Pairings: Fiance Bucky Barnes x f!reader Themes: FLUFF, FLUFF. IT'S SO FLUFFY IM GONNA DIE. BUCKY JUST BEING HAPPY AND IN LOVE. Summary: You come home exhausted from another day of work, not expecting Bucky to surprise you with a little heart-warming gesture to show you how much he appreciates you. A/N: Bucky is so baby boy in my heart <3 he deserves to be happy :')

You walked through the front door after a long day, the weight of the world seemingly sitting on your shoulders. You dropped your keys onto the table and toed off your shoes, ready to collapse on the couch and maybe watch some mindless TV when you noticed something odd. Your living room lights were off, but there was a soft, warm glow coming from inside... a fort?

You blinked, taking in the sight. There, in the middle of your living room, was a massive pillow fort. Cushions, blankets, and pillows of every kind were stacked together, forming walls and towers. Fairy lights were strung around the outside, casting a soft glow over the entire space. The entrance was a small gap, just wide enough for someone to crawl through. You smiled, already knowing who was behind this.

"Bucky?" you called, your voice filled with amusement.

From inside the fort, you heard a muffled, "Come in, if you dare."

Laughing, you crouched down and peeked inside. Bucky was lying on his back, surrounded by an array of snacks, blankets, and your favorite movies lined up on the tablet in front of him. He grinned up at you, his eyes soft and playful. 

"I built us the fortress of restorous," he said dramatically, holding up a bag of popcorn as if it were a prized treasure.

You crawled inside, the fort much bigger than you thought. It was like stepping into a cozy little world of your own. 

“You did all of this?” you asked, settling down beside him. The pillows were impossibly soft and you found your muscles relaxing and the stress from your work fading away.

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the pride in his eyes gave him away. “I figured you could use a little break. Plus, it’s movie night.”

You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. “This is amazing, Buck.”

He turned toward you, propping his head on his hand as he gazed at you with that soft, thoughtful expression you loved. “You’ve been working so hard, lately. I just want you to know that you're amazing.”

Your heart melted at his words, the care and effort he’d put into this gesture. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, but he grinned as he handed you a bag of your favourite snacks. “Alright, pick a movie. I’ve got everything lined up.”

“DVDs? Where did you even get this? Let alone a DVD player?” You chuckled holding up the case for White Chicks (2004). 

“I bought them,” He paused a beat when he saw your brows starting to furrow, “With my money okay? Your fiancé is old fashioned, just in case your little noggin’ forgot.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you playfully nudged Bucky’s shoulder. "My fiancé, huh? Guess that means I'm stuck with you, old-fashioned DVDs and all," you teased, holding up the case for emphasis. "But seriously, this is kind of adorable. You with a DVD player? It's like a time capsule here."

Bucky grinned, his expression softening as he leaned back against the pillows. "Classic movies, cozy nights... maybe we’ll even get a record player next."

You smiled warmly at him, your heart felt full at how much thought he put into the evening. 

"You know," you said softly, "you always find a way to surprise me. And I love every bit of it." you paused, looking down at the DVD case in your hands before glancing back at him with a smirk. "But I’ll warn you, if you start quoting this movie word for word, you’ll owe me a lot more than just a cozy night in a pillow fort.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, matched with a raised brow.

You grinned, leaning in closer until your faces were only inches apart. “You’ll owe me... a whole day of doing whatever I want. No complaints, no arguing. Just you, me, and whatever ridiculous adventure I come up with.”

“Whatever you want, huh? You think you can handle me agreeing to anything without a fight?”

You laughed softly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I’m counting on it. I’ll make sure it’s something unforgettable.”

He smirked, “Alright, deal. But only if you can stay awake through the whole movie without falling asleep on my shoulder like last time.”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me, James Barnes, I did not fall asleep! I was just… resting my eyes.”

Bucky chuckled, pulling yor closer and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, baby.”

You spent the next few hours nestled in the little fort, watching silly comedies and adventure films, laughing so hard at times both of you almost cried. Every now and then, Bucky would nudge you with his shoulder, his playful side showing as he whispered sarcastic comments about the characters on screen.

But the real magic was in the quiet moments. The way Bucky's arm slowly found its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your head rested on his chest. The warmth of his body seeping into yours as the world outside the fort seemed to disappear. His hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm as you lay there, completely content in your cosy little world.

At some point during the night, after the third movie, you turned your head slightly to look up at him. He was staring at the screen, his face bathed in the soft glow of the fairy lights, a small smile tugging at his lips. You couldn’t help but admire how peaceful he looked. He deserves that more than anyone else.

Without thinking, you whispered, “I love you.”

The words slipped out so naturally, so effortlessly, that you didn’t even realise what you’d said until Bucky's head snapped down to look at you. For a moment, you panicked, your heart racing. But then, a soft smile spread across his face, and he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently.

“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice tender. “Always.”

You felt your heart swell, and you snuggled deeper into his arms, letting the warmth of his love and the comfort of the little fort wrap around you like a blanket. As the night grew later and the movies played on, you knew that no matter what, this moment – this simple, perfect moment in the pillow fort – was something you would treasure forever.

And as both of you drifted off to sleep, tangled up in each other and the fort Bucky had built, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, in your little fortress of love and warmth.

[karugoround]

Nagizuru au creatures ~ probably their most normal drawings ever.

🩶

Today marks one year since I made my first Nagizuru post. I never thought I would love this beast so much. Thank you all so much for enjoying this au!

Here you have a small lighthearted fic written by @draconicsparkle as a gift. It's not connected to the original story, just them celebrating a regular birthday. They spoil them too much! ⬇️⬇️

How long had it been since then? So long. Both the creation date and their escapes. But in a strange way, Hajime was glad they had experienced all those hardships and difficult times. For without them, the two of them wouldn’t appreciate the bliss they were living in nearly as much.

Hajime thought this as his one working eye stared out the window in the small kitchen. The garden was visible from here, where all kinds of flowers and plants were growing. Gardening was one of Izuru’s many talents, after all. It would be odd if it wasn’t growing splendidly.

A small smile grew as he recalled the many hours they had spent sitting in the gazebo they had built in the middle of the garden, sandwiches and lemonade in hand while the butterflies and bees flew by.

But today wouldn’t be spent in the garden. No, Hajime had other plans. Hence why he was in the kitchen earlier in the morning. Izuru was still in their bedroom, sleeping away without sedatives. He wouldn’t dare wake him up, even now when they were far away from the Lighthouse’s rubble.

He bent down to check the oven’s window, pleased to see the cake sheets baking nicely. He grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the pans out, sliding them on the cooling rack. They were the perfect shade and smelled amazing. While they cooled, the brunette got busy preparing the whipped cream and cutting the strawberries he had picked yesterday. He focused hard on his task, not stopping until his creation was fully constructed. A beautiful and practically flawless strawberry shortcake. He almost felt bad for cutting into it and pulling a slice out to place on the plate. But he was far more eager to see the reaction, so he didn’t mourn the perfection.

After gathering a fork and a glass of milk, he placed everything on a tray and carefully picked it up. His months of practice came in handy, as the tray remained balanced the whole way to the bedroom. Using a shoulder, he bumped the door open so his hands didn’t leave the tray. Soon enough, he was placing the tray down on the nightstand. By this point, he knew the Ultimate Hope was awake now. “Good morning. Was your sleep restful?”

The red eyes gazed up at him, still mysterious and cryptic, though not nearly as hard anymore. Being free of pain and drugs was most likely the reason. “I can confirm that it was. The aroma of your creation coaxed me back to consciousness. Not that I mind this pleasant method of awakening.”

“I’m glad you think so, si-” Hajime paused, laughing in embarrassment. “I mean Izuru.”

The white-haired man smirked up at him. “Slip of the tongue?”

Hajime scratched his cheek, right under his silk eye cover. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“But they are getting to be fewer and less frequent,” Izuru observed. He sat up, the large shirt he was wearing slipping off a shoulder. “Can you hand me a hair tie, my dear caretaker?” he requested once he had risen into a comfortable position.

The brunette was quick to do so, though he did it with a grin. “That was on purpose. You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

Izuru’s smirk didn’t diminish, even as he began gathering his long hair and weaving the hair tie around the locks. “Observant as always, my dear. Just one of the many traits I adore about you.”

Hajime felt his cheeks redden. He still wasn’t able to hide his reactions to Izuru’s words of affection. “I-I do my best.”

“That you do.” Izuru finished making his ponytail, letting it rest against his back. He then reached forward, tugging on Hajime’s arms. The strength of the tugs had been unexpectedly strong and Hajime found himself falling onto the bed alongside Izuru with a yelp.

“Much better,” Izuru stated as he hugged Hajime to his chest. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

The brunette wiggled only slightly to get more comfortable. “But… don’t you want your cake?”

“In a few moments. Let me indulge myself on this first,” was the reply. A pleased hum followed, along with some shoulder rubs that felt amazing. “Another day of tranquility. One that we earned for our perseverance through the blood and pain. The torture those foolish scientists inflicted while playing God. But I suppose it would be best to not dwell upon such horrid memories. It is beneficial to move on and build oneself back up stronger than before.”

The caretaker chuckled. “That the Ultimate Therapist at work? Putting in overtime, for sure.”

“Perhaps. But I will utilize my abilities for our sakes and lives. And I’m sure you are well aware of this.” One of Izuru’s hands migrated up to his hair, scratching his scalp and conjuring happy noises from the receiver.

“What did I do to deserve this? So nice,” Hajime muttered, relaxing into the comforting touches.

“If you would like reasons, I can compile a list. But be aware that it is a long one. It would take some time to read them all,” Izuru replied with his eternal smile.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll decline. You know how I am with rapid fire compliments.” The brunette relaxed under the ministrations, enjoying every second.

“Oh, I do have something to retrieve. Remain here in bed, okay?” Izuru withdrew and extracted himself from the bed covers, standing up and walking over to his closet. Hajime watched in confusion, especially as the pale man pulled out a giant crocheted blanket with a mandala design. “You are always making things for me, so I figured I could return the favor. It was surprisingly easy to keep my work on this little project secret from you. Though, I am certainly not complaining,” Izuru commented as he brought the blanket over, laying it over Hajime and tucking him in. “The pattern is a representation of our spiritual and physical journey through our lives. That we found our fulfillment after our struggles. Quite fitting, wouldn’t you agree?”

Hajime’s eyes, both functional and broken, widened at the colorful blanket now around him. He ran a hand over the design, admiring the nice material and the quality of the gift. “I… I don’t know what to say… This is…”

Izuru sat next to him, sliding under the blanket next to him. “I already know, so don’t fret. Nothing needs to be expressed.” He leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the plate and fork. “Now then, how about we try your splendid creation?” The full strawberry on top was speared with the fork and was raised to their faces. “I’ll give you the honor of taking the decoration. You won’t refuse, will you?”

Hajime’s breath was shaky as he nodded. “You know that I would never refuse anything from you. Neither back then, nor now.”

“Excellent. Though there is one condition to get this. You will have to take it from me.” Izuru placed the lower half of the strawberry into his mouth, the thicker half sticking out. And the mischievous look in those ruby red eyes implied exactly what Izuru was insinuating.

Hajime’s face turned as red as the berry. They were about to do this, weren’t they? But he couldn’t go back on his promise, so he swallowed his nerves. He leaned forward and locked lips with the other, the kiss tasting like the sweet fruit. It lasted for several moments, neither of them eager to break it. Eventually, they did separate, the strawberry now in Hajime’s mouth. He focused on chewing to buy himself time to calm down from the rush of emotions. Though this was easily seen by the Ultimate Analyst, if the smirk was anything to go off of.

“Now, I shall taste test your work. Though I don’t doubt it will be fantastic. Thank you for the treat,” the Ultimate Hope said as he cut into the cake and took a delicate bite. “A nice way to wake up and start the day. And here’s to many more in our future.”

Hajime snuggled under the beautiful blanket a little more, resting his head on Izuru’s shoulder. Finally comfortable with initiating close contact after all this time. “Yes. I hope and wish for that, too.”

[reminiscingtonight]

Prior Engagements

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

[WOSO Masterlist]

This is a bad idea. 

This is a really bone-headed, captain-title-revoked worthy, bad idea.

Slightly buzzed, Alexia stands staring at the door in front of her. In one hand is a bottle of wine, the other a container of food. Chicken Alfredo, she reminds herself. Your favorite pasta dish. 

The day had started out like any other. Alexia woke up in time to see the sun rise, got a quick workout in before practice started later in the day. The coffee she picked up on her way to the training grounds filled her car with a sweet aroma, something only outshined by the beaming grin on your face when she handed you your coffee minutes later. Ignoring the hoots and hollers of her teammates, Alexia couldn’t take her eyes off you the entire training session. 

It’s been like this since you transferred to the club. From day one of your signing, Alexia hasn’t been able to stay too far away from you. You brought an air of confidence from the moment you stepped onto the field. All of the Barcelona players were attracted to it, your cool demeanor making you pop to the top of everyone’s list, Alexia not excluded. 

While she enjoyed all the excitement new people bring to the team, your outgoing persona is honestly a bit intimidating to her, the Spanish midfielder always stumbling over her words when in your presence. 

Mapi’s the first to pick up on her crush. After being caught watching you one too many times, Alexia had to start perfecting what she dubs the ‘never being in the same room as Mapi and (Y/N) at the same time’ move. Her best friend held up to her title, making sure to tease Alexia to hell whenever you were nearby, hence the necessity of such evasion tactics. 

And, of course, the events of tonight all started with the one and only Mapi León. 

It all began after practice ended. Everyone was still milling about the locker room when Mapi brought up the idea of going out for a group dinner. There’s a quick buzz around the room as most of the girls start agreeing. 

It’s subconscious, the way Alexia’s eyes drift to you. Your head’s buried in your bag as you shuffle around, not agreeing nor backing out of the dinner plans. At least not until Mapi gives you a gentle nudge. When you lift your eyes, Mapi’s tilting her head at you, a silent question in her gaze. 

Alexia deflates when you shake your head. “Sorry, I’d love to go out but I have some prior engagements I can’t get out of.”

When you leave minutes later, the locker room instantly dissolved into hushed giggles and speculations of which lucky girl you were off to go meet or which party you were heading to. It’s common knowledge among the girls of your late night adventures. Eight times out of ten you’re dropping out of whatever group event is going on, only ever joining when the girls send Alexia after you. (The Barcelona captain tries not to read too much into why you usually say yes to her but not to anyone else.)

Although it’s fun catching up with the rest of the girls at dinner, Alexia still can’t help but think about you the entire night. She’s scatterbrained, something Mapi doesn’t miss. It’s at the insistence of the blonde that Alexia finds herself here, standing on your doorstep, nervously hoping you’re home alone. 

It’s quiet as she knocks, her breath coming out in nervous little puffs. Alexia is just about to call it a bust when she hears a muffled “coming!” echoing through the door. The wine bottle in her hand feels heavy, palms profusely sweating as she hears the quiet padding of feet. 

There’s the gentle click of the lock before the door’s opening before her.

“Ale, hey.” There’s surprise in your voice, but with her eyes still glued to her feet, Alexia doesn’t make eye contact with you. 

She starts speaking before she can second guess herself. “I know you said you have plans, but I just wanted to--”

The words die in her throat when she finally looks up, locking eyes with yours… Your eyes that are hidden behind a thick frame. 

Standing in front of her, dressed in only the comfiest pair of sweatpants and fuzzy slippers, you have a pair of glasses on your face. 

Alexia blinks. 

“You have glasses.”

You nervously fidget, hand coming up to push your slipping glasses back up your nose. “I wear contacts when we’re out on the field.”

“You look cute.” Both of you are turning red at once. You for the compliment. Alexia for actually saying it out loud.

Coughing to clear the air, you take a step back. “Sorry, where are my manners? Come on in.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind your company.”

Alexia follows you through the door, instantly noting the books laid all over the floors. There’s barely any walkable space in your living room, most surfaces either being covered by textbooks, notebooks, or diagrams. From the look of things, you’ve been at this for a while. 

Alexia can’t help but wonder for how long. 

“Excuse the mess, I was, uh…”

Alexia raises an eyebrow at the sheepish look on your face. “Prior engagement-ing?” 

A light blush coats your cheeks as you nervously scratch at your neck. You don’t even try defending yourself. “I have a test tomorrow. I’m not even halfway done with the material.”

From deep in her memories, Alexia briefly remembers you saying something about studying for accounting. It was only a brief sentence during your initiation introduction, but from the look of things you were clearly still trying hard to finish your degree.

Alexia gives you a gentle smile, definitely not missing your squinty eyes or slightly hunched over back. All signs indicating the start of a killer headache. 

“Well good thing I brought wine and pasta. Can’t have you studying on an empty stomach now can we?”

Your eyes light up when you notice the container in her hand. 

“Is that--”

“Your favorite,” she confirms, fighting the urge to laugh when you instantly make a grabby motion with your hands. Alexia passes you the food with ease, this time not able to hold back her laugh at the way your eyes grow in size when you open the container.

“Please marry me,” you groan, already taking a forkful of the pasta.

“Take me on a date first,” Alexia nervously laughs, hoping you don’t notice how pink she’s gotten.

“Does tomorrow night at 6 work?”

Wait. 

Did you just…

Alexia chokes. “I-- you… what?”

You grin around another forkful of food. “I’d take you out right now but I have a test to study for. And there’s no point in wasting the food you already got for me.”

[earlysunshines]

moonlight serenade

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (pt. 3)

summary: sana finds you even cuter after seeing you in shark pj's, you two are hopeless lesbians, you drive sana home and it's more romantic than it should be – oh my god you're not a mother?

wc: 5.3k

warnings: mentions of food, i think that's it ; reader has tattoos ; u two are hopeless romantics ; lesbians being lesbians

pt 1. pt2. pt4.

a/n: I love jazz. I've been listening to jazz in a bakery/cafe while writing each part actually. pls listen to moonlight serenade by ella fitzgerald, it's a work of art and one of my all time favorites :-D

(are lyrics in fics corny? I have no idea. I just love jazz and thought this song was perfect for this part.)

trying to write as much before I move! enjoy ;-]

-

“Are you actually serious?” Jihyo says, placing her cup of coffee down. Sana pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a small breath,

“Jihyo, I don’t know what to do,” Sana says defeatedly.

Two months have passed by and that means two months of seeing you every now and then. Johnny, your brother, has returned from his business trip, so he ended up being the one to take Hana to school in the morning and the one to pick her up in the afternoon. You, however, were not going to miss the chance to see this lovely woman named Sana. 5'4 inches of pure beauty and charm. So, you convinced him to let you take Hana to school once or twice a week just to see who you think is the woman blessed by Aphrodite. 

I mean, the temperature is dropping, and the warmth that spreads through your body when you see Sana is definitely something you need for this weather.

Every week Sana would see you in the morning once or twice. You two would exchange your friendly greetings before Hana goes off to chat with her new best friend Jiyeong, you’d stare at each other all lovingly (you two are oblivious, it’s sick), and then part ways. Rinse and repeat, reuse, reduce, recycle, etc, this went on for two damn months. 

Sana would never say anything more, she wouldn’t flirt, she wouldn’t ask you out, and she wouldn’t do anything but be friendly. She still believed that you were literally her student’s mother, and there was a guilt that got heavier every time her heart did a flip from seeing you.

Each interaction sparked a small flame in your hearts, and just before it grew bigger, you’d wave goodbye; the flame would die again, never growing large enough to really warm you two the way you both needed.

“Sana… I honestly have no clue what to say,” Jihyo starts, and she looks at the young teacher in front of her, practically losing her mind, “I mean, you’re sure she’s her mom?”

“Yes, I mean, the girl’s dad and her take turns dropping her off and whatnot. I'm not going to be more delusional than I already am trying to find anything that makes her seem less like a mother, I mean, it's clear that she is the mother of that girl.” Sana explains, and her heart sinks a little, “I guess her dad is nice, though, and tall, I don’t know.” Sana groans. 

Jihyo watches Sana stick out her signature little pout and swirl the coffee in her cup, 

“Well… There are always others, no?”

“I don’t know, it’s just something about her Jihyo,” and Jihyo listens with interest, “I just, ever since we met, I feel like, there was some kind of… god this is so embarrassing…” Sana trails off, putting a hand on her forehead and pinching her eyes shut from slight embarrassment. Sana reminisces the way you’d joke about Hana making your wrinkles appear if she kept it up with her little antics, how you’d make her laugh at your little comments, and the way your eyes scan the room for her in the mornings and -

“You’ve been a hopeless romantic since we were roommates, I’ve probably heard worse.” Jihyo sighs, and she reminisces about the days when Sana and she had to share a small single-bedroom dorm, and how she would gush about anything and romanticize everything. 

“Look, she’s just so pretty… Maybe we could just be friends? She’s sweet.” Sana suggests, and Jihyo laughs in disbelief.

“You want to be friends with someone’s mother that you also, or, might have a crush on?”

“Maybe.” 

-

You let yourself in through the front door with your spare keys, hanging your jacket on the coat hanger and sliding your shoes off, setting them on the shoe rack. 

There’s a faint melody of a slow, soft song playing, and there’s a low voice that hums along to the old tune. It fits the atmosphere of the quiet house on a Thursday night.

You creep through the hall quietly to see your brother in the dimmed kitchen washing a few plates. He’s in a navy long-sleeved shirt with its sleeves rolled up so water doesn't temporarily shade his apparel, and loose shorts that go down to just above his knees. His hair is a bit messy, and he looks nerdy with his circular black glasses on. You laugh at the sight of him in his pajamas and slides, he jumps a little and turns his head in surprise after hearing you.

“My god, at least text me.” He sighs, and you chuckle at him. You make your way over to the area where he is and sit across from him at the kitchen island, he directs his attention back to the dirty plate in his hand, “Did you need something?”

“Kinda.”

“You know where everything is, just grab it if you need it. Also, be quiet, Hana just fell asleep.” Johnny responds, turning off the sink and placing the white dish in the dishwasher. 

“It’s not a physical thing, I just… maybe some advice, or at least your thoughts.”

“...On?”

“There’s this girl,”

"Oh," He mumbles quietly, “You’re ready to date again?”

“I think so,” You begin, “She’s different you know. Not like that girl in high school. She’s actually the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she’s sweet and nice and caring and-”

“How long have you known her?”

“Two months...”

“So it is Ms. Minatozaki.” Johnny scoffs, though, not in an insulting way, more of an ‘I fucking knew it’ way. He picks up a rag and starts to wipe it on the countertop.

You look at your taller brother in surprise, “How did you know?”

“Hana tells me all about you two y’know? Why else would you willingly wake up earlier than you should to drop off my daughter at school? And, she tells me that you ask about her teacher?” He laughs, “You’re not good at hiding things, never have been.”

“Hey!” You say defensively, and a little too loud as it makes him put a finger to his lips,

“Lower your voice.” 

“Sorry.” You mumble, laying your head on your palm. Johnny turns his body to face you instead of the counter connected to the sink that he had previously been wiping,

“Soooo, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know Johnny.”

“You think she likes you?” He asks, genuinely curious about your new interest. Johnny grabs two glasses of water and places them on the counter, then sits down to the right of you, making sure to give his full attention to you. 

Johnny has always been a good brother, and you two had your necessary brother-sister moments where you were at each other's throats; in fact, you’d bicker all the damn time and it even went on into high school. However, you two always had each other’s backs. Even when you hated each other there would be moments where you two were the only ones who understood each other, and sometimes time seemed to stop when you’d talk about the deeper topics and anything bothering you two. 

And so, time slows down as Johnny listens to your rant.

“We’re friendly, I mean, what am I thinking? I feel slightly delusional I won’t even lie,” You sigh, “She’s so pretty and sweet and I just, I really want to get to know her. Like ever since I met her I felt like… It’s so corny but I swear the world literally paused for a moment.” You add, shifting your look away from your older brother.

How are you supposed to tell your brother that this woman that you’ve known for two months is making you lose some sleep, and, by the way, you haven’t even had a full conversation with her either. You think of the woman that you go out of your way to run into and see for ten minutes a day total, twice a week. You think of her radiant smile that rivals the sun's rays, the voice that’s more soothing than any song on your playlist, and the way her eyes light up when she sees you, and -

“You’re head over heels, huh,” Johnny says, amused.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I barely know her.” you lie,

“Well, you could.”

“And how am I supposed to do that? ‘Oh hey I think of you day and night just because I think you’re cute and nice and I think I almost overfilled a cup of cold brew while daydreaming about you, uh maybe we could go out sometime?’”

“Maybe don’t say that much, dumbass.” Your older brother says playfully, “Just start with a compliment or something, you seriously suck at this romance stuff.”

“Thanks,” You mutter, rolling your eyes, “But what if she thinks that’s weird? I’m literally her student’s aunt.”

“Maybe,” Johnny sighs and finishes the water in his cup, “Maybe you should get some rest, y/n. If you lose sleep over this woman who you’ve never had a full conversation with, imagine how much sleep you’ll lose when you finally do.” He stands up and makes his way over back to the sink to rinse the glass cup you had gotten him for his last birthday, “So, maybe you should catch up on rest now and rant to me when you finally have the balls to actually make a conversation with her, then I could actually give you some decent advice."

“You suck.”

“I want to give you my feedback and advice, but this is literally all I can say right now: ask her out and come back to me.”

“This is too much.”

“You’re a loser, y/n.” Johnny jokes, and he takes the cup that you hadn’t touched away and then rinses it.

-

You don’t even get to plan anything or prepare yourself for your next interaction with Sana, and you look stupid when you run into her too.

You’re at the nearest convenience store in an oversized t-shirt that was your brothers’, the gray shirt with a shark graphic on it that was too comfy to not steal. Paired with that tee were plaid shorts and white socks with more sharks on them that you had gotten from Hana last Christmas, along with grayish-green clogs on your feet. 

You were dressed like a college student that was on a budget, and of course, you had to run into the woman of your dreams at a convenience store at 12:24 am on a Friday night while looking stupid.

Sana had run into you while you scanned the drinks section. You didn’t notice her calling out your name while there was pop music playing in your earbuds, and when you turned to see who had tapped on your shoulder your eyes widened.

Sana held a small basket in her hand, and she wore a purple sweatshirt along with gray sweatpants, much more presentable than what you were wearing. Your face goes red as you realize that she’s caught you looking ridiculous, all while she looks perfect.

Her hair is clipped up and some strands fall over her face, and she looks so unbelievably adorable just standing there smiling at you.

“Hi.” She says, looking you up and down. 

She scans your whole look and gets a little flustered by how precious you look. Your hair is messed up and disheveled at the roots, as if you’d just gotten out of bed and ran a hand through it. The oversized t-shirt drowned your figure in comfort, and your inked, toned forearms were revealed. The t-shirt you wore had a cute shark graphic on it, Sana had guessed that your daughter had something to do with why you had that shirt. She smiles at the sight of you in such comfy clothing, looking lovely as ever while you stare back at her. 

“Hey.” You respond, taking out an earbud,

“It’s surprising to see you here y/n,” Sana giggles, “Thirsty?” She questions, and she’s peeking at the vitamin water in one of your hands.

“I guess so.” You mumble, biting the inside of your cheek and putting a hand in your pocket, “It’s pretty surprising to see you here too.” You add. Surprising, but wow, definitely lucky. When would you ever see her looking so comfy and out of her workplace looking so cute? 

Sana giggles and you feel like a huge gust of wind has hit you so suddenly, about to hit you off your feet. You smile brightly. 

“I couldn’t sleep, I wanted something to snack on,” Sana shrugs. You glance at her basket and see some spicy turtle chips in the basket,

“Eating something spicy at this time is new to me, most people would have something warm, no?”

“Maybe.” Sana mutters, “I like your outfit, by the way.” 

Your ears turn red again and you look down at your clothing, “Yeah… It’s a shirt from Hana’s dad, haha, that’s why it’s so big.”

Sana’s heart sinks a bit at the mention of Hana’s dad. 

Sana and Johnny had met other times, and Sana thought he was nice, sweet, and she can't lie he does has a nice smile, but not as nice as yours. He treated Hana with care; Sana could tell he loved her dearly, as much as you did. 

“I see, I like it. The two of them must love sharks, she always draws them during class.”

“She and her dad are very similar, lots of shark things in the house. I prefer koalas.” You reply. You wonder why the hell you’re mentioning koalas at this time, at this moment in this place, but it doesn’t matter because it seems to spark some kind of conversation with the woman in front of you, and Sana thinks it’s cute, actually. 

“Koalas?” She questions amusingly, "They’re cute. I think hamsters are cuter, though.” 

“hamsters?”

“Mhm.” 

You chuckle at her response and wonder, how does she get cuter every time? Sana turns her head to eye at the drinks, then makes her way to the refrigerator door to grab one for herself, she grabs a canned iced americano and turns her body to face you again, 

“Do you live near? I feel like I would’ve run into you sooner if you did.” Sana says, looking at the can in her right hand. 

“Uh - no. The nearest convenience store closes at 12, so I just drove around until I found one open.” You answer, “Do you live near?” You ask. You wonder if the question is too weird or creepy to ask, I mean, this is a woman you don’t know too well, and would it be weird to ask a person you find so attractive where they live?

“Kind of. It’s a fifteen-minute walk, maybe less, give or take. The one right next to my place is closed too.”

“You walked? At this time?” You question her. Worry takes over your whole body because she walked alone? In the dark? At this hour? 

Sana just hums in response, “Yeah, the neighborhood is really quiet and not too bad.”

“Still, you should’ve driven or something.”

“I don’t drive.” She simply states. You furrow your brows. She just stares back at you with those big brown eyes, it almost makes you forget about worrying.

She walks past you and heads to the self-checkout, you follow. There's a sudden idea that pops up in your mind, and you usually wouldn't be so bold to suggest or ask anything so direct, but it's twelve in the morning and your mind is too scrambled to make or think of any decent decisions.

“Sana,” You murmur, voice just barely above a whisper as you find the confidence for what you’re about to say, “Uh- this might be a little weird to ask, but, um…” You stutter, why the hell are you stuttering? She’s staring at you with those large espresso-colored eyes that remind you of your job at the moment, and the longer she stares back at you the more your mind races. This woman has your heart doing flips and pounding through your chest, you can barely manage your thoughts and words,

“Yes?”

“Uh, could I take you home?” You finally say, barely managing to make eye contact with her and it’s a humbling experience as your usually leveled (at least you think) demeanor crumbles under the presence of this woman.

“You don’t have to. It’s late and I don’t want to cause you too much trouble, y/n.” 

“I’d be much more troubled if I knew you were walking home alone at this time, I insist.”

“Alright then. Let me pay first.”

You pause for a moment and Sana just turns back around, scanning the chips and canned coffee she had in her basket. It’s almost 12:30 now, and a pretty girl is letting you take her home. This wonder of the world is letting your disheveled self take her home.

-

“You have a nice car,” Sana says. She's never had a thing for cars or really knew too much about them. She's only paid attention to Jihyo’s five-seat white Lexus and the black, modified BMW that belonged to her childhood friend Momo. Other cars don't really matter or stand out to her, but Sana’s interest in you grows when she first sees the green Mercedes. Five-seated car looks nice and neat from the outside, for some reason, it really catches her attention. When she sits in the passenger seat she’s hit with the smell of coconut and vanilla. There are two things hung from the internal rearview mirror: One, a small keychain of a koala, and two, a picture of you and Johnny.

Sana can’t help but smile at the picture of you two, you two look happy.

You start the engine and put on your seatbelt before putting the drink you bought in the cup holder. You press on the screen in your car and a slow jazz melody plays. Of course, it had to be a love song. 

“I’ve never seen your tattoos up close, they’re really pretty.” Sana suddenly says as you start to move out of where you were parked. Her eyes scan from your upper forearm, where the tattoo started, and down to where it ended just below your wrist, “I only saw a bit of them when you had dropped Hana off the first day.” Sana added.

She wanted to add on about how she also noticed the tattoo just under your knuckles too, and how she found the ink on your skin so endearing. She wanted to tell you all about the things she found attractive about you. From the noticeable things like your bold features to the little things she’s noted in her mind from every meeting. The way you’d always run a hand through your beautiful hair once or twice, the eye contact you couldn’t hold with her, the way you bit the inside of your cheek when you were quiet, the way your fingers often tugged at the beaded bracelet on your hand, how cute it was to watch you say bye to your daughter, and various other little details. Sana wanted to tell you all about those things, but that would be incredibly weird, right?

“Oh, yeah, thank you. I got the tattoo on my forearm a couple of years ago. Hana picked out the butterfly on my hand last year, actually.” You say, looking at the screen of your car as you back up a bit, making sure you don’t hit anything. 

“Oh, also, you can type the address on my phone. Here.” You add, handing her the device. Sana types in her address quickly and it pops up on the screen. It’s a quick 4-minute drive, and you both wished it were a bit longer.

The music continues to play softly while you two sit in silence, and it somehow makes the mood a bit more intimate whilst the faint sound of Ella Fitzgerald's voice echoes,

I stand and I wait 

For the touch of your hand in the June night 

The roses are sighing 

A moonlight serenade

Your breath hitches, “Um, you can change the song if you want…” You say embarrassed. Sana shakes her head and mumbles, 

“It’s alright. I like it, It’s cute.” She admits, making you blush a bit. You grip the wheel a little tighter as you stop at the red light. The heartfelt lyrics fill the air with a romantic hum, and only the tender melody is heard as you sit together in silence.

The stars are aglow

 And tonight how their light sets me dreaming 

My love, do you know 

That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?

Sana’s heartbeat skips a little knowing that you listen to such romantic melodies, and she wonders if you love as romantically as such songs. Her mind wanders to the thought of you serenading her in the moonlight, or serenading her in a more domestic setting. The sudden thought of you humming along to these tunes while you cooked or cleaned allowed made her cheeks flush a bit. Jihyo was right: Sana is a hopeless romantic. She’s too far in to get out of the hole of these feelings, and her heart aches a little, the guilt piles up.

You on the other hand are freaking out.

Sana likes your lovey-dovey taste in music, and she seems content (Sana's having a crisis). Maybe you do have a chance with this woman, I mean, she’s already in your car and letting you take her home. Maybe you can do this again, maybe you can listen to songs like this together in a more intimate setting rather than your car, and maybe you can do more than just listen to Ella Fitzgerald together. All the maybe’s in your head are cut short as you reach her place and park in front of her apartment complex. 

“We’re here.” You mutter, and you wish you weren’t.

Sana nods and reaches for the eco-friendly bag she had set down, unbuckles her seatbelt, then turns so that her eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. She puts her left hand on your right hand that had been gripping the gear shift ever so gently, your jaw tenses a bit and your left hand that had been on the wheel tightens its hold once more. She looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again. Your heart is suddenly an acrobat the way it's doing so many flips.

“Thank you again, I appreciate it.” She says, and her other hand is on the handle of the door, ready to get out, but she doesn’t.

“Anytime, I didn’t want you to be out alone at this time.” you wonder how that sentence leaves your mouth so calmly because your heart is beating at least two hundred times per minute. 

Sana’s lips curve into a smile again and you relax a bit,

“Well,” Sana starts, and she opens the door, “I’ll see you soon?”

“I’m picking up Hana on Monday.”

“Great. See you then, y/n.” She finally says, turning away and getting out of the car. You two look at each other again and your eye contact lingers a bit before she finally closes the door, waves, and turns to head inside the apartment complex. 

The music continues to play, and your heart longs for her once again.

I stand at your gate

And I sing you a song in the moonlight 

A love song, my darling 

A moonlight serenade

-

A week passes after this encounter, and Sana is currently giving the kids an announcement that might have them jumping off the walls.

“Alright everyone in your seats please.” She says kindly. The students listen to her and shuffle to their seats, some chatter being shared as they do so. Sana claps her hands in a pattern to bring the students’ attention to her, and they clap their hands the same way that she had, quieting down in the process.

“Alright everyone, before I make this announcement, I need everyone to behave and not get too rowdy, okay?”

“Yes Ms. Minatozaki!” The class answers enthusiastically. Sana nods and smiles at them,

“Alright. So, there’s a special trip that is planned for you all next week.” She begins. The kids' faces start to light up after hearing the words “special trip” and almost all of them are itching to get more details on it. Sana’s face seems to light up with theirs from just looking at the excitement on their faces, so she continues,

“Next Wednesday we will be spending the day at the art museum downtown. There are going to be multiple people guiding you throughout the museum, and you’ll be able to learn about the art.” Sana explains, “And, at the end of the trip we’ll all meet back at a special room where you can paint along with an instructor.”

The kids’ smiles grow even wider, some are whispering to each other while others continue to keep their attention on the young teacher. 

“Now, I also wanted to add that we will be needing some chaperones to help look after the class. I have some papers that I’ll give to you, make sure you show them to your mom, dad, or guardian. If they’d like to tag along to help out that would be great, and highly encouraged.” Sana says, pulling out a pile of papers from her desk, she begins to pass around said forms.

-

An hour passes and it’s free choice time. Hana walks up to the young teacher with the form that Sana had previously handed out. Sana smiles at the young girl and tilts her head,

“What is it, Hana? Is everything okay?” The young teacher questions,

“Um, Ms… What does guardian mean? You said mom, dad, and guardian earlier. Does that mean grown up?” Hana asks, and she looks at the paper as if her five-year-old self can read the whole thing with ease, 

“I guess so. It’s an adult who takes care of you.” Sana explains to the girl. The girl hums to herself and furrows her brows,

“Does that mean y/n can come?”

“Of course, she’s your mom isn’t she?” Sana asks, and she’s confused as to why the girl looks up at her in surprise,

“My mom?” 

“Yes… She’s your mom, no?”

“Ms. Minatozaki, Y/n is my aunt.” 

Sana’s whole world stops for a moment. Y/n is her aunt? 

“So your dad and her are…?”

“Y/n is my papa’s younger sister, she always jokes about him being so old,” Hana says, laughing to herself.

Sana genuinely stops functioning as she processes this new information: You’re not taken. Fireworks set off in her heart and confetti seems to pop: you’re not her mom. All the guilt that had been on her shoulders from thinking she was infatuated with a taken mother is gone, and it all makes sense now. Sana wonders how stupid she could’ve been, I mean, you and Hana’s dad had similar features, face shape, hair texture, and color. The young teacher had also realized that Hana only called you by your name, and not “mommy” or “mom” or anything like that; how could she have been so stupid?

“Ms. Minatozaki?”

“Oh, yeah, yes Hana. Y/n can come, of course, she can.” Sana says, and she really hopes you do come. Hana smiles and looks back at her paper before talking to her teacher again,

“You know, my aunt, she asks about you a lot.” 

“She does?” Sana says, her heart skips a beat. Hana nods and looks back up at the teacher,

“She always asks about how school was, but she always ends up asking more about you and how you were during the day.” Sana’s eyes widen and she looks at the young girl in front of her, exposing you for being so interested in her. 

The flame in her heart grows bigger, and it seems that the flame has no intention of dying down now that she knows you’re not Hana’s mother. Hana turns around and makes her way back to her desk to color after seeing that Sana wasn’t capable of responding again, and Sana doesn't even notice. Hana sits down unbothered, not knowing that she just turned Sana’s whole mood around, not knowing that this new piece of information will have her daydreaming the rest of the day – no, the rest of the week – maybe the rest of the month.

-

The school day comes to an end and the usual routine occurs: bell rings, kids scream, talk, and practically leap out of their seats to get in line to go to the entrance of the building. Sana waits with her usual group of eight, which includes Hana, and she hopes that today would be the day that you decided to pick her up. You had already picked Hana up on Monday, but now it’s Wednesday and those are the days that Hana’s dad would usually pick the little girl up, great.

-

Forty minutes pass and Sana sits down at the main office with Hana, no one had come to pick her up yet. Hana seems to be unbothered by this as she colors and draws on the sheet of paper that Sana had given her to cure her boredom, but she worries slightly since Jihyo still waits for her in the front. 

Sana texts Jihyo a string of apologies and explanations and before she reads the instant reply, the sound of heavy breaths are heard as a familiar face enters the room, looking around all worried until her body relaxes when she sees her niece.

Y/n lets out a sigh of relief seeing Hana sitting down, coloring as if there wasn’t a single problem in the world. Her look shifts over to Sana, who is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and it makes the two women smile at one another.

“Hana,” your voice makes the little girl turn her head. She smiles and runs up to hug you, leaving her art on the desk,

“Aunt y/n!” And this is the first time Sana hears the little girl actually call you her aunt, she wishes that she would’ve called you aunt earlier (it would've saved her sleepless nights of wondering what the hell to do with her feelings, but at least she knows now). 

You hug the little girl back and swipe away the strands of hair on her face, “Hi little one. Your dad had something come up at work, I rushed over as soon as my shift ended.” You explain. You turn back to share eye contact with the young teacher, eyes narrowing and lips curving upwards as you smile at her, “Thank you for watching her, I’m sorry for being so late.”

“It’s all right, really.” It’s more than all right, Sana thinks. 

You grin again and turn your attention back to your niece, “Ready to go?”

“Yup!” 

“Okay little one, come on.” and you crouch down to let her wrap around your shoulders, letting her piggyback ride you. You grab the art that your niece had made on the table and finally stand in front of Sana, thanking her.

“I’m sorry again, thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem, it’s nice to see you again,” Sana admits, a bit shyly too. The grin that’s already present on your lips grows and you wave to the shorter woman,

“I’ll see you.” You finally say, waving with your free hand and turning your head to the little one, “Let’s get going, your dad will be back by dinner.” You mutter, and Hana hums tiredly in response before you head out the main office doors, taking a quick glance at Sana, smiling again.

…

Jihyo’s going to lose her mind when I tell her all of this, Sana thinks to herself.

[wh0re43van]

Frogger- Peter Maximoff X Reader

Summary: Teasing Peter Maximoff. That's it. Thats the fic.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: A little smutty (pg 13-ish), weed, kinda slow burn

A/n: This came to me while staring at a wall for 20 minutes after five bong rips. It was written in like an hour at midnight and only proofread once; probably a fair amount of typing errors. Thank you for reading !!

Pt 2

I lay on Peters bed listening to one of his Pink Floyd cassettes and sipping on a coca cola awaiting his return. I met peter at the arcade a couple months ago and we hit it off immediately… well, after we finished arguing over who got to the Pac-Man game first. He zoomed in front of me, seeming to appear out of thin air. I yelled at him, saying that I was there first and I had already put my token in, after he backed down, then we hit it off. He showed me some secretes he’d learned about the game then we went to get coffee. I’ve spoken to him almost every day since. He quickly became a close friend.

“Knock knock,” he says walking into the room. He’d zoomed out to re-up. I hop off his bed, setting my soda down on the coffee table as I approach him. I’m happy to see him, but even more excited to check out the weed.

“About damn time,” I joke as he tosses me the baggie.

“What? I was gone for literally five minutes,” he laughs, taking a seat on his couch.

“That’s awfully long for you, eh Quickie,” I sit down next to him grinning. “Shit, I left my papers in my car,” I frown, before picking up my keys and dangling them in front of Peter. He rolls his eyes, taking the car keys and speeding out and back, within seconds he’s tossing the rolling papers into my lap. “Thank you,” I bat my lashes at him.

“Yeah yeah,” he rolls his eyes, opening a bag of chips. He watches me as I break up the weed and begin to roll the joint.

“Damn you’re good at that,” he says genuinely impressed as he crunches on the Doritos.

“Well, I have a lot of experience,” I laugh sparking the joint, taking a deep hit. He’s told me that he didn’t smoke a whole lot before he met me, maybe I’m a bad influence. Then again, I had never stolen anything until I met him; so I guess it cancels out.

I pass the joint to peter as I exhale the smoke. “Good shit,” I laugh as I try stifle a cough. Peter takes a hit, immediately coughing so hard his face turns red.

“Goddman,” he chokes out, I hand him my soda in attempt to ease his coughing. “Wow I already feel it,” he says after he takes a sip, his voice raspy from the hot smoke and hacking as he sets the glass bottle down next to him.

“I think the coughing makes you higher,” I giggle, wiping off the ash off my skirt.

“I think you’re right, shit,” he sighs. “You feel it yet?” he asks looking at me through lidded eyes.

“Not quite, my tolerance is pretty high,” I laugh then take another hit before grabbing his Atari controller. “Wanna play frogger?” I ask.

“Stupid question,” he scoffs, zooming to the gaming console, looking for the correct game cassette. I take the time to admire how handsome Peter is, the way his white t-shirt hugs his toned arms, his constantly messy silver hair that falls perfectly into his face, his perfect skin- despite how much junk food he eats.

‘Damn he looks good,’ I think to myself as I take another hit off the joint, lounging on his crumb covered couch with the tan controller resting in my other hand. Peter zooms back to me.

“321 go!” He shouts, starting the game.

“Shit Pete I wasn’t ready,” I shoot up dropping the blunt, Peter of course catches it before it hits the ground then pops it into his mouth. I die almost instantly.

“You lose,” he takes the controller out of my hand replacing it with the joint. “My turn!” He gives me a shit eating grin that I’ve grown to adore. I roll my eyes.

“Alright Quickie,” I begin as his fingers move in a blur on the Atari controller. “Lets make this a competition. Best 2/3. Winner gets a whole joint to themselves,” I smirk.

“Oh you’re on,” he laughs, not looking away from the television. I cover his eyes with my hands, causing him to die. “Dude!” he shouts at me. I grin taking the controller. “You loose, my turn!” I mock him. He laughs, leaning back on the couch. I last a while, ultimately missing the log, dying when I fall into the water.

“425, beat that,” I proudly hand him the controller.

“Pft, in my sleep,” he scoffs, and he’s right. He quickly beats my score with a whopping 683. “You sure you wanna continue, man?” he smirks. “You can still back out and just split the joint, and keep your pride intact,” he offers with a smug grin. Instead of getting irritated, I develop a plan.

“Oh, I’m sure Peter,” I smirk back. “But could you go first? You’re so great, I’d like to know the final score I have to beat,” I ask batting my lashes.

“Uh, sure. Okay,” he agrees even though he looks confused. He starts the next game, doing very well of course. Without him noticing, I pull my sweater down to show some cleavage before I reach over him to grab my cola sitting on the opposite side of him. My chest sets even with his eyes as I grab the cold glass bottle. Peters fingers slow and a light pink settles on his cheeks. He clears his throat, as I sit back down on the couch.

“Alright man, you can’t distract me that easily,” he laughs it off, even though he’s still blushing, glancing between me and the screen.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m just thirsty,” I smirk as I use my tongue to bring the paper straw into my mouth, staring at Peters eyes that keep finding their way back to me. I slowly slide the straw out of my mouth, my tinted lip gloss leaving a ring on the white paper.

“Mmm,” I moan, leaning closer to him as I savor the taste of the cherry cola. “This is really good Peter, how’d you know that cherry’s my favorite?” I ask lowly. His eyes go wide, his frog gets hit by a truck earning him a score of 237

“Come on!” the speedster shouts. “That’s totally unfair! How am I supposed to concentrate when you’re being all hot and shit?” he asks, his cheeks still pink.

“You think I’m hot?” I giggle, taking the controller from his hands. His cheeks burn even brighter when he realizes that he just admitted that he thinks I’m hot.

I easily beat his score; he doesn’t even try to stop me. “Fetch me my weed,” I grin, holding out my hand. He rolls his eyes, but in instant the weed, papers and lighter are in my hand. “Thanks, Quickie,” I wink before quickly rolling another joint.

I lean back on the arm of the couch, watching Peter as his eyes follow the joint going between my lips, staring as I French inhale the smoke. His bloodshot eyes watch in awe and I can’t help but smile at his obvious ogling.

“Let’s watch something,” I smile, standing up and walking toward the tv, taking another hit.

“Sure,” he sighs in relief. “What movie are you th…” he trails off when I bend over, my short skirt exposing the smallest amount of my ass. I pretend not to notice, picking up a random VHS.

“What about Jaws?” I turn, asking him innocently. He blinks shaking his head as if trying to release himself from a trance.

“Uh,” he clears his throat. “Yeah s-sure dude. What, uh, whatever you th-think sounds good,” he clears his throat again, staring into my eyes, not even blinking. I can tell that he’s trying extremely hard not to look at my sweater that’s still pulled down or my skirt that’s ridden up my thighs. I can almost hear him saying to himself ‘don’t look, don’t look, don’t look…’. I’m enjoying every moment of this.

I smile as I bend down to slip the VHS into the player, I turn to catch Peter adjusting his pants. He quickly removes his hand, giving me a huge grin trying not look guilty. I put the spliff back in my mouth to keep myself from laughing.

I walk over to the couch, tapping the joint out and setting it in the ash tray. As the movie starts to play, I take a seat next to peter, throwing my legs over his, allowing my skirt to fall down my thighs towards my stomach, and Peter seems to notice. His breath hitches in his throat, glancing back and forth between the movie and my thighs. We sit like this for the first part of the movie, eventually he relaxes a bit, getting into the film. I watch as the light from the screen bounces of his sharp features. I smirk as I lean up to Peter.

“You have something on your face,” I say quietly. He watches as I take my thumb in my mouth, wetting it to wipe the dried frosting off his cheek. His face floods red, he’s adorable.

“What’s wrong Peter?” I ask, still only inches from his face. “Why so quiet all of the sudden?” I lean into whisper in his ear. He visibly shutters as my breath hits his skin, a barely noticeable sheen of sweat appears on his forehead. I’m satisfied with his reaction. “Do I make you nervous, Peter?” I ask, wiping the sweat off his face. He turns to look at me.

“Uh,” he clears his throat. “N-no, of course not. It’s just, uhm, a little warm in here, th-that’s all,” he stutters, staring at me with his glossy brown eyes.

“Hm,” I pretend to think about his response. “You’re right,” I grin before pulling my grey sweater over my head, leaving me in my short skirt and white tank top that clings to my curves and barely covers my cleavage. He audibly gasps with wide eyes, not bothering to hide his staring.

“It’s getting even more hot in here all of the sudden,” he pulls at the neck of his shirt trying to cool himself off.

“Maybe you should take this off then,” I suggest, toying with the hem of the shirt. “Might cool you off,” I don’t drop his gaze as I reach for my cola, taking another sip.

“I-uh… y-yeah, sure, m-maybe you’re, uhm right,” he stumbles over his words before clumsily taking off the white t-shirt. I’m surprised that he actually did it, but definitely not disappointed. I drink in the picture Infront of me. The nervous boy fidgeting with his hands, a thin sheen of sweat on his flushed cheeks and toned torso, his chest rising and falling rapidly, all of my doing. The sight makes my core ache.

“Your goggles are crooked,” I observe as I slowly crawl on top of him to straddle his waist, giving him time to stop me, incase I’m taking it too far.

He just gulps, watching as I settle on his lap. I place one hand on his chest, using the other to adjust the silver goggles, my chest at his eye level once again. I catch his eyes, now glossed over with lust rather than THC, watching me as I smooth his hair down. As I sit back, my core against his crotch, I can feel his excitement through his pants, he bounces his leg rapidly in anticipation, watching, waiting for whatever it is that I’m going to do to him next.

“Are you sure you’re not nervous?” I smile, my skirt completely bunched up around my waist, exposing the entirety of my white thong.

“Y-yeah,” his voice cracks. “I’m totally fine,” his words come out shaky as he stares at my exposed underwear.

“I’ll move if you want, Peter,” I slowly grind my crotch against his, the friction on my core feels amazing. “Just tell me and I’ll move,” I offer with pleasure laced in my tone, hoping that he doesn’t ask me to stop.

He doesn’t say anything, just lets out a small whimper as I put more pressure and speed into my movements. I slowly dip down to his neck, giving him time to stop me if he desires, leaving wet kisses on his jugular. I swear I can feel how hard his heart is beating.

“You taste so sweet, Peter,” I whisper in his ear, continuing my grinding on his erection through his pants.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his breathing shallow and quick. I slowly slide my hands down to his buckle, still moving my hips as I trail my kisses closer to his lips. I pop the buckle open and bite down on his lip gently, he gasps against my mouth.

Beep beep. Beep beep.

Goddamnit

My digital wristwatch signals that it’s time to pick my little brother up from school. I hop off Peter, he furrows his brows.

“I gotta go man, I gotta pick up my brother,” I explain, he just watches in confusion as I slide my sweater back on my body, adjusting my skirt and putting on my shoes. I head to the steps, he jumps up as if he’s just now processed what’s happened.

“Hey, wait, you can’t leave me like this,” he whines, his erection prominent in his blue jeans. “We were having fun,” he frowns. I smile widely.

“Don’t worry, I’m coming back,” I wink. “My weeds here dude, you know I’ll be back,” I laugh walking away from the shirtless, frustrated, confused boy standing with a raging boner in the middle of his room.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hi, I saw you were taking requests for Deadpool and I thought it be super funny if he met a reader who could keep up with him (weird inappropriate comments/ humor/ pop culture references) minus the 4th wall breaks ofc.

If this isn't up your alley feel free to ignore this, ty 🖤

Killing Me Softly

I hope you enjoy ☺️

The warehouse was dark, damp, and perfect for an old-school showdown. Deadpool swaggered in, humming the theme from Mission: Impossible, pistols twirling in his hands like a kid who found his mom's nunchucks and figured out that laundry day was a myth. He scanned the shadows for his target, the very high-profile CEO of a very high-profile company that no one cared about. His orders were clear: terminate with extreme prejudice. Or, at the very least, with a strong dislike.

But instead of the balding businessman cowering behind a crate, he found something else. Or rather, someone else.

“Hey there, Red,” a voice purred from behind a stack of crates. A woman stepped out, dressed in sleek black leather, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Her outfit screamed "I'm here to kick ass," but the smirk on her lips whispered "and maybe take names if I feel like it."

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Catwoman’s cooler cousin,” Deadpool quipped, cocking his head to the side. “Let me guess: you’re here to pick up my leftovers? Sorry, but I don’t share my Happy Meals, even if they come with a toy.”

She laughed, a sound that danced between sultry and psychotic. “Sorry, Red, but I’ve got dibs on the target tonight. And if you don’t step aside, I might have to take you out instead.”

Deadpool’s mask crinkled as he grinned beneath it. “Oh, I’m shaking in my combat boots. Really. You sure you can handle this much Deadpool? I’m like Taco Bell at 2 a.m.—a lot to digest and with a real kick on the way out.”

She twirled a knife between her fingers, eyes narrowing. “I’ve handled worse. Besides, aren’t you a little old for the whole ‘merc with a mouth’ shtick? I thought the red was just to hide the gray hairs.”

“Ouch, right in the ego!” Deadpool clutched his chest dramatically, stumbling back a step. “But baby, this mouth is still as fresh as morning breath after a night of garlic bread and Netflix. And this face? Well, it’s why I wear the mask. Wouldn’t want you falling for me too hard before we even have our first death match.”

She raised an eyebrow. “First? Honey, I’m aiming to make it our last. Unless you’re into that whole ‘till death do us part’ thing. You strike me as the clingy type.”

Deadpool shrugged, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Only when it comes to chimichangas and Hugh Jackman’s biceps. But let’s get one thing straight—I’m not the guy who buys flowers after the first fight. I’m the guy who leaves you a ‘sorry I tried to kill you’ card. Hallmark doesn’t make those, but they should.”

She rolled her eyes, finally lunging forward with the grace of a panther. Deadpool sidestepped her attack, spinning around to face her as she whipped a leg toward his head. He ducked, blocking her next punch with his forearm.

“Nice moves. Did you learn those in a ballet class, or are you just naturally graceful?” he teased, grabbing her wrist and twisting it just enough to throw her off balance.

She flipped over his arm, landing on her feet like a cat. “Funny, I was just about to ask if you got your fighting style from an old Jackie Chan movie, or if you’re just winging it.”

“Why choose?” Deadpool replied, spinning on his heel to deliver a roundhouse kick. She blocked it, the impact reverberating up his leg, but she didn’t flinch.

Their dance continued, the sound of their clashes filling the warehouse. Each strike was met with a quip, each dodge with a flirtatious grin. It was like foreplay with more bruises and less wine.

“Hey, how about we call a truce?” Deadpool suggested as he caught her wrist again, their faces inches apart. “You, me, a bottle of tequila, and some nachos? We can watch Die Hard and argue about whether it’s a Christmas movie. Spoiler: it totally is.”

She smirked, twisting out of his grip and pressing a knife to his throat. “Tempting, but I think I’ll take my chances finishing you off first. Though I do have to admit, you’ve got a way with words. Ever consider a career in romance novels?”

Deadpool froze, then slowly raised his hands in surrender. “Well, this took a turn. But, since I’m a gentleman and all, I should warn you—if you’re gonna slice my throat, be prepared for a lot of red. And not the romantic kind. More like ‘OMG, what did we do to the rug’ kind.”

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his cheek. “Noted. But how about we skip the throat slitting and go straight to dessert? I’m more of a ‘death by chocolate’ kind of girl.”

Deadpool blinked. “Are you… are you flirting with me? Because I gotta say, it’s working. But I’m contractually obligated to kill your boss, so…”

“Contractually obligated to kick your ass,” she countered, though the knife hadn’t moved an inch.

“Touché.” He slowly lowered his hands, his fingers brushing against her wrist, almost gently. “Tell you what, you let me finish my job, I’ll give you a head start on your next gig. Maybe even throw in some pointers—how to out-Deadpool the Deadpool. Could be fun.”

She tilted her head, considering it. “And here I thought you weren’t the sharing type.”

“I’m a man of mystery. Keeps things spicy. Besides,” he added, winking under his mask, “I wouldn’t mind having a nemesis who can keep up with my banter. Makes the whole killing-each-other thing way more interesting.”

She chuckled, finally lowering the knife. “Deal. But don’t expect me to go easy on you next time, Red.”

Deadpool stepped back, giving her a mock bow. “Wouldn’t dream of it, darling. Until we meet again—same time, different corpse?”

She sheathed her knife and backed away, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary. “Looking forward to it. Don’t miss me too much, Deadpool.”

As she disappeared into the shadows, Deadpool couldn’t help but grin to himself. “Oh, I definitely won’t. But I might just send a postcard.”

He turned toward his original target, whistling as he went. “Now, where were we? Ah, right. Extreme prejudice…”

The end. (Or is it?)

[precioustarkey]

journalism at its finest

summary: you have made a career for yourself by interviewing celebrities, but are feeling a little uncomfortable when one hits close to home.

warnings: none

i nervously climbed into my car. the engine only makes my nerves rattle more. growing up, i was infatuated with actors and musicians. i found myself watching movies for the actors instead of the plot. listening to songs for the singers instead of the message. i can't explain my relationship with the media. i guess being online a lot as a teenager is to blame.

regardless, i knew from an early age that i wanted to work in the industry. not as an entertainer, but in the background. i wanted to observe the lifestyle up close. going to college for journalism was the best decision i have made for myself because now i get to live out my fantasy. 

i get paid to interview these people. and though i find a lot of them uptight and spoiled, the nosy side of me loves picking them apart. because of my job, i try my best to stay neutral on these celebrities so that they don't feel uncomfortable. apart from the research i do in order to come up with my questions, of course.

today is different. there is a show called "outer banks" that came around during quarantine, so with my free time, i binge-watched the entire first season. as i mentioned, normally i watch tv shows and movies for the actors, but i hadn't seen anyone in this show. 

however, when i delved deeper into google, i found the name of one of the actors to be familiar. drew starkey. i quickly found out that he grew up in north carolina, as did i. confused, i pulled myself from my cocoon on my couch to find my old high school yearbooks. grabbing one at random, i see him grinning in his senior photo. how could i forget? 

ever since i discovered this, i avoided the show like the plague. even though i had been surrounded by celebrities for years now, i had never known one of them personally. it almost ruined the glamorous aura surrounding them. imagining him as a regular teenage boy in the classes we shared was humbling. he wasn't mean in high school, not at all. if anything, i remember finding it odd that he hung around the theater kids because he was a total jock.

because of quarantine, i knew that press would be difficult for the actors, and because of this, i never anticipated having to interview them. which helped ease my nerves. moving to los angeles meant that i would interview every celebrity on the new up-and-coming shows. part of me hoped the hype surrounding the show would die down before the lockdown did.

the entire ride to the studio, i told myself over and over again that there was no way he would remember me. he was a jock, and i barely spoke. it wasn't the fact that i was shy, high school just wasn't for me. i counted down the days to graduation. i was only there because i had to be. i put more focus on my studies than my social life. 

in the back of my mind, i can't help but fear that seeing him will bring back memories of being the closed-off kid i was back then. as long as no one mentions it, everything will be okay. i repeated that to myself a few times before parking my car in the lot. removing my seatbelt as slowly as possible to buy time.

my hands are shaking as i walk to my studio. i send passing smiles to my coworkers as i make my way to the bathroom. i confirm that my hair, face, and outfit look presentable, and read over my questions one last time. 

the cameraman walks up to me as i take my seat to wait for the cast to arrive. "i just got a call; austin and drew are going to be the only ones you're interviewing today. madelyn, rudy, and  madison will be interviewed tomorrow," he says, looking for any sort of confirmation. "that sounds perfect," i say, smiling, still looking at my cards. 

i hear footsteps coming from the hallway and quickly stand up. austin and drew emerged into the room with their crew. "hello! so nice to meet you, my name is y/n," i say with a grin as i hold out my hand to them. they do the same, introducing themselves as they take turns shaking my hand. 

all three seats are now filled, so we can begin the questions. the first fifteen minutes go perfectly; we're laughing, they're thoroughly interested in the questions, and they're giving great answers. turning my attention to drew, i ask, "has this sudden change in lifestyle been difficult for you at all? to go from putting your all into basketball, to then deciding on theater in college?" 

he looks taken aback by my question. that nervous feeling in my stomach is slowly creeping back. i made sure that his sports background was easy to find online, so i was confident he wouldn't be too surprised. "wait a second. y/n? y/n y/l/n?" i can feel my cheeks flush at his realization. 

"can i be honest? i was hoping you wouldn't notice," i said, covering my face with my note cards. we are now sharing smiles. "oh my god. i sat behind you in algebra, you're the only reason i passed that class," he says in between laughs. seeing him in person has brought all of those little memories flooding back. 

after a minute or so of catching up, their team urges us on. "we've got other interviews, guys," the man says impatiently. we carry on for an additional fifteen minutes or so before i have run out of questions to ask. we said our farewells, and i thanked them for coming.

just as they were leaving, drew turned around, brushing past the guys they had walked in with. "y/n can i get your number? i would love to catch up properly whenever we both have time," he says, pulling out his phone. "yes, of course!" i smile, quickly typing in the numbers before they are once again rushed away. 

it felt like no time before my phone started dinging.

part two is here!